Cold-Blooded, page 7
Now the pain in Jess’s side was a living thing. His wound had opened and he felt a warm gush of blood that seeped under the waistband of his pants. He rolled away from the bearded man, but too slowly. The brute got to his feet, pinpoints of hatred in his black eyes, and he raised the club intent on delivering a skull-crushing blow to Jess’s head.
Jess gritted his teeth against the pain and lifted an arm as the girl had done to ward off the club.
Blam!
The shot came from Jess’s right. The bullet shattered splinters from the club and drove it from the big man’s hand. “Next one goes through your head, pardner,” Ford Talon said, smiling, as though having casual words with kin.
“How is the girl, Ford?” Jess said. His eyes raked the bearded man. “I hope I hear good news.”
“She’s got nothing to do with you,” the man said. “She’s mine, bought and paid for, and I got a bill of sale to prove it.”
“What’s your name, mister?” Jess said. Ford Talon was talking with the girl.
“Mort Cooper, like it was any of your business.”
“The War between the States is over, Mort,” Jess said. “You can’t buy and sell people any longer.”
“Not in Old Mexico it ain’t. That’s where I bought her. Cost me eighty dollars and two jugs of whiskey.”
Talon stepped beside Jess. “The girl’s name is Joselita Juarez. She was born in Chihuahua and she thinks she’s fourteen but doesn’t know for sure.”
“Did he hurt her?” Jess said.
“Yeah, for a long time looks like. She’s got bruises all over her and bite scars on her shoulders. There’s other stuff. Do you want me to go on?”
“No,” Jess said. “I don’t reckon I want to hear the other stuff.” He glared at Cooper. “I’d like to kill you real bad, Mort.”
“For what? Beatin’ up on a Mexican slut? I reckon you’re as stupid as you look. Now get the hell off my property.”
By nature, Jess Casey was not an ill-tempered man, but by times he could be hell on wheels. One of those times was now. He stepped to Cooper, shoved the muzzle of his gun into the man’s mouth and thumbed back the hammer. A trickle of blood appeared from Cooper’s split lower lip.
“Tell me again that I’m stupid,” Jess said. His usually florid face was black with anger. “Am I as stupid as I look? If you can’t speak nod your head and then I’ll blow it clean off your shoulders.”
“Jess, let it go,” Talon said. “Don’t mess up your gun with that sorry piece of trash. Do you know what blood and brains do to the finish of a twelve-dollar Colt?”
Jess let the anger drain out of him. Cold-blooded murder wasn’t his style but he’d come almighty close. “Ford, cover him,” he said. “I’ll talk to the girl.”
“And take her word against the word of a white man?” Cooper said. “I own her and I can do whatever I want to her.”
Jess ignored the man and took a knee beside the girl. She was very thin with huge midnight eyes and her black hair had been hacked short with a knife. The dress she wore, if sacking could be called a dress, was holed in several places but it looked as though she’d made an attempt to keep it clean. Her face was dirty and so were her feet and hands.
“You speak English, Joselita?” Jess said. The girl nodded and he said, “Are you hungry?” The girl nodded, but then, her eyes on the glaring Cooper, shook her head.
“I feed her,” Cooper said. “When she does her chores and deserves to eat.”
Jess rose and got the bulging flour sack from his saddle horn. He kneeled beside Joselita again. Susan Williamson had wrapped up sandwiches made from the meat from last night’s stew and a couple of wedges of apple pie.
The girl fell on the food as though starving and quickly demolished a couple of sandwiches and a piece of pie. After she’d eaten, Jess rose to his feet and said, “Ford, we’ll take Joselita with us.”
“The hell you will,” Cooper said. “I’m a trader and the girl is a big part of what I have to sell. Ain’t nobody gonna stop by just for a wolf pelt.”
“Times are hard all over,” Jess said. Joselita stepped beside him.
“You ain’t the law here,” Cooper said. He stood with his legs spread, big-bellied and belligerent. “She stays or I’ll bring the Rangers down on you.”
Joselita moved. It was the last thing Jess, or anybody else, expected.
The girl yanked his Colt from the holster, raised it in both hands and backed away. The gun was pointed at Jess.
Cooper’s laughter roared, then, “Kill him! Kill them both!”
But Joselita again did the unexpected. She swung the Colt on Cooper, lowered the front sight . . . and fired.
The man screamed like a gut-shot bobcat. He looked down at the blood spreading over his crotch and quickly shoved his pants down over his thighs. What he saw horrified Cooper, and Jess and Talon exchanged stunned glances.
“She shot it off!” Cooper shrieked. “Oh my God, it’s gone.”
Appalled, Jess said, “Seems like.”
“Damn you!” the girl yelled. “You won’t come at me with that anymore.”
Cooper fell on his butt to the ground and stared at the bloody ruin of his male parts. He shrieked again and again and Talon said, “If it’s any consolation, Mort, I don’t think it was a real big loss.”
Jess stepped to Joselita and grabbed the gun from her hand. “Give me that!” he said, “You might take a notion to do damage to other folks.”
Talon had to raise his voice above Cooper’s anguished wails. “What will we do with him? He can’t ride a horse. He can’t ride anything.”
Jess said to the girl, “Does he have a gun in the dugout?”
She nodded. “He keeps a rifle in there.”
“Go bring it,” Jess said.
The girl returned carrying a beautiful Henry that was in much better shape than Jess’s own. He racked it empty then stepped out twenty yards and laid the cartridges and the rifle on the grass. When he returned to Cooper he said, “I don’t want you shooting at us as we ride away, Mort. It will take you a while to reach your rifle. What you decide to do with it is up to you.”
Cooper screeched, “You can’t leave me out here without a—”
“Gun?” Jess said. “It’s right over there.”
“Bad luck, old fellow,” Talon said. “I’m sure the whores will miss you.”
Jess and Talon swung into the saddle and Jess beckoned to the girl. “Get up behind me and behave yourself,” he said.
But Joselita ignored him, ran to where the moaning Cooper was holding his shattered crotch and said, “All you can do now is blow your brains out, you filthy, disgusting animal.” Then she spat on him.
When the girl climbed behind Jess, he said, “Not one to hold a grudge, little lady, are you?”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“What are you planning to do with her?” Ford Talon said.
Jess Casey said, “Hell, I don’t know.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Sam Waters said.
“What does an old coot like you know about young girls?” Jess said.
“Because, sonny, I’ve been around women and I’ve studied their ways,” Sam said. “There’s three men in this here sheriff’s office and she’s scared of all of us. Ain’t that right, li’l darlin’?”
“I can take care of myself,” Joselita Juarez said.
“Well, you ain’t been doin’ a real good job o’ that so far,” Sam said. “And look at you. Grubby as a pup in a mudhole. You need a good scrubbing with soap and water and some decent duds.”
“You really do have a way with the ladies, Sam, huh?” Talon said.
“I know what’s best for them, if that’s what you’re saying.”
“Yup,” Talon said, his face straight. “That’s what I’m saying.”
The office door flung open and Kurt Koenig barged inside, big as a barn and on the prod. “Sheriff, where the hell were you?” he said.
“On law business, Kurt,” Jess said.
“What kind of business?” Koenig said. He was a suspicious man and not inclined to patience.
Jess told him about his shooting scrape at the Williamson cabin and the deaths of Lonny Leon and his three cohorts.
After he’d finished speaking, Koenig pointed at Joselita. “What the hell is that?” he said.
“That’s another story, Kurt,” Jess said.
Koenig’s handsome face settled into exaggerated repose. “Oh, do tell me about it, Sheriff Casey,” he said. “I’m simply dying to hear.” His polite words notwithstanding, the big man’s anger was on the simmer.
Jess said, “Well, see, this is how it happened . . .”
He recounted what had happened at the dugout, his rescue of Joselita and the wounding of Mort Cooper by the girl.
Koenig shook his head. “Jess, what the hell are you? Some kind of knight in shining armor riding around Texas saving maidens in distress?” He looked at Joselita and made a face, not liking what he saw. “And what are you going to do with that?”
Sam Waters said, “She’ll scrub up real nice, Mr. Koenig.”
“Impossible, like trying to sweep sunshine off the porch,” Koenig said. He again directed his ire at Jess. “Your job is to uphold the law in Hell’s Half Acre. What happens beyond its boundaries is a job for the Texas Rangers or a United States marshal. What happened to the Williamsons and this girl was none of your concern.”
“You sound out of sorts, Kurt,” Jess said, holding back a smile.
“Damn right I’m out of sorts.” Then, with heavy emphasis, “After you deserted your post, Luke Short and Banjo Tom Van Meter got into it. You know that there’s been bad blood between them? Well, not any longer. Last night Van Meter walked into the White Elephant, guns blazing, vowing to punch Luke’s ticket. Luke was bartending that night and grabbed the shotgun behind the bar and cut loose. Van Meter took both barrels in the belly and was carried out, cursing Luke and the mother that bore him. Banjo Tom died three hours later in mortal agony, or so I was told.”
“You could handle that,” Jess said. “Luke is always real sorrowful after a killing.”
“I did handle it. But that wasn’t the worst of what happened last night in your absence,” Koenig said. “There was blackhearted deviltry to come.” He removed his wallet, thumbed out some bills and said to Sam Waters, “Here, take this. For God’s sake get that . . . person . . . to the bathhouse and then buy her some clothes at the New York Hat Shop. Tell Adelaide Collins that Kurt Koenig sent you. She’ll know what to do.” He shook his head. “Damned sheriff’s office is turning into an orphanage.”
Waters touched the money to his forehead. “Thankee, Mr. Koenig. I’ll do what you say straightaway.”
As Joselita stepped past Koenig, she said, “Thank you, mister. I didn’t always look like this.”
The big man waved a dismissive hand then said, “Jess, the devil’s work is afoot. Have you met Herm Porter, one of the Panther City Boys who works for me?”
“I haven’t had that pleasure,” Jess said.
“Well, you’ll never have it now. Last night around midnight his body was thrown through the front window of the Silver Garter. Herm had been all shot to pieces and this”—Koenig reached inside his coat—“was pinned to his forehead. Yeah, you heard right, his damned forehead.”
The piece of bloody paper he passed to Jess read:
KOENIG GET OUT OF FORT WORTH OR YOU’LL BE NEXT
“It isn’t signed,” Jess said.
“Of course it isn’t signed,” Koenig said. “If I had a name I would’ve killed him by now instead of sitting here cussin’ and discussin’ with you. I swear you get a long Yankee face on you when you don’t know what to say next.”
“What can I say, Kurt?” Jess said. “I’ll look into it.”
“Good. That sets my mind at rest,” Koenig said, scowling. “Destiny says she’s out of her own mind with worry and Luke Short thinks I plan to hang him. So how did you enjoy your ride in the country, Jess?”
Jess passed the note to Ford Talon. “Anything suggest itself to you?”
“Koenig and you’ll are spelled properly,” Talon said. “Whoever wrote this has been taught his ciphers.”
“Who the hell are you?” Koenig said.
“Name’s Ford Talon. I know who you are.”
Koenig glared at Jess. “Are you collecting people now? What the hell is this?”
“Ford is a friend of mine passing through,” Jess said.
Koenig nodded, then, “Any friend of Jess’s . . . you know the rest.” The big man stepped to the door, stopped as though in thought, then turned, his face troubled. “What’s happening in the Acre, Jess? You know something. Tell me what it is.”
Jess and Talon exchanged glances, then Jess said, “The governor dumped fifty-three prisoners from Huntsville on us, Kurt. Most of them killers. I think at least some of the cons are responsible for what happened to Nate Levy and Bruno Cavanni, and maybe to your boy Herm Porter.”
“Where the hell are they?” Koenig said.
“Right here in the Acre,” Jess said. “Ford Talon here is one of them.”
Koenig didn’t like that one bit. Perhaps subconsciously his hand dropped toward his holstered Colt. Jess saw and said, “The men Ford killed needed killing. He saved my life yesterday.”
“An exaggeration,” Talon said. “You were doing all right.”
Jess said, “Ford served the South as a major of cavalry, Kurt. I consider him a friend.”
“Did you have anything to do with the murder of Herm Porter?” Koenig said. Dropping the Lost Cause into the conversation had softened him a little.
“I wasn’t here, remember?” Talon said. “Besides, I don’t normally go around killing people I don’t know.”
“So that leaves fifty-two,” Koenig said. “Where are they?”
“Fifty-one, actually,” Jess said. “Sam Waters is a convict.”
“Damn it, Jess, are you staffing the sheriff’s office with criminals?” Koenig said.
“Only Ford and Sam, and that’s just temporary.”
Jess rose to his feet. “I’ll go talk with Luke Short, ease his mind,” he said. “That should help Destiny sleep better.”
“Hell, I’ll take care of Luke,” Koenig said.
“No, you won’t,” Jess said. “What the Acre doesn’t need is another killing.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Banjo Tom came in with a gun in each hand, hunting trouble,” Luke Short said. “Everybody saw it.”
“Kurt Koenig says that’s how it happened, Luke,” Jess said.
“Then why the hell are you here, all dressed up in your sheriff’s suit?” Luke said.
Luke was hardly in a position to criticize Jess’s mode of dress, since he sat at a table in the White Elephant in a shabby robe worn over a long nightgown that showed coffee stains. Not one to go unheeled, a blue Colt lay on the table in front of him, reflected in the silver coffeepot.
“Kurt says you think he’s planning to hang you,” Jess says. “He says Destiny can’t sleep worrying about it.”
“Worrying about him or me?”
“About Kurt. Destiny doesn’t want you to go off half-cocked and call him out.”
“Hell, she knows that even on my best day Kurt can shade me,” Luke said.
“Maybe she recollects Jim Courtright,” Jess said.
“Jim made a mistake. If you stand belly to belly with a man, look out for his watch chain. When he brought up his gun the hammer got tangled in my chain and then I done for him.” Luke allowed a ghost of a smile to touch his lips. “Long-Haired Jim could shade me. I was lucky that night.”
“Well, Kurt has no intention of hanging you,” Jess said. “He knows you shot Van Meter in self-defense. Besides, aren’t you two business partners?”
“Only in the Green Buddha, but I buy his opium for my place.”
Luke poured himself coffee with a rock-steady left hand. When he put the pot down he said, “I may not be the fastest gun in Hell’s Half Acre, Sheriff, but by God I’m sneaky, and sneaky wins gunfights.”
Jess smiled. “Is that a warning, Luke?”
“Damn right it is. I’m warning you to stay away from the Green Buddha.” Luke’s blue eyes turned the shade of hardened steel. “Don’t cross me on this, Casey.”
“I want opium and morphine out of the Acre, Luke. And I heard that there’s already been a couple of deaths. I won’t let that stand.”
Luke’s face didn’t change. “You heard what I told you,” he said. “I have big money invested in the Green Buddha and I don’t intend to lose it.”
Jess rose to his feet. “That’s a fight for another day, Luke.”
“I got a feeling that day will come mighty soon,” Luke Short said.
* * *
Despite the wound in his side, his stiff-kneed cowboy gait and the punishment his feet took in high-heeled boots, Jess Casey had walked to the White Elephant, figuring that he should show his star around town.
When he reached the New York Hat and Dress Shop he stepped inside, a welcome chance to rest his barking dogs. The snooty shopgirl was most helpful.
Yes, she had served modome.
Yes, modome had bought some clothes and shoes.
And she was so sorry that the sheriff had missed modome. She had left with an older gentleman not twenty minutes before.
Jess thanked the lady and continued on his way. He walked past an alley named McKenna’s Close and stopped when he heard a woman cry out, her voice muffled quickly as though someone had put a hand over her mouth.
A laughing urchin ran out of the alley and almost collided with Jess. “Why the hurry?” he said.
The boy, all red hair and freckles, said, “Three big fellers caught a girl and they have her back there. I’m gettin’ my buddies so they can watch the show.”
Jess cuffed the boy’s head and said. “Get away from here, you little pervert, and don’t come back.”
