Dorfmeyer whirled on Ben. “That right?”
Skirting a direct answer, Ben said, “Don’t know about him getting letters, but I took a wire to him from Pinkerton’s.” Lord, he’d have to go to church twice on Sunday for that stretch of truth
Gabe’s eyes widened but he remained silent. Ben saw Otto Holsapple peek around the dry goods aisle, and he had his foreman with him. The bell dinged again, and Ben saw Rob come in and stand quietly near the door.
Dorfmeyer turned to Gabe. “You know about this?”
After a second’s hesitation, Gabe pulled at his ear lobe and said, “I was there when Ben brought the wire, and I saw Nate open a couple of letters from Pinkerton’s while he was helping out at the law office.”
Looking from Gabe to Ben, Dorfmeyer demanded, “Where’s Hargrove and Barton and the other man now?”
Ben pulled at his collar. Durned if he knew what to say, but figured he might as well work a little truth into this conversation. “Hargrove knocked Barton out last night and slipped away. Barton, Masterson, and two of my deputies have gone after him.”
“That where Drake and Storm were headed with Barton this morning?” Holsapple asked.
“Yes,” Ben admitted. “Deputized them both and they went after Hargrove with Barton. His friend was already on Hargrove’s trail.”
“What about our money?” Holsapple’s foreman asked.
“Yeah, what about the money all the townspeople put up?” Holsapple wanted to know. “If Hargrove’s a crook, then that means there’s not a railroad coming through. How’re we going to get our money back?”
Rob Kincaid stepped forward and held up a hand to silence the men. “They know where Hargrove’s headed. They’ll be back with all your money. All we have to do is wait here.”
Dorfmeyer turned on his heel and stomped out of the store. Marcus worked his cigar spiel on Holsapple and the other man while Gabe talked with Rob.
Ben felt a mighty sigh heave out of his chest. He sure hoped Rob spoke the truth. There’d be hell to pay otherwise.
***
Nate rubbed his neck muscles in fatigue and stared out the window. They’d had to change trains in Austin, and had traveled at what seemed a snail’s pace yesterday and all last night. At last this phase of the hellish trip neared an end. Storm hadn’t said three words to him since they boarded the train. Never the talkative sort, Drake had not said much, either.
Nate recalled the trip from Tennessee with Sarah and the children. They’d traveled in luxury instead of the day coach in which he now rode. He closed his eyes and conjured Sarah’s beautiful face in his mind, her perfect ivory skin, the smile of her beautiful rosebud mouth. He could look at her forever, longed to hold her in his arms at least that long.
His eyes opened. She hadn’t smiled the last time he’d seen her. Tears she tried to hide pooled in her lovely lavender-blue eyes when she ordered him from her room. Though he’d told the children goodbye, Sarah refused to see him the day he left Kincaid Springs. He stared out the window and wondered how this would all work out. Would he ever hold her again?
He saw buildings indicating that a station was near. At last, the conductor called “Fort Worth,” and the train slowed to a stop. They left the car and the depot and walked two blocks to the Windsor Hotel. Storm pulled up and stared at the shabby place.
“He’s here?” Storm asked. “Expected him to choose a fancy place with all that money.”
Nate said, “Knows the fellow who runs this. Feels safer here.” Nate saw the worn carpet as they entered the lobby. “Doesn’t look like much, does it?”
Relief flowed through him when he spotted Monk sitting in the lobby reading a newspaper. Monk looked surprised when he saw Nate’s traveling companions, but stood and walked across the lobby to meet them.
“He still here?” Nate asked looking around the reception area.
Monk nodded. “Has him a girl in his room.”
“Where’s the money?” Storm demanded.
“With him. Won’t let it out of his sight.” Monk looked at Storm and Drake, then back to Nate. Staring at the bruise on Nate’s jaw, Monk asked, “Your escorts helpin’ out?”
Nate shrugged. He wasn’t sure how helpful Drake and Storm planned to be after he recovered the funds. “Sheriff deputized both of them in case it makes any difference with Hargrove or the local law.”
Drake said, “Our badges have no jurisdiction here. Ben figured if there’s any trouble, the association with the law would help clear us.”
Monk’s eyebrows raised. “That include Nate and me?”
“Reckon so.” Drake nodded. “Leastwise, that’s our plan.”
Nate said, “Let’s leave our bags and get on with it while Hargrove has his mind on other things.”
After the three newcomers left their bags at the front desk, Drake asked, “You have a plan?”
“Yeah. Grab the money and hightail it out of here.” Nate asked Monk, “You know how many exits this place has?”
Monk nodded. “Two, front door and through the kitchen to an alley for deliveries.”
Nate nodded to Drake. “Monk and I will confront Hargrove and you and Storm cover the exits.”
“Wait, I’m not leaving him alone with the money,” Storm said and sent Nate another glare.
“With us at the only two exits that money’s not going anywhere unless we let it,” Drake told Storm.
Storm glared at Nate, apparently the only look he cared to share. “Well, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“That’s just the way I want it,” Nate said. “You won’t hesitate to stop Hargrove if it looks like that money’s headed someplace other than where it belongs.”
Monk raised a hand to stop the bickering and said, “I’ll take the back.”
“Hope Hargrove’s had his money’s worth from his doxie.” Nate looked at Storm. “Let’s get this over with.”
Monk headed for the kitchen and Drake took a seat in the lobby with a view of the stairs. Nate and Storm headed up the steps and paused at Room 312 to draw their guns. Nate listened, heard muffled sounds from inside, then kicked in the door.
The woman riding Hargrove screamed and tumbled off, then leaped to her feet. She wore a fancy red corset, black garters, and black stockings. And nothing else. Her dress and petticoats hung over the back of a chair with Hargrove’s coat. Brilliant red curls stuck out in disarray, and their glaring color didn’t match the dark patch of hair clearly visible above her thighs.
Hargrove rolled off the rumpled bed and grabbed his trousers from the bedpost. “What’s this, a double cross?” he asked while he shoved his legs into his pants and covered his now drooping pecker. “Why’d you bring the injun with you?”
Nate kept the gun pointed at him. “We came to renegotiate our terms.” He fished a few coins from his pocket and tossed them onto the bed. “Ma’am, take these and get your clothes on.”
The woman snatched up the coins and grabbed her petticoats and dress. In a second she had them on, fastened, and the coins stuffed into her bodice. Her frightened gaze darted from Hargrove to the men with guns.
In spite of his shorter stature, Hargrove’s stocky build hid powerful muscles. “So, you planned to cheat me all along?” Hargrove asked, pulling on his shirt and adjusting suspenders over it.
“No, I have some jewelry worth as much as your share would have been.” From the corner of his eye, Nate caught the surprise in Storm’s eyes before he continued, “You take the gems and get out and I’ll take the money back to Kincaid Springs. Fork it over now.”
“Like hell I will.” Hargrove looked like a bulldog ready to fight. “You won’t fob me off with some glass. That money is mine.” He jerked the woman in front of him and pulled a knife from his pillow in one swift movement.
The knife tip touched the woman’s throat and a drop of blood showed. “Both of you drop your guns and kick them over here or Amie dies.”
The bastard would do it, Nate knew. He and Storm look
ed at one another, then dropped their guns and kicked them toward Hargrove. All the while, the woman called Amie made pitiful gurgling sounds and tears streamed down her face.
Hargrove looked at Storm. “Injun, you get the two valises from under the bed and set them over here by me.”
Storm bent to retrieve the satchels from their hiding place. Nate waited for the instant Hargrove focused his eyes only on Storm. As Storm raised up, Nate grabbed Hargrove’s arm and pulled it away from Amie’s throat. Nate’s grip forced Hargrove to drop the knife, but the brawny oaf shoved Amie at Nate. He stumbled and lost his purchase.
Storm reached for his gun but Hargrove kicked him in the chin and sent him reeling backward. Nate pushed Amie behind him and reached for the gun lying just beyond his fingertips. Hargrove intercepted him. They grappled and tripped over the ladder-back chair.
Amie wedged herself in the room’s corner and slid down the wall behind her. She cowered there with her head pressed to her knees and her hands over her head, weeping copiously. Apparently, she thought if she folded herself into a small enough ball, she’d be overlooked and safe.
Storm saw Nate’s predicament and tried to get around the struggling men to one of the guns on the floor. Hargrove managed to twist so that he kicked the guns. They skidded across the wooden floor toward Amie. Hargrove’s coat that had hung across the fallen chair lay beside them, and he pulled a gun from the jacket pocket and pointed it at Nate, who released Hargrove and rolled away.
“You cheating bastards have had it now,” Hargrove said and waved the gun. “Both of you get over there by the windows.”
The men’s labored breaths and Amie’s soft whimpers suddenly filled the quiet room. She had made no attempt to slip out the door or grab one of the guns that had come to rest near the frills and folds of her dress.
Nate rose and fought the panic engulfing him. He knew if he and Storm moved as Hargrove demanded, the man would still need to kill them to have time and a clear path to gather the bags and exit the door. A guy as smart as Storm knew it, too.
“Listen, you two-bit lying cheat, Nate offered to let you leave alive with the jewelry,” Storm snarled. “You try anything else, you won’t be breathing when you leave this hotel.”
“Oh, yeah? I’ll show you! This is what I think of injuns, especially smart-assed rich ones.” Hargrove pointed the gun at Storm’s chest and cocked it.
“No!” Nate shouted and stepped in front of Storm.
Chapter Twenty
The bullet drove into Nate’s chest. At such short range the force threw him backward against Storm. They both fell to the floor. Hargrove reached for the cases, but pulled a gun from his boot. As Storm tried to rise he slipped on the folds of Amie’s dress. He fired at Hargrove, but Storm’s shot went wild as he fell back to the floor. Hargrove fired a wild shot as he yelled a curse and sprinted from the room in his stocking feet.
Nate struggled to his feet. Storm groaned and held his ankle. Nate called, “Get the bags and go down the back to meet Monk. I’ll go after Hargrove.”
Nate caught the gun Storm tossed him and followed Hargrove to the stairs. He stumbled down the steps. Breaths came in short, shallow gasps. His chest felt as if a train had hit him head on. If he had to climb up instead of descend, he didn’t think he could make it and keep up with his quarry.
At the second floor landing, Hargrove turned to look over his shoulder. He spotted Nate, but Nate didn’t stop. He couldn’t fire because of people in the hall and on the stairs. Oblivious to the crowd, Hargrove fired. The shot whizzed past to thunk against a door. Frightened people screamed and scattered.
Hargrove fired again and the bullet struck the wall beside Nate. Splinters stung his face. Hargrove turned and bolted down the next staircase. Nate straggled behind, gasping for breath.
Nate saw Drake poised in position to intercept Hargrove. Before Drake could make a move, the two men from the train who had looked for Hargrove turned from the reception desk and walked to the bottom step. Hargrove stopped and raised his gun to fire. In unison, the two newcomers shot Hargrove before he got off his own round.
Hargrove fell forward and rolled down the remaining few steps. He came to rest in the lobby amid screams from a woman near the door. One man stepped forward and toed the body to test for life. Apparently satisfied, he backed away. Guns still drawn, the two men backed toward the entrance.
The second man called, “Nobody move. This is a family matter. Now it’s settled, don’t make us shoot anyone else.”
They disappeared out the door and Nate heard horse’s hooves pounding away. The whole incident lasted only seconds.
Drake rushed to Hargrove, and turned him over.
“You there,” the hotel clerk called to a child peeking through the door, “get the Sheriff.”
“Should I go for the Doc?” a bystander asked.
Drake shook his head. “Too late for that. He’s dead. Anyone know the two men who shot him?”
No one spoke up. Nate descended the stairs and looked down at the body. “It was the men from the train. Shot him and ran.”
Drake nodded. “Had horses waiting out front. I couldn’t get a shot at them without risking bystanders.”
“Guess you’ll have to talk to the Sheriff,” Nate said.
“Maybe.” Drake said. “Where’s Storm?” he muttered low.
Nate nodded at the dining room. “In back with Monk.” He brushed wood needles from his cheek. His face still stung but he didn’t think any splinters were embedded in his skin.
Drake pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to Nate. “You might want to cover up the hole in your jacket, then see why you’re not dead from the shot that made it.”
Nate tucked the linen into his pocket and draped it over the hole. It hurt like the devil, but he didn’t feel blood running down his chest. Before he could check the severity of the wound, the sheriff entered the hotel. People stepped aside to allow the lawman access.
“What happened here?” he asked.
Several people started talking at once, so the sheriff held up his hand. “One at a time. You,” he nodded at the desk clerk, “tell me what happened.”
The clerk pointed at Hargrove’s lifeless form. “This man, Mr. Hargrove, he was coming down the stairs and these two fellas was waiting here by the desk. They’d just asked his room number. Soon as they saw Mr. Hargrove, they pulled their guns and shot him. Didn’t say nothing, just shot him.”
“That it?” asked the sheriff.
The clerk nodded. “Well, after they killed him they said it was family business and we shouldn’t make them shoot no one else. Then they ran out the door and rode off.”
The sheriff stood and looked around at the crowd gathered. “Anyone else have anything to add?”
Nate noticed the clerk omitted mention of the shots Hargrove fired earlier, yet he had to have heard them. Others in the lobby must have also. No one else mentioned it either.
People backed up and shook their heads. Probably things like this happened all too often in this seedy establishment.
Drake and Nate stood still. Nate’s chest hurt so badly he could hardly breathe or stand. He composed his face and tried to look like an innocent bystander, mildly curious but uninvolved.
The sheriff asked for a blanket and covered the body. Drake and Nate moved to a front corner of the lobby, then slipped out the door and made their way around to the back of the hotel. Monk and Storm waited at the edge of the alley.
“You saved my life, stepping in front of me like that,” Storm said. “He would have killed me for sure at that range. How bad did he get you?”
“Don’t know.” Nate could hardly breathe. His ribs felt gripped in a vise. “Chest hurts like a son-of-a-bitch. You have the money?” Now they were safe, the starch had left him.
“Here,” Monk said and showed the two valises.
Nate put his hand inside his coat, but felt no wetness. When he looked, he found no red stain, no hole in his shirt. Patt
ing gently where the bullet entered, he grinned.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” From his inside jacket pocket, he extracted the box Sarah had thrown at him.
The misshapen top of the case looked like a flower where it bulged up from the bullet’s impact. Nate tried to open it, but couldn’t. Storm took out a knife and pried up the lid.
Sapphires and diamonds twinkled up at them. The bullet missed the necklace and lay embedded in the open case between the earrings.
Storm turned the case over. A point protruded. “Bullet almost went through the case.
“I’ll be damned,” Drake echoed. “That saved your life.”
“Sarah saved me, made me take it back,” Nate gasped. “So I planned to use it to pay off Hargrove.” He opened a few shirt buttons and checked his chest. A massive bruise already showed, huge and swollen with a center the size of the case.
Monk looked and shook his head. “Probably cracked your ribs. Lucky if they didn’t puncture your lung.”
Storm nodded to the jewels in his hand. “Those real?”
Nate nodded. “Sarah called them flashy and gaudy, and she’s right. Worth a lot, though.”
Monk said, “Cal won them off this wealthy financier. Said they were worth thousands and thousands.”
“Where’s the woman, that Amie?” Nate asked. All they needed was for her to start talking to the sheriff.
“Gave her twenty dollars and told her to forget all she saw and heard,” Storm said. “She allowed as how she couldn’t forget fast enough to suit her and took off down the alley.”
“You look ready to pass out, Nate.” Monk turned to Drake. “Reckon we could go somewhere and sit a spell while we talk?”
“Reckon so. Masterson, you have a room here?” Drake asked.
“Room 204, head of the stairs,” Monk said. “But the name is Magonagle. Michael Magonagle. Folks call me Monk.”
“I believe Nate mentioned as much.” Drake turned to Nate and asked, “Can you make it up the steps to Monk’s room?”
“Think so, if I can go slow,” Nate said. “Wouldn’t mind lying down a bit.”
Most Unsuitable Husband Page 30