Lawman from Nogales (9781101544747) (21 page)

It would have to do, she told herself. She lowered the gun back onto her lap, still grasping the barrel, and nudged the horse forward. She searched the darkness for the faintest sound of man or beast on the rock walls flanking her on either side.

She rode three miles deep into the canyon, hearing nothing but the slow, steady rise and fall of her horse's hooves.

 

From sixty feet above, on the edge of a rocky overhang, three of the Gun Killers lay in wait.

One of them, a gunman named Wade Carrico, sat up from against a rock and listened closely for a moment to make sure his ears weren't misleading him. When he heard the sound again, growing closer, he raised his rifle from across his lap.

“
Pssst
, wake up, Jete. Wake up, Nells,” he whispered to two dozing gunmen lying a few feet from him, their hats tipped down over their eyes.

“What the hell?” said Brolin, coming awake startled.

“I hear a rider down there,” said Carrico.

Jete Longley sat up too, tipping his hat up into place on his forehead.

“I hear it too,” he whispered. “Sounds like only one horse, though.”

“I don't hear nothing,” said Brolin, rubbing his face.

“That's because you're half-asleep,” Longley said critically. “Wake the hell up and pay attention.”

“I'm awake, damn it, Jete,” Brolin growled. “This ain't my first time ever covering our back trail.”

“Then act like it,” Wade Carrico snapped at him, still in a whisper.

The three rose into a crouch, rifles in hand, and slipped away to where they had left their horses hitched to a scrub juniper farther back away from the ledge.

“One horse means something,” Carrico warned as they unhitched their horses.

“Yeah,” Longley said with a chuckle, “it means one of them might have killed the other.”

Carrico continued, saying, “It means we best keep on our toes, make sure we don't kill the woman by mistake. She's still one of us, don't forget.”

“According to Hedden, she might very well be thrown in with the lawman,” said Brolin.

“We're not the ones deciding that,” Carrico reminded them both. “Teto said don't hurt her till we all see where she stands. We're playing this thing his way.”

“Suits me,” said Longley.

“Me too,” said Brolin, grudgingly. The three mounted their horses and moved away toward a thin game trail leading down the steep canyon wall.

When they reached the narrow trail below, they spread out and took cover behind rocks, hearing the horse's hooves draw closer and closer.

“I'm moving in,” Carrico whispered. “Get ready to fire when I call out to you.” He slipped away from the other two and waited behind a tall boulder at a turn in the trail.

“What the hell is this?” said Brolin as he and Longley watched Carrico step out onto the trail in the moonlight as the horse clopped around the turn, its saddle empty.

“Stray horse,” said Longley, already standing, his rifle lowering at his side.

In the middle of the moonlit trail, Carrico saw the empty saddle just as he raised his rifle to his shoulder. He'd started to issue a warning, but he stopped himself.

“Damn it,” he said, feeling a little foolish. He took the horse by its bridle and halted it in the trail. “It looks like somebody got left afoot tonight,” he called over to the other two gunmen.

Brolin and Longley both walked toward him.

“Hold up,” Carrico said. “This could be the lawman's trick.”

“Lucky for all three of you, it's not,” Erin said, stepping into sight from the other side of the boulder where Carrico had stood in hiding. “He would have killed the lot of you.”

“Damn it, Erin,” said Carrico. “We were being careful not to hurt you—here you come sneaking up on us.”

“I heard your horses from farther up the trail,” Erin said, grateful to have run into the three familiar faces. She lowered the big Starr she'd held out at arm's length until she'd recognized the three.

“You were going to start shooting at us?” Carrico asked.

Erin started to tell them the big Starr was empty, but she thought better of it.

“We'll never know, will we?” she said with a smile. She lowered the useless revolver and shoved it down into her trousers. “Let's get on to Wild Roses. I'm worn out from riding these hills.”

“Can't do it,” said Carrico. “Teto and Luis has us waiting here to kill the lawman as soon as he shows his face.”

“We've got a dead-sure spot for an ambush up there,” Brolin said. “We heard your horse from a long ways back.”

“Yes, I see,” said Erin. She gazed up along the ledge sixty feet above them. The gunman was right, she thought. This was the perfect place to kill Sam Burrack. As she thought about it, she saw his face, his smile—warm, easygoing, a little sad at times, she thought. She pictured herself the night the wolves had dragged her out from under the rocks like some varmint, for their dinner. And there was Sam, just in time....

“Well, you can save yourselves the wait. He's not coming,” she said. “At least no time soon.”

“What do you mean?” asked Carrico. “Did you kill him in his sleep?”

“I would have,” she lied, “but he was too smart to let himself get caught off guard. So I did the next best thing. I stole his horse—left him afoot.”

“Afoot in country like this? Stealing his horse might be worse than cutting his throat,” said Brolin with a grin.

“That's what I decided,” said Erin, returning his smile.

Carrico looked all around, then said, “If you stole his horse, where is it?”

“I killed it and ate it,” Erin said flatly.

“The whole horse?” Jete Langley said, his eyes widening.

“Just its lips, Jete,” Erin said with the same flat tone.

“Jesus, just its
lips
?” Jete said.

Carrico and Brolin shook their heads and chuckled under their breath.

“Damn it
to hell!” Jete said, embarrassed.

“I turned it loose along a high trail,” Erin said. “There's wolves prowling everywhere. I thought the horse might draw them away from me. I was right. By now it's dead and picked clean.”

Carrico looked at Brolin, then at Jete, who still stood shaking his lowered head.

“Like as not, so is the lawman,” said Brolin, satisfied with her story.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Carrico said, also satisfied. “Let's ride.”

 

At daylight, Hopper Truit walked in through the front doors of the Perros Malos Cantina and looked back at Teto and the Gun Killers, who stood gathered in a tight circle. At their feet, Hector Pasada lay covered with his own blood, tied to a wooden chair that had fallen over onto its side.

“Fellows, you've got company coming,” Hopper called out.

Teto gave her a nod of acknowledgment. Then he stooped down and wiped the back of his bloody hand across Hector's torn and bloodstained shirt.

“Listen to me, Pancho,” he said, moving in close to Hector's purple, battered face. “You have been a tough little
pinchazo.
But now the
easy
part is over for you. Now I turn you over to Filo, to carve on as he sees fit.” He motioned for Filo to step in closer. The wild-eyed gunman did so, first drawing a long knife from his boot well.

“Not yet, Filo,” Teto said quietly, raising a hand to hold the eager gunman at bay. He reached down, grabbed Hector by his hair and jerked his head around so he could appraise his cut and battered condition.

The thing he did not want was for the tough little Mexican to die just yet, not until he revealed where he'd hidden the money. So far, Hector hadn't admitted to knowing anything about the money, let alone hiding it.

But Teto was certain he was lying. And if he wasn't lying, it didn't matter. Once they finished with Hector and nailed his body to the front of the cantina, whoever had the money or knew anything about it would give it up when it came their turn for questioning.

“Start with his fingers!” Teto said to Filo, loud enough for Hector to hear him. He shook Hector by his hair, but Hector gave no response.

“He'll wake up once I commence cutting,” Filo said, ready to get to work with his knife.

Teto dropped Hector's head in disgust.

“No, let him wake up first,” he said. “Carry him back to the room. Give him some water. Let him have time to think about what awaits him.”

“
Then
start cutting and hacking?” Filo asked hopefully.

“Yes, then start cutting,” he said, “but be careful he does not die on us. For now, this
ardilla
is valuable.”

“You're the
jefe
,” said Filo, the knife hanging in his hand.

Teto stood up and walked to the front door, most of the men following him.

“All right,
Squirrel
,” Filo said, reaching down and pulling the knocked-out Mexican's chair upright. “You heard him, no fingers lopped off until you're awake enough to know I'm doing it.” He roughed the hair atop Hector's limp head. “Not everybody would be that nice, would they?”

A young Gun Killer named Ludlow Blake who, along with Teto, had done most of the beating, looked closely at Hector's cut and swollen face, assessing his brutal handiwork.

“Crazy sumbitch,” he commented to Filo. “I like money as much as the next man, but damn! I'd given it up before I'd take a beating like this, wouldn't you?”

“I don't know, Lud,” said Filo, “but why don't you shut up and help me move him? We can talk about it later.”

Chapter 23

Out in front of the cantina, Teto and a group of Gun Killers stood watching as Erin and the three gunmen rode in a gallop, their dust trailing high in their wake. To the east, the sun had begun its climb upward into the breaking morning sky.

Teto smiled to himself. From around the edge of the cantina, Luis walked up and stood beside his brother.

“So, she comes back to us now,” Luis said, the two of them staring out at the riders entering the town.

“She comes to
me
, my brother,” Teto said, watching Erin bobbing easily atop the dingy gray. “Once a woman has been with me, she cannot help herself. She has no choice but to return for more, eh?” He nudged his brother with his elbow.

Luis backed away in silence.

“Look at you, my darling!” Teto called out as Erin slid the gray to a halt, slipped down from the saddle and ran to him from the hitch rail. They spun in an embrace. Luis looked away; the other gunmen catcalled and whistled as the couple's lips met in a fiery kiss.

Ending the kiss, Teto held her away from him at arm's length.

“Let me look at you, my bold and naughty Irish princess,” he said. “What did you do to get the lawman to set your free? Or do
I dare
ask such a question?”

“No, Teto,” Erin said teasingly, “perhaps you should not.”

“Uh-oh, now I know I must kill him!” Teto said, feigning rage. “Unless you tell me he is already dead?”

“No,” said Erin, “I can't say for certain that he's dead. But it's a good bet that he is by now.”

“Oh . . . ?” Teto studied her eyes with a questioning expression.

“She stole his horse, left him afoot in wolf country, Teto,” Wade Carrico cut in with a dark laugh. He stepped down from his horse, the other two gunmen doing the same beside him.

“Did you hear any shooting?” Teto asked.

“No, but that doesn't mean much,” said Brolin. “These Mexican
lobos
are known to jump a man so fast he can't even get a shot off.”

“Don't tell me what a pack of
lobos
can and cannot do, Brolin,” Teto said, glaring at the gunman. “I was born in wolf country. Were you?”

“Sorry, Teto,” Brolin said meekly.

Teto continued to stare at the gunman with fire in his eyes.

To change the subject, Carrico quickly cut in, saying to Teto, “She damned near threw down on us with the big Starr when we surprised her on the trail.”

After a tense silence, Teto turned his glare from Brolin and said to Erin, “You are a bad girl.” He grinned, reached out and pulled the big Starr from her belt. He checked the gun, saw that it was unloaded but didn't question it.

“
Smart
too?” Erin asked, seeing that he understood why she'd done such a thing.

“Yes, smart too,” Teto added, giving her a knowing look. He handed her the Starr.

She shoved it back down in her waist and gazed at Luis as he stepped forward. “Hello, Luis,” she said. “Were you not going to welcome me back?”