Longarm and Kid Bodie (9781101622001)

by Evans, Tabor

  Ten minutes later, Longarm rounded a corner and saw the livery. He walked directly into the big barn, and there was Bodie sitting on a bale of straw drinking a cup of water, with Homer resting at his feet.

  “Hello, Bodie.”

  The boy showed no reaction at all.

  “How is your dog doing?”

  “He’s on the mend,” Bodie replied.

  “We need to talk.”

  “I expected you would be around sooner or later,” Bodie said. “But before you say anything, I’m not going anywhere with you and neither is Homer.”

  Longarm nodded with understanding. “Sheriff Miller and his deputies are searching high and low for you. If the sheriff gets you, he’ll put you into custody and you won’t be able to keep Homer.”

  “Nobody is separating me from Homer,” Bodie said, face tightening. “And I’m doin’ just fine. All I want is to be left alone.”

  “I wish you could be left alone,” Longarm said, “but I’m afraid that isn’t possible. And I’ve got some things to tell you.”

  “About what?”

  “About John Stock . . . and your mother.”

  At the mention of his mother, Bodie jumped to his feet, eyes hardening. “What do you know about her?”

  “Take it easy,” Longarm said.

  “Any trouble here, Bodie?” a voice called out from the gloom in the back of the barn.

  “No, sir! I’m talking to the law. Ain’t no trouble.”

  The old liveryman emerged from the shadows, took one look at Custis, and then turned around and disappeared out the big back door.

  “What about my mother?” Bodie asked. “Or are you just sayin’ something to trick me into doing what you want?”

  Longarm sat down on a nearby bale of straw and took a moment to compose his words. “John Stock had a letter that was found on his body. It was a letter from your mother, and she has remarried and is living in Virginia City on the Comstock. The letter was asking you to come live with her and her new husband, whose name is Mr. Burlington.”

  The half-filled cup of water spilled from Bodie’s hand, but he didn’t seem to notice. “My ma got married again?”

  “That’s right,” Longarm answered. “The letter says that she found religion, fell in love, and married a pretty good and wealthy man. Both she and her new husband want you to come and live with them in Virginia City.”

  Bodie looked away for a moment, then turned back to Longarm and said, “I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Show me the letter.”

  “Could you read it if I did?”

  “Not much of it . . . but some. I’d recognize her handwriting in a second, though.”

  “The letter is in the hands of my boss. And, Bodie, there’s something else you need to know. The letter is bloodstained.”

  Even in the dim light of the barn’s interior, Longarm saw the boy pale. He whispered, “Go on.”

  “I’m pretty sure that your onetime stepfather, John Stock, murdered or badly injured your mother and stole her jewelry. Most likely, he intended to take you to your grandmother and aunt and tell them some tall tale about how your mother died and he was the one that helped you get to Denver and safety. John Stock would have hung around your grandmother’s place a few days . . . or even weeks, playing on her sympathy, and then he’d have robbed and possibly even murdered her and your aunt just like he might have done your mother.”

  Bodie was silent a long time before he said, “I still don’t believe a word of it.”

  “It’s sad but true.”

  “I need to see the letter.”

  Longarm scowled. “The letter is addressed to you, Bodie. And I’ve no doubt that you’ll recognize the handwriting.”

  “I want to see it now!”

  Longarm decided that he had no choice. “All right. Let’s go to my office, and I’ll talk my boss into showing you the letter and the jewelry.”

  “Why would my ma send me jewelry?”

  “She didn’t,” Longarm explained. “John Stock took it away from her, probably after he killed her. But I won’t know that until I’m in Virginia City.”

  “You’re goin’ there?”

  “I am,” Longarm said. “I’m leaving on the train tomorrow. It runs up to Cheyenne and then all the way to Reno. I can catch a coach from Reno to Virginia City.”

  “I’m goin’ with you.”

  “No.”

  “I’m goin’ with or without you, Marshal. And I’m takin’ my dog.”

  “It’s a long, long way to the Comstock Lode.”

  “I know. I come from Bodie. I know how far it is, but I’ll get there.”

  “Your grandmother, Ida, and aunt Rose would like you to live with them. They have a fine house. You and Homer could stay with them, and when I get back with some answers, we could decide what to do.”

  “Is Sheriff Miller that dumb that he couldn’t even find me there?”

  Longarm almost smiled. “He’s dumb, but you’re right. He’d find you at your grandmother’s house.”

  “Well then? I ain’t never rode a train and neither has Homer.”

  “You can’t take him on the train.”

  “I’ll take him or not go.”

  “You can’t take a dog on the train.”

  “I can if I sleep in a cattle or freight car. Some of them go to Reno, don’t they?”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “Well that’s it then. If you got the letter and it’s from my ma, I’m goin’ to Virginia City one damned way or the other.”

  Longarm had to admire the boy’s determination. “Let’s go to my office and see what my boss says.”

  “I don’t give a damn what your boss says,” Bodie told him. “That letter and that jewelry you said belonged to my ma now belong to me. I could sell the jewelry and have enough money to buy my own damn ticket to Reno, couldn’t I?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Anything else that my ma had for me?”

  “A few gold nuggets.”

  “Well then I’m set for money, and I’m leavin’ with or without you, Marshal.”

  “Were you born this stubborn?” Longarm asked.

  “I was born hard and I stayed hard,” Bodie said without a trace of pride. “I been on the bottom, and I’m sick and tired of it. Don’t like being told what to do.”

  “Then how do you even hold a job like this?” Longarm asked, looking around.

  “I ain’t been here but a couple of days. Mr. Redman, he don’t tell me what to do like I was some slave. He asks me to do things and I do ’em because he asks. That’s all it takes, just the askin’ rather than the tellin’. Understand?”

  “I understand.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll go with you if you ask.”

  “Would you go with me to my office to see that letter your mother wrote, maybe even on the day she was murdered?”

  “Yes, sir, I will. But Homer comes with me.”

  “Fine,” Longarm said. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait a minute.”

  Longarm watched Bodie go out the back of the barn. He was gone only a few minutes, and Longarm figured it was to tell Otis Redman that he was leaving for the Comstock Lode and to thank him for his help.

  Bodie was a good kid. Hard as nails, but a good kid all the same. Longarm wasn’t sure if Billy Vail would go along with letting Bodie go off to Virginia City. But then again, Longarm didn’t think that Billy had any choice in the matter. None at all.

  Chapter 9

  “So,” Billy Vail said when Custis and Bodie walked into his office, “you’ve been found.”

  “I wasn’t lost,” Bodie said. “I had a good stable job and the marshal decided that was ov
er.”

  Billy’s eyes moved to the huge dog. “Custis, you know you can’t bring that beast into the Federal Building.”

  “I know, but I promised Bodie that they could stay together. It was that or else arrest and then drag him here.”

  “I came for the letter my ma wrote me,” Bodie declared. “And I guess there was some jewelry worth a lot of money.”

  “That’s right.”

  Bodie stepped right up to Billy’s desk. “I don’t have much of anything other than Homer and what I’m wearin’. So if you have something of mine, I’d be obliged to have it now.”

  Billy studied the ragged and dirty kid. “All right, but first you’re going to have to answer some questions, and I want you to be honest. If I think you’re lying to me or to Custis, I won’t give you the letter or the jewelry. Understand?”

  Bodie nodded, lips tightly compressed.

  “Both of you have a seat and close the door behind you.”

  When everyone was seated, Billy said, “Bodie, when was the last time you saw your mother?”

  “A couple of years ago.”

  “And at that time was she living with John Stock, the man who was shot to death and claimed to be your stepfather?”

  “Nope. They’d separated.”

  “How long ago?”

  “I was around twelve.”

  “Do you know why your mother left you with Mr. Stock?”

  “She was havin’ a real hard time makin’ a livin’. Said she was goin’ to a town called Eureka and she’d send for me when she had some money saved and a place for us.”

  “But she never did.”

  “No. I lived and worked doin’ just what I’m doin’ now. Muckin’ out stalls, feedin’ and groomin’ horses. Shovelin’ a lot of horse shit. Cleaning spittoons and sweeping out saloons.”

  “Why did you come to Denver?”

  Bodie drew a deep breath. “John said I had a rich granny and aunt. He said they’d give us a place to stay, a little work and some money. He said we’d both wear new clothes and eat well. It sounded fine to me, and I’d lost track of Ma, so I came.”

  “Had you ever seen the two men that attacked you and your stepfather out on the street?”

  Bodie looked down at his worn-out shoes. He reached down and petted his dog. “I might have seen ’em in Bodie,” he finally admitted. “They looked like some men that I’d seen there, but I can’t be sure.”

  “Did they say anything to John Stock before they attacked and killed him?”

  “Nope. But . . .”

  “But what?” Longarm pressed.

  “Well, when John saw those two big men, he turned and I thought he was goin’ to run. But then he whirled back, and that’s when the one killed him and I picked up the derringer and finished the fight.”

  “So,” Longarm mused, “John Stock did know those men.”

  “I kind of thought he did,” Bodie said. “I never saw a man go so pale as when those two rounded a corner and came face-to-face with us. Now, can I have that letter?”

  Billy nodded. “All right. Would you like me to read it out loud for you?”

  “I want to see it first. See if it looks like it was written by my ma.”

  Billy reached into his drawer, drew out the envelope, and then handed it to Bodie. When the kid extracted the letter and saw the bloodstains, his face turned pale. He stared at the letter and looked over the words for a long time and then whispered, “This was writ by my ma.”

  “Bodie,” Longarm said, “it doesn’t mean for sure that your mother is dead.”

  “No,” Bodie grated, “but it sure seems to be that way.”

  “That’s why I have to go to Virginia City,” Longarm announced. He looked to Billy. “Bodie says he is also determined to go to Virginia City.”

  “That would be very unwise.”

  “I know,” Longarm agreed. “But you’re going to have to put him behind bars or he’ll run away and eventually end up on the Comstock Lode. It’d be far better for Billy to accompany me than to go back on his own.”

  “It’s a long way to Virginia City,” Bodie offered. “But one way or another, me and Homer would find a way to get there.”

  “Yeah,” Billy Vail said, “I’m sure that you would . . . eventually. Now, let me read the letter out loud.”

  Billy read the letter while Custis studied the kid’s face for any clues as to his inner emotions. Despite his young age, Bodie remained stone-faced, barely breathing until the letter was finished and handed back to him.

  “Where is Ma’s jewelry?” Bodie managed to ask, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

  Billy reached into his drawer and brought out the ring and necklace along with the small gold nuggets. “Did you ever hear of this Mr. Burlington?”

  “No.”

  “Then your mother must have met him after she left you. Did you even know that she had gone to Virginia City and gotten religion?”

  “Nope. She disappeared like smoke in wind,” Bodie said. “But if she’s been killed, then I’m glad that she made her peace with God before it happened. And that she had some happiness and love right at the end.”

  Tears began to roll down Bodie’s dusty cheeks.

  “I think,” Longarm said, “I’ll take Bodie over to meet his grandmother Ida and aunt Rose. He’ll probably stay with them tonight.”

  “If they’ll put up with my dog.”

  “Yes, if they’ll do that. And in the morning I’ll buy two train tickets to Reno.”

  Billy’s expression was dark. “Bodie, you know that if there is something bad going on in Virginia City, you could be putting yourself into serious danger. It could even get you killed.”

  “Why would anyone want to kill me?”

  “If your mother married a wealthy man, then you might be a primary benefactor.”

  “Speak plain English,” Bodie demanded.

  “What he meant to say,” Longarm added, “is that the reason those two big men suddenly showed up is that they were sent to kill John Stock and very possibly you as well. That way, if you had stood to inherit anything, you’d be permanently eliminated.”

  Bodie considered this for a moment. “I don’t expect anyone left me much money.”

  “Well,” Longarm countered, “you’d never have expected to be holding a diamond ring and necklace and some gold nuggets, now would you?”

  “No sir.”

  “What I’m trying to tell you,” Longarm continued, “is that there could be a lot of money in a will and you could be killed for it.”

  “I’ll sell this jewelry and buy a new gun and repeating rifle,” Bodie told them. “And I’ll learn to shoot fast and straight.”

  “Custis, this is getting worse by the minute. Take Bodie over to see his grandmother and aunt, then come back and I’ll have your ticket and travel money ready. But you’ll have to check in on that little matter in Reno I spoke to you earlier about.”

  “Sure, but what about Bodie’s ticket and expenses?”

  “If Mrs. Ida Clark won’t pay for it, then Bodie sells the jewelry and buys his own ticket. I’m just not sure how you’re going to talk the railroad into letting him take the dog.”

  “I’ll figure out something,” Longarm promised.

  “I’m sure you will.”

  Billy shook Bodie’s hand, saying, “I hope you find out that your mother is alive and doing well.”

  “That’s not too likely.”

  “Probably not, but I want to wish you good luck, Bodie. It’s going to be helpful to have you leave Denver before Sheriff Miller gets his hooks into you. If that happened, we’d have a serious problem.”

  Bodie nodded with understanding.

  * * *

  Longarm walked B
odie and Homer over to Center Street, thinking he should have cleaned and dressed the kid up a little before meeting his grandmother and aunt. But Bodie probably wouldn’t have stood for being cleaned up and made to look respectable; too bad that the boy and the dog stunk so bad. Longarm just hoped that the two women on Center Street would not think the pair disgusting and refuse to take them into their home.

  “What are they like?” Bodie suddenly asked as they approached the yellow house.

  “They’re very kind.”

  “Judging from the house, they must be rich.”

  “Maybe not rich,” Longarm said, “but comfortable.”

  “Rich,” Bodie insisted. “If you live in a big house like that, you gotta be rich. They have anyone else livin’ with ’em?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  Bodie glanced at Homer. “No dogs or cats?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Good. Homer don’t much care for either. It would go real bad if my dog ate any of their pets.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What the hell am I supposed to say to ’em?”

  “Whatever you want to say, only don’t cuss. These are ladies.”

  “Sure. Do I tell ’em about the letter I got from ma with the bloodstains?”

  “You can if you want, but I don’t think it would be a very good idea.”

  “Maybe not. Might be too much for real ladies to take on top of everything.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Let’s just get this over with,” Bodie said quietly as he started toward the fine yellow house.

  Chapter 10

  “Mrs. Clark, this is your grandson,” Longarm said as he and the kid stood on the front porch. “And that’s his dog, Homer.”

  Ida and Rose took involuntary steps backward, clearly shocked. Rose broke an awkward silence by saying, “Bodie, it’s a pleasure to meet you and . . . and your dog.”

  “Yes,” Ida blurted, recovering quickly. “We’ve heard quite a lot about you.”

  “Probably none of it good,” Bodie said, taking off his battered felt hat and wringing the brim in his dirty hands. “I come from a long way off and things ain’t been too easy for me in Denver.”