High Valley Manhunt: Laramie Davies #1 (12 page)

Shortly
after the sun went down, a woman's screams rang out through the
saloon and brought Jeb Coltrain instantly to his feet. They
originated from one of the many rooms at the top of the stairs, with
doors that opened out onto the landing. More blood curdling screams
brought a hushed silence to the bar.

“Aww
hell!” snapped Jeb.

“What's
up?” Shell asked, confused.

“Come
with me,” said the older Coltrain as he hurried to the stairs.

The
saloon owner beat him there and was half way up when Jeb put his foot
on the first step.

The
Rock Springs Sheriff turned to his nephew, “Don't let any one
else up the stairs.”

“Sure,”
answered Shell and drew his gun and turned to face the oncoming
crowd. He cocked his six-gun and said firmly, “Hold it right
there folks. Ain't nothin' to see. Just go on back to your drinkin'
and cards.”

Men
hesitated for a moment, but confrontation with a cocked Colt was
enough to make the bravest think twice. They all turned away except
for a short, blonde whore. Mary had dull blue eyes and a full figure,
which was trussed up into a bright red dress.

“I'm
goin' up there,” she said, jaw set rigid in defiance.

Shell
shook his head, “Nope, Uncle Jeb said nobody else goes up.”

The
look on Mary's face became more determined, “The hell with him,
I said I'm goin' up and I am. If you want to stop me then go ahead
and shoot me.”

She
shouldered past Shell and began to climb the stairs.

Shell
couldn't hide the respect on his face. That was certainly some woman.

When
Jeb Coltrain stopped outside the door that the screams came from, the
saloon owner exclaimed, “He's killing her! Do something!”

From
the other side of the door came the loud smack of hand on flesh. It
was quickly followed by more screams that pleaded, “Stop.
Please, stop.”

Jeb
Coltrain tried the door but it was locked, “Do you have a key?”

“There
is only the one per door,” the saloon owner shook his head and
answered hurriedly.

The
Rock Springs Sheriff lifted his foot and with a mighty kick, the
timber frame splintered and the door flew wide. The Judge stood there
semi-naked with a clenched fist raised, about to strike another blow.

“Judge,
Stop!” he cried.

But
the Judge punched the naked whore again in her already battered face.
There was a sickening crunch as her jaw broke. She fell to the floor
and whacked her head on the night table beside the rumpled bed.
Mercifully for her, she was knocked unconscious and the pain of the
last blow never really registered.

“How
did you like that bitch?” crowed the Judge as he stood over her
prostrate form, “You shouldn't of sassed me girl. I don't take
to it, do you hear me? Damn whore.”

He
raised his foot to kick her but his brother grasped him around the
neck and threw him down on the bed, “That's enough Judge,
you'll kill her. We don't need this right now.”

Jeb
held the Judge down as he fought to rise, “Get the hell off me
Jeb, I'm going to teach that bitch some more manners.”

“You've
taught her enough Judge. If you go teachin' her any more, them folks
downstairs will have you strung up quick smart.”

Zeb
Coltrain stopped his struggle and his brother let him go, “Put
your clothes on and get the hell out of here.”

While
his brother got dressed, Jeb crouched beside the young woman to check
her. She was alive but the Judge had really worked her over. Apart
from the broken jaw, she had a busted nose, her left eye was already
swollen shut, blood came from her split scalp courtesy of the night
stand and as he looked at the bruises on her torso, he guessed she
had broken ribs as well.

He
looked up at the saloon owner, “You'd best get her a doctor.”

The
man ran from the room and was replaced immediately by the whore from
downstairs, “Oh my God, what happened?”

She
looked at the Judge, “What the hell did you do to her you son
of a bitch?”

Once
more the Judge's anger rose to the surface and he lunged at Mary, “By
hell, don't you start sassing me too. I'll give you what I gave her.”

Jeb
Coltrain realised his brother had finally passed his tipping point.
He rose from beside the unconscious woman, grabbed his brother's
jacket by the lapels, and with all his strength pushed him out the
door.

Using
the momentum that he had, he ignored the Judge's cries for him to
stop, and shoved him along the landing to the top of the stairs. Once
there, he stopped and looked his brother in the eye, “You get
the hell down those stairs and get yourself a drink. Then you find a
table out of the way and stay there until I get this sorted. Do you
understand me?”

Zebulon
Coltrain looked into his brother's eyes and knew there was no arguing
with Jeb. He'd seen that look before, usually just before he shot
someone. His shoulders slumped, “Sure Jeb. Okay I'll do it.”

Jeb
Coltrain watched as his brother shuffled down the steps. His gaze
then fell on his nephew at the bottom, “Keep a damn eye on
him.”

The
Rock Springs Sheriff returned to the room and found Mary with the
other whore cradled in her arms.

She
looked at him with hate in her eyes, “Why?” she asked,
tears glistened as they streamed down her cheeks, “Why did he
have to do this to Ellie. She was kind and gentle. She wouldn't hurt
anyone.”

Jeb
didn't have time to answer before the Mountain Pass doctor brushed
past him and knelt beside both women.

Jeb
heard him say softly, “Dear Lord.”

The
doctor looked at her for a few minutes and said, “We must get
her to my office so I can examine her properly.”

“I'll
get you some help,” offered the saloon keeper.

Jeb
followed the Saloon owner out, who then organised men to help the
doctor. He found the table where his brother and nephew were seated
and sat down.

“How's
the whore?” the judge asked with genuine concern, “Is she
going to be alright?”

“It's
a bit damned late to be worryin' about that now ain't it,” Jeb
said caustically, “What the hell were you thinkin'? We're not
in Rock Springs now.”

“Yes
well it's done now isn't it?” the judge bit back at his
brothers attack, “I told you she shouldn't have sassed me.”

Jeb
Coltrain remained silent as he watched Deputy Gunderson come into the
saloon and walk steadily up the stairs, then watched as the still
unconscious Ellie was carried down them and out of the saloon and off
to the doctor's office.

A
short time later, Gunderson came back downstairs with the saloon
owner.

“Whatever
happens Judge, just follow my lead,” the Rock Springs Sheriff
said quietly.

The
Judge gave his brother a questioning look, “What?”

Jeb
watched as Deputy Gunderson hesitated at first, then weaved his way
through the tables and town's people to get to where the Coltrains
were seated.

“What
can we do for you Deputy?” asked Jeb Coltrain.

“I've
come for your brother,” Gunderson said uneasily, “I know
he's a Judge and all but he shouldn't of wailed the tar outta that
whore like he did.”

“Do
you reckon you'll get him out of here, Deputy?” Shell sneered.

“Let
it go Shell,” Jeb cautioned, “your Pa done wrong and a
spell in jail might do him some good.”

Zeb
Coltrain's jaw dropped, “What the hell Jeb?”

“Shut
it Zebulon,” Jeb hissed, “now hand over the Webley.

The
judge reached slowly into his jacket and pulled his pistol out with
two fingers. He handed it over with little fuss.

“Thank
you Mister Coltrain,” Gunderson said, as relief flooded his
face, “a little bit of professional courtesy goes a long way.”

“No
problem Deputy, do you mind if I come along with you?” Jeb
asked innocently.

“Well...”
Gunderson started.

“It's
just to see he doesn't give you any more trouble,” Jeb
explained.

The
deputy still wasn't sure. He had images in his head of the events
that had occurred in the jail when the Coltrains first arrived.

The
owner of The Royal Flush could see the Deputy's apprehension and
stepped forward, “I'll come with you Lyle.”

The
anxiety left Gunderson with those simple words, “Thanks Bob.”

Jeb
Coltrain cursed quietly under his breath.

Gunderson
drew his pistol from its holster and pointed it at his prisoner, “If
you'll step this way Judge.”

“Before
you go Deputy,” said Jeb Coltrain.

“What
is it Mister Coltrain?”

“Zeb,
how much money you got?”

The
Judge pulled out a wad of cash from his inside pocket and gave it to
his brother.

“One
more thing Gunderson, do you have a local Judge or circuit?”

“Local,
why?” Gunderson asked.

“Just
curious,” Jeb answered.

“Are
you comin' or not?” the Deputy asked.

“Nope,”
said the Rock Springs sheriff, “I changed my mind.”

Gunderson
shrugged his shoulders and took Zeb Coltrain off to jail.

“What
are you up to?” Shell asked his Uncle, “We can't just let
them lock Pa up.”

“We're
not, I'm goin' to see the local judge.”

*

“I
don't understand your honour, you want me to let him out?”
Gunderson was confused.

“That's
what I said Lyle. Let the good Judge out.”

“But
he beat Ellie half to death,” Gunderson protested.

“I'm
well aware of the terms of his incarceration,” snapped Judge
Billings, “now let him out.”

Billings
watched Gunderson saunter off upstairs to let Zeb out and then turned
to saloon owner, Bob Wessels. “Now I've ordered they pay
restitution of one hundred dollars to you for the incident. Does that
seem reasonable to you sir?”

Wessels
stammered, “Ahh, well...”

“Good
it's settled,” Judge Billings said hurriedly, “now I
shall take my leave and return home. Good evening.”

“I'll
walk you out Judge,” said Jeb Coltrain.

Both
men walked out onto the board walk and stopped just outside the
lantern light that shone through the sheriff's office windows.

“Are
you satisfied now? I did what you wanted,” the judge pleaded.

“Yes
Judge, you did. Now when you get back home, you tell Shell to do what
I said and your wife will be fine.”

Jeb
watched Judge Billings hurriedly disappear down the darkened street.
There was a noise behind the Rock Springs sheriff and he turned to
see his brother emerge through the door.

“Come
on, let's go.”

“Where
we going?” asked Zeb.

“To
find another saloon that we can drink at.”

“How
on earth did you manage to get me out anyway?” Zeb asked
curiously.

“Convinced
the town Judge to get you out,” Jeb answered.

“How?”

“It
cost me a hundred bucks, but it cost the Judge more,” he
explained.

“Where's
Shell?”

“He's
takin' care of somethin' for me, now come on, I want a drink.”

While
the two brothers found a place to drink, Shell Coltrain put out the
lamps at Judge Billings' residence and locked the door behind
himself.

The
following morning, Laramie, Sally and Lonesome were ten miles from
town, riding slowly along a rut riddled and winding trail, when the
Mountain Pass posse appeared behind them. The galloping hooves that
signalled the arrival of the posse, first sounded like the far off
thunder of a mountain storm, but as it got closer, Laramie could make
out the huffing and snorting of hard ridden mounts.

Whoever
was coming seemed to be in a hurry, so Laramie and the others pulled
off the trail and waited for the riders to pass.

When
they appeared around a blind corner, Sally was the first to recognise
the rider out front who rode a Bay horse and wore a shiny star.

“It's
Pa. Laramie it's him,” she called excitedly and eased her horse
back onto the trail.

The
posse eased down to a stop just short of where Sally sat, her horse
side on across the trail. Her father was about to curse the rider
who'd stopped them but had to bite it off when he recognised his
daughter.

“Sally
girl,” he said surprised, “by golly it is you.”

Hank
Richards jumped down from his horse and was met halfway by his
daughter, he scooped her up in his arms and spun her around, “It's
so good to see you girl. I thought I'd lost you.”

“You
probably would have if it wasn't for Laramie,” Sally conceded.

It was
at this time that Richards became aware of the two other riders with
his daughter. He stared at both of them before he said, “I'll
be damned, it is you.”

Laramie
smiled, “Howdy Hank, it's been a while.”

Hank
Richards released his daughter and moved where Laramie could see him
better. He had changed over the years, as had Laramie. Hank's hair
was grey now and the years had transformed his face from young and
tanned, to a hard leathery look. He was strong and wiry and showed no
sign of a stoop in his five foot eleven frame. He still carried a
Colt .45, but in his saddle boot, instead of a rifle, Laramie noticed
a sawed off shotgun.

Laramie
climbed down from Bo and walked across to his old friend. He stuck
out his hand and Richards gripped it in a firm shake.

“It's
good to see you Laramie,” he greeted, “is what Sally said
true, did you help my girl out? Save her life?”

“I
had some help,” the gunfighter said humbly.

Hank's
eyes settled on Lonesome, “How you doin' you old bandit?”

“I'll
give you old bandit, just wait until I get down off this here
cayuse,” the old mountain man grouched, “I may be old but
I'll still give you what for.”

“Calm
down, you'll give yourself an affliction,” Richards smiled.

“I
take it you two know each other then,” Sally guessed.

“Sure,
we go way back.”

Richards
turned his attention back to Laramie, “How about you fill me in
on the way to town.”

Laramie
nodded and they all climbed back on their horses. The Mountain Pass
Sheriff eased his horse up beside Laramie's, “Well what
happened?”

“Have
you ever been to Rock Springs?” the gunfighter asked.

“Nope,”
answered Richards as he shook his head, “Never have.”

“Well
don't.”

*

“And
that's about all there is to tell,” explained Laramie.

Richards
shook his head in amazement, “That sure is one hell of a story.
And Blackie Harbin's dead you say?”

“Buried
him myself.”

“Can't
say as he'll be missed,” Richards allowed, “but there is
one thing that worries me.”

“The
deputy I shot?” guessed the gunfighter.

The
Mountain Pass Sheriff nodded, “Yeah, I'm goin' to have to look
into it.”

Sally
was shocked, “Pa, you can't be serious!”

“I'm
afraid I am, Sally,” he apologised, “I'll get onto it
when we get back to town, it's only another couple of miles. I hope
you understand Laramie.”

“Are
you goin' to lock me up Hank?” Laramie joked.

“I
don't think I need to do that, do I?” Richards smiled.

“That's
good. I need to get the old feller to see a doctor, have him checked
out where he was shot,” the gunfighter explained.

“Don't
worry, I'll take you there myself, he can check Sally out while he is
lookin' Lonesome over.”

“I
don't need no damn doctor,” the old man complained, “I'm
fine, them Blackfeet took good care of me.”

“He
sounds fine,” said Richards with a grin on his face.

“I'd
still like to find out how fine.”

*

Shell
Coltrain rushed into the Gold Nugget Saloon and over to the table
where his Father and Uncle sat with their shot glasses half full of
whiskey.

“The
Sheriff's back and guess who he's got with him?” he said
excitedly.

“Davis?”
asked Jeb Coltrain.

“Sure
is. You was right, he's got the girl with him.”

“What
are we waiting for?” asked the Judge, new life coursed through
him, “Let's go get the murdering son of a bitch.”

The
three Coltrains rushed out of the Gold Nugget and into the middle of
main street just in time to stop the posse.

Jeb
Coltrain raised his hand to stop them and spoke loud enough so that
townsfolk in the general vicinity could hear clearly what he had to
say, “That's far enough Sheriff, we'll take Davis from here.”

The
posse stopped and Hank Richards studied the three men in front of
him, “And who might you be friend?”

“I'm
Sheriff Jebediah Coltrain from Rock Springs,” he stated
clearly. “The feller on my right is my brother, Judge Zebulon
Coltrain. This feller on my left is my deputy, Shell Coltrain.”

“You're
a little off your patch aren't you Coltrain?” Richards pointed
out.

“You
might say that,” Jeb allowed, “but these are exceptional
circumstances. Your man there killed an officer of the law.”

“He
tells it a different way, Coltrain,” Richards explained, “Says
it was self defence.”

“He's
a damned liar,” snapped the Judge, “it was murder.”

“He
was tryin' to steal my horse Judge,” Laramie spoke for the
first time, “when he didn't like me stoppin' him, he went for
his gun. I had no choice. There were witnesses, they backed my
story.”

“Well
then, there should be no problem at your trial,” Jeb Coltrain
observed, “ain't that so Judge?”

“No
damn problem at all,” he spat.

“That's
not what my daughter says, either,” Richards added, “and
I'd believe her long before anyone else.”

“Your
daughter is lucky I ain't inclined to prefer charges of aidin' and
abettin' a wanted fugitive,” Jeb Coltrain said impatiently.

“You
are a liar Coltrain,” Sally cried, “You left me with that
animal Blackie Harbin.”

“Watch
your mouth Missy,” the Rock Springs Sheriff said icily, “I'd
kill a man for callin' me that. As for that Blackie Harbin feller, he
told me he was a friend of your Pa's. Guess he must have lied.”

“There
is only one liar here Mister Coltrain, and that would be you,”
Sally cried.

“He
killed my brother,” Shell barked and his hand went for his gun.

Compared
to some of the guns that Laramie had faced, Shell Coltrain was
painfully slow. His gun had just cleared leather when the
gunfighter's Remington boomed. The younger Coltrain cried out as the
slug smashed into his gun and made it leap from his hand. Shell
clutched at his arm as pain from the jarring blow radiated up it.

“Damn
you, Davis,” he cursed the gunfighter through gritted teeth.

“Be
thankful you didn't end up like your fool brother,” Laramie
stated flatly.

“Sheriff are you goin' to stand for this?” snapped the
Judge, “I demand you lock him up until we are ready to leave
town. Then he will be transported to Rock Springs and stand trial for
the murder of my son.”

“You
know what Judge, I don't believe I will stand for it,” Richards
conceded, “so this is what I'm goin' to do. I'm goin' to take
Laramie into custody...”

“No,”
Sally gasped, “you can't.”

Hank
Richards turned to his daughter, “Hush now girl, let me
finish.”

He
turned back to the Coltrains, “Like I said, I will take him
into custody and then I will do some investigatin' of my own to see
what's what.”

“You
got no right, Richards,” Jeb Coltrain said aggressively, “the
murder occurred in my town, so it's my case. Any investigatin' to be
done, I'll do it, not you.”

Hank
Richards knew the kind of justice Laramie would get from the
Coltrains. “I've said all I'm goin' to say Coltrain, now get
off my street.”

“Just
remember this Richards,” Jeb Coltrain seethed, “you may
have Davis now, but you have to be able to keep him.”

With
that said, Jeb and the Judge started to walk off the street towards
the Gold Nugget, Shell however bent down to pick up his six-gun.

“Leave
it there kid,” Laramie said sternly, “You won't get any
more fool ideas if you ain't got it.”

Shell
looked up at the gunfighter and saw that he still had his Remington
in his fist, looked at his own gun, thought about it and then decided
to follow the others inside.

“You
can't be serious about lockin' Laramie up, Hank,” Lonesome said
incredulously as he eased the hammer down on his Hawken, “it's
them varmints you need to be throwin' in jail.”

“I
agree but it needs to be investigated,” he turned to Laramie
who had holstered his gun after putting in a fresh load, “I'm
sorry Laramie, I hope you understand.”

“I
understand Hank, you're only doin' your job,” the gunfighter
allowed, “do you trust me enough to let me see to my horse and
get Lonesome to a doc first?”

Richards
nodded, “Go ahead, I'll be waitin' for you at the Jail.”

Suddenly
Lyle Gunderson appeared, “Hey, Sheriff, did I hear some
shootin'?”

Hank
looked knowingly at his deputy, “Have you been sleepin' again
Lyle?”

Gunderson
looked sheepishly at his boss, “No, not really, but I do have
somethin' to tell you.”

“Wait
until we get over to the jail and I'll listen to what you have to
say,” Richards said with a wink at Laramie, “I'll see you
in a while.”

*

“What
did you say your name was Mister?” asked the hostler curiously.

“Laramie
Davis,” he answered.

“That's
what I thought. You know there are some fellers in town lookin' for
you?”

“Yeah
I met them earlier,” Laramie said.

“Was
that the shot I heard?”

“Maybe.”

The
hostler's eyes lit up, “Did you kill one of 'em?”

“Blood
thirsty critter ain't he,” Lonesome commented.

“No
I didn't kill one of them,” said a frustrated Laramie, “Now,
can you take the horses or not?”

“Sure
I can!” the hostler exclaimed, “No need to get narky
about it.”

Once
the horses were settled, the two men found the doctor's office and
Laramie left Lonesome to get checked out then he went on over to the
jail.

There
he found both Hank and his daughter waiting for him, in heated
discussion.

“Surely
that must tell you something Pa, at least what type of people you are
dealing with?” Sally said stubbornly.

Hank
Richards rolled his eyes, “For the last time, it's my job. I'll
look into the other matter while I'm out.”

Laramie
smiled at the pair, “If you want, I can come back.”

The
Mountain Pass Sheriff looked at him in exasperation, “She's
just as stubborn as what her mother was. You were a Marshal, you
explain it to her.”

Laramie
shook his head, “Nope, I try to make a point of stayin' out of
family squabbles.”

Richards'
face took on a more serious expression, “Speakin' of families,
it seems there was some trouble with the Coltrains while I was gone.”

“How's
that?” Laramie asked curiously.

“The
Judge feller beat up on one of Bob Wessels' girls from The Royal
Flush and damned near killed her.”

Laramie
frowned, “Why isn't he in jail for it?”

“That's
the strange part,” Richards added, “he was, Lyle locked
him up.”

“So
what happened?”

“The
brother, Jeb, turned up here with Judge Billings who ordered him
released upon payment of a hundred dollar restitution to Bob.”

“And
that's strange?” asked the gunfighter.

Richards
nodded, “It is if you know Judge Billings. Normally he would
have held a trial and given Coltrain thirty days.”

“Do
you think his brother got to the Judge?” Laramie asked, but
already knew the answer.

The
Mountain Pass Sheriff exhaled loudly, “Seems to be too much of
a coincidence to me. Any how I'll go and see him after. I'm goin' to
talk to him about havin' your trial here.'

“A
trial!” Sally exclaimed, “You can't be serious.”

“Sally,”
her father said sternly, “Go home.”

She
set her jaw firmly and defied her father, “I don't think so.”

“This
is men's business young lady,” her father raised his voice a
little, “now go home or I'll damn well put you in a cell
instead.”

Sally
Richards was shocked, “You wouldn't dare.”

The
Sheriff took a step toward his daughter.

She
raised her hands in surrender, “Alright I'm going.”

Laramie
watched her leave, “You sure do have your hands full there
Hank.”

“Don't
I know it,” he allowed, “Now where was I? Okay, I'm goin'
to see Judge Billings about holdin' the trial here in town. I'll send
word for the witnesses to come here as well as a Marshal.”

“The
Coltrains ain't goin' to like that Hank,” Laramie said, stating
the obvious.

“They
will have their own problems,” Richards went on, “that's
what the Marshal is for. He'll be lookin' into them and Blackie
Harbin.”

There
was concern in Laramie's voice when he said, “Be careful Hank,
they might just slip a noose around your neck as well.”