Red Water

by J. R. Roberts

  Someone knocked on the door, so Pearl strode over to answer it. “That might be Gertrude,” she said as she casually closed her robe. “She’ll want to collect your money.”

  Laramie didn’t bother opening his eyes. He just listened to the squeak of the door’s hinges, followed by a voice that was much too rough to have come from the woman with the silver hair in the sitting room.

  “If you two are finished, I’d like to have a word with that fella.”

  Laramie’s eyes snapped open. He saw the smooth lines of Pearl’s back before she stepped aside to reveal Clint standing in the doorway.

  “Throw some clothes on, kid,” Clint said. “And leave the gun on the floor.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  Clint stepped into the room and looked around. “Someone told me this was the nicest cathouse in the county. Looks to me like they were right.”

  “This isn’t a cathouse,” Pearl stated. “We entertain our gentlemen as we see fit.”

  “Pardon me,” Clint said as he allowed himself to admire Pearl’s trim body. “Someone from Tanner Hall steered me here and they lumped this place in with the other cat—emporiums in the area.” Shifting his eyes to Laramie, he added, “But nobody needed to tell me that a young buck like you wouldn’t wait long before calling on a place like this.”

  Laramie squirmed on the bed. He’d pulled a blanket around to cover himself, but he didn’t have it in him to stand up and expose himself further to an armed man. Trying his best to keep his voice from wavering, he asked, “How’d you know I’d be here?”

  “I didn’t. I just had a hunch and put the word out to a few folks to keep their eyes open for someone like you and your partners to pay them a visit.”

  “That damn old bitch,” Laramie snarled through gritted teeth.

  Clint lunged forward to grab the kid by the chin. “Keep your tough talk to yourself. I want to know what you’re doing here.”

  “What the hell do you think I’m doing?”

  Nodding slowly as he backed up a step, Clint glanced at Pearl and asked, “You mind giving me and the kid the room for a few minutes? I need to have a word with him and it may not be suitable for the ears of a lady.”

  Still appalled at the way Laramie had spoken about the silver-haired madam of the house, Pearl wrapped her robe around herself even tighter and replied, “Just don’t leave a mess. From my experience, though, you won’t need much time before he’s all done anyway.”

  Laramie shook his head and started to mutter something to Pearl’s back, but stopped short when he saw the warning glare from Clint.

  “Don’t get too worked up, kid,” Clint said. “You play your cards right and you may just live long enough to get some more practice where women are concerned.”

  “Can I get dressed, or are you admiring the view?”

  “I told you to put some clothes on before, but you were too scared to move.” Sliding his boot beneath a rumpled pair of jeans, Clint kicked them to Laramie. “Here you go.”

  As he shoved his legs into his jeans, Laramie kept a scowl on his face and glared at Clint. Even though Clint wasn’t shaking under the petulant stare, Laramie kept it going anyhow.

  “So you’re Laramie, huh? I heard that other one call you Harvey.”

  “Everyone calls me Laramie,” he spat.

  “Why’s that?” Clint asked.

  “On account of all the trains I robbed that were going through Wyoming.”

  “Oh, so you’re a robber. What are you planning to rob here in Red Water?”

  Widening his smirk a bit more, the kid grunted, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Yeah,” Clint replied as he reached down to pick up the kid’s weathered Cavalry model six-shooter. “I would. And you’re going to tell me before I lose my patience.”

  “If you were the law, you would’a shown yer badge by now. If you were a bounty hunter, you wouldn’t give a rat’s ass what I was doing or why I was here.” With every point he made, Laramie edged closer to the side of the bed. By the time he settled his feet on the floor, he seemed to have regained most of his confidence. “And if you meant to use that gun of yours, you would’a skinned it already.”

  With that, Laramie launched off the bed and flew at Clint. His arms were outstretched and his lips were parted in a vicious snarl.

  Clint stood his ground just long enough for Laramie to commit himself, then stepped aside at the last second. When Laramie got within arm’s reach, Clint dropped one fist down on the younger man’s back like he was pounding a railroad spike into the ground.

  Laramie let out a grunt and landed on his belly. Before he even realized he was on Clint’s boot, he felt the boot come straight up to flop him onto his back. Clint looked down at him and shook his head.

  Sitting up, Laramie reached for the pistol in Clint’s hand. He wasn’t fast enough to get ahold of the weapon before it was pulled away. He scrambled to his feet, looked up, but couldn’t find Clint. Suddenly, he felt a hand drop onto his shoulder and turn him around. Clint’s fist slammed into Laramie’s mouth, knocking his head back and sending him staggering toward the bed.

  “That,” Clint told him, “was for trying to steal my horse. Now you’ll either tell me what you’re doing here in Red Water or things are bound to get a lot worse.”

  “Go to hell.” Laramie grunted.

  Clint rushed forward and shoved Laramie with enough force to send him toppling off the opposite side of the bed. As the kid tried to get his feet beneath him again, Clint walked around the bed and said, “Horse thieves are hanged just about anywhere. While I doubt you’re some known man or a train robber, I know you’re a horse thief. I’ll bet there are plenty of folks around here who would love to stretch that neck of yours.”

  Laramie crouched on the floor with his back against the wall. As soon as he saw Clint again, he growled, “Ain’t nobody’s been able to catch me!”

  Clint was prepared for the kid to take another run at him, so he’d tensed his stomach and planted his feet to prepare for the impact. Laramie’s shoulder slammed against him and the kid’s bare feet continued to scrape against the floor. Even though Clint maintained the upper hand so far, he was losing his grip on Laramie’s gun.

  When he saw Laramie trying to grab the modified Colt from him, Clint looped one arm down and across the kid’s chest so he could lift him up. Just to be safe, Clint swept one leg straight back to send the Cavalry model gun skidding toward the door.

  It was an awkward struggle, but Clint was strong enough to get the job done. The fact that Laramie’s legs cracked against the wall and bed frame also served to slow him down a bit as the bruises kept piling on top of each other.

  “You . . . might as well come clean, kid,” Clint said as he continued to wrestle with Laramie. “Tell me what I want to know and I might just . . .”

  Sneaking in a punch that Clint hadn’t braced for, Laramie was able to wriggle free and stagger away. He spotted his gun lying on the floor and dove for it. This time, he’d been fast enough to make his move before Clint could stop him. Unfortunately, his own momentum sent him reeling across the room until he knocked against a wall.

  Before Laramie could take aim, Clint drew his Colt and thumbed back the hammer. The motion wasn’t necessary to fire the weapon, but the metallic click of the mechanism was more than enough to freeze the kid in his tracks.

  “You’re right about one thing,” Clint said. “I could have killed you already if that was my intention, but I can still do it the moment you become more trouble than you’re worth.”

  Swearing under his breath, Laramie opened his hand and allowed his gun to hit the floor.

  “I already heard plenty from Marshal Flynt,” Clint said. “Perhaps you can tell me enough to warrant putting him away instead of you.”

  “The only one going away will be you. Chris and Samuel will gun you down as soon as you step foot outside this door.”

  “Really? So they just let you get knocked around for a laugh? Or mayb
e they didn’t hear any commotion? I’m sure they stuck around to make certain you weren’t in any trouble, even if it meant they’d get themselves caught along the way.”

  Judging by the darkening expression on Laramie’s face, he wasn’t having any trouble whatsoever picking up on the point Clint was making. As more seconds ticked by without any trace of help arriving, the kid’s face only grew darker.

  THIRTY-TWO

  Clint could hear footsteps racing down the hall the instant he kicked open the door. Keeping one hand locked around the back of Laramie’s neck, with his other hand he jammed the barrel of his Colt into the horse thief’s back and leaned forward to take a peek into the hall. When he saw who was racing to the room, he shoved the kid out in front of him and then stepped outside himself.

  “What is the meaning of all this commotion?” the silver-haired woman asked. “I demand to know or I’ll put all of you men out on your ears!”

  Pearl emerged from one of the other rooms and hurried to intercept the older woman before she got to Clint. “It’s all right, Gertrude.”

  The silver-haired madam turned her eyes toward the blonde, but it didn’t do much to lessen the anger written all over her face. “It’s a long cry from all right! It sounded like those two tore the room down!”

  “Don’t you remember Clint?” Pearl asked. “He came by this morning to let us know that those horse thieves might be coming by.”

  Swatting at the blonde as if she were swatting a fly, Gertrude replied, “Of course I remember! That’s why I allowed those filthy men into my house. But I didn’t agree to let him destroy my rooms and I sure didn’t agree to let those animals break my windows!”

  “What windows?” Clint asked.

  “The windows in the two rooms where those other two were being entertained,” the old woman shot back. “First I heard you two tussling in there and then I heard glass shattering! I couldn’t catch those two before they lit out of here, but I sure as hell can catch you!”

  Clint looked at the kid in his custody and was surprised he didn’t see steam shooting from his ears. Laramie’s face was red and his teeth were clamped tight enough to crack every last one of them.

  “And,” Gertrude continued, “they took off without paying me a dime!”

  By now, the hall was filled with women. Clint didn’t think any of them would make any wrong moves, but he was getting awfully distracted by all the pretty faces and ample curves on display. Before his mind was diverted too much further, he focused on Gertrude and said, “I intend on paying for all the damages.”

  “You’re damn right you are!”

  “And there’s a bonus in it for you if I could ask one more favor.”

  The silver-haired woman gnawed on the inside of her cheek, crossed her arms sternly, and asked, “How much of a bonus and what kind of favor?”

  “Do you have a cellar?”

  “Just a small one where we keep food and some old furniture.”

  “If I could impose on you to use your cellar to keep this young man here from getting away or being discovered by his partners, I’d make sure you get paid an additional hundred dollars for your trouble.”

  For the first time since she’d stormed down the hall, Gertrude looked as if she wasn’t going to wring someone’s neck. Even though her temper had eased up a bit, there was still a sharp edge to her voice when she asked, “Is that on top of what my girls earned?”

  “And the damages, yes, ma’am.”

  Now Gertrude actually smiled. “I can keep quiet about this, but my girls aren’t armed guards.”

  “I brought along a friend to watch over him.”

  Pearl nodded. “Baker’s waiting outside.”

  “So you men really are part of the marshal’s posse?” Gertrude asked.

  Clint nodded. “That’s right. Even so, I’d be obliged if nobody let anyone know about our arrangement, and that includes the marshal or his deputies.”

  “No skin off my nose,” the older woman replied with another wave of her hand. “The only thing those lawmen are good for is sniffing around here for a free roll in one of my girls’ beds every couple of weeks. They’re the reason I had to set up just outside of Red Water instead of the prime spot I had on Sales Street. But you should know one thing, Clint. I may be old, but I can still beat the tar out of someone who tries to cheat me out of my money.”

  “I don’t doubt that, ma’am.”

  “Good,” she said as she slipped back into the cordial tone that Laramie recognized when she’d served him and the others tea in the sitting room. “Pearl will show you to the cellar. You need anything else, just let me know.”

  During the whole conversation, Clint had been expecting Laramie to kick, holler, try to throw a punch, or do anything to get away from him. As more women had gathered in the hall to see what was going on, Clint had been afraid the horse thief might try to grab one of them as a bargaining chip to get out of the house.

  But Laramie hadn’t done any of those things. In fact, all he did while being led through the house was hang from the end of Clint’s hand like a dead carp dangling from the end of a fishing line. All Clint had to do to keep the kid moving was nudge him in the back with the barrel of his Colt.

  “Well, now,” Clint said as a way to point out what Laramie already knew, “looks like your partners aren’t coming for you after all.”

  Pearl shot a quick look over her shoulder and then turned to lead them through a well-stocked kitchen. The little bit of pity in her eyes was enough to make Laramie’s head hang low.

  “They’re after the safes.” Laramie grunted.

  Clint chuckled and steered the kid toward the back door. “Sure. I do recall seeing a lot of big banks around here. You’ll have to do better than that.”

  “They’re not in any damn banks. They’re being made by some old man who works around here.”

  “Oh,” Clint replied as the picture came into focus. “Those safes.”

  THIRTY-THREE

  Watching Clint tie Laramie to a solid oak chair, Baker seemed ready to squirm out of his skin. It only made him more nervous to be crouched down in a root cellar that was roughly triple the size of a grave. The walls were lined with shelves, and various chairs and tables were stacked all the way up to the six-foot-high ceiling.

  “Were them others in there?” Baker asked.

  “They were, but they’re gone now,” Clint replied.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Laramie sagged against the ropes holding him to the back of the chair and grumbled another string of obscenities.

  Once the knots were tightened and a rag was stuffed into Laramie’s mouth, Clint turned his back on the kid and left him in the squared hole in the ground. Then Clint pushed Baker out of the cellar, followed him out, and shut the door. They stood just a few paces away from the back porch of Joan’s Emporium. It was a good-sized, well-maintained house just outside of the Red Water limits and far enough away for Clint to get a good look at most of the town. The cellar entrance looked like a squat outhouse set on the upper slope of a little hill not far from the real outhouse.

  Dropping his voice to a whisper, Clint said, “I’m not sure if those men are gone or not.”

  “But you just said—”

  Baker was cut short when Clint pushed him even farther away from the cellar entrance. “That was for the kid’s benefit,” Clint explained. “Now that he thinks he’s been left by his friends, he’ll be more likely to throw some grief their way. That’s where I come in.”

  “You mean we?”

  “No. All you need to do is stay here and make sure the kid doesn’t get away. Just look in on him every now and then, but don’t get too close. He may still have a wild hair or two.”

  Nodding, Baker couldn’t stop looking back and forth between the main house and the little shack built over the narrow steps that led into the root cellar. “So you really knew those men would come here?”

  Cli
nt smirked and said, “It was a hunch. Remember those lines I told you I cast?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I cast them right before riding out of town. I had a hunch those horse thieves were close and guessed they might stop in for some companionship while waiting for whatever it was Flynt had in mind. I rode to the cathouses here in town and spread the word that I would pay for information regarding the men if they stopped by. It cost me a few dollars at every place I went to, but it was worth it.”

  “That’s where you went to when you left the posse for a little bit this morning?”

  Clint nodded. “I started at Tanner Hall, just because that seemed to be Flynt’s second home. Someone there told me about the other cathouses in Red Water and it wasn’t long before I was steered to this place.”

  “So you knew they would be coming back to town even before Tom confirmed it.”

  “I was going to do the same thing at any other nearby towns, but I got lucky with this one. I may have seen those men only for a short while the first time, but that kid looked like the sort that would hightail it to a cathouse before going to a saloon. Besides, cathouses are easier to hide in. Like I said, it was a hunch. Fortunately, we don’t need to take another gamble to figure out what that kid’s two friends have in mind.”

  “Yeah? So where are we going next?”

  Clint placed his hand on Baker’s shoulder and told him, “Just me, Baker.”

  But Baker was already shaking his head. “I’m a member of this posse just like you are. Just because the marshal and his deputies aren’t here . . . that means you need my help more than anything.”

  “That’s right and you’ll be a big help by keeping an eye on the kid in there. Make sure he doesn’t budge from the cellar and that nobody finds out he’s here.”

  “And . . . what about the marshal?” Baker asked. “He’s bound to come back sooner or later. What do I tell him?”

  “I’m not sure just yet, but I think that will sort itself out when everything else gets dragged into the open.”