The Intruders Page 20

  “Twenty-four,” Lonnie told him.

  “Then I’d appreciate it if you only sent in four at a time after this first bunch is done,” Trammel said. “You can send as many as six at a time if you want, but no more than that. I know you boys are hurting, but I don’t want any trouble. You understand my reasons.”

  Lonnie nodded. “Six it is, then. No more, only less. I promise.”

  Trammel was glad to hear it. “You in charge of this place for the time being?”

  “I guess so,” Lonnie said. “I’m here the longest and I’m the oldest, so that’s how it usually works. What do we do now, Sheriff? What about our wages?”

  Trammel wished he knew. “I don’t know. The Hagens are scattered to hell and gone, but I imagine they’ll get here in a couple of days. They’ll decide on things after that. Until then, best if you try and keep the peace.”

  Lonnie scowled as he said, “There’s one Hagen that’s closer than them all, but if he steps foot on this land, I—”

  Trammel cut him off before he said too much. “I won’t let that happen. I’ll make sure he stays out of here. You won’t be seeing him any time soon. But you have to promise not to go looking for him while he’s in town. And don’t pay attention to any gossip either. If you don’t hear it from me, it’s a lie. Deal?”

  The two men shook on it and the matter was settled, but Lonnie clearly still had something on his mind.

  “What is it?” Trammel prodded.

  “It’s just that a bunch of us rode out to check the stock when we found Mr. Hagen as he was,” Lonnie said. “The cows we left behind are all still here, but the horses are gone. All of our best breeding stock. Some of the boys tracked them and it doesn’t look like anybody stole them. They just cut the fence and let them scatter. Why would anyone do that? Why not just take them?”

  Trammel had not known about the animals, but now that he did, he understood why. “Do your best to bring them back, Lonnie. The family will want to know how many head they have to work with. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear more.”

  Trammel climbed into the saddle and brought around the horse Elias had given him from the livery.

  The men were lined up six aside of Emily’s buckboard when she released the brake and set her horses moving. Hawkeye kept a somber but steady pace as he led the long, sad procession down the hill from the ranch into town.

  Trammel brought up the rear, keeping a good distance back from the group. This was their moment and he did not want them to feel like he was crowding them.

  He doubted he would have much to worry about until they hit Main Street. He would have to keep an eye out for any of them who might break free and take a run at Adam Hagen.

  Trammel only hoped the damned fool had the good sense to stay out of sight for a while.

  Blackstone had seen enough death for one week. He did not want to add to it if he did not have to.

  * * *

  Trammel was surprised by the reception that awaited them as they turned on to Main Street. The boardwalks on both sides of the thoroughfare were packed with men, women, and children to watch the procession as it passed by. The men took off their hats. The women bowed their heads. Children followed the lead of their parents and looked somber.

  The saloons, all of them controlled by Adam Hagen, sported black silk bunting across their signs. Lilly was out in front of the Gilded Lily clad in a black dress and veil. There was no sign of Ben London anywhere.

  It was the silence of it all that struck Trammel the most. The only sounds he heard were the creak of Emily’s buckboard wheels as it rolled through town, and the jangle of the bits from the horses that rode beside it. A slight wind caused the signs to rock back and forth and squeak as they did so. But beyond that, only silence.

  Trammel kept a close eye on the ranch hands as they slowly approached the Clifford Hotel. His gut ran cold when he saw Adam Hagen on his second-floor porch, wearing a black suit. He held a black hat over his heart as he stood at attention and slowly offered a salute as Emily’s wagon rolled by.

  Trammel moved his hand toward the Colt in the holster under his left arm. He did not pull it but was ready to do so if any of the ranch hands took offense to Adam’s presence.

  The men put great effort into looking the other way as they passed the hotel, which made Trammel feel a bit better about things.

  The crowd began to disperse when the buckboard made the turn off Main Street toward the barn where she prepared the dead for burial.

  Trammel lingered in front of the hotel, eyeing Hagen the entire time. He remained at attention, his ruined arm quivering from the effort of holding his salute until the men climbed off their horses and carried Charles Hagen’s body into the barn.

  Only then did he break off the salute and place his hat back on his head.

  He looked down at Trammel, puzzled. “What’s that look for?”

  The town was still relatively quiet, so Trammel kept his voice down. “You’ve got one hell of a nerve.”

  “For what? Standing at attention as my father’s remains passed by? We may have had our differences, but I’m still his son.”

  Trammel had no affection for Charles Hagen either. His anger was stirred by the danger Hagen’s presence presented. “Those boys are blaming you for this. Every man on that ranch thinks you killed him. You’d do well to stay inside until after the funeral.”

  “I’ll do no such thing. My father—”

  “Quit calling him that!” Trammel said, much louder than he had intended. “I’ve got six dead men in the past week because of you, and I don’t want you to be the seventh. I gave those boys my word I’d keep you in line and, damnit, that’s what I’m going to do, even if I have to lock you up to do it.”

  “Why, Steve.” Hagen smiled as he leaned on the railing. “I didn’t know you cared.”

  Trammel was in no mood for Hagen’s mouth. “Don’t push me, Hagen. I’m going to be taking a long, hard look at that man’s death, and if I even have the slightest shred of proof that you’re involved, I’ll see to it that you swing for it. Nothing your boy Moore does will be able to stop me either.”

  Two Chinese men appeared on the porch behind Hagen, both of them carrying Winchesters. They had long knives tucked in their sashes.

  “While your concern for my well-being is touching, you have no cause for concern. As you can see, I’m quite well protected. As for my . . . relative’s passing, what makes you or anyone else think I could’ve possibly been involved?”

  Trammel remembered something Lonnie had said to him back at the ranch and decided to push it a little further. “Those boys up at the ranch didn’t exactly curl up in a ball and cry themselves to sleep when they found Mr. Hagen dead. They went to check on the stock and found a lot of peculiar tracks around the area.”

  “That so?” Trammel noticed Hagen had stiffened a little. Not enough for someone who did not know him to notice, but enough for Trammel to catch. “What kind of tracks?”

  “All over the place,” Trammel hedged. He did not know the facts, so he did not want to corner himself with a lie that was too elaborate. “Tracks that don’t add up. And the horses are missing, but not the cows. Imagine that. Any ideas on why that is?”

  Hagen made a great show of thinking about it, casting his eyes to the sky as if waiting for some word from above. “No, can’t say I do. Could be some renegades, though. Blackfeet or Cheyenne maybe. Could account for the odd tracks because they don’t shoe their ponies.”

  “It’s a thought,” Trammel lied. “I’ll make sure Lonnie looks into it. He’ll be running things until the family gets here. I’d stay particularly far away from him. He’s not exactly fond of you.”

  “Duly noted.” He gestured to the two Chinese behind him. “But as I said, I’m well protected. Still, poor Lonnie. He must be taking the loss particularly hard. Tell me, did Dr. Moore or Emily say when he died?”

  “Not when or how,” Trammel told him. “They’ll let me know later, and I’ll b
e sure to put it in the report when they do. But who am I kidding? Moore will tell you everything long before he gets around to telling me.”

  “Nonsense,” Hagen said. “You’ll find Jacob is a consummate professional who will carry out his duties to the letter, sir.” He looked out toward Emily’s barn. The ranch hands were gathered around in a loose circle outside, smoking cigarettes and talking.

  “I only hope he didn’t suffer. His death will sting for them for a long time. I hope the animals didn’t do too much damage. That would make Emily’s job that much harder.”

  Trammel grinned. “Who said he was found outside? I didn’t say that.”

  Hagen kept looking out toward the barn. “It only stands to reason that he would die outside. God would not be so cruel as to take him in his sleep. He would’ve wanted the last thing he saw in this world to be his beloved ranch.”

  “Careful, Adam,” Trammel said as he rode toward the barn. “You just made your first mistake.”

  * * *

  He found Hawkeye standing around in front of the barn, away from the ranch hands. He was looking awfully green, and Trammel wondered if he might get sick. “You all right?”

  The young man raised his head and breathed in deep. “I didn’t get a good look at him at the ranch, but when they pulled that burlap off him, I saw plenty then.” His stomach rumbled and he let out a muted belch. “I’ve seen what birds can do to a cow, but never a man.”

  It was times like these that Trammel was reminded that Hawkeye was barely out of boyhood himself. “Think you’re up for another ride back to the ranch?”

  The thought of being away from the barn seemed to brighten his spirits. “Sure, if you can spare me.”

  Trammel was glad to hear it. “Ride up there and find Lonnie. Tell him to keep an eye on the cattle.”

  “Sure, boss,” he said as he went to his horse and pulled himself up into the saddle. “What do you want me to tell him to look for?”

  That was the problem. Trammel did not know for sure. He just had a feeling. “He’ll know what to look for better than I could. I’ve just got a feeling someone may have left the cows for the same reason they let the horses go. I know that’s not much, but it’s just a feeling I have. He’ll know whether or not it’s a dumb idea.”

  “I’ll tell it to him just like that,” Hawkeye assured him. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I think it’s best if we’re both here after nightfall. I’ve got a feeling those boys from the Blackstone Ranch are cooking up something and I don’t want to leave you here on your own when they make their move.”

  Trammel would be happy to have him around. He’d proven himself to be mighty handy in tight situations.

  He watched his deputy ride off and saw Lilly walking along Main Street toward the jail. She was still wearing the black dress and veil he had seen her wearing as he rode by on his way into town. Black was never her best color; it made her look pale and small. And even from this distance, he could tell she had been crying.

  He dug his heels into the Appaloosa’s flanks and brought the horse to a full gallop. He reached her in time to cut off her view of Hagen at his porch.

  “Lilly,” he called out to her as he reined in the horse and climbed down from the saddle. “What’s wrong?”

  She held a black silk handkerchief to her nose and turned away from him. He knew she was not one for tears, so if she was crying, there was a reason. “What happened? I promise I won’t get angry.”

  She buried her face in his chest as she sobbed. She was saying something, but between the crying and her voice muffled by his shirt, he didn’t know what she was saying.

  He eased her away from him and saw her veil was sopping wet. “What brought all this on?”

  “Everything,” she cried. “Hagen’s dead. Montague’s dead. Bookman’s dead. Who’s next? Me? You? Ben?”

  Trammel unlocked the jailhouse door and ushered her inside. Now that it was just the two of them, he hoped he could get her to make sense. “Did anyone make any threats against Ben?”

  “Not directly, no,” she admitted. “But you know how people are. They talk about things they claim they’ve overheard. How they’re going to lynch him come this Saturday. How they’re going to see justice done come this Saturday, by hell or high water.” She stopped another round of tears before they got started. “They don’t say anything while Ben’s around, but I can hear them when they think I don’t. It’s such ugly talk, Buck. We didn’t have this in Kansas.”

  Trammel was saddened, but not surprised. He had heard this kind of talk in Kansas and Chicago and New York, too. Usually there was nothing behind it. The more they talked, the less they did.

  But Blackstone was a different town today than it was yesterday. King Charles was dead. Adam Hagen held sway over Blackstone for now, at least until the rest of the Hagen kids got to town.

  Trammel had known how to handle Adam. He had the pressure of King Charles to keep him in line. But now there was no one standing between Adam and the top of the mountain, and Blackstone was caught in the middle. Adam would not let anything happen to Ben if he could avoid it. But whether or not he could avoid it was the big question. There was a great big hole in this town where King Charles used to sit, and it would take a lot of fancy steps from Hagen to fill it.

  “You see anyone hanging around the saloon you don’t like, you throw them out,” Trammel told her. “Don’t try to do it yourself, and don’t have Ben do it if you’re worried about him. Have the barman do it, or send someone to get me. Better yet, come fetch me yourself. That way I’ll know you’re safe.”

  She stopped sobbing when she noticed the door to the cells was open. “The jail’s empty. Where’d all the dopers go?”

  “Bundled them up and brought them down to Laramie,” Trammel said. “Sheriff Moran and his boys are going to load them onto the next boxcar out of here and send them on their way. The railroad’s not happy about it and neither is Hagen, but I couldn’t care less. They’re out of our hair and won’t be coming back.”

  “I thought things were a bit quieter in town the last couple of days.” She looked up at him over her shoulder. “I thought it was because I was missing you. You haven’t been around much, Buck. Not since that business with Ben and Bookman.”

  “I guess I haven’t,” he admitted. “It’s been a rough few days around here, Lilly. A lot of reports to write, so the truth has a chance to get out there. This town will go up like a tinderbox if the wrong rumor catches the wind. Rhoades and me have been doing all we can to keep people from getting damn-fool notions about what’s happening and why. So far we’ve been able to keep everyone in line, but that all could change in the blink of an eye.”

  “I know,” Lilly said as she dried the last of her tears. “That’s what has me so worried. For my saloon. For us, too.”

  He had heard that tone from her before and knew what it meant, but he had to be sure. “What does that mean?”

  She sat at the edge of a chair and said, “It means I’m tired, Steve. I’m tired of the mess I walked into the day I stepped off the train. I didn’t know it was going to be this bad. I didn’t know about Adam hating his father, and the laudanum den and the trouble. All I knew was that you were here, and Ben would be with me, and that together, maybe the three of us could make a good life here. Ben at the saloon, and you for everything else that went into making life good.”

  Trammel had been afraid of this. She always had an eye on the door, looking for a reason to run. A reason that never came, but always left him wondering what she would do if it did. He had a feeling he was about to find out, for that reason had finally come. “And you don’t think we can have a good life here? You and me?”

  “You chose to sleep in here for the last couple of nights instead of my bed,” Lilly said. “Or at your room in the Oakwood Arms. You never once swung by unless you happened to be in that part of town to check on me or see how I was. I’ve never been a woman who needed a lot of coddling, but every woman needs to
be held once in a while.”

  “Men, too,” Trammel said. “Someone’s lit a fire under this town, Lilly, and it feels like it’s going to boil over any minute. And this march coming on Saturday is going to bring a lot of trouble with it. I just know it. I can’t just spend time with you while the rest of the town is on edge. Not with this march looming over us.” He hated to say what he was thinking, but he would hate himself more later if he did not say it now. “Maybe you should think about closing up the saloon for a couple of days. Or at least Saturday, until the whole thing blows over. Things are liable to be more civil after that.”

  She looked up at him. Hopeful. “Why do you think so?”

  “Because whatever tension has built up around here is liable to be gone by then. And when it is, I’ll have to pick up the pieces. But one way or another, it’ll be over. If you’re at the saloon, you’ll be in danger. But if you’re in here with me, you’ll be safe.”

  “I was thinking of another way,” she said. “You remember Delilah from Wichita? Used to work at the Pot O Gold Saloon?”

  He remembered her being popular on account of not being particular about the men she allowed into her bed. “What about her?”

  “Well, she’s respectable now,” Lilly told him with renewed enthusiasm. “She runs the girls in this new place that opened up in Laramie called the Rose of Tralee. We were such great friends back then, and she’s already said she wouldn’t mind it a bit if I came to stay with her for a couple of days.”

  Trammel could think of ten reasons why that was a bad idea. One was worse than the other. “I was just down in Laramie the other day, and Sheriff Moran expects a lot of trouble in town on account of the marchers. And that saloon is owned by Lucien Clay.”

  “I know Mr. Clay,” she said. “He was there to greet me when I stepped off the train in Laramie. He was awfully nice to me and Ben. Gave us lunch and everything without any charge.”

  You’ll pay for it eventually, Trammel thought but did not say. Clay never gave anything away without getting more in return. “Laramie’s liable to be just as dangerous as here. And I’d like to think you’d prefer to be with me than staying in a whore’s room in town.”