The Lawman Page 11

  Gilberto and Raquel exchanged glances.

  “The three of you move about the town and find out what you can about the sheriff. What his name is, when he came to town, when he became sheriff and anything else that you can,” Raquel instructed. “You will find us at the livery stable.” They looked to Gilberto for confirmation, but she snapped, “Go!” and they moved.

  “Why the livery stable?” Gilberto asked his sister. He had been looking forward to sleeping in a real bed.

  “Gilberto, we will have to stay out of sight so that Decker does not see us.”

  “If he is staying at the hotel—”

  “Yes. We will have to stay somewhere else.”

  “There is nowhere else.”

  “Then we will camp outside of town,” Raquel said. “If he sees us it will ruin everything. I don’t want him to see us until the last moment of this life.”

  “And it will be my pleasure to kill him,” Gilberto said.

  “And mine to watch.”

  When Moran left his office he saw the three men leaving the cantina. They were strangers, and Moran had been a lawman long enough—and enough times—to distrust strangers. He watched their progress as they crossed the street and then suddenly split up.

  He decided to follow one of them and see where he would lead.

  His instinct was more one of self-preservation than anything else. The phrase “bounty hunter” had only recently been brought up, and now there were three strangers in town. True, they were Mexicans, but Mexicans could collect a bounty just as well as gringos.

  With the direction his thoughts were taking this morning, it definitely was time to start moving again.

  San Louisa had now lost all of its charms.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  When Decker left his hotel he saw Moran leaving his office. Ducking back into the lobby he watched and saw Moran watching the three bandits. When the three men separated, Moran started to follow one of them.

  Was the man acting like a real sheriff all of a sudden? That wasn’t very likely. He was probably acting out of a natural distrust of strangers, and that made Decker happy that Moran had not seen him yet. As lawmen went, Moran had not exactly been very visible yesterday.

  Decker decided to tail Moran, because if the man was that jumpy, this might be the day he’d make his move.

  For the next hour he followed Moran as “The Lawman” followed the bandit. The bandit, on the other hand, seemed to simply be roaming the streets, stopping occasionally in a store to speak with the merchants.

  It was odd behavior for a bandit.

  While following the two men Decker kept an eye out for Gilberto or Raquel, but they were more than likely keeping a low profile so as not to run into him.

  Decker knew he was going to have to do something about them well before he made a move on Moran. The only problem with that was that there were five of them, and only one of him.

  Unless, of course…and the answer came with a jolt of irony…unless the town lawman could be persuaded to back him.

  Moran didn’t know him. What if he became convinced that Gilberto, Raquel and their men were bounty hunters?

  It was a big ‘what if?’, but if it worked…

  After the initial hour Moran gave up on tailing the bandit, and crossed the street to go in the opposite direction. Decker stepped into a doorway and watched the sheriff to see where he was headed. When it was safe to do so he stepped out and followed him.

  Moran eventually went into a café—hopefully for breakfast—and by then Decker’s plan was completely formed in his mind.

  He entered the café, found Moran, and went over to sit with him.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  “Can I help you?” Moran asked. He was frowning. He disliked the idea that there was another stranger in town, and that the man had suddenly appeared at his table.

  A waiter came over and Decker said, “Coffee for two, and bring the sheriff whatever he wants for breakfast.”

  Moran, his appetite possibly ruined, said, “Just the coffee.”

  “Nothing more? That’s not the right way to start a day, Sheriff.”

  “Why don’t we start it with an explanation from you, friend?”

  “Well, I saw you come in here and figured maybe you’d like another gringo to talk to. You know, about home and all that?”

  “You were wrong.”

  “All right, then I wanted somebody to talk to.”

  “About what?”

  “About this little problem I’m having.”

  “Which is?”

  “Well, this is a little embarrassing to admit,” Decker said, scratching his head, “but the fact is I’m a wanted man back in the States.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “Yep. A thousand dollars.”

  “That’s quite a price.”

  “My problem is that there are some people in town who are looking to collect.”

  At that Moran suddenly looked interested. They suspended the conversation while the waiter put down a pot of coffee and two cups.

  “Something else?” he asked.

  “No!” Moran said firmly. After the waiter had left he looked at Decker and said, “Bounty hunters?”

  Decker nodded, and spread the fingers of his hand to show Moran. “Five of them.”

  “Five? On a thousand-dollar bounty? That’s only two hundred apiece.”

  “Two hundred dollars is a lot of money to some people—but I don’t think all five will collect.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the leaders of this particular group are a brother and sister, and I know them. Their name is Diaz. He’s as ugly as sin, but she’s beautiful—and deadly. Anyway, I think they picked up these three other men to help them because they knew I’d recognize them. They’re either going to pay these fellas about fifty dollars each, or…”

  “Or what?”

  “Or they will kill them when the job is done. After I’m dead, I mean.”

  Moran thought it over.

  “That would make sense. That way it would be a straight two-way split, with no expenses.”

  “I need your help.”

  “Why don’t you just ride out?”

  “They’d just follow me and I’d have to face them somewhere else down the road. At least here I’ve got a fellow countryman to help me out. You will help me, won’t you, Sheriff? I mean, I’m not trying to wave the flag in your face or anything, but us gringos have to stick together.”

  “You’ve got a lot of nerve asking me to help you. I’m the law and you’re a wanted man.”

  “Not in Mexico.”

  “What’s your name?”

  Decker picked the name he’d seen on another poster of a man he knew was still on the loose.

  “Mike Sideman. If you got any posters in your office you can look it up.”

  “I don’t get posters from the United States down here.”

  “Well then, you’ll have to take my word for it, Sheriff.” “I mean, why would I tell you I was wanted if I wasn’t?”

  Moran nodded, sipped his coffee, and then said, “All right.”

  “All right…what?”

  “I’ll help you.”

  “I knew I could count on you!”

  “Are you staying at the hotel?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Go back to your room and wait for me. I’ll find these people and check them out.”

  “I really appreciate this, Sheriff,” Decker said, standing up.

  “Forget it. What name are you using?”

  Decker hesitated just a second. He was registered under his own name, and if Moran recognized it, his disguise would be revealed.

  “Decker.”

  No flicker of recognition, and Decker was looking very closely.

  “Okay, Decker. Back to your hotel and wait to hear from me.”

  “Thanks, Sheriff.”

  Moran signalled to the waiter and dismissed Decker. “Get out and let me eat
my breakfast.”

  Decker left and walked back to the hotel. This might go off better than he planned. If Moran found Gilberto and Raquel and tossed them in jail, the other three men would be left to wander aimlessly about town. Without the brother and sister to tell them what to do, they’d be lost.

  And the Diaz siblings would be out of Decker’s way.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Moran ate his breakfast thoughtfully, virtually without tasting it, and thought about what the man called Decker had just told him.

  Decker had to be telling the truth. Why would a man tell a lawman he was wanted if he wasn’t?

  That meant that Moran was right in following the stranger earlier. He was one of the three men that the two bounty hunters had working for them.

  If they were here tracking Decker for a thousand dollars, wouldn’t they be aware of the price on Moran’s head? The last he had seen, the price was fifteen hundred. It might have been increased after that Pemberton job, because that had been the first job where he’d used violence.

  So, if they were here looking for Decker and spotted Moran, would they recognize him?

  Moran was going to have to do something before that situation presented itself.

  He finished his breakfast and left the cantina looking for the two bounty hunters: an ugly man and a beautiful woman.

  They shouldn’t prove too hard to find.

  Gilberto and Raquel were in the livery stable, waiting for their men to report.

  “This is not what I had in mind when we came to town,” Gilberto said, lying back on a bed of hay. Raquel was sitting next to him, her arms behind her, propping her up.

  “Neither did I, but we cannot afford to have Decker see us. You can visit your whorehouse tonight, my brother.”

  “I look forward to it. And what will you do tonight?”

  “Stay out of sight. My appetites are not as uncontrollable as yours.”

  “Your appetites are just as strong as mine, little sister,” Gilberto said, running his finger up his sister’s right arm.

  “Then perhaps it is simply that I am stronger than you, Gilberto. I control my urges rather than letting them control me.”

  “Like you did with that sheriff? Tell me, did you kill him before, or after?”

  “None of your business.”

  Gilberto laughed, and stopped when he heard someone enter the livery.

  “It is probably them,” Raquel said.

  They both stood up, preparing to step out of the stall they were sitting in, when a man barred their way. He was holding a gun in his hand, and when he saw them he cocked it. “Hello, bounty hunters.”

  Moran checked around town and found out that the three strangers had been asking questions about him. Though he wasn’t much liked in town anymore, the merchants freely gave him this information because they liked strangers even less.

  Moran checked around further and found out that a man and woman fitting the description he had were seen walking over to the livery.

  He went to the livery and entered cautiously, gun drawn. He heard two voices—male and female—from a stall in the back, and walked lightly to it.

  In the stall, just getting to their feet, were the man and woman he was looking for.

  God, but the woman was beautiful! If he had her in his stable at the Palace he’d consider staying on, because she would be a gold mine.

  Right now, however, she was a threat.

  “Hello, bounty hunters,” he said, cocking the hammer on his gun.

  They froze, and frowned at him. The look on the man’s ugly face was particularly comical.

  “What did you call us, señor?”

  “You heard me—and keep your hands away from your guns. Using you left hand now, take them out and toss them out of the stall.”

  “Jefe, you are making a big error here,” Gilberto said, doing as he was told. Raquel also obeyed.

  “Okay, one at a time, step out of the stall. Hey!” he snapped at Gilberto when he took a step forward. “Ladies first, pig!”

  Gilberto threw a hard look at the lawman, but stepped back.

  “A gentleman,” Raquel said, “and a handsome one, too. Could we not work something out, Jefe?”

  “You mean like a roll in this here hay?” Moran asked.

  Raquel shrugged.

  “That could be arranged.”

  “We might be getting around to that later, lady, but right now you and your brother come with me. Come on, ugly. Your turn. Step out.”

  “How did you know we were brother and sister?” Raquel asked, puzzled.

  “A little bird told me. All right, let’s move. We’re going to jail.”

  “A little bird named Decker?” Raquel asked.

  “You’re a smart lady.”

  “And you are not very smart, señor,” Raquel said. “It is Decker who is the bounty hunter.”

  “Right, and he’s chasing the five of you, right?”

  “Even if we are bounty hunters,” Gilberto broke in, to Raquel’s annoyance, “why are you taking us to jail?”

  “Haven’t you heard? Sheriffs don’t like bounty hunters, or haven’t you been at it long enough to know that?”

  “Sheriff, I assure you,” Raquel said, “Decker is the bounty hunter.”

  “Well, if he is, and he’s tracking you, that means you’re wanted, so you’ll feel right at home in my jail.”

  “Decker is here looking for someone else.”

  “And why are you here?”

  “Looking for Decker.”

  “But you’re not bounty hunters.”

  “That is right.”

  “Hey this is making more sense by the minute, lady.” By now they had reached the sheriff’s office. “All right, inside. I wish I could offer you a choice of cells, but I only have one.”

  He pushed Gilberto into it, and then said to Raquel, “If you please?”

  Exasperated, Raquel stepped into the cell. Moran locked it and put the key in his desk.

  “Now, if you’re real nice I’ll send you something to eat later.”

  “Sheriff—” Raquel shouted, but the man had already gone.

  “What is going on?” Gilberto demanded aloud.

  “Decker has outsmarted us,” Raquel said. “He has told the sheriff a story, and since his story came first, the sheriff will continue to believe him.”

  “Juan and the others will get us out,” Gilberto said.

  “Juan and the others cannot find their pants unless we set them on fire. We will have to think of something, my brother, and fast.”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  It had worked!

  Decker watched from his window as Moran marched Gilberto and Raquel to jail.

  With those two out of the way, his job would be a lot simpler.

  Watching closely he could see that both Raquel and her brother were talking to the lawman. Obviously they were trying to tell him that he was making a mistake. Just as obviously Moran was not buying it. How could they convince the sheriff that they were not hunting Decker for a bounty? He certainly wouldn’t believe that Decker—one man alone—would be hunting for five.

  When the knock came at his door Decker knew it was Moran because he had seen the man cross the street to the hotel.

  When he opend the door Moran stuck his gun in his face and cocked the hammer.

  “What’s going on, Sheriff?” he asked, backing into the room.

  “Just being cautious, Decker. I’ll take your gun—left hand, please.”

  “What do you mean, cautious?”

  “Well, I only have your word that those two are bounty hunters, and they claim that you are. Either way, I don’t like bounty hunters, so I’ll just lock you up too until I can satisfy myself about who is who.”

  This was not the way the plan was supposed to work, Decker thought.

  “You’re going to put me in a cell with them?”

  “Now, I wouldn’t do that to a fellow gringo, Decker. There’s a woodshed ou
t behind the sheriff’s office. I’m going to lock you in there. Let’s go.”

  “You’re making a mistake, Sheriff, really.”

  “Sure, Decker, sure. Let’s take a walk.”

  When the door closed on Decker he found himself in total darkness. Even the cell with Gilberto and Raquel might have been better than this.

  It was definitely time for a new plan.

  He sat down with his back against one wall of the shed and surveyed his own private cell. As his eyes began to get accustomed to the dark he could see that there was some light coming from some cracks between the wood, but by pressing with both hands he determined that whoever had build this shed had done a fine job.

  It was strong enough to hold a horse.

  He looked around the floor and saw a few pieces of wood, but the shed had apparently not been used for some time. The ground beneath him was damp, and he knew that his butt would get cold and numb soon enough.

  He still had his matches and cigars, so he lit one up and used the match to take a better look at things. All around the floor there were small chunks of wood that he might be able to use to make a small fire. At least he’d have some light and some heat.

  He gathered the pieces of wood together, but they were a little damp and would not light immediately. He checked pockets and found the poster on Moran. He couldn’t burn that, he needed it. Checking further he found an old poster in his back pocket that he didn’t need anymore.

  Using the paper he started a fire, and eventually the wood pieces caught. It wouldn’t last very long and maybe he should have saved them for later, when it got dark out and cooler, but he didn’t intend to still be in that shed when it got dark.

  The only question was, how to get out?

  He settled down by the fire to think that one over.

  His gun was gone, but he still had his gunbelt. That meant he still had his cartridges. He could pry some of them open and use the gunpowder inside. Could he blow the door that way? Probably not. Enough powder to do that would probably kill him, or at least deafen him. Besides which, he probably didn’t have enough powder to do the job.

  Briefly, he considered setting one of the walls on fire, but discarded that. The entire structure would catch fire fairly quickly, and he’d be barbecued before the fire weakened one of the walls enough for him to break through.