by Smith, Bobbi
When Clint realized the gang had made camp near a stream about half a mile ahead of him, he found a secluded place to tie up his horse some distance away. Then, taking his rifle, he made his way on foot through the darkness to a good vantage point where he could keep watch on the camp.
Clint settled down, in tense anticipation of the day to come.
In just a few hours, he would learn the identity of the murderous leader of the deadly gang.
Chapter Twenty-one
“When is the Boss going to show up?” Walt complained as the gang bided their time at their campsite the following morning. “I was looking forward to spending the day in Dry Springs. I had a real good time with that girl Dixie last night, and I was wanting to look her up again today.”
“Dixie ain’t going nowhere,” Tuck told him. “She’ll be ready and waiting for you when you show up.”
“I like the way you think, Tuck,” Walt said with a grin as he imagined the voluptuous, redheaded saloon girl doing just that.
“What do you think the Boss will say about McCullough’s demand to meet with him before the robbery?” Ax worried.
“It’s gonna depend on how much he wants us to pull off this job. We need McCullough riding with us, so the Boss may agree to do it,” Tuck answered.
“Do you think McCullough’s as bad as his reputation says he is?” Walt asked.
“Why don’t you call him out and find out?” Ax said, chuckling at the thought.
“One of these days I may just do that,” Walt responded, imagining the glory that would be his if he could take down a fast gun like McCullough. He added quickly, “But not until after we take care of this next job.”
“Good thinking,” Tuck replied sarcastically as he looked over at the younger man. Walt had been riding with them for quite a while now. Tuck trusted him, but knew Walt had a wild streak. He hoped that wild streak didn’t end up getting the younger man into trouble.
“Since you’re looking for some action, come on,” Ax challenged, pointing at a target he’d set up. “Let’s see how good you are this morning.”
“You’re on,” Walt said, ready to hone his skills.
The two moved away to practice for a while.
Tuck stayed at the campsite to wait for the Boss to show up. He knew it might be afternoon before he actually arrived, but it didn’t matter.
He wasn’t called the Boss for nothing.
As it happened, it was just past noon when they caught sight of the Boss riding in. Tuck was relieved to see him, for they still had a lot of planning to do for the robbery.
“It’s about time you showed,” Tuck said with a grin. He watched the Boss rein in and dismount.
“Sometimes a man has to work,” he answered, looking at the three of them gathered there.
“We’re just about set to go,” Ax said.
“So McCullough’s in?” the Boss asked, looking to Tuck for confirmation.
“He said he was interested, but he wouldn’t agree to work with us until he’d met with you first.”
“What?” the Boss exploded. “How did he even find out about me?”
“When I was talking to him, telling him how we worked, I mentioned our Boss, and he called me on it. He said he only deals with the Boss and nobody else. He wouldn’t agree to ride with us until he’d talked to you.”
The Boss swore vilely at Tuck. “You’re an incompetent fool! Why didn’t you tell him you were in charge? You know I don’t want my connection to any of this revealed. That Ranger—Frank Williams—was the only one smart enough to figure it out, and that’s why we killed him. No one outside of the three of you is supposed to even know I exist!”
“I know,” Tuck replied, his tone apologetic.
“You know? That doesn’t change what happened with McCullough, does it? What did you tell him?”
“I told him I was meeting with you today, and I’d let him know your answer this afternoon.”
“Well, here’s what you tell him,” the Boss directed. “You tell him I only meet with men I trust, and he hasn’t proven himself to me yet. If he works with you and the boys to pull off the job successfully, then I’ll meet with him afterward when everything’s calmed down—but not before.”
“What if he refuses?” Tuck asked. He liked to be prepared for the worst.
“Then you’d better have another plan figured out on how to get this payroll with just the three of you. It’s too big to let it go,” he ordered harshly. “Do you understand me?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. When are you going to talk to McCullough again?”
“He’s waiting to hear from us now. I’m supposed to contact him when we get back to town.”
“I’ll find a way to meet up with you later tonight, so you can let me know what he says.”
“I’ll be looking for you.”
In total disgust, the Boss mounted up. After giving Tuck one last cold-eyed look, he rode away and didn’t look back.
From first light, Clint had been keeping watch over the outlaws’ camp from his vantage point. When he’d first spotted the lone horseman coming, he’d grown excited. He’d known this had to be the Boss, for no one else would be meeting with the gang in this out-of-the-way location.
As the rider had closed in, Clint had been able to get a better look at him.
The man riding openly into the gang’s campsite had been none other than Sheriff Pete Reynolds.
Clint had been shocked.
Was the lawman the secret leader of the Tucker Gang?
A wide range of tumultuous emotions had rocked him. Clint’s first instinct had been to grab his rifle and shoot Pete down in cold blood. He’d wanted to see him die in the same way his family had been killed.
Clint had controlled the urge, though, and had waited to see if his suspicion might be proven wrong. He’d even hoped that the sheriff might have tracked Tuck, Ax, and Walt down for some trouble they’d caused in town after he’d parted company with them the night before. But the welcome the sheriff had received from Tuck and the others had disabused Clint of that notion.
After watching them together, he had had no doubt.
The gunmen had known who Pete was.
Pete was the Boss.
Rage unlike anything Clint had ever known had filled him. No wonder the posse had turned back after such a short time tracking the outlaws who’d tried to rob the stagecoach. It had been Pete’s gang who’d attempted the robbery. It all made sense to Clint now.
Clint had wanted to take the gang out right then and there.
He’d lifted his rifle and taken careful aim.
He’d been smiling a cold, deadly smile when he centered Pete in his sights.
He had been all set to pull the trigger.
And then the memory of Martin’s words from the night of the wedding had come back to haunt him. “Remember that the Lord said, ‘Vengeance is mine.’ You weren’t raised to be like the killers. You’re not a cold-blooded murderer. You’re a Texas Ranger. Arrest them and bring them to justice. Let the law punish them.”
The words “You weren’t raised to be like the killers,” had echoed in his mind and in his heart. He’d thought of his parents and of how his father had been working so hard to bring in the Tucker Gang. He’d recalled their last conversation: His father had told him that he’d never seen more cold blooded murderers than these men.
At this memory, Clint had realized that he wasn’t like them—he wasn’t a cold-blooded murderer—and he’d known what he had to do.
He had to bring them in.
Clint had lowered his rifle. He had continued his surveillance until their meeting had come to an end. When Pete had mounted up and ridden out of their camp, he was ready. He’d waited until Pete was far enough ahead of him, then mounted his own horse and ridden for town.
The gang would be contacting him later that day to let him know what the Boss had said about meeting with him. But before he ever heard from them, he intended to have already
“met up” with the Boss.
Clint was going to take care of Pete right now.
Pete was angry with Tuck as he rode back toward Dry Springs. He’d never thought the man was particularly smart, but he’d believed Tuck had enough sense to keep the truth about his involvement with the gang quiet. He’d been wrong. The man was an idiot.
Pete swore under his breath as he thought about what might happen next. Kane McCullough was no ordinary fast gun. From what he’d learned, the man was smart and he was deadly, and that could prove dangerous. McCullough would be an asset to the gang, but only if he cooperated and did what he was told. They needed someone who would work with them and be happy with his share of the take. Judging from what he’d heard from Tuck, the gunslinger might not be their man. One way or the other, Pete knew he would find out later that day.
Pete liked being in control of things, and his mood grew even blacker as he neared town. He was seriously considering checking out the saloons, just to pick a fight or two and stir up some trouble. He’d be able to work off some of his anger and frustration on unsuspecting drunks. The idea had merit, and he made up his mind to do just that after checking in with Nick at the sheriff’s office.
Pete reined in before the jail and dismounted. He headed inside to find that Nick was not there. In a way, Pete was glad. He wanted some time alone before he went out to make his rounds of the saloons.
Clint reached town and left his horse at the stable. Taking his rifle, with him, he started off toward the sheriff’s office. He’d had plenty of time on the ride back to plan what he was going to do. By the time this day was over, he hoped justice would be served.
As Clint neared the jail, he didn’t see anyone around. That was good. Things might turn ugly, and he didn’t want any innocents getting hurt.
He strode to the door of the sheriff’s office and walked in.
“McCullough—” Pete looked up from where he was sitting at the desk as Clint came through the door. “What are you doing here?”
Clint closed the door behind him and then turned to bring his rifle to bear on the sheriff. “I was looking for you.”
“What the—” Pete was surprised by the other man’s actions and started to reach for the gun he kept in his top desk drawer for moments like this.
“Don’t even think about it,” Clint ordered in a deadly tone, knowing exactly what Pete was trying to do.
“All right.” Pete went still and remained unmoving, trying to figure out what was going on. If McCullough planned to join up with Tuck and the others, it made no sense to cause trouble in town like this. And if he was going to cause trouble in town, why would he go after the sheriff? Why hadn’t he robbed the bank or one of the stagecoaches that had been passing through?
“Get up and move away from the desk. Keep your hands where I can see them.” Clint shifted his position to keep his back to the wall as he kept the rifle trained on the Boss. He didn’t want anybody coming into the office behind him.
“What’s this all about?” Pete demanded as he got to his feet and did as the gunman had directed.
“You can ask Tuck and Ax when you see them again. They can tell you.”
“Who are Tuck and Ax?” Pete asked, playing dumb.
“I was at the campsite this morning. I saw everything. I know who you are, and I know what you do.”
“Tuck is one dumb son of a bitch,” Pete swore as he realized how Tuck’s stupid remarks the night before had given everything away. McCullough had just proven he was every bit as smart as his reputation had claimed he was. Pete relaxed and grinned at the other man, believing he was just there trying to impress him with how clever he was. “I hadn’t planned to meet with you ahead of time, but I’d say it looks like I don’t have much choice, doesn’t it?”
The fact that Pete was smiling at him only made Clint more furious.
“Wipe that smile off your face,” he ordered in a cold, deadly voice. He motioned toward the back room where the jail cells were and directed, “Keep walking.”
“Wait a minute—” Pete argued, believing this was some kind of game McCullough was playing and that he could still take control of the situation.
Clint quickly put an end to that belief as he said, “It wouldn’t bother me at all to put a bullet in you right now, so don’t try anything. Just turn around.”
When Pete did as he’d ordered, Clint closed the distance between them and grabbed Pete’s gun out of his gun belt. He shoved him in the direction of the back room.
“Move.”
Clint didn’t trust him for a minute. He was ready for anything Pete might try. It actually surprised him when he didn’t put up a fight or try to get away.
“You know my deputy is due back here at any time,” Pete said, hoping to make McCullough nervous.
“Good, then Nick will be the first to find out that the real leader of the Tucker Gang is behind bars,” Clint told him as he shoved him forcefully into the empty cell and slammed the door shut, locking it and pocketing the key.
Pete turned and glared through the bars of the jail cell. He finally realized there was more going on here than just a gunfighter wanting to prove something to him. “Who are you?”
Clint looked him in the eye as he answered, “Does the name Frank Williams mean anything to you?”
Pete went still at the mention of the Ranger’s name. Warily, he answered, “He’s dead.”
“I know. I was there when it happened,” Clint said quietly as he faced the sheriff down. A part of him still wanted to pull the trigger right then and there and claim his revenge. “He was my father.”
“You’re—” Shock radiated through Pete as he realized whom he was facing.
“That’s right, I’m Clint Williams.”
“But they said you were dead—”
Clint smiled coldly at him. “They were wrong.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Pete was cursing Clint as he watched him turn and walk back into the front office. Clint closed the door to the cell area so he wouldn’t have to listen to him.
A feeling of some satisfaction filled Clint.
He had Pete behind bars, and that was good.
But it wasn’t over yet.
He still had to bring in Tuck, Ax, and Walt—the real killers—the men who’d actually done the shooting that fateful night. Clint was exhausted, but too tense to rest. He didn’t know if they’d made it into town yet or not, but as soon as he could, he planned to head over to the Last Chance to look for them.
Pete had mentioned that Nick might show up at any time, so Clint sat down at the desk to wait for the deputy. He kept his rifle by his side, just in case there was any kind of trouble.
It had been a quiet day in Dry Springs, and Nick was in a good mood as he returned to the sheriff’s office and saw Pete’s horse tied up out front. He’d known Pete had had some personal business to take care of earlier that day, and he was glad the sheriff was back, for it was almost Nick’s quitting time. He walked into the office.
“Kane—?” Nick stopped just inside the door to find himself staring at the gunslinger. Kane was seated at the sheriff’s desk, holding a rifle.
“Hello, Nick,” Clint said easily. His manner appeared relaxed, but in truth he was tense, worrying about the deputy’s reaction to finding him there.
“What are you doing here? Where’s Pete?” Nick looked around, confused.
“He’s in back, but first we need to talk,” Clint said, not shifting his position at all, still holding the weapon.
“What do you mean, Pete’s in back?”
“Nick!”
Nick heard Pete’s shout even through the closed door and thought it sounded like he was in trouble.
“What is going on around here?” He started to go for his sidearm as he headed for the closed door.
“Don’t,” Clint ordered in a steely tone as he got to his feet with the rifle in his hands.
Nick stopped and looked at him.
“There are
a few things you need to know about Pete,” Clint began. Then, seeing Nick’s wary expression, he added, “Hear me out.”
“I’d say it looks like I don’t have much choice,” Nick returned, angry that he’d been caught off guard and was now cornered.
“You won’t be sorry,” Clint assured him.
“All right,” Nick told him cautiously. “Talk.”
“First off, my name’s not Kane McCullough. I’m Clint Williams, and up until recently I was a Texas Ranger.”
“What?” Nick exclaimed in surprise.
“That’s right. The Tucker Gang attacked and killed my family. I was shot and left for dead, but I managed to recover. I turned in my badge and came after the gang on my own. I learned just today that Pete Reynolds was the leader of the gang.”
“Pete’s in with the Tucker Gang?” Nick repeated in shock.
“That’s right. Why do you think the posse was so quick to give up on tracking down the outlaws who tried to rob the stage? It was because Pete realized the outlaws were his gang, and he didn’t want to bring them in.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m deadly serious.”
“So where’s the gang?”
“They’re still here in the area. I tracked them down last night and kept them under surveillance today. That’s how I found out Pete was their leader. I saw him meeting with them earlier today, and then I followed him back to town from their camp. There are three gunmen in the gang, and they should be showing up here in town any time now. They’re expecting me to join up with them and help them pull off the robbery of an Army payroll that’s passing through the area. Pete’s already got the whole robbery planned out.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?” Nick challenged. “Why should I believe any of what you’re telling me?”
“You should believe me because it’s the truth,” Clint answered seriously. “If you need someone to confirm what I just told you, you can send a telegram to Ranger Captain Meyers. He’ll back me up on everything.”