Deadly Manhunt (A Tony Masero Western)

by Tony Masero

  She waited then, a teardrop hovering on the end of her long lashes but not daring to meet his eyes.

  ‘You don’t think I have a say in this?’

  ‘Well, I know how most men would be, why should be any different?’

  Slade sat up straight and pulled her from the arm of the chair and into his lap. ‘Look at me,’ he said. ‘You think I’m some kind of angel? I’ve been all kinds of a whoring rat. I’ve been bad to women and men alike. So full of myself it would hurt you to hear. I laid sin on a good man’s woman, shot, beaten and killed more than I can count and been all kinds of a desperate fellow. I care for you, woman. You understand? Neither of us is better than the other. We start off on level ground here.’

  She smiled briefly and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Does that mean I can stay?’

  ‘You’d better or I’ll want the reason why. And kids? Kids ain’t so hard to find, there’s more orphans in this land than there’s a right to be. We’ll just adopt some of them, enough to keep the Ma in you content. And we’ll start right here, with this little one, if he’ll have us.’

  ‘Oh, Jack,’ she sighed, kissing his neck. ‘I don’t deserve this.’

  ‘Sure you do,’ he laughed. ‘A shop soiled old gunhand with a drinking problem. That’s about all you do deserve.’

  She kissed him on the mouth and pulled him close, ‘Bless you, Jack,’ she whispered.

  Slade looked past her at the boy who was watching them, a tin soldier in each hand. ‘Petey,’ he said. ‘Come on over here.’

  The boy set down his toys and ambled over to stand and rest his hand on Slade’s knee.

  ‘You reckon you’d like to stay with Jane and me?’ he asked.

  Peter bit his lower lip and thought a moment, ‘I think I’d like that real fine, Mister Slade.’

  ‘Then it’s done,’ said Slade, covering the boy’s small hand with his own where it lay on his knee. ‘Welcome home, son.’

  Jane knelt down and drawing the boy close, she hugged him tight and Peter responded with arms thrown around her neck.

  ‘It’ll be nice, won’t it, Jane?’ he said.

  ‘It will,’ she whispered. ‘It surely will.’

  ‘I’ll go see a lawyer in the morning and get the papers drawn up,’ said Slade. ‘But I reckon they won’t allow it until we’re hitched,’ he added slyly.

  Jane turned to look at him, the boy still held in her arms, ‘You about to make an honest woman of me, Jack Slade?’ she asked.

  ‘Well,’ he chuckled. ‘At least one of us best be honest.’

  Jack lay awake that night.

  He and Jane had made love into the small hours and he should have been exhausted after the passionate demands Jane fired at him thanks to his proposal. He looked across at her fondly where she lay sleeping on the pillow next to him, her copper hair spread darkly over the linen. It was warm in the room after their exertions and the sheets were thrown back leaving her slender body exposed in the blue light coming in from the night sky outside. She lay with one leg crooked and the sheen of light fell across her satin skin creating soft valleys of shadow and highlighting the rise and fall of her breasts as her breath came even and deep.

  It wasn’t such a bad deal, he figured. She really was quite beautiful and like any wounded waif with character she would love him with loyal and strong commitment, that he was convinced of. And it was time. Time he made something out of his life other than enforcing the law and bringing the bad to book. He felt he could mold something new with Jane, make a loving home and despite not having their own at least give something to children cast adrift through no fault of their own. It was a good thing to do and in doing it he believed he would make up in some small way for the sins of his own past.

  His mind rambled on and inadvertently returned to the other boy so recently bereft of his father. Joey Caulfield. He saw him again standing beside old man Bentink when they brought Colonel Friday’s body in. In Slade’s mind’s eye, the redheaded boy stood there with the small-caliber rifle and pack over his shoulder and he felt sad as he realized he had said nothing to him when the vaqueros had brought in his father’s body.

  Then, as if in a flash his mind focused and enlarged. The pack the boy had over his shoulder. It was more of a satchel really, one like they used in the army. A government issue sack!

  Slade sat up sharply in the bed and Jane murmured sleepily at his sudden movement. ‘Damn it!’ he whispered. It wasn’t old man Caulfield that had the plans; it must be Joey Caulfield. He must have got hold of them somehow and kept it to himself.

  Slade could barely contain himself and he determined to ride out first thing and visit the Freshwater Ranch.

  As it happened, Slade was delayed somewhat next morning early as Jane wished to revisit some of their escapades of the night before and it was a slightly haggard looking Jack Slade that finally picked up his pony from the stables and rode out.

  He found the Freshwater Ranch held a deserted air about the place when he arrived. There was a certain stillness prevalent in the air and as he made out the black-ribbon funeral wreath on the door and the fresh dug grave over by the oak tree he realized the house was still in mourning.

  Slade dismounted and knocked on the door and it was eventually opened by a glum looking Mrs. Caulfield.

  ‘Last time you came calling, Marshal, it ended in tragedy,’ she greeted him in a mournful tone. ‘I hope you ain’t bringing more grief to my door.’

  ‘No ma’am,’ said Slade, removing his hat. ‘I came to bring my condolences and I sure am sorry for your troubles.’

  ‘That’s as maybe,’ she said, eyeing him shrewishly. ‘But the past weeks have been full of woe for us in this household and a lot of it’s cause can be laid at the feet of the law so I don’t know that I can truly make you welcome here.’

  Slade considered that more rightly much of the blame could be laid at her own door. It had been she who had befriended the outlaw Kid and given him invite into her house and no one else could rightly be blamed for that. Her husband’s death was also way outside the law’s provenance but Slade considered it would not be politic to remind the widow of that at this particular moment.

  ‘I wonder if I might have a word with young Joey? Kind of see if he’s okay,’ Slade asked.

  She tusked sadly, ‘Damned boy! His Pa in the ground and a million tasks to be done around here and he’s off somewhere. I don’t know where he’s gone, the wretched child. As if I didn’t have enough on my mind just now.’

  Slade realized the poor woman was bereft and he looked with some sympathy at her red-rimmed eyes that had obviously spent many hours in tearful solitude.

  ‘Maybe I can go look for him. Send him home to you,’ he offered.

  ‘I’d be obliged, Marshal. He’s the only man around here now apart from the Mexican help and he’s going to have to learn to keep up his end of things now his Pa’s gone.’

  ‘Sure,’ Slade agreed. ‘I’ll leave you alone then to get on with your grieving and send Joey home when I find him.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Marshal,’ she said, suddenly contrite. ‘I ain’t being very neighborly I know. You can come in if you will and have some coffee.’

  ‘That’s alright, Mrs. Caulfield. I see how you are and understand you’re best left with your memories just now. I didn’t know him well but I think your husband was a fine man.’

  ‘Damn fool, more like,’ she muttered spitefully. ‘Getting himself shot like that.’

  ‘Guess he would have preferred it otherwise, ma’am,’ said Slade putting on his hat again.

  Slade rode out towards the fishing hole, the place he guessed that Joey would have gone to escape his mother’s wretchedness. And he found the boy there, gazing gloomily into the water his fishing pole held out limply before him and a black memorial band tied to his arm.

  Joey turned at the sound of the approaching pony and scrambled to his feet, dropping the pole.

  ‘You come to arrest me, Marshal?’ he called o
ut nervously.

  ‘No, son,’ said Slade, getting down from the saddle. ‘But I think you know why I’m here.’

  ‘I guess,’ said the boy, looking down sorrowfully at his feet.

  ‘You have the bag?’ Slade asked, standing across the pool from the boy.

  Joey nodded, ‘It’s there. Up in the rocks yonder.’ He indicated the sloping boulder behind him.

  ‘You want to get it for me?’

  ‘Okay,’ Joey answered numbly, mounting the lower stones. ‘I didn’t mean no harm by it, Marshal,’ he pleaded as he began to climb the rock face on all fours as easily as a mountain cat. ‘I kept it for my Pa. To help him, you know? He found them dead men and brought back all their gear in the buckboard after he buried them, then we found the bag in amongst their possibles. It looked like it might show where them prospectors had their claim. Pa thought it could be worth something and he told me to go hide it.’

  ‘So you got hold of it long before the Colonel reached the ranch?’

  Joey nodded, ‘Yeah, Pa sent word to town about the dead prospectors and the rest of the gear they had with them. Some shovels, work clothes and telescope things. It didn’t amount to much but Pa wanted it to look like everything was being done proper. Then he guessed that the law would come calling when the Colonel and Peter went missing, so he gave me the maps to hide away.’

  ‘That must have been why he told me he’d given it all to Rio Palmer.’

  ‘I guess. Is it them maps what got Pa shot?’

  ‘Reckon so.’

  ‘Are you going to get the man who did it, Marshal?’

  ‘That’s my job.’

  Joey was up at the pinnacle of the rocks, delving in a narrow crevice next to the mastic tree growing there. And Slade smiled cynically to himself, to think he had been right next to the hiding place when he had been searching for the Colonel. Joey tugged out the pack and tossed it through the air down to Slade who caught it easily. It was lightweight and slender, no more than a canvas case with a pack of drawings inside and Slade wondered at all the fuss and death over such a slight object.

  He unbuckled the straps and looked inside, his fingers leafing through the wad of carefully drawn gradients within. It made as little sense to him as it had to everybody else who had looked at it outside the railroad. To their eye though it’s significance was obviously more akin to a gold strike.

  ‘Did you have this bag with you when we found the Colonel? You remember that day over yonder?’

  Joey was sliding down the rocks on his butt and he called his answer. ‘I remember the day but I didn’t have that with me. No, I recall now. It was some supplies I was taking up to Peter that day.’

  So the thoughts that morning in bed that had guided Slade here had not been totally accurate. Still, he thought, it was close enough.

  ‘Alright now, Joey,’ he said as the boy came around the edge of the pool towards to him. ‘Listen good. Your Ma’s having a hard time of it just now. I know its tough for you too but she needs your help and running off out here ain’t doing her any good when there’s chores to get done. You hear me now? Poor woman’s run off her feet and sad all at the same time. I want you to help her out.’

  Joey hung his head sorrowfully. ‘Okay, I know. It was just…. Well…. I missed my Pa.’

  ‘I know that, son,’ said Slade, ruffling the boy’s head of red hair. ‘But you’re going to have to grow up fast now. Time to take your place as a man on the ranch.’

  ‘I’ll try, Marshal Slade,’ Joey promised soulfully.

  ‘That’s all any of us can do. You do what you can and make me proud of you, Joey. Now get along home and help your Ma out.’

  Slade watched the boy run off in the direction of the ranch as he packed the maps into his saddlebag. He was unsure of what exactly to do with them now that he had them and wondered if keeping their discovery quiet would avoid a sight more trouble than exposing them. There might be riots on the streets of Lincoln if the local folks found out they were going to be sidetracked by the railroad. It was a difficult choice to make and one he thought best left to his boss, Pat Garrett.

  With that gratifying thought in mind he mounted up and headed back to Lincoln.

  He led his horse into the livery stables and unfastened the saddlebags. Slinging them over his shoulder he was about to unstrap the saddle when the stable boy came up behind.

  ‘You can leave that, Marshal. I’ll do her for you.’

  Slade nodded, ‘Fine, okay. I’m obliged. You new here?’

  The young man was about nineteen and a tall and languid creature, with an open and honest face. ‘That’s right, sir. My family and me, we only got into town a week ago and I had me two jobs already. I used to do grocery delivery for the general store but they offered me five cents more over here.’

  ‘Going up in the world, then?’

  ‘That’s my ambition,’ grinned the stable boy proudly. ‘You done for the day? I’ll rub her down if you ain’t going out after your lady.’

  Slade frowned. ‘My lady? What do you mean?’

  ‘Why Miss Jane, Marshal. The whole town knows you’re courting now.’

  That was a tactful way of putting it, thought Slade but he was a little surprised that Jane would take off without letting him know.

  ‘When did she go?’ he asked.

  ‘Couple of hours since, I reckon. Was in a mite of a hurry, hired the buggy and took off fast.’

  ‘She have the boy with her?’

  The young man nodded, ‘Sure, although it was a tight fit on the two-seater. Still the gentleman held the boy on his lap so I guess they was comfortable enough.’

  ‘Gentleman? Who was he? Do you know?’ A thread of concern was beginning to run up Slade’s spine.

  ‘Well, to be honest, Marshal. I ain’t been in town long enough to know every face. I know you and Marshal Garrett, of course. The preacher up at the church and a few other gents but I couldn’t rightly say who this fellow was. He had his face to one side behind the boy and I couldn’t see him well enough. You reckon something’s wrong?’ the boy frowned.

  ‘I ain’t sure. Did they say where they was heading?’

  ‘No, sir. Maybe I should have paid more heed. I’m sorry, Marshal.’

  ‘That’s alright,’ Slade muttered, his mind racing. ‘Leave the pony saddled,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back shortly.’

  Slade ran over to the hotel and was about to climb the stairs to his room when the desk clerk called him over.

  ‘Got a letter for you, Mister Slade.’

  Slade looked across at the hand waving the sealed envelope.

  ‘Miss Jane left it, said to give it to you when you got in,’ the clerk explained.

  ‘She’s not here then? You’re sure?’

  ‘Oh no, sir. She left a while back.’

  Slade took the note and stepped to one side of the lobby to read it.

  ‘I have the woman and the boy,’ he read. ‘You know what I want. If you have it bring it poste-haste to San Patricio and they will be safe. You don’t and they die. Say a word to anyone and they die. I mean what I say.’

  It was a bald statement of threat and Slade believed every word of it. The killer couldn’t have already got wind of his successful find of the maps, he probably reckoned Slade would uncover them eventually and kidnapped Jane and Peter in readiness. It was a sensible way to go, Slade had to admit it. Preparing for the worst the agent had covered his ass by holding the two Slade held most dear.

  Slade chewed at his lip as he pondered on the best course of action.

  ‘What you so all-fired thoughtful about?’

  It was Garrett nudging him on the shoulder and Slade quickly folded the note.

  ‘You getting billet-doux’s already?’ Garrett grinned. ‘Man, you and Miss Jane really are a pair, ain’t you? The lawman and the widow woman writing love letters to each other, I do declare.’

  ‘Er….’ Slade fumbled. ‘That’s right. We’re a pair of oddballs right enough. Bad lu
ck about the Kid at Greathouse’s place,’ Slade answered quickly to cover his confusion.

  Garrett shrugged. ‘That was a damned mess alright. I just got word the Kid was seen in Escondido though; he’s probably making his way south. That boy’s got a whole heap of friends. Too many folks around here willing to give him shelter but I’ll catch up with him soon enough. How about you? You making any headway with the Friday thing and that railroad agent?’

  ‘I’m getting close,’ Slade allowed. ‘Just on my way to track down a lead.’

  ‘Okay, Deputy. Don’t let me hold you back. Go to it and give my best to Jane when you see her, will you? I still feel bad about busting in on the two of you.’

  ‘Forget it, Pat. Look, I gotta go.’

  Slade was about to hurry out when Garrett called him back.

  ‘By the way, Jack. That was nice work bringing down Raymonds and taking in Rio Palmer, sorry you lost a man on that run.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Slade agreed, anxious to be on his way. ‘Rio took one in the arm but he’ll live.’

  ‘He’ll live to hang if I have anything to say on it,’ Garrett promised. He took a look at Slade’s worried countenance, ‘You alright, Jack? You look a mite peaky.’

  ‘Just a long night,’ Slade admitted. ‘Didn’t get much sleep.’

  Garrett smiled slyly, ‘Oh, I see. Quite the little rabbit, ain’t you? Go on then, get along and don’t fall asleep in the saddle.’

  Slade knew he should have told Garrett, that was the right thing to do but he was afraid the Marshal would call out a whole posse to race over to San Patricio and Slade didn’t want any wild firing from an over-eager band of deputies that might harm Jane and Peter. This one he had to do alone.