Kill Crazy

by William W. Johnstone

“Meagan, sure ’n’ have I nae told you, when you hear shooting outside, do nae go toward the windows. You should go away from them.”

  “I was curious.”

  “Curiosity killed the cat. It could also kill you.”

  “Are you goin’ to tell me? Or will I have to walk next door and ask Biff what happened?”

  “There is nae need for that,” Duff replied. He told Meagan about his run-in with Emile Taylor, downplaying his own role to one of, “a lucky break,” and “he wasn’t expecting it,” and other explanations that made it seem as if his rousting Emile had been nothing more than a bit of luck.

  “One thing I’ve noticed about you, Duff MacCallister, is that you seem to have a way of making your own luck,” Meagan said.

  “Aye, there are those that say that is the best kind of luck. Meagan, ’tis wondering, I am, if we might be able to have dinner together tonight?”

  “Oh, Duff, I would love to,” Meagan said. “But I’ve scheduled some fittings with Mrs. Guthrie and I’m afraid it’s going to take up most of my evening. I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s all right. ’Tis your job, and I understand. Perhaps you could find time tomorrow to have lunch?”

  “Yes, I would love to.”

  “Good, I’ve some business with the bank tomorrow, so I’ll be for coming back into town.”

  “That’s the only reason you will be coming back into town?”

  “Aye, so ’twould be no trouble to be seeing you for lunch.”

  Meagan chuckled. “You are such the romantic, Duff MacCallister.”

  “Beg your pardon, lass?”

  “Nothing. I’ll see you at lunch.”

  Duff touched his fingers to the brim of his hat, then withdrew.

  Down at the Wild Hog, as the afternoon progressed into evening, more and more people came in until, eventually, the saloon was noisy and crowded with its evening customers. Three of the most recent arrivals were the same people Reid had done business with earlier in the day: Kid Dingo, Creech, and Phelps. Half drunk even before they arrived, they were louder and more boisterous than anyone else in the entire establishment.

  Reid had not yet made his presence known to them, but sat alone at a table in the farthest corner of the saloon, watching as they made a place for themselves at the bar. They did this by the simple expedient of elbowing others out of the way. Occasionally one of them would get off a joke at someone else’s expense, and he and the other two would laugh uproariously at his cleverness, unaware, or unconcerned, that the rest of the people in the saloon were not laughing with them, but were instead taking it all in, in embarrassed silence.

  “Who are the funny boys?” someone asked Nippy Jones.

  “The one with blond hair and the loudest mouth calls hisself Kid Dingo,” Jones said. “He’s the youngest. The one with the red hair is a man named Creech. Don’t know if that’s his first or second name. The one with the dark hair and moustache is Phelps. I think they rode for Matt Heckemeyer for a while until he got rid of them. Since then, they’ve rode for first one rancher, then another, ’til, one by one ever’one got sick of ’em. I guess they been fired by near ’bout ever’ spread within fifty miles of here.”

  “They ain’t never rode for MacCallister,” one of the customers said.

  “No, now that you mention it, I don’t think they have,” Nippy Jones replied. “Now they mostly drift about, rounding up a few strays here and there for whatever money they can make.”

  “Yeah, and sometimes the strays ain’t even strayed yet,” one of the others at the bar said. “What gets me is why the ranchers ain’t figured that out.”

  “They got it figured out, all right,” Nippy Jones said. “They just ain’t caught anyone red-handed yet. But the moment they do, you can believe, there will be a necktie party.”

  “That’s a party I want to attend.”

  “I wonder if the marshal knows they’re in town?” Marcus asked.

  The three men who were the subject of the table conversation, perhaps sensing that they were the subject, left the bar and wandered over to the card game.

  “Well, now, this here looks like a friendly game,” Creech said. “Any of you ’bout ready to give up your seats?”

  No one answered.

  “Hey, you,” Creech said to one of the players. “I’m talkin’ to you, harelip.”

  Kid Dingo and Phelps laughed.

  “Why don’t about three of you boys get up and take a rest for a while and let us sit in the game?”

  “Hey, Creech, you want to play, you go right ahead,” Phelps said. “I didn’t come into town to play no cards. Hell, we can do that anywhere. I come for somethin’ else.”

  “Yeah, Phelps, we know what you come for,” Kid Dingo said. “You come to dip your wick.”

  “Hey, look over there,” Creech said, pointing toward Reid. “Come on, let’s go join our old friend Simon Reid. You boys go ahead and play without us.”

  Though none of those playing cards said anything, it was obvious that they were glad to see the three men direct their attention somewhere else.

  “What are you doing here?” Creech asked as they joined Reid at his table. “How come you ain’t out at the ranch?”

  “How come I ain’t out at the ranch? ’Cause I quit, that’s how come,” Reid said. “What are you doin’ here? What happened to the cows?”

  “You don’t be worryin’ none about them cows. We done got ’em all took care of.”

  “Not anybody local, I hope. They could track them cows back to MacCallister.”

  “We didn’t get rid of ’em here,” Creech said. “What are you goin’ to do now?”

  “Right now I’m going to spend some of that money.” Reid smiled, then pointed upstairs. “Betty’s upstairs with somebody now. I’m next in line.”

  “Yeah, but I mean after that. I mean since you ain’t workin’ out at Sky Meadow no more, what are you goin’ to do for a job?”

  “I don’t know. I ain’t thought about it yet.”

  “You could come on up to Bordeaux and throw in with us,” Creech invited.

  “Yeah,” Phelps said. “If they was four of us, we could likely get somethin’ goin’.”

  The man who had gone upstairs with Betty came back down the stairs. His immediate need taken care of, he was aware now that he was the object of attention of everyone else in the saloon, and he had a self-conscious, rather sheepish expression on his face. Keeping his eyes down so as not to meet the gaze of anyone, he hurried on down to the bottom of the stairs, then out of the saloon.

  “Ahh,” Reid said, getting up from the table and starting toward the stairs. “Betty is finished.”

  “Hadn’t you ought to wait ’til she comes back down?” Creech asked.

  “What for?”

  “What about Bordeaux?” Kid Dingo asked. “You goin’ to come up and join us?”

  “Might as well,” Reid tossed back over his shoulder as he started up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

  “How was your trip into town?” Elmer asked when Duff returned with a bag of his purchases hanging from his saddle.

  “It was good trip,” Duff said. “And I got some coffee.” He pulled a sack of coffee beans from the bag and handed it to Elmer.

  “Good. I’ll take this out to the cook so he can grind us some up,” Elmer said, holding the bag up. “By the way, how is Miss Parker doing?”

  “I dinnae get to spend much time with her. She is very busy. She is making a dress for Mrs. Guthrie.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything. Don’t you know that women just say things like that so they can test you?” Gleason asked.

  “Sure now, an’ what would she be testing me for, I ask?”

  “To see whether or not you are serious about her,” Gleason answered with the ease of one who considered himself an expert in such matters. “If you listen to her and stay away like she’s askin’ you to, then that’s exactly what she don’t want. What she does want is for you to do what s
he said she didn’t want you to do. Do you understand?”

  Duff smiled and shook his head. “I’m not sure that I do understand.”

  “Well, there ain’t no real need for you to understand, ’cause the more I try to explain it to you, the harder it’s goin’ to be for you, you not knowin’ women quite as much as I do. I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is, when she told you she was just real busy, you didn’t let her get away with it, did you?”

  “I have to go back into town tomorrow anyway, for ’tis some business I have with the bank. So I asked her to have lunch with me.”

  “When you asked her, did you say it was because you had to be in town tomorrow, anyway?”

  “Aye, for that is the truth of it,” Duff replied.

  Gleason shook his head in exasperation. “See now, Duff, that’s exactly what you don’t want to say. It makes it look like your main purpose for coming to town is so you can do some business with the bank. But a woman likes to think that you’re comin’ into town just to see her.”

  Duff thought about Meagan’s comment about him being “such a romantic” and realized then that this was what Elmer was talking about. He chuckled. “What can I say, Elmer? ’Tis a way you have with women that I don’t have.”

  “I know, but I’m tryin’ to bring you on, iffen you’d just listen to me.”

  “Now, Elmer, sure ’n’ if you know all there is to know about women, would you be for tellin’ me why I’ve any need to know? I’ve but to ask you when confronted with a problem too big for m’ wee brain to wrap around.”

  Gleason smiled broadly. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  At that moment, five miles outside of the town of Chugwater, six men were sitting around a fire, over which two rabbits were cooking.

  “While you was in town, we rounded up the horses we’re goin’ to need,” Johnny said. “But we got to keep ’em tied up good tonight, ’cause if they was to get loose, like as not they’d go on back to where we took ’em from.”

  “I ain’t never been to Chugwater,” Al Short said.

  “Ain’t none of us been there,” Johnny said, “which is why I chose it to rob. Won’t nobody know anything about us. Except now Emile has been there.”

  “What’s the town like?” Calhoun asked.

  “They got a good restaurant in town,” Emile Taylor said. “It’s called the City Cafe. They got a good hotel too, called the Antlers Hotel. We could be eatin’ a meal of steak and taters, fresh-baked bread, maybe some apple pie, then spend the night in a bed. Instead, we’re out here fixin’ to eat rabbit, then go to sleep on the ground. How come that is?”

  “I told you why,” Johnny said. “I don’t want us to be seen in town.”

  “Why not? We ain’t done nothin’ yet.”

  “Not yet. But tomorrow we are going to hold up a bank. If we was to go in there now and folks get a good chance to look at all of us, then tomorrow, once we hit the bank, ever’one is goin’ to remember seein’ us. That’s why I told you not to do anythin’ that would get you noticed while you were in town.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Nobody noticed you, did they?” Johnny asked.

  “No, I kept to myself. Didn’t do nothin’ but have a drink and case the bank like you said.”

  “Where is the bank?”

  “It’s the Chugwater Bank and Trust on Clay Avenue, halfway between First and Second Street.”

  “Did you check for an alley?”

  “Yeah, there’s an alley right behind the bank. All we have to do is follow it north, and we’ll be out of town within a minute.”

  “And you’re sure nobody noticed you? I mean, you didn’t start drinking and do something dumb, did you?”

  “Why? What have you heard?” Emile asked, nervously.

  “I haven’t heard anything,” Johnny replied. “Is there somethin’ I should have heard?”

  Emile thought of his run-ins with Kennedy and the Scotsman.

  “No, nothin’ happened,” he said. “I was just wonderin’ why you was askin’ is all.”

  “Looks like the rabbits is done,” Johnny said. “Let’s eat.”

  Chapter Nine

  In Chugwater, Meagan Parker had a light supper then took a cup of coffee out onto the balcony and stood there for a moment, enjoying the coolness of the evening. She lived in a small, but very nice apartment over her place of business. In her shop downstairs, a nearly finished blue dress was fitted to a dress form. Meagan was making the dress based on a woodcut Mrs. Guthrie had brought to her.

  “I cut this picture out of the San Francisco Chronicle ,” Mrs. Guthrie had said when she’d approached Meagan about the dress. “And I think it is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Do you think you could make me one that looks just like it?”

  “I’m sure I can, Juanita. What color do you want?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. What do you think would be nice?”

  “I have some blue velvet that I think would work perfectly. And it would bring out the blue of your eyes, beautifully,” Meagan had said.

  Mrs. Guthrie had beamed, and touched her hair. “Then by all means, make it blue.”

  That had been four days ago, and Meagan was nearly finished with the dress. She had promised it by tomorrow, and she intended to have it done by then, even if it took her all night. Besides, she had other plans for tomorrow. Tomorrow she was having lunch with Duff MacCallister.

  She smiled as she recalled what Vi had told her Elmer had said to Duff about her.

  “She’s all sass and spirit, with a face as brown as all outdoors, and yeller hair as bright as the sun. She’s as pretty as a newborn colt and as trustin’ as a loyal hound dog. Why, she could capture your heart in a minute if you would but give her the chance.”

  Meagan was giving Duff every chance she could. She was a pretty girl, and there had been men in her life, men who had shown interest in her. But not until she’d met Duff MacCallister had she found the man who she really wanted to show interest.

  When Meagan Parker was twelve years old, both of her parents had been killed in a riverboat accident. She could still remember the pain and sorrow of their loss. And the fear, the absolute, mind-numbing fear of being alone.

  What would happen to her?

  She needn’t have worried, because even though her grandmother had already been very old, she’d stepped in and raised Meagan as if she were her own. Meagan and her grandmother had had a wonderful relationship, and when her grandmother had died, three days after Meagan’s nineteenth birthday, the pain and sorrow had been as great as it had been when her own parents had died.

  Meagan had been in college at the time, and although losing her grandmother had been a terrible emotional blow to her, it hadn’t been a financial blow because she still had the money that had been left to her by her parents, over which her grandmother had been a good steward. And by selling her grandmother’s house, she had added to her coffer. As a result, she’d been able to finish her education without experiencing any financial burden at all.

  She had gone to college to be a schoolteacher, but her grandmother, who had been a seamstress, had taught Meagan how to design, cut cloth, and sew women’s clothes. It was a skill that Meagan had picked up easily, and one she enjoyed.

  “I know you are studying to be a teacher and teaching is a good thing, but it is also good to have something to fall back on,” her grandmother had told her. “That’s why I think you should learn how to sew. Folks are always going to need clothes.”

  What Meagan especially enjoyed was creating original dresses and gowns. She had a great talent for it, and as it turned out, that advice may have been the most valuable thing Meagan Parker’s grandmother had left her. She had come to Chugwater to be a schoolteacher only to learn when she arrived that another woman had already been hired. She’d been about to return to St. Louis when she had been given the opportunity to buy a dress emporium, and she’d had just enough money left over to do that. Contrary to the popular belief th
at women had no head for business, Meagan had an acute business sense and the Ladies’ Emporium was one of the most profitable business establishments in Chugwater. Her business acumen was not only manifested by the success of her shop, but also by the fact that she was valued and respected member of the Chugwater Association of Business Owners. It had been, before Meagan became a member, the Chugwater Association of Businessmen.

  And now Meagan was extending her business holdings by investing in the cattle Duff was raising. It, too, had proven to be a very good investment, but she hadn’t done it for the economic return. She had done it because it ensured a physical connection between them.

  She was looking forward to the luncheon engagement with Duff tomorrow, and wondered if she was doing the right thing by not pressing him into more of a commitment.

  “Meagan, you need a better understanding of men,” Vi had told her. “They are cowards when it comes to women. I know, I know—I would be the last person to call Duff a coward about anything, Lord knows he has proven his bravery enough times. But all men have a weakness when it comes to advancing their relationship with women. They have to be led into it.”

  She thought of Duff, and wondered what he was doing and what he was thinking about at that very moment.

  Duff was in bed at that very moment, but Meagan would not be happy if she knew what he was thinking. Because he was thinking about the young woman he had met at Fiddler’s Green today. She had looked so much like Skye McGregor that it had nearly taken his breath away. He knew that looks weren’t everything—there had been much more to Skye than her flaming red hair, bright blue eyes, and slender curves. Skye had been intelligent, with a well-developed sense of humor, but most of all, she’d had a good heart. He had never met another woman like her.

  Until he’d met Meagan.

  That’s funny, he thought. Although Meagan looked nothing like Skye, anytime he thought of another woman who most reminded him of Skye, he didn’t think of the girl he had met in the saloon today, even though she looked so much like Skye that they could be sisters.