Guthrey told him, “I sold a small lot of fat steers about three months ago to butchers in Tucson—we rented some fenced pasture so they could butcher them as they needed them. It worked and we only made one drive over there, which saved us money and time.”
“Maybe we need to form a ranchers group to do that.”
“It might work, but the Tucson Ring would figure out how to beat you out of it. They have a strong force in deciding what happens in the territory.”
Thayer agreed. “I guess we will have to take the old man’s prices.”
“Those Ring people are beyond my reach, but if I ever can get to them,” Guthrey said, “I’ll have them all on trial.”
“I believe you will.” The three laughed.
“Your food was delicious, Nell. Thanks.”
“You will stay the night, won’t you?” she asked. “Neither of us get much company up here and talking with you is great.”
“I bet that she’d bake a cake or pie if you would.”
Guthrey chuckled. “I will.”
“There, he’s going to stay, Nell. What will it be?”
“Pie. I have some raisins and dry apples.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Guthrey said. “I’ll definitely stay.”
He left them after Nell’s big breakfast spread and rode on the north trail to the main road and turned west to head for Steward’s Crossing. He rode though the rock pile called Texas Canyon. A favorite place where they used to hold up stages before he moved into the sheriff’s office.
So those reported shifty strangers must have, like Billy the Kid, simply ridden on. He could find no trace of them and figured it wasn’t worth more of his time trying. It was the Carlsons’ killer that he needed to find.
ELEVEN
GUTHREY WAS BACK at the ranch by noontime. The wagon was there so he knew Cally had her help.
“Wash up, our guests are here,” she shouted to him from the open door.
“I’m coming.”
He hitched his weary horse, loosened the cinch, and hurried across the yard. On the porch he used the warm water she’d poured out for him to wash his hands and face.
“They have a new baby boy.” She was breathlessly excited beside him. “He’s so sweet. They call him Manuel.”
“I told you they were nice people. They made it all right?”
“Oh yes, and we emptied the shed for them until we can get them a house built.”
He kissed her. She smiled and hugged him. “Find anything?”
“No. Your brother here?” he asked under his breath.
“No. I haven’t seen him since before you left.”
He glanced around. Dan needed a good kick in the ass. The cattle were his job to take care of—checking for screwworm control was his job. Guthrey swept off his hat and spoke to the family, who were gathered in the room. Guermo rose and came to shake his hand.
“So nice of you to send Noble to get us. I was coming but I would have been much slower.” Their younger ones were seated on the floor and all grinned when Guthrey passed out hard candy.
“How are you, Deloris?” Guthrey asked.
“Fine, senor.” She showed him the new baby wrapped in a flannel blanket.
“Aren’t little children sweet?” Cally asked.
“Yes. How are you, Noble?”
“Mighty fine. You find anything?”
Guthrey shook his head. “No sign of anything.”
“I better check the cattle tomorrow, huh?” Noble asked.
“Someone needs to do that.”
“No problem.”
Guthrey spoke up, “You find any need to be roped, you leave them and get me. We can talk tomorrow.”
“Sure.”
“I can ride and rope, senor. I was raised on a large hacienda in Mexico.”
“There, you have your helper.”
Noble bobbed his head and smiled.
“Will you have to leave tomorrow?” Cally asked quietly.
“I need to find that killer before he repeats the crime. I may be in the saddle most of the time until I do.”
She nodded and squeezed his hand. “I understand, Phil.”
“I will try to be back for the dance. I spoke to Mark’s wife, Olive. He was gone, and then I went on to the Thayers’. They told me to tell Noble hi. They like visitors and they don’t get many. But no one down there has seen any strangers.”
“Those two never came back to the old ranch where we were at,” Guermo said.
Guthrey chuckled. “Maybe the earth swallowed them.” Hell, he didn’t know where they went.
His wife’s food tasted good to him and he mentioned it to her. She nodded, pleased that he said that.
* * *
THERE WAS NO sign of Dan when Guthrey watched the sky turn from faint pink to purple rising over the distant tall ranges north of the Chiricahuas. For two bits he’d go find him and sober him up with a swift kick in his ass, maybe punish him all over town. What in the Sam Hill was wrong with that boy? He and his family had worked hard to build a small ranch against all odds. They made it and he dropped off into self-pity, or was drowning himself in whiskey, which was just as bad.
Noble came up out onto the porch in the cool air to where Guthrey was holding up a porch post. “Where is he?” he softly asked the old man.
“Steward’s Crossing. Some gal named Effie. I think he’s got a jacal off south of town.”
“I’ll find him.” Guthrey blew his breath out of his nose. Damn. He’d do it before he went to the county seat that morning.
“Breakfast is ready,” Cally said from the doorway.
“If I can get this old codger inside, we’ll eat,” Guthrey teased.
“I’m following ya,” Noble said.
“Good. Your new ranch hand is waiting for us.”
“Ah, Guermo, buenos días, senor,” Noble said, as though he hadn’t just seen him that morning, and rambled off in Spanish at the new man.
Cally laughed. “Don’t let them tease you, Guermo. They do that to new ones.”
“Oh, senora, I am so glad to be here and have a job, they can tease me all the time.”
“I understand that,” she said and shook her head at her two men.
Breakfast passed and Guthrey saddled his restless paint stallion. His wife was standing on the corral rails and smiling as she watched him saddle up. “Will he buck you off today?”
“I hope not.”
“Oh, that would be embarrassing with two hired hands watching it happen,” she said, tossing her head at the other two getting Guermo fixed up with a horse.
Guthrey caught the cheek strap and drew Cochise’s head to his left side. May as well start making a white man’s horse out of him. In the saddle he flew and, keeping the horse’s head high up, nodded for Cally to open the gate as the paint danced on his toes.
She swung it back and Cochise came out on his toes. “You be careful, Phil Guthrey. I need you. He still looks like he may go to flying.”
“Aw, he’s just full of energy. I’ll be back when I can, but especially on Saturday.”
“I will be here.”
He let the horse out. Cochise single-footed at first, and once free from the bit on the road, Guthrey let him out. With his face in the wind created by Cochise running, Guthrey headed for town. What a powerful horse, a little headstrong, but Guthrey enjoyed managing him.
Before he reached the village, Guthrey had Cochise down to a walk and went by his deputy’s house. Ike Sweeney was still on the porch, and his wife had brought out coffee by the time Guthrey had his horse hitched securely.
Guthrey thanked her, took the cup, and sat on the wooden chair. “Everything all right in town?”
“It is, sir.”
“Where is my brother-in-law, Dan, denned up at?”
&nbs
p; “Oh, go down Mesquite Street to the foot of the hill. That place is on the right. You can’t miss it. An adobe shack with a brush stick corral out front. You’ll see it.”
He looked around to be certain they were alone. “Who is she?”
The older man frowned. “She worked up in the big house before he moved her down there.”
“Did anyone complain?”
“Naw. Oh, some church ladies told my wife I should make her move on, but nothing serious.”
“Well, keep your eye out for the redheaded murderer. And, Ike, don’t you try to take him by yourself. The man is a rabid killer.”
“I get any word or see him, you’ll know about it.”
“I damn sure don’t want to have to take care of your wife. Love her, but I want you here to take care of her.”
“I’m careful enough.”
“Stay that way. I’m going to Tucson to see what I can learn about him.”
“They brought them army prisoners through here in a jail wagon. They were chained in that iron barred wagon. Hot as hell and lots of tough uniform guards riding with them.”
“I heard about it.”
“Good luck and you be safe. Folks sure like having law and order.”
* * *
AFTER GUTHREY LEFT, he rode over the hill to the shack Sweeney had told him about. He sat on his big horse at the front door. Wrapped in a robe held shut with her hand and unkempt hair hanging in her face, a girl came to the door and squinted against the sunlight.
“Who are you?” she mumbled.
“Tell Dan to get out here.”
“Who is it, Effie?” Dan called out.
“Some guy and a huge paint horse’s standing in my damn doorway.”
“Get back,” Dan pulled her aside. “What do you want, Guthrey?”
Phil checked Cochise. “I want you sobered up and back on the ranch where you belong. If you’re going to live with her, then marry her. If I have to come back here to get you, you will go home belly down over a horse. Am I clear?”
“You aren’t any kin to me. You can’t order me around.”
“Listen, I can bust your ass, but I think you know better than to want me to do that. Get home. Be a man and grow up. You have three days to do that. Noble and the new man need help. If you take yourself back, don’t pick on them or your sister or you will answer to me.”
“He ain’t your father,” the girl whined. “He can’t make you do nothing.”
“If he don’t marry you, girl, you be on the next stage out of here.”
“You can’t—”
“I can by law run undesirable people out of my jurisdiction. So you have my word.” He checked his horse again. “Dan, I mean just what I said here. Get your ass in gear.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. With Cochise reined around, he short loped for town and headed for the county seat. He spoke to Baker briefly. Everything was in hand, so he left for Tucson. He needed to see the sheriff plus the butchers he knew; maybe one of them could give him a hint that would tell him what he needed to do to find this killer. The man might be selling stolen beef, and the butchers there might recognize him from his description.
The stableman in Tucson wanted fifty cents more a day to keep his stallion and grumbled about having him. It was midafternoon and the temperature was sweltering in the walled city. Narrow streets and poor sanitation made the small city even less desirable to be in.
Guthrey found Sheriff Ramos in his office, a stuffy place that stunk of cigars. The man welcomed him and showed him a chair. This was their first face-to-face meeting. Carlos Ramos was a man who was big around and not so tall. He wore a tan uniform and had a thick mustache. His oily hair was curly and he spoke with a Mexican accent.
“Nice to meet you at last. Have a seat. What brings you to Tucson on such a hot day?”
“Thanks. I had a bloody murder of a family in my district about a month ago. Then another murder of a huge white man. The man must have worn a size sixteen boot. I think he was involved in the first murder because I have his footprints from the scene.”
“As I wired to you earlier, I think Johnny Cord is your dead man.”
“You knew him?”
“I had him in and out of my jail. He was a thief and a bully. My deputies hated him. He was hard to arrest when he was drunk.”
“And a redheaded man was with him.”
“Randy Looman. He was in Yuma twice, and the last time he escaped. I do not know where he was at.”
“He was up in Crook County, and some Mexican people saw him but did not know his name. In his thirties, five foot eight, real red hair.”
“That’s Looman. He was in jail for raping a teenage girl. And they say he’s shot some men in the back but there were no witnesses.”
“He shot Cord for some reason. A deputy and I dug up the grave.”
Ramos shook his head at the notion. “In this heat that’s a bad job to have to do.”
“A very bad job, but part of it. I have a finely made goatskin glove from the murder scene purportedly made by a woman named Ramona Garcia.”
Ramos shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know her. But people said you were a tough lawman. They did not tell me how determined you are, that you’d dig up a dead man in summer. I am amazed at you.”
“Thanks, but it’s not me, it’s my men. There was no law in Crook County before I took office. A major rancher was forcing people to leave by strong-arm tactics. Forcing people to sell out at ridiculously low prices. Arrested criminals were turned loose. Drunks were wearing badges and forcing people to do their will.”
“It’s a wonder they didn’t shoot you.”
“They tried.”
“You got a big reward for getting the stage robbers, no?”
“I paid all of that to my men.”
“Oh my. What else can I do for you?”
“Need some leads on where I can find this Looman.”
“Maybe on the border. I don’t have any information to help you or I would send my men down there to arrest him.”
“You have any information where on the border he might be hiding?”
“No. But don’t go down there by yourself looking around. You won’t come back.”
“You know of a Mexican outlaw named Royal Montoya?”
“Yes. What did he do?”
“He stole a rancher’s horses in my district and went to Mexico. Four of us tracked them down there into Sonora. They had a big fiesta that night and we stole the horses back plus all of his too.”
Ramos broke into laughter. “They told the story different than that. A big mob of supposed American ranchers charged them, shot his men up, and stole their horses.”
Guthrey shook his head at the man. “We caught two herder boys, tied them up, and took those ponies for the border. Never fired a shot. Four of us.”
Ramos laughed some more. “That is some story.”
“They must have set off a couple hundred dollars’ worth of fireworks partying while we rode like hell for the border.”
“Four men is all you had?”
“Yes, and one is close to eighty years old.”
“If I ever have any problems, I will call on you. Sorry I can’t help you more.”
“I’ll find a way.” Guthrey shook the man’s hand and excused himself.
After his meeting, he rode out to talk to the man who’d rented him the pastureland when he’d brought some steers up to sell there. He found him on his porch in a worn-out chair.
“You need more pasture?”
“No, sir. Not today. I am looking for an outlaw named Looman.”
“I never met him personally. He escaped jail in Yuma last I heard. He had a woman at one time named Sheila who still lives in the barrio. If you could find her maybe she would tell you where he hides. She
’ll want money but she’s a cheap puta, so it won’t cost much and she’d probably share her bed with you besides telling you where he could be.”
Guthrey sure didn’t need her body, but if she knew anything about Looman, he wanted that information so he could pursue him. Politely he thanked the man and told him that when he needed more pasture he’d sure contact him.
“I could sure use the rent.”
* * *
HE CROSSED THE shallow river and went back to town. Headed for the barrio, he stopped to get more information about this woman Sheila from a few folks along the way. The dirt street was choked with carretas, saddled sleepy burros, and many shopping women. There were cloth shades over the produce stands. A butcher chopped meat off fly-speckled carcasses on a blood-darkened wooden block, his apron badly stained red with blood. He wiped his hands on it and then wrapped a purchase in paper for the woman who paid him in coins.
“I’m looking for woman called Shelia,” Guthrey said to him.
“Ah, such a woman, huh?” The big man laughed like he knew her secrets. “If she is the one you look for, senor, she works across the street in the Estria Cantina.” He waved a big ham of a hand. “Right over there.”
“Thanks.” Guthrey put Chochise in the livery, then moved through the traffic on foot and pushed open the once-white batwing doors with the peeling paint.
He let his eyes adjust to the smoky darkness of the interior.
“Come in, senor,” said a sleepy-eyed woman with a tray on her hip, looking him up and down. “What can I get you?”
“A beer and ten cents’ worth of information.” If she wasn’t Shelia, he’d soon find out.
“Take a table?”
He motioned to one.
“I’ll bring the beer.”
“Good.” He pushed his hat back and moved to sit down with his back to the wall.
When she returned and delivered his beer, he indicated the chair across from him.
Her dark eyes checked him hard. “You want me?”
She set the tray on the table and adjusted her blouse to better expose the tops of her full breasts.
“What do you know about Looman?” He tossed her a silver dollar.
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