They cuddled and shared light caresses until they fell asleep.
Tuesday morning at dawn, Hawk ate a quick meal before he awakened the sheriff, revealed his identity, and related his story, including where the money was hidden. When asked why he didn’t prevent the crime in advance or foil it while in progress and summon him for help last night, Hawk answered, “A man can’t be arrested and tried for a deed he hasn’t done yet. No court would convict him on mere allegations.”
“If you’d come to me when you learned about his plans, we could have set a trap for him and caught him red-handed,” the sheriff reasoned.
“I couldn’t risk Barber smelling a trap or somebody overhearing us planning one and warning him. If shooting had started at the tracks or on the trail afterward, some of those railroad men or your deputies could have caught a bullet, and Barber might have escaped in the commotion. I also needed him to carry out that robbery so I could unmask everybody involved in it; that’s how I discovered the identity of the guard who helped him. As for why I waited until now, I knew they weren’t going anywhere soon. I figured it would be safer for everybody around him if we captured them early this morning while they’re sleeping; we certainly couldn’t have challenged them in a busy saloon. Barber’s been known to take down three men in one gunfight, and a desperate man is unpredictable and dangerous.”
“You’re right, Marshal Reynolds, so let’s get to it.”
Within thirty minutes, several deputies had been summoned. With stealth, the group of lawmen sneaked to their assigned locations. The deputies found and arrested the two cohorts without any trouble, as both had been dead drunk.
The sheriff and another deputy found Slim Jones in the same condition when they busted in on him and disabled him; but Hawk found Pete’s room next door empty, his bed still neatly made.
The vexed U.S. marshal almost stalked back to Slim’s room and demanded, “Where’s Barber? Talk before I lose my temper.” The bony outlaw with a sharp and thin face, dirty hands and ragged nails, unwashed and mussed hair glared at him with fierce hatred in those pale gray eyes.
“I ain’t tellin’ you nuthin’. You cain’t prove we robbed no train. We was playin’ cards and drinkin’ all night. Ask anybody at the saloon.”
“We know all about your faked alibi, Slim, so it won’t hold water with us or the court. You and your friends are heading for prison pronto.”
“We ain’t goin’ nowheres. You ain’t got nuthin’ against us. I know you’re just bluffin’, and it don’t scare me none. Ain’t no court fool ‘nough to accuse Pete, and ain’t no bars strong ‘nough to hold’im.”
“He must have spent the night with Conchita,” Hawk speculated and saw Slim’s look of surprise and fear, probably assuming Pete was still asleep and vulnerable. “I’ll go after him while you take care of this varmint.”
“Ifn you goes after Pete Barber, you bastard, they’ll be coverin’ you with dirt afore noon. He’s the fastest and best gun around.”
Following Slim’s taunt, Hawk used a slug across his jaw to silence his ensuing shouts to create a commotion to alert his friend to peril. He looked at the sheriff and deputy and said, “Barber’s mine, so I’m going after him.”
To Hawk’s dismay, he found Conchita on a rumpled bed, but alone. From the pattern of her breathing and the way her cheek puffed out from a smile, he knew the dark-haired Mexican woman who was lying on her stomach and facing the wall with her eyes closed was awake. She must have heard the hinges squeak, though he’d tried to open the door quietly, Hawk reasoned. He walked to the side of the bed and nudged her bare shoulder.
“Come back to bed, you fiery hombre. It is too early to rise. Dese prisa, and I will make you squeal and squirm with delicioso deleite.”
So, you’re in a “hurry” to give that. snake “delicious delight,” are you? “Where’s Pete Barber?” he asked, and watched her flip to her back and gape at him, her dark gaze taking in the revolver still in his hand.
“Que demonios! Who are you? What do you want?”
“I’m Hawk Reynolds. Answer the question. Pronto!” When she remained silent, he hinted, “I’m not in a good mood this morning, Chita, so don’t provoke me to anger. Where is he?”
“How should I know? He left earlier. Why do you want him, perro?”
Hawk wasn’t even slightly aroused by the earthy female who sat up, allowing the wrinkled sheet to fall to her lap exposing her naked body. As she fluffed her ebony mane, she made no attempt to cover her ample breasts or the dark furry patch which was in partial view. He was amused and repulsed by her bold and seductive ploy to distract him. In case she made a slip in her language, he pretended not to understand her insult, though he was fluent in Spanish, as well as Cheyenne, and knew a smidge of Apache. Besides, a “dog” wasn’t the worst thing he’d been called during his work. “For that train robbery he pulled last night, with your help.”
“I was here working all evening, lastimoso gato. “
Hawk still didn’t react to her calling him a “pitiful tomcat” but confronted her with her complicity as he said, “You were pretending to serve drinks to an empty room downstairs while Pete and his gang robbed the payroll train. You’re just as guilty, and you’re going to prison for a long time. If I were you, Chita, I’d go for mercy by helping us catch Pete.”
“I do not know what you’re talking about and I can not help you catch him because I do not know where he is.”
Although she tried to look and sound calm and ignorant, Hawk perceived her rising anxiety and took advantage of it. “Then you’re in big trouble, Conchita. We know for a fact you helped set up his fake alibi last night, and you’re close … friends, shall we call it? What happens to a pretty woman behind bars ain’t nice. At the Territorial Prison in Yuma, men and women are incarcerated together. Some of those guards and male convicts are known to get itches in their pants they like to scratch when nobody’s around to stop them. Be smart for once and talk to me. You’re already under arrest, so stop acting dumb before I toss you in jail to look for him. If I have to find him on my own, I won’t be merciful toward you. I’ll throw you in a cell with Slim and those other two cohorts, and let them think you did a lot of blabbing before you arrived. I wonder how ole loyal Slim will react to a traitor within his reach when the sheriff steps out of his office for a few hours.”
A wide-eyed and pale-faced Chita asked, “What are you?”
“A U.S. marshal, so I have the authority to help you all I can,” he said, not revealing that was little to nothing for cooperation. He told himself he shouldn’t feel guilty about misleading her because she was a criminal who could help him capture a worse one. “Well, time’s a wasting. What’s it to be, woman: a cell alone or one with your friends?” He saw Conchita glare at him as she considered his intimidating words.
“All I know is he left about fifteen or twenty minutes ago to head for Fairbank. Vete al infierno, sucio cerdo. “
This “dirty pig” isn’t going “to hell, “ ardiente puta. “Has he gone to meet with that guard from the train?” When she hesitated to incriminate herself further, he frowned and warned, “I can’t ask for mercy for you if you don’t tell the truth, woman. Hurry, my patience is wearing thin.”
“Esta bien, feroz lobo! He went to silence him.”
‘Fierce wolf,” now that’s better, so is “all right.”
The sheriff arrived at that moment to see what was taking Hawk so long and to check if he needed help. Hawk related what he’d learned to the man and said, “As soon as Barber realizes that guard has been exposed and arrested and he discovers the money is gone, he’ll guess the truth and hightail it. I’m going after him as soon as I run tell my wife and grab some supplies and a canteen.”
“Don’t you want us to ride with you? Pete Barber’s as mean and sly as they come.”
“No, thanks, I can travel faster alone, and it’s easier for one man to trail him unseen to an ambush point than for a posse to sneak up.”
; After the sheriff nodded agreement, Hawk glanced at Conchita and said, “Gracias, tonto bruja. “ He watched her gaze enlarge as he thanked her and called her a foolish and reckless witch, letting her know he had grasped her many insults and curses.
“You speak Spanish?”
“Si. Adios, Chita.”
“You can’t go after Pete Barber alone, Hawk,” Maggie pleaded with her husband when he’d related the plan to her. “He’s dangerous and cunning. He’ll suspect a pursuit and try to ambush you. I stayed behind this morning, but I’m going with you this time to back you up.”
As Hawk grabbed his rifle and gear, he urged, “No, Maggie love, please stay here. I can ride faster if it’s just me and Diablo, and Pete already has a headstart on us. We know this terrain and we’re used to challenging its harsh conditions and the desert heat; you and Blaze aren’t. I’ll be careful; I promise. Don’t forget I’m an experienced marshal; I’m used to pursuing outlaws like Pete Barber, but you aren’t. I’ll return for you as soon as I catch up with him and capture him.”
“But, Hawk, you might need my help. If he’s such a vicious killer, surely two armed officers are better than one.”
“I won’t be able to keep on alert if I’m worrying about Barber shooting you out of the saddle. I’ve always worked alone and never been harmed, so I’ll be fine. When I return, we’ll go after Ben together; I promise. Please agree, woman, time’s short and I have to get on his trail fast.”
“All right, Hawk, I’ll do as you say this time. But if you aren’t back or I haven’t heard from you within a week, I’m coming after you two. And if he harms you, I won’t rest until I track him down and punish him.”
Hawk smiled, gave her a rapid kiss, and said, “I love you, Maggie Reynolds, and I’ll be seeing you again soon. Stay on guard just in case Barber doubles back for revenge or to rescue Slim.”
“I’ll stay alert and be careful. Good-bye, my beloved husband.”
From the hotel window, Maggie watched Hawk load his gear, mount his eager horse, and gallop down the street. She observed him until he was out of sight and his dust cloud had settled. She didn’t know why, but her last words to him had caused her heart to lurch in a premonition of trepidation and goosebumps to rise on her flesh, though the day was warm already. She prayed for God to protect her husband and his cherished mustang, and for Pete Barber to be brought to swift justice.
At midmorning Maggie visited with the sheriff in his office, identifying herself as an agent of the Carlton Detective Agency in St. Louis and Hawk Reynolds’s wife. She noticed Slim Jones, Conchita, and the other two hirelings glaring at her as she spoke with the Tombstone lawman about the current episode and the past one in Prescott she was investigating. She was surprised and puzzled as to why Hawk hadn’t mentioned that was what brought them to Tombstone in search of Pete and Slim… She speculated to the sheriff that, during the sunrise commotion and his hasty departure, Hawk probably had lacked the time to explain the matter fully.
She discovered that the guard from the train had been brought to town earlier to be held with the other villains until they were either tried in court there or taken elsewhere for their trials. The guard had related that Pete had learned about the payroll shipment from a drunken miner recently, then approached him about aiding his plans. He said he had cooperated for two reasons: money and fear of Pete Barber, fear of retaliation for exposing his intention or refusing to assist it. Conchita had told the sheriff that Pete approached her to help establish his alibi after finding her in town following his arrival; Chita claimed she helped him for the same reasons the guard had, but neither the sheriff nor Maggie believed her.
She was allowed to stand near the cell to question Slim about the robbery in Prescott on March first, his past involvements with Ben Carver, and the lethal incident near San Antonio on December twenty-ninth. Maggie was annoyed but not astounded by Slim’s belligerent refusal to relate any facts or even—in his great ire—to drop a single clue about any of those matters.
“That trash in the next cell is lyin’ about us; we ain’t done nuthin’ wrong. Who’s gonna believe a cheap whore and a law-breakin’ guard and saddletramps like them two? They’re probably coverin’ up for the gang who done it, or bein’ paid to lie about us.”
Maggie reminded the ghostly-eyed man whose skinny body was taut with the same rage that flamed in his gaze, “My husband and I followed you and the others from the saloon after you climbed out the window and sneaked away, and we were concealed nearby when you robbed the train. The money’s already been recovered from where you hid it and it’ll be returned to the mining company today. We aren’t afraid to testify against you in court, and we will. You’ll either hang for murder or go to prison for a long time for your many crimes. You might get a year or so taken off your sentence if you help us resolve those cases in Prescott and San Antonio.”
“We ain’t been to Prescott or Texas in over a year, and you can’t prove we have. We’re bein’ framed for revenge, or you done accused the wrong men. You might as well buy yourself a black dress, ‘cause your husband ain’t comin’ back. Ain’t no man smart enough or good enough with his guns to capture Pete Barber. I’ll be outta jail afore you knows it, and you’ll be sorry you ever went up against me and Pete.”
“No, Mr. Jones, you’ll be the one who’s sorry you got caught for your crimes and will be suffering greatly very soon. So will Ben Carver after we arrest him and return him to Yuma Prison. Tell me, is Pete riled at Ben because he doubled-back and stole that money hidden outside of Prescott before he was captured and sent to prison?”
Before he could stop himself, Maggie saw a look of astonishment cross Slim’s face, just as she watched him mask his reaction in haste. “You two have realized by now Ben stole the money, not Coot Sayers or Toby Muns, right? I suppose you’ve also heard that Muns is dead, and you already know Pete murdered Sayers because you were there with him. I’m amazed you and Pete didn’t go searching for Ben after he escaped from prison last month. By now, he’s probably retrieved the loot and he’s off somewhere spending it and celebrating, maybe even boasting about duping you two.”
“You ain’t gonna trick me into sayin’ nuthin’ crazy, you bitch.”
Maggie observed Slim’s glare of fierce hatred before he stalked to his bunk, threw himself down on it, and faced the stone wall. “If that’s how you want it, Mr. Jones, so be it, but silence won’t help you any. Nor can Pete Barber because he’ll be joining you in there very soon. Pete might be skilled with his pistols and wits, but he’s no match for my husband’s talents.” After those taunts failed to provoke Slim into making reckess shouts at her, she talked with the sheriff again before leaving the jail.
For the rest of that long and frightful day, Maggie ate two meals alone as she waited in their room for Hawk’s return or good news from him. She fretted over his safety and kept a watchful eye and ear out for any treachery from Pete Barber. None came, and she deduced that Pete would surmise his cohorts were under heavy guard at the jail, which they were, so any attempt to free them would be reckless and lethal.
With a lightweight and short-barreled Colt .45 revolver at the ready at all times, Maggie gazed at the three photographs again Camillus Fly had delivered to her near dusk. Once more, her heart filled with love and joy; her mind soared with plans and with pride; and her body flamed with desire for Hawk, but ached with loneliness and concern for him. She felt it wasn’t vain to think they made a lovely couple; they looked happy and compatible in the three poses. She had purchased all of them immediately upon viewing them, which had delighted Mr. Fly.
She could hardly wait to frame and position them in their new home. She decided to package the three photographs, along with her new outfit and any other unneeded items, and mail them to the ranch where they would be safe until she and Hawk arrived there, hopefully within the next month. Since they would be in a rush to leave for Sante Fe as soon as he returned with Pete, she would send the pictures on their way tomorrow and surp
rise him with them later.
After placing them on the table, she wrote Abby a long letter relating the news about her sudden marriage and recent adventures. I can imagine your expression and reaction to this amazing turn in events, my dear friend. I only wish I could be there to tell you in person, but I can’t.
Maggie knew that the Tombstone Epitaph editor, as was common practice, would send out word about the colorful episode last night to other territorial newspapers, perhaps even include copies of his article about it which would appear in tomorrow’s local paper. Yet, he had promised not to print that those notorious villains had been exposed and captured by U.S. marshal Hawk Reynolds and his detective wife. He had promised to keep that fact secret following requests from Hawk via the sheriff so that others involved in those crimes wouldn’t be alerted to their identities and impending pursuit.
She wondered how Ben and Newl would feel and what the Carver men would think after learning that Pete and Slim no longer posed a threat. She wished there were some way she could reach Ben and capture him before he made that discovery, but time and distance prevented it. She would have to trick Newl into revealing Ben’s location to her; surely she would face his wrath for doing so, but that couldn’t be helped. She was certain now that Ben was guilty not only of the Prescott bank robbery and other crimes but also of complicity in the murder of Hawk’s family members, and must pay for those deeds.
At least Hawk didn’t hate and mistrust her because of her stepbrother. No matter the personal cost to her and her family, she must help him arrest Newl’s son so he could be punished. She hoped and prayed Ben wouldn’t bolt to unknown places before they reached him; he couldn’t be allowed to get away with such crimes, and possibly commit new ones.
At ten o’clock, a weary and anxious Maggie went to bed to spend a restless night, waking up many times to worry about Hawk and their final task with its possible repercussions on her relationship with her mother and Newl before dozing off again, totally unprepared for the two shocks she would receive on Wednesday …
Wild Winds Page 26