The Lawman Page 9
“Señor, I am the law here! I must insist that you answer some questions.”
“I think I am tired of you,” Gilberto said. He took out his gun and pointed it at the sheriff.
“Put that gun away,” Ernesto said officiously. “It will do you no good here.”
“Gilberto,” Raquel said, “let’s leave this place.”
“In a moment.”
“Now!” She turned and jerked her head at the three men at the bar. They put their drinks down and left.
“Gilberte.—”
“First I want this idiot’s badge,” her brother said. “I want to make him eat it.” He tapped the sheriff’s badge with his gun and said, “Take off the badge, fool.”
“I cannot,” Ernesto said, looking shocked. “I am the law.”
“No,” Gilberto said, putting the gun against the sheriff’s forehead, “this says I am the law. Give me that badge.”
“Gilberto, this man is crazed,” Raquel said. “He is mad. He truly believes that the spirit of the cat will protect him from harm.”
“Then I must prove him wrong.”
With that Gilberto Diaz pulled the trigger. The hammer fell with a click, but there was no shot.
Gilberto’s eyes flicked to his sister, who was staring at the gun in his hand.
“Raquel—”
“Gilberto, let’s go! This place is cursed!”
Gilberto was tempted to pull the trigger again, but decided against it. Once could have been a misfire. Twice would be…
“Let’s go!” he said.
He took the gun away from the sheriff’s head and they hurried out. Their men had brought their horses around, and they mounted up and couldn’t ride out of Rio del Gato fast enough.
When Tomàs de la Vega entered Rio del Gato he did so quietly, without fanfare. He spent one day, eating, drinking, listening.
He heard from the liverywoman of the stranger who drove a hard bargain and “stole” a horse from her.
He heard about the incident in the saloon, when the town sheriff—a ridiculous-looking fellow—had stood up to a band of bandits and run them out of town. A lie, he thought, but then he also heard about the bounty that Decker was hunting, and he realized that the bandidos knew about it, too.
As for the story of the cat in the lake, he thought it was a pleasant diversion.
That night, as he went to sleep in his hotel room, he was convinced that trouble was stalking his amigo, Decker. From here on in Tomàs would have to travel much faster, with fewer stops, if he was going to get to Decker in time to be of some help.
In time to keep him alive.
He would not allow someone else who was close to him to die.
Chapter Twenty-five
In less that a week Crystal’s Palace was set up and in business.
Moran and Crystal had purchased the rooming house Crystal was staying in and had used some carpenters from the town to fix it up the way they wanted. When they received the cloth they ordered, they’d be able to hang colored draperies and cover the furniture to match.
The first two girls they hired were Carmen and Rosa, who they decided would be their top girls, commanding a higher price than the others. This satisfied the two girls, who no longer held a grudge against either of them.
They also hired some local girls and quickly had a stable of half a dozen girls.
They passed the word to nearby towns that there was a “private” club in San Louisa, and were sure that the word would pass even further.
The first night they opened they got one customer, the town drunk, who thought they were serving liquor.
“Let’s not get discouraged,” Moran told Crystal. “It takes time to build up a clientele.”
They were in the room they had both moved into in the converted rooming house. Since they were business partners, they figured Moran ought to move out of the hotel and move in with Crystal.
“Won’t that look bad?” Crystal had asked beforehand. “I mean, you being the sheriff and all.”
“I can do anything I want in this town, Crystal,” Moran told her. “This is nothing like being a lawman in the States, where they spit on you if something goes wrong.”
Now, sitting up in bed together, Crystal was noticeably upset, although she hadn’t really said anything about it.
“I suppose you’re right,” she told him, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I just wanted this to be such a success.”
“It will be.”
A week later Crystal’s was full, with men waiting downstairs for one of the girls to be free. It had become a popular stop for merchants and ranchers from the area, and word was spreading even further.
Moran had also hired three men—one from town, and two who were passing through and had agreed to stay on—as bouncers. They were all big, and they all wore guns and knew how to use them. There was very little trouble at Crystal’s Palace with those men on duty. There was usually one man on duty inside, one off duty and one making rounds on the street.
Moran had deputized all three, so that they were collecting pay from the Palace and from the town.
Crystal told her girls that they didn’t have to do anything they didn’t want to do. If a customer wanted something that they couldn’t deliver, there was sure to be a girl in the building who could. Crystal’s customers always went away satisfied—except, of course, when they asked for Crystal herself. Crystal was warming one bed these days—Moran’s—and it wasn’t for pay.
Well, not exactly, anyway. After all, she did still need some of his money until the Palace really starting making a profit.
As for the town, it was not making a profit from its new attraction at all, and contrary to what Red Moran might have thought, the town fathers didn’t like it much. Starting with the mayor on down, they felt that the town should be getting something from the success of Crystal’s Palace.
On the other hand, they were glad to have him and his money in town. He was still spending money in the town stores, even if he wasn’t dropping any at the hotel.
So they wished that they were sharing in the profits of his cathouse, but were too afraid to ask. Afraid that he might leave town and take his money with him.
Also, he was doing a good job of upholding the law, and the mayor had asked him to keep the job permanently.
San Louisa was starting to look better and better to Moran as a place to settle down.
“We should give up.”
Both Gilberto and Raquel heard the man say it.
Their three men were hunched around the campfire and one of them had just made that comment, talking about the search for Decker.
Gilberto came up behind the man, put his foot on his back and pushed. The man fell chest first into the campfire, yelled and rolled off of it, patting his chest with his hands.
“What—” he shouted.
“If you want to leave, then leave,” Gilberto said, “but don’t try to take the others with you.”
“I was just giving my opinion, Gilberto,” the man said. “We are spending a lot of time looking for this gringo. We are not making any money.”
“Don’t worry,” Gilberto said, thinking about the price on the head of the man Decker was looking for, “there will be plenty of money for all of us—but if you want to leave…”
“I do not want to leave, Gilberto,” the man said, earnestly.
“Then keep your opinions to yourself.”
“Si, I will.”
Gilberto and Raquel had their own campfire.
“You promised them some of our money?”
“I made no promises,” Gilberto said. “I simply said that there would be enough money for all of us, and there will be—but they will not get any.”
“We must find Decker before he finds this man, Red Moran,” Raquel pointed out to her brother, “or we will not get any of the money either.”
“Do not worry” Gilberto said, “we will find him.”
“Where do we go from here?” Raquel aske
d.
“When we were in the last town I heard about a place called San Louisa. Perhaps we can try there.”
Raquel gave her brother an amused look.
“I also heard about this town. What you heard about San Louisa is that they have a new whorehouse there, with high-class girls. That is what you want to go there and see.”
Gilberto shrugged.
“You must admit, it is as good a place as any to look next.”
“Yes,” Raquel said with a sigh, “I must admit that. How long will it take us to get there?”
“Three days.”
“We had better get some sleep, then,” she said. “We will have to start out early in the morning.” She laid back on her blanket, then propped herself up on her elbows and asked, “How is your leg?”
“My leg is fine,” he said tightly. “Go to sleep.”
He ignored the leg as much as possible, even though it hurt much of the time. When he did think of it, it was only in terms of paying Decker back.
Gilberto put his head down on his saddle and thought about the money Decker was after.
First they would find him, then wait for him to find the man he was looking for. After that they would kill him, take the man and turn him in themselves for the reward.
Gilberto had no qualms about turning the man in. After he all, he was a gringo.
Chapter Twenty-six
Decker was starting to think he would never find Red Moran when he heard a story. It was about a man and a woman who opened a “private” whorehouse in a small town in the southern part of Mexico.
The woman was a beautiful red-haired American, and the man—also a gringo—had become sheriff of the town.
It takes a lot of money to set up a private operation like the one he was hearing about. He was two days’ ride from the town of San Louisa, and decided to check it out.
Chapter Twenty-seven
The mayor of San Louisa was presiding over a meeting of the town council. The five men seated at the table with him were all merchants in town. They were also frequent customers at the new Crystal’s Palace.
“I say we must talk to the sheriff and his…his woman,” the mayor was saying. “San Louisa should be prospering for being the site of their new and very successful business. Do any of you agree?”
The owner of the hotel agreed, because he was no longer getting any of Red Moran’s money. In fact, Moran was getting his money when he went to the Palace.
The other four men, however—who owned the hardware store, the general store, the café and cantina, and the dress shop—were still getting their share of Moran’s money.
Moran shopped at both the hardware and general stores, he and Crystal ate at the café and Crystal bought her dresses at the dress shop.
The mayor’s proposal was being voted down, four to two.
The mayor decided to work on the owner of the café, Hector Dominguez.
“Hector, what will happen when señor Moran decides to put in a kitchen, or starts serving liquor? Where will you be then? Not only will you not be getting any of his money, but you’ll be losing money”
Suddenly Hector decided to change his vote, but that still left the council at a three to three deadlock.
There was one member of the council who was not present, however, but the mayor didn’t figure he could count of him for his vote.
The other member was Red Moran.
That night in bed Crystal passed on some information she had heard from the dress shop.
“Mrs. Mendez, the owner’s wife, was telling one of the other women that there was a special meeting of the town council today.”
“There was?” Moran asked. “I wasn’t informed about that.”
“That’s because you—and I guess me—were the subjects of the meeting.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Red, the town is getting tired of seeing us get rich and them not getting some of it. The mayor made a proposal that the council talk to us about it.”
“And what was the council’s vote?”
“Three to three.”
“Deadlocked, so nothing will happen.”
“Maybe not, and maybe the mayor will eventually get one more member to go his way”
“So what? Then they’ll come and talk to us and we’ll say no.”
“And then what happens? You don’t want to make enemies here, Red. We’ve got a good thing going and we don’t want to mess it up.”
“Stop worrying. We’re not going to mess it up. What could they do? What could the mayor do. He’s a silly little man who thinks he’s really got some authority. He can’t do anything to us.”
“He could turn you in.”
Moran looked at her and rubbed his jaw.
“That strutting peacock,” Moran said, as if his feelings were hurt by the possibility. “When he needed a sheriff he came to me, and I’ve done a good job.”
“That’s when you were just sheriff, and you were spending your money around town. Now it’s reversed. The merchants in town are spending their money here, and getting nothing back. The women in town are starting to complain.”
“I’ve been thinking about serving liquor,” Moran said, changing the subject. “While the customers are waiting, they could be spending money drinking.”
“Boy, wouldn’t the town fathers love that.”
“Never mind what the town fathers want,” Moran said, taking her into his arms. “They’re all hypocrites, anyway. They spend as much time here as anyone.”
He took Crystal into his arms and said, “Pretty soon, baby, if we want, we’ll be able to buy this town.”
She grinned and said, “Would that make me a town mother?”
Chapter Twenty-eight
When Decker rode into San Louisa he was surprised.
For a town with the hottest new whorehouse anywhere, it did not look very prosperous.
Decker passed by the whorehouse, and saw that other than the sign above the entrance, it looked much like any of the other buildings in town. He wondered what it looked like on the inside.
Later, when it opened, he’d find out.
As he turned his horse in at the livery he realized that he was starting to feel the anticipation he felt whenever he was closing in on his prey. He still had no concrete evidence that Moran was in town, but his instinct told him that he was.
And he had rarely gone wrong trusting his instincts.
As he had done in other towns when he was checking into the hotel, he looked through the register. He found what he was looking for three weeks back.
Red Moran had registered at the hotel.
“I hope you enjoy your stay señor,” the clerk said, handing him a key.
“I’m sure I will.” He started for the steps and then turned back. “What time does Crystal’s open?”
“Eight o’clock, señor.”
“Thanks.”
There were five hours before Crystal’s Palace would open. Decker took the time to walk around town, enter some of the shops and get something to eat. Keeping his ears open, he found out several things.
First, Red Moran had managed to get himself appointed sheriff. Old habits die the hardest. He wondered if Moran had plans to rob the bank.
Secondly, many of the townspeople didn’t like Moran, or the woman called Crystal. They resented the fact that they had opened a successful business and were not turning any of their profits over to the town.
Decker didn’t know if he agreed with that. It certainly wouldn’t make a man popular in town, but why should he turn any part of money he’d earned over to the town, unless it was willingly?
Still, the fact that Moran didn’t seem to have many friends in town, and that he was sheriff, started Decker to thinking.
Moran was clean in Mexico, and Decker would have to take him all the way back to the Rio Grande at gunpoint before he could turn him in. If, as he suspected, Moran’s situation in San Louisa was leading to where Decker thought it was leading, he’d s
oon make the same move here that he had made in all the other towns.
He’d try to rob the bank.
If Decker could catch him in the act, then he’d be able to turn him over to the law here in Mexico and let them provide transportation to the United States.
All he had to do was wait for the itch. And judging from the length of time Moran had been here, and his present situation, he should start feeling it just about now.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Try as he might Red Moran couldn’t reach the itch. It seemed to be right at the center of his back where he couldn’t reach it from any angle.
The Palace wasn’t due to open for a couple of hours yet, and he was in the sitting room alone. He was looking for something to use to scratch it when he saw Gloria come in.
“Gloria,” he called, “come here a minute.”
Gloria was the newest girl in the stable. She had just come to Mexico from the United States. She was blonde and full-figured and she was the first girl Moran felt tempted to try himself. He hadn’t been with another woman since he and Crystal had met, but that had been by choice. Now Gloria was here—younger than Crystal, and obviously eager—and the itch was starting.
“Yes, Red?” she asked. She had made no secret of the fact that she wouldn’t mind warming the boss’s bed.
“I’ve got an itch I can’t reach,” he said, realizing that the statement had two meanings—both of them correct.
“I’ll be happy to help, Red.”
“Right at the center of my back.”
“A little to the right.”
“Maybe if I put my hand under the shirt it would…feel better?”
“Maybe…”
She pulled his shirt out of his pants from behind and slid her hand beneath it. When she touched him it seemed to burn his skin. She ran her fingers across his broad back lovingly and then used her nails to scratch him. As she did so she pushed her crotch up against his buttocks, and he could feel her heat right through their clothes.
“Oh, yeah, that’s the spot,” he said, closing his eyes as she scratched.