Return to Blanco (Red Book 4)

by Darrell Maloney

  He should have paid Gomez and Duncan to shoot Dr. Munoz in the back of the head.

  Savage sat at his desk and drank himself into a stupor while pondering his options.

  Was it too late to rectify the Munoz problem?

  What would happen if Munoz was shot by a mysterious bandit in the dead of night?

  Would it alleviate the problem? Or would it make it worse?

  Would he be able to make it happen before the Ranger got to Munoz? And if he did it, would the Ranger become more suspicious of him? Would he work that much harder to scare up enough evidence to indict him?

  Or would he just give up? Forget the case and go find somebody else in another place to hassle?

  Of course, he could go a step farther. He could have Gomez and Duncan shoot the Ranger instead. Or maybe in addition to Munoz.

  Austin was ninety miles away. By the time other Rangers came looking for him, the Ranger’s body could be burned down to ashes. Gone without a trace. There’d simply be nothing left for the Rangers to find.

  His horse could be taken to a spot on the highway several miles away and then left there, abandoned by the side of the road for a nomad to find.

  With any luck the Rangers would happen across the nomad, riding the missing Ranger’s horse, and would pin the disappearance on the nomad.

  But there were some problems with Savage’s new scheme.

  First of all, Gomez and Duncan were incompetent, and painfully so.

  If they weren’t, they wouldn’t let Red slip back into town.

  Could they be trusted to kill a Texas Ranger without screwing it up?

  Probably not. And if they failed and the Ranger turned the tables on them, got the upper hand, and took them prisoner, would they rat him out?

  Probably.

  He downed his eighth or ninth slug from the bottle. He wasn’t keeping count. All he was doing was trying to drink enough to pass out.

  For only in an unconscious state could he rest peacefully, without having to think of his future.

  He suddenly wished that Jesse Luna and Ed Sloan were still there.

  They were each a major pain in the ass, in their own ways.

  But they were good at what they did. They were professionals.

  Gomez and Duncan, by comparison, were rank amateurs.

  His head suddenly began to spin and his forehead went down hard against the desktop. The bottle of Maker’s Mark in his hand fell to the floor and onto its side, its amber elixir pouring onto the floor by his feet.

  A drunken sleep is seldom restful, and this one was no different.

  He was awakened after four hours by a bad dream.

  A dream in which Savage reported to a federal prison to serve out a sentence of life without parole.

  A dream in which Savage was introduced to his new cellmate. A tough and hardened brute of a man named Mongo.

  Just before he opened his eyes in terror, Mongo had placed his face before Savage’s and snarled, “You look out of shape, but you’re actually kind of pretty. You’ll make me a fine bitch.”

  -45-

  Red was napping in her father’s recliner, still trying to transition from being up at night to sleeping in the hours of darkness.

  The church bells woke her up at four p.m., and she muttered under her breath.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  Jacob happened to be walking down the hallway in his socked feet, trying not to wake her.

  But if she was muttering then she must already be awake, he reasoned.

  She opened a sleepy eye and looked in his direction.

  “Why in the world do they have to ring the church bells every hour on the hour?”

  He chuckled.

  “Oh, that. Lilly told me they started doing it about three weeks ago. To make it easier for the townsfolk to know what time it is. Apparently your friend the prepper… what was his name again?”

  “Everybody called him ‘Crazy Eddie.’ I knew him before he was a prepper and adopted his weird lifestyle. He was just ‘Eddie’ to me.”

  “Well, Lilly says he left behind a working watch when he was murdered. Somebody found it at his place and it got donated to the city. The city council hired some people to be the city’s official timekeepers, and to ring the bells every hour.

  “She said it helps, especially to get everybody together for the five o’clock meeting. She said after they ring four bells the townsfolk all start wrapping things up and heading to the city square.”

  “I was too sleepy to count. How many times did the bells ring?’

  “Four.”

  “Ugh. I guess I’d better get up then.”

  “Why? Are you going to the five o’clock gathering?”

  “Yes. I have something I want to discuss.”

  “Mind if I tag along? There doesn’t seem to be much else to do.”

  “Sure. It’s for the whole town. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

  “And tell me again what it’s all about?”

  “It was started by my dad and the judge shortly after the lights went out. The market was running out of food and they got half a dozen volunteers who said they’d go on horseback every morning and visit the abandoned trucks on the highway. And each day they’d bring back as much food and other provisions as they could carry in their saddlebags and the backpacks they wore.

  “Ever since then it’s become a tradition, of sorts. The gatherers go out each morning, and they’re usually back between two and four. They assemble in the town square, and dump all of their haul onto the floor of the courthouse gazebo. Judge Moore presides over its distribution, so it’s more or less equitable. It’s an orderly way of ensuring that everybody gets fed, regardless of their ability to pay.”

  “Sounds kind of communistic to me.”

  “Maybe. But remember, there is no more dollar, and there are no more jobs either. Capitalism doesn’t work so well when there’s no money to pay for the things you need.

  “So if it’s a bit communistic, as you call it, it’s that way out of necessity. At least for the time being. But I think it’s a fair way to do things. At least the elderly and sick, who cannot go and gather for themselves, won’t starve to death while the able-bodied fill their bellies each day.”

  “Is that it? Just a gathering of people to pick up their daily food rations?”

  “No, there’s more to it than that. On the first of every month one of the local ranchers donates a cow or a pig, and we have a big barbeque. It lifts everyone’s spirits and there’s always enough for everyone to get their fill. Enough leftovers for everybody to take some home too. For a lot of the residents, it’s their only chance each month to get fresh meat, and it really raises everyone’s spirits.

  “On the fifth of each month, Mrs. Turner bakes a big birthday cake for everyone celebrating a birthday that month.

  “On Sundays, Reverend Fall and Pastor Walters conduct church services on the courtyard grounds.

  “And every other day it gives Judge Moore, who likes to talk more than anybody you’ve ever met, a chance to give a speech. And everybody else has a chance to stand up and make announcements, or ask for prayers, or whatever they want to talk about.”

  “Is Lilly going to be there?”

  “Ha! You’re sweet on her. I knew you would be.”

  “I’m sweet on her just because I asked if she was going to be there?”

  “No. You’re sweet on her because she’s pretty and nice and will make you a good wife.”

  “Whoa… I just met her yesterday and you’re already pushing marriage on us?”

  “Just you wait and see. I’m right about these things. I’m always right about these things.”

  “Yet you’re unable to answer a simple damn question. Do you expect Lilly to be there or not?”

  “Yes. This is Sunday, and she never misses a church service.”

  She eyed him warily, and noticed he’d blushed just a bit.

  “Well, I’ll be darned.�
�

  “You’ll be darned about what, Red? Quit jabbering, will ya?”

  “You are sweet on her. Admit it.”

  He looked at his feet, a bit embarrassed that he was being asked to make a big confession.

  “Well, yes… I guess. She is a sweet girl, and pretty darned hot too.”

  “Don’t tell her that.”

  “Why?”

  “Her ex used to introduce her as his ‘hot girlfriend.’ She hates the term.”

  He suddenly grew a bit sullen.

  “Her old boyfriend? Is he still around?”

  “Nope. He joined the Army after they broke up. Last I heard he was in Korea. I guess he’ll be there the rest of his life now…”

  She could tell by his expression he was okay with that.

  He started to say something else but was interrupted by a knock on the door.

  -46-

  The days of Blanco being a town where neighbors dropped in unannounced were long gone.

  Seldom did a friend just drop by without saying so ahead of time.

  There were just too many skittish people around. People who lived in fear that someone would come and try to take their meager things away from them.

  That wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing, for caution was an ally in the new world.

  Except that some of the skittish residents were way too cautious.

  And paranoid too. And the two made a sometimes deadly combination, for some residents were so scared by an unannounced visitor they shot first and asked questions later.

  Still, Red wasn’t that way. She was cautious. But she was far from paranoid. And she would never fire a weapon without knowing exactly who she was shooting at. And never without good reason.

  “Cover me,” she said to Jacob as she drew her pistol. She quickly looked around to see where Beth was, then heard dishes clattering in the kitchen.

  “Beth,” she called out loudly, “Stay in the kitchen until we see who this is.”

  She eased the curtain back from the window so she could see the front porch.

  “It’s the man we saw on Main Street,” she told Jacob. “The one on the Morgan, riding towards Savage’s bank as we were riding away from it.”

  “Be careful. Savage might have hired him to do you harm.”

  Red was skeptical. Hit men normally did their dirty work from afar. They were typically cowards who didn’t have the nerve to shoot someone at close range while looking into their eyes.

  Still, caution was in order.

  As she opened the door she kept her gun out of sight but at the ready, just on the inside of the door where the stranger couldn’t see it.

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m looking for a woman named Red Poston. I’m told she’s the prettiest redhead in town. Should I assume that’s you?”

  His effort at a compliment was clumsy. But it worked. She gave him half a smile, and he sensed he’d get no more.

  “Yes. That’s me. How can I help you?”

  “My name is Randy. Randy Maloney. I’m a Texas Ranger. I was sent here by a friend of yours. A man named Luke. A man who was very friendly but who needs to go shopping for clothes.”

  “He wouldn’t wear them if you handed them to him. He enjoys his freedom too much. And he defines freedom as not wearing anything besides his birthday suit.”

  “Good. So you do know him. He seemed to be quite a jolly man. Struck me as the type of man who might play practical jokes. I thought he might have sent me here on a wild goose chase.”

  “Do you have some form of ID, Ranger?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll reach into my pocket and get it, if you promise not to shoot me while I do so.”

  She smiled.

  “What makes you think I have a gun?”

  “You strike me as intelligent. And only a fool wouldn’t have a gun.”

  “Touché.”

  “And besides, I always remember a pretty face. I remember you. You were riding out of town as I was riding in.”

  She smiled warmly. His compliments were getting better.

  He continued, as he slowly took an identification card from his pocket, “And I also remember you were escorted by a young cowboy. Unless I miss my guess, he’s probably got a gun on me also.”

  Red looked at his ID, then his face. They were the same.

  “No offense, Ranger. We just like to be extra careful around here.”

  “Oh, none taken, ma’am. I don’t blame you. Being cautious helps keep us alive these days.”

  She opened the door further and her gun came into the Ranger’s view. She put it back into her holster and replaced the leather strap.

  Jacob, watching the Ranger from the window, took that as his cue and did the same.

  “Come on in, sir. I can pour you a whiskey, or a bottle of water. Neither is cold, but either will quench your thirst.”

  “A bottle of water would hit the spot, warm or not.”

  “Coming right up.”

  The voice was Beth’s. Unbeknownst to all of them, she’d been watching from the kitchen doorway.

  “Please, have a seat, Ranger, and tell us why you’re here.”

  The Ranger sat his big frame into a dainty little parlor chair, far too small for him. He looked like a parent called to a parent-teacher conference and forced to sit in the chair of their grade school student.

  But he seemed comfortable.

  And he wasted no more time.

  “Your friend Luke tells me you’ve lost several loved ones since the blackout.”

  She drew a deep breath. She’d grown weary of late of talking about the deaths of her family. But this man seemed honest and sincere, and a bit embarrassed at having to pry.

  “Yes, sir. My husband and son died several months ago when our house exploded. I was injured, but survived. Right after I got released from the hospital my father died from a heart attack.”

  “A heart attack? Luke gave me the impression it was foul play.”

  “Look,” Red said. “When my house exploded it made me a little bit crazy. I thought someone killed my family and tried to kill me. I looked for someone to blame. Then some very smart people convinced me it was an accident.

  “Then when my dad died I put two and two together and came up with seven. I thought he was murdered. But I’m not a medical doctor. The man who declared him dead ruled it natural causes.

  “It took me awhile, but I finally had to accept it as such.”

  -47-

  The Ranger wasn’t buying it. Red was giving it her best efforts. But she wasn’t good at lying, and he could plainly tell.

  What Red was good at was reading people. And she could tell by the Ranger’s face that he didn’t believe her. Not at all.

  But he didn’t call her on it.

  Instead, he merely wondered why she’d pass up the opportunity to help him put away the men responsible for the deaths of her family.

  He had a suspicion. And it was an ugly one.

  For her part, Red knew she was on thin ice. But she could not, would not, assist this man who would take Savage away from Blanco and out of her grasp.

  Sure, the State of Texas could lock him away for the rest of his natural life and call it justice.

  But to Red, justice wouldn’t be served by placing Savage in a jail cell.

  Justice could only be served by sending him on a fast train to hell.

  “I see,” the Ranger finally said.

  Red couldn’t say for sure, but she thought she saw just a hint of sadness in the man’s eyes.

  And actually, she did.

  He foresaw the day when he might be putting Red in handcuffs and sending her to prison instead of Savage. And that, in anyone’s estimation, would be a miscarriage of justice.

  “Are we finished here, Ranger? I’ve got some work I need to attend to.”

  “Just a couple more questions, ma’am.

  “I understand you just returned to Blanco a couple of days ago. Where did y
ou go, exactly?”

  “Am I being suspected of something, Ranger?”

  The friendliness was leaving her voice, replaced by an air of defiance.

  The big Ranger sighed.

  “Not at this time, ma’am. At this time I’m merely conducting an investigation. Do you feel there’s a reason to suspect you of something?”

  “I’ve got nothing to hide, sir. I went to Lubbock to find a man named Luna. Luna and I had a confrontation. I killed him in self defense. Any more questions?”

  Jacob got a horrified look on his face. He felt she’d pushed her luck too far.

  Beth just gasped.

  “Do you have any witnesses to the homicide?”

  “Yes. She does.”

  The voice belonged to Jacob, who was desperate to help out.

  “I see. And you are?”

  “Jacob. But you can call me Jake.”

  “Okay, Jake. Do you have a last name, Jake?”

  “Well, I did, officer. But you know how it is when you’re crossing the prairie. I had my last name in my back pocket, and then one morning it just wasn’t there anymore. Must have fallen out, I reckon.”

  “Do you have reason to hide your identity, Jake? Any wants or warrants? Did you escape from jail or prison when the power went out?”

  “I don’t rightly remember, officer. You see, I ain’t too bright, and I tend to forget things that ain’t important.”

  “You realize I could take you in for obstructing justice, by concealing your identity?”

  “Seems to me that you’re the one obstructing justice, Ranger. Why don’t you be on your way and let the things in Blanco just work themselves out?”

  The Ranger reached behind him and removed a pair of handcuffs from a holder on the back of his belt.

  Beth spoke for the first time.

  “If you’re taking him in, sir, you’d better have another pair for me too. I’m a witness too, and what Red says is true. She killed Luna in self-defense.”

  “You saw that with your own eyes?”

  “Yes, sir. I absolutely did.”

  “I’m not taking him in because he was a witness, ma’am. I’m taking him in for hindering my investigation. Once he identifies himself and we can verify his identity, we’ll let him go.”