Crow Bait Page 10
“For the beef stew?”
At that point the batwings opened and one of the brothers came in. At the moment, Lancaster didn’t know which one it was.
“Hello, George.”
“Dan.”
“What are you doin’ here?” Dan asked. “Why aren’t you at the hotel?”
“No customers,” George said. “So Hermione sent me over.”
Dan gave Lancaster a “See, I told you so” look.
“Does she want me?” Dan asked. “Or our guest?”
George frowned at Dan and asked, “Why would she want to see you?”
Thirty-nine
Lancaster followed George back to the hotel and up to the second floor. Sam gave him a smile along the way. Going up the stairs, he remembered Dan telling him not to be fooled by their smiles.
He noticed that none of the brothers wore guns, so he didn’t feel threatened. He didn’t see any reason not to follow George up to Hermione’s room. After all, she was in charge, and he probably should have been talking to her the whole time.
George led him down the hallway, past his room, to the door at the end of the hall. There they stopped, and George knocked.
“Come in,” a woman’s voice said.
George opened the door.
Lancaster was about to get his first look at Hermione Dickson, who seemed to be in charge of the entire town—all three buildings—of Peach Springs, Arizona.
“Hermione?” George said. His voice quavered just a bit. “Mr. Lancaster is here.”
“Get out, George,” the woman said.
“Yes, Hermione.” George gave Lancaster a look, then turned and went back up the hall.
“Come on in, Lancaster,” Hermione said.
He walked in the door and saw her standing by the window. She was a tall, rawboned woman with short red hair, wearing a plain cotton dress that obviously had nothing underneath it. The kindest thing you could say about her was that she was a handsome woman. Not what you’d expect to find in a whorehouse or a saloon. He supposed if a man came to town looking for a woman, and Hermione was what he got, he could make it work.
“Close the door, please,” she said.
He did.
“I been watchin’ you since you came to town,” she said.
“That a fact?”
“Oh yeah. You spent some time talkin’ to my cousin Dan.”
“He’s a bartender,” Lancaster said. “That’s what you do with a bartender, you talk to him.”
She stood framed in the window, the light coming in from behind her, making her dress almost transparent. She had to be aware of that, but she didn’t have the body to give it the desired effect.
She folded her arms beneath her small breasts.
“Why did you come to Peach Springs, Lancaster?”
“I’m told men come here for the food, and the, uh, female companionship.”
“You got a good look at me, right?” she asked, dropping her arms to her sides. “You think men come here for me? You didn’t come here for me.”
Lancaster gave it some quick thought. He had not seen a gun since he arrived, and certainly no one had made any kind of threatening move toward him. The entire town was made up of one woman, her four brothers, and their cousin—who seemed to be the smartest of the men. And he said he hadn’t seen a stranger in town in over a month.
“Okay,” Lancaster said, “okay, Hermione—uh, Miss Dickson.”
“Hermione’s good,” she said. “Just Hermione.”
He wondered why, with a name like that, she didn’t have some sort of nickname.
“Hermione, I’m looking for a man named Adderly,” he said. “I was told he was coming here to meet a man, named Cardiff.”
“Cardiff?” she repeated. “You’re lookin’ for Cardiff?”
“Actually, I’m looking for three men,” he said. “Adderly, Cardiff, and Sweet.”
“I don’t know anybody named Sweet,” she said, “but I know Cardiff.”
“Not Adderly? Chet Adderly?”
“No, not Adderly. Just Cardiff, Jim Cardiff.”
“I don’t know his first name,” Lancaster said, “but Cardiff’s not a common name, so it must be him. Where is he?”
“He’s gone.” She folded her arms again.
“Gone? Gone where?”
“Just gone. Let’s talk about you. Did the boys tell you about the toll?”
“Toll? What toll? They didn’t mention anything.”
“Anybody who rides through Peach Springs has to pay a toll.”
Lancaster wondered what the hell she was talking about.
“Hermione, we’re getting off the point.”
“No, we’re not,” she said. “The toll is the point. See, you can’t leave town without payin’ the toll.”
“What toll?” Lancaster was getting frustrated. “Nobody said anything about a toll.”
“George!” she suddenly yelled. The door opened and George appeared. “Nobody told Lancaster about the toll?”
“Not yet, Hermione, dear.”
“Why not?”
“We just didn’t get to it yet.”
“What if he don’t have any money?”
“He’s got money,” George said. “I saw it when he paid for his beef stew. He’d got a lot of money.”
Lancaster had kept his money on him, rather than leave it in his room. He still had most of the thousand dollars Andy Black had given him.
So that was it. They were after his money. But how did they expect to get it?
“Look,” he said, “all I’m interested in is where Cardiff or Adderly went when they left here.”
“When they left?” Hermione asked.
“That’s right.”
“You don’t got to worry about that,” she said. “Let’s talk about the toll.”
“Okay,” he said, “let’s get this out of the way. What about the toll? How much is it?”
“Half,” she said.
“Half of what?”
“Half of whatever you have,” she said.
“He’s got a lot,” George said again.
“George,” she said, “go talk to your brothers.”
“Talk to—”
“Go!”
“Oh,” he said, as if he just got it. “Okay.”
“Okay,” she said, after George had gone, “how much have you got?”
“It doesn’t matter how much I’ve got, Hermione,” Lancaster said, “I’m not giving you any of it.”
“In that case,” she said, firming her jaw, “you’ve got a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“If you don’t pay our toll,” she said, “you don’t leave Peach Springs alive.”
Forty
Lancaster stared at her for a few moments, wondering if she was serious.
“Yes,” she said.
“Yes, what?”
“You’re wonderin’ if I’m serious,” she said. “The answer is yes.”
“I’m also wonderin’ how you’re gonna enforce that threat,” he said.
She smiled, and just for a moment she became pretty. He wished he could have seen her when she was in her twenties.
“I’ve got four brothers,” she said.
“With no guns.”
“They have guns,” she said. “You just haven’t seen them yet. And they know how to use them.”
Lancaster studied her. She was dead serious. He’d been taken. Just because he hadn’t seen any guns didn’t mean there weren’t any. Don’t be fooled by the smiles.
“What about your cousin?”
“Dan? What about him? He’s a cousin.”
“He’s a good bartender.”
“That’s about all he is,” she said. “No, it’s me and my brothers you have to worry about.”
“Well,” Lancaster said, “it’s me you have to worry about. You’re in this room with me, and I don’t see a gun on you.”
“You wouldn’t shoot an unarmed woman.”
“I’ve known a lot of men like you,” she said. “They come here, they pay the toll, or they die.”
“Not me,” he said.
“What makes you so special?”
“I’ve got you,” he said. “You’re gonna get me out of here alive.”
She smiled. “Look out the window.”
She moved away from the window so he could walk to it. He kept one eye on her, just in case she had a gun hidden somewhere.
When he looked out the window, he saw the four brothers standing in the street in front of the hotel. They all wore guns on their hips.
“They know how to use them,” she said.
“You said that already.”
“No, I mean they really know how to use them.”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
“So you’re not gonna pay?”
“Not one penny.”
“You’re gonna walk out there?”
“With you,” he said, “yes. You’re gonna get me my horse and I’m gonna leave your little town. It’s up to you and your brothers who’s still alive when I do.”
She stared at him. “Lancaster? That’s your name?”
“Yes.”
“Should I know that name?”
He could see it in her eyes. She was starting to think that maybe they had made a mistake this time.
“Probably not,” he said. “Not if you’ve spent your whole life here, in this little town.”
“I guess I should stick my head out once in a while,” she admitted.
“Well,” he said, “you’re gonna stick your head out now. Come on, let’s go.”
Forty-one
Lancaster walked Hermione down to the lobby at gunpoint. The desk was deserted, as all the brothers were in the street. He could sense that her mind was racing. She would come up with some kind of offer before they hit the street.
He was starting to think he might have been wrong when she stopped walking just before they got to the door.
“There’s an easier way to do this,” she said.
“How’s that?”
“Pay the toll,” she said. “I’ll reduce it. As long as you pay something, the boys will let you leave.”
“Out of the question,” he said. “I won’t pay anything.”
“Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
“Let’s just say it’s my nature.”
“What if I could give you what you came here for?” she asked.
“You said you couldn’t.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say it’s my nature.”
“Then why should I believe you now?”
“Because I’m tryin’ to save us both a lot of trouble,” she said.
“You should have thought of that before.”
“Wait, wait,” she said impatiently. She turned to face him. “Flagstaff.”
“What about it?”
“You’re lookin’ for a man named Sweet,” she said. “He’s in Flagstaff. Or at least that’s where Cardiff said he was goin’.”
“And why would he tell you that?”
“Men talk in bed sometimes.”
“You’re telling me that Cardiff came here to have sex with you?”
“He liked it here,” she said.
“And what about Adderly?”
“He didn’t like it here.”
“So they were both here?”
“Yes.”
“But not now?”
“No.”
Lancaster wasn’t sure he could believe her, but there was someone else he could ask.
“Okay,” he said, “let’s go.”
“Back upstairs?”
“No,” he said, “outside.”
“But…you have what you want.”
“Sorry, Hermione, but I don’t believe you,” he said. “Come on. Out.”
“B-but it’s crazy.”
“Are you trying to save yourself or your brothers?” he asked.
“I’m trying to save all of us!”
“I’m used to this kind of thing, Hermione,” he said. “I made my living for years with my gun. This’ll just be a stop for me on the way to the saloon.”
“You’re crazy,” she said, shaking her head.
“I think it’s pretty close which one of us is crazier.”
Outside, the Dickson brothers waited confidently. They’d been through this many times before. Lancaster would step through the front door, and they’d gun him down easy. After that they’d empty his pockets of all that money George had seen.
But when Lancaster stepped out, he had Hermione in front of him, and none of the brothers was prepared for that.
From the saloon, Dan watched the proceedings from the batwing doors. When he saw Lancaster appear in the doorway with Hermione in front of him, he chuckled and shook his head.
“Lancaster…” he said.
Forty-two
Lancaster stood back from Hermione, instead of standing right up on her. She might have been a woman, but he was willing to bet she had some tricks. He hadn’t searched her, and it was possible she had a gun somewhere beneath her skirts. He would be ready for her if she did.
As they stepped out the door, he saw the four brothers standing shoulder-to-shoulder rather than fanned out, the way they should have been. They were probably used to facing men who wilted beneath their superior numbers, or had no experience in a gunfight. Neither was true of Lancaster.
“Hello, boys,” he said.
“What’re you doin’?” Sam asked. “Let Hermione go.”
“I don’t think so,” Lancaster said. “Drop your guns on the ground.”
The brothers exchanged glances with each other, but none looked capable of making a decision.
“What do we do, Hermione?” George asked.
Lancaster saw her shoulders rise and she took a breath, preparing to answer. But before she could, Dan came busting out of the saloon, shouting, “What do you think you should do, you idiots? Kill him!”
Galvanized into action by someone actually making a decision, the four men went for their guns.
“No!” Hermione shouted, much too late.
Lancaster’s gun was already out, and he had a cool head. While the brothers were firing wildly, their bullets taking out windows to either side of Lancaster, he pushed Hermione down to the ground and fired off measured shots.
Sam was first. A bullet hit him in the chest, driving him back two steps before he toppled over backward.
Harry went next. A bullet in the belly folded him over, and he slumped to the ground.
A piece of hot lead struck George in the forehead and he was dead before he hit the ground.
Fred actually dropped to one knee, either from instinct or weakness in his legs. Whatever the reason, it didn’t help him. Two slugs hit him in the chest and he keeled over dead as the sound of the shots echoed and died out.
Lancaster, with one shot left, turned his attention to Hermione, but if she had a gun beneath her skirts she had no chance to reach for it. Even pushed down to the ground as she was, one of her brothers’ bullets had hit her in the face. She was on the ground, on her side, with the back of her head blown out.
Lancaster quickly ejected his spent shells and replaced them, because there was still one family member left.
He looked over at the saloon, but there was no one there. Dan had apparently gone back inside.
Lancaster stepped down into the street and crossed over to the saloon.
Forty-three
As Lancaster entered the saloon, he had his gun in his hand. Dan was standing behind the bar with a rag over his shoulder.
“Beer?”
“Come out from behind the bar, Dan,” Lancaster said.
“What for?” Dan asked. “They’re all dead, right? It’s over?”
“You got a gun back there?”
“Nope.”
“I’ve gotta ask you
to come out from behind there with your hands up.”
“Okay, Lancaster, okay,” Dan said. “Take it easy.”
Dan raised his hands and walked out from behind the bar.
“What’s goin’ on?” Lancaster asked. “What was that about?”
“What? Oh, that? You mean outside?” Dan shrugged. “I just didn’t want the boys to back down.”
“You wanted me to kill them,” Lancaster said.
“Well, yeah,” Dan said. “It was my only way out.”
“So now they’re dead,” Lancaster said, “and what have you got?”
“Me?” Dan said. “I’ve got everythin’.” He spread his arms. “It’s all mine.”
“Yeah, all three buildings,” Lancaster said. He decided Dan was no threat and holstered his gun.
“How about that beer? On the house,” Dan said.
“Sure, why not?” Lancaster said. “And then I’ll be on my way—unless you’re gonna tell me you got some law here.”
“Now that it’s just me,” Dan said, going around the bar, “I’m the law, so don’t worry about a thing.”
He drew a cold beer and slid it over to Lancaster.
“Hermione give you what you wanted?” the bartender asked.
Lancaster took a swallow and then said, “She claims I should go to Flagstaff, says Cardiff said he was going there to meet Sweet.”
“Maybe she was tellin’ the truth.”
“How likely is that?”
“Not very,” Dan admitted. “She was a liar, but maybe you had her worried enough to tell the truth for a change.”
“Wait a minute,” Lancaster said. He put his beer down on the bar. “You told me you didn’t see any strangers in town.”
“I ain’t.”
“But Cardiff was here.”
“Cardiff’s been here before,” Dan said. “He wasn’t no stranger.”
“What about Adderly?”
“Well, okay,” Dan admitted, “but he was Cardiff’s friend.”
“He was still a stranger.”
“Okay,” Dan said, “so I lied about that, but I knew it would come down to you or them.” The bartender leaned on the bar. “See, I recognized your name. I knew they picked on the wrong man to try that toll business with.”
“Come on, Dan,” Lancaster said, “you must know something that can help me.”