Brothers in Blood (14 page)

“The Turley Gang,” Shawn said.

“Never heard of them. Let's go in the dining room and you can tell me all about this business. Marge will bring coffee.” He always worried about offering coffee to any of the many Mormons in the area, but he figured they could always refuse.

“A wonderful house you have here, sir,” Lord said, admiring it.

“My father-in-law built it before I came here. He's a very educated man and studied house design across the country before he built this one.”

After they were all seated at the table, Lord folded and unfolded his large calloused hands on top of it. “Well, to begin with, Sheila is only seventeen. John Turley, maybe thirty. He's a man who dresses well and acts like he's a prince. How he does that on a two-bit cow outfit is beyond me.

“He has three men with him who I'm sure are wanted back in Texas. Since they showed up, there's been disappearances of several men over the past two years—mostly strangers who looked like they had money. Never saw them again. Sheriff Simms said they likely drifted on.”

“But we never believed that,” Shawn said. “We think the Turley Gang killed them and hid the bodies of over a half-dozen men.”

“Ever see the horses they rode in on again?” Chet asked.

“No, and we've damn sure looked.”

“Horses are sure harder to hide.”

“They could have them over to the Bill Williams mining district and sold them, no questions asked.”

Chet nodded his head. “That's been done with a few of our cattle.”

“Anyway, Turley took a shine to Sheila at the dances. I warned her against him, and she agreed that he was probably mixed up in something outside the law. But three days ago, she up and disappeared. We think he kidnapped her and left the country. I knew the sheriff wouldn't do anything but say it was just romance. But me and the boys don't agree. I'm here to offer you five hundred dollars to find her. If she wants to come home, fine. She don't have to, and if you're certain that it's her own heart-felt idea to stay with him, I'll accept that.”

“I understand.”

About that time, Monica and Marge arrived with coffee. They brought fresh-baked pastries along with it and the two boys smiled when they saw it.

“You and the boys have searched for him. Where did he go?”

“We think south. A few folks saw them with packhorses. Shawn can show you their tracks.”

“That'll help. But you three feel certain Sheila didn't go on her own with him?”

Kevin swallowed hard. “She and I are pretty close. She told me that he scared her and she wanted no part of him. I'll never believe she went willingly with him.”

“I know you're a busy man, but I feel you're our only hope to find my girl,” said Lord. “You have a reputation in this country for getting things like this done. I know your wife is expecting and you have several ranches to look after, but I also know there ain't another man in this country who could do this.”

“You realize I could fail, too?”

Lord nodded, face somber. “I would accept that.”

“Kevin, there's a Mexican boy in the bunkhouse. His name's Jesus and he's a little older than you. Tell him I need to see him. He'll have to find my other man, Cole, and then be ready to search for her in the morning.”

Kevin left the room almost at a run.

“Then you'll look for her?” Lord let out a sigh of relief.

“We'll try. We'll be in your country about two hours past sunup and Shawn can join us.”

He turned to Shawn. “Bring your bedroll, rifle, and warm clothes, and be ready for a long ride.”

“I will, sir.”

“This ain't an army. My name's Chet, Jesus and Cole are the other two that ride with me. Jesus can track, and Cole isn't afraid of any man we've met. Both men are good at this kind of work.”

“I'll be proud to ride with you—Chet.”

“I don't expect you to do this for free,” Lord said.

“We haven't done anything yet. Anyway, you can't put a price on your daughter.”

“I know folks have bantered this around. Why aren't you the sheriff?”

Chet chuckled. “I'm too damn busy running five ranches.”

Kevin came in the door, Jesus following.

“Jesus, meet Lord and Shawn McElroy. You've met Kevin. He told you the circumstances we're up against?”

“Yes, he did. I will get Cole and be back. Breakfast here before daylight?”

“Yes, as usual. And two packhorses and shod horses for the three of us.”

“Cole and I will be ready.”

“Shawn's going to meet us over at their place in the morning.”

“Good. Does he cook? Nice to meet you all.” Jesus turned to leave.

“Don't let him touch a skillet,” his father said, and they all laughed.

The McElroys started for home, and Marge hung on Chet's arm as they watched them mount and ride off. “You were't home even a day and someone needs you.”

“I guess you married a gadabout.”

She gazed fondly into his eyes. “No, I married a man who cares about others. I'm proud people count on you when the law won't do anything for them. You better be thinking hard about finding someone to sit in that swivel chair and administer the law better. And Roamer isn't the man. He'd be bored to death. And you would, too.”

They both laughed, and he folded her in his arms and kissed her. Damn, he was a lucky man.

But while he held her, breathing in her fresh scent of lavender and fresh-baked bread, he couldn't help thinking about Sheila McElroy. Where was she? And did she want to be there? He'd have to find out.

Everything was set. He stood outside in the cold and darkness talking to his men while they saddled and packed.

“How is Valerie?” he asked Cole.

“She sent her best to you and Marge. I think things are going fine between us. Say, I hated I missed helping you get that grizzly.”

“I know. Glad things are going so well.”

“They really are. Hey, that Jenn is a great gal, too. She sent her best wishes, too. Jesus told me about this girl that's missing. What do you think about her?”

“I think we have to find her and ask just what she wants to do. She may be with them on her own, but it don't sound like it. You just never know.”

“Right. You think they're killers, too—that bit about the missing men?”

“Not till we can prove it.”

“Right. We're about done here. We'll wash up and join you up at the house in a few minutes.”

“I'll be there. Good to have you back.”

“Still, sure wish I'd come on the bear hunt—”

“Jesus and I knew that. But we only had one bear. We figured we could handle him.”

They laughed, and he headed for the house under the cold clouds overhead.

Over breakfast, Cole asked Marge if she thought it would snow.

“It may. Right kinda clouds, aren't they?”

Jesus nodded and swallowed a sip of coffee. “If they make water, it would be good anyway.”

“Dry as it was this past fall, I agree,” Chet said, cutting pancakes on his plate with the side of his fork.

Breakfast over, he kissed his wife good-bye, hugged Monica, and went to dress for the outside.

Marge watched while he buttoned his coat before leaving the cool enclosed porch. “You know the routine now. Just be careful for the baby and me, Chet Byrnes.”

“I'll do that.” He kissed her and left as quick as possible, not wanting to prolong the leave taking that always tugged at his heart.

The roan horse acted a little upset, breathing vapors out his nostrils. He danced sideways going down the drive and was still upset when he passed under the bar. Chet watched his mount close. He expected the horse really wanted to buck, but was held in check by his past training. They turned west and headed for Preskitt. While the days had lengthened some, they still were short compared to the summer months.

Shawn joined them on the road south of Preskitt, riding a stout-looking bay. He shook hands with Cole, and after transferring his bedroll to the packhorse, they rode on.

A few snowflakes whirled around them, but none of any consequence, before they started off the mountaintop. Far below lay the desert, and it would be warmer down there, but it was a steep and long winding road to get there. They camped that night at the bottom at a ranch with water and feed for their animals for a small fee.

The man recalled the gang and Sheila passing by there. He said he knew she looked distressed but never approached him for help. “Them buzzards with her was tough and I knew it, but she never asked anything of me. I was glad when they went on. They were like you said—sure enough hard cases.”

“Any idea where they went?” asked Chet.

“I figured they were headed for Mexico, but I'm not certain.”

“Any reason to think that?”

“Yeah. The three were wanting to go to the brothels there, they said.”

“Anything you can tell us about their names and looks?”

“One was called Slick; he was about five-eight. Maybe twenty, and had slicked back hair. He was a cocky sumbitch with ivory-handled guns.”

“Who else?”

“Denver, he was forty, I bet, but he was tough. Those other boys didn't cross him none.”

“What else?”

“He wore a low-crowned, light-colored hat with rawhide strings to keep it on.”

“And the last one?”

“Claude, they called him. He wore a derby hat and cowboy gear. Another cocky bastard. All told, they were asking for trouble, but they listened to Turley when he said something.”

“Thanks. You've been a big help. We know enough now to find them.”

“They kidnapped that girl?”

“Yeah, we're pretty sure they did,” Shawn said. “She's my sister.”

“Ride easy, men. You're the posse been bringing them in, aren't you?”

Chet nodded.

“I'm damn glad to meet you and hope you catch those bastards.”

“Thanks, we'll find them.”

“I'll leave you all to turn in,” the rancher said, and headed for his house a short distance away.

“Well, we have a good picture of them. I'm going to bed,” Cole said.

“It'll sure help us down the road.” Chet kicked out a place for his bedding. Once the space was clear of rocks, he spread it out. He was ready for some sleep. Plus, his wife was all right at home. It always eased him to get home between these trips to check on her. When he yawned big, a coyote answered him. He laughed as he crawled inside his bedroll and was asleep right away.

In the early morning light, they rode on to the small village called Phoenix, named for the old ruins of a past civilization that they thought was from the Aztecs. Chet had heard some called them Hohokam ruins, for a people who vanished before the white men came. In his travels, he learned the territory was full of such former civilizations.

It was a long day in the saddle. When camped for the night Cole visited a few cantinas, but learned nothing about the Turley Gang.

The next day, though, the Hayden's Ferry man remembered seeing them and said that Sheila was still with them. The gang had a two-day lead, but they wasn't moving very fast. Chet and his men had gained some time on them. It may be that Turley had no concern about the McElroys' chasing them. Knowing nothing about the man's plans, they could only keep tracking him.

In Casa Grande, a blacksmith told them he'd shod a horse for one of the gang. That shortened their lead, but Tucson lay ahead. It was a big place to cover and try to learn something about the men they followed.

When they rode into the city, Chet wished he didn't have on long handles. They damn sure didn't have to worry about any snow there. It was hot. He sent Shawn and Cole one way, and he and Jesus went the other.

Tucson had the usual crowded streets—peddlers and cart sales, burro trains with water and firewood. The firewood consisted mostly of sticks from the desert, stacked high on sleepy burros' backs. A boy guided the animals with a switch, giving them sharp voice commands. The man who owned them hawked his ware and sold bundles to women for their cooking. Goats, too, that they milked into the housewives' buckets, with the bleating herd gathered around the sale.

They found a cantina and went inside for a beer and information.

“I don't know any John Turley,” the bartender who brought their beer said.

“Four tough
gringos
. One was a cowboy with a bowler hat.”

“Oh, they were in here last night.”

Chet slapped a half-dollar on the bar. “What else do you know about them.”

The bartender hesitated, and Chet placed another half-dollar on the scarred dirty bar.

“They said they'd go to Mexico, that my
putas
were too high-priced for them.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I told them yeah, but all those down there had the clap.”

Jesus laughed, and the bartender joined in, pleased at his joke.

“They have much money?” asked Chet.

“They had money to pay me for the bottle of whiskey they drank. That big man, I'd seen him before. Yes, in El Paso. I don't know his name now. Them others I hadn't ever seen before.”

Chet paid him another half-dollar and thanked him.

“Oh
, sí, señor. Muchas gracias
. I hope I can help you again.”

Chet drank only half of his warm beer and they left the place. When they cleared the door, Jesus said, “That money was probably more than he makes in a day.”

They were only a day behind. Turley's outfit probably took the King's Road south to Nogales. Determined to catch them, they rode out in a trot. Stopping at a cantina down the road, the whiskered barman said they'd been there that morning.

The three of them remounted and hurried their horses along. Jesus found tracks where they'd turned off the road. After following their trail for a distance, they smelled smoke, dismounted, and drew their rifles.

“Shawn, don't shoot too quick,” he cautioned the younger man. “We don't want anyone shot that doesn't deserve it.”

“Yes, sir.”

The boy acted level-headed enough, but he might overreact when he saw his sister. Chet set out, making his way through the willows. The smell of wood smoke from a campfire grew stronger. Soon, he found a path that led there and he took it.

Moving with caution, he spotted a man and two horses. The rest may have gone on to Nogales.

Then he heard the man say, “Don't try to get them ropes free, little girl. You ain't escaping John Turley's camp with me here. Besides, I may wanta take a peek at you naked.”

“You do, and when he hears about it you won't ever see anything again.”

“Ha, ha. He only took you along to sell you to a rich hacienda owner. He's gone to get him right now.”

Chet stepped out of the willows, his gun pointed at the man. “Make one move and you're dead.”

The girl screamed, then saw her brother following close behind Chet. “Shawn, you found me.” Then she began to cry.

Chet disarmed the man and sat him on his butt beside a log, while Shawn comforted his sister and untied her. Jesus checked around the camp and removed a rifle from the scabbard on the outlaw's horse. Then Chet and Jesus tied the man up.

Chet squatted down on his boot heels beside Sheila as she used her hands to wipe the tears from her eyes.

“Sheila, did any of these men rape you?”

She shook her head and took Shawn's kerchief to dry her eyes.

“I'm not trying to embarrass you, but we have to know. Neither Turley nor any of his men molested you?”

“No, they were saving me to sell to some rich Mexican rancher as a . . . virgin.”

“I understand. Your father, mother, and brothers want you home. You know that?”

“I sure hoped they did.”

“They do, they said even if you married Turley but wanted to come home, bring you home to them. That's pretty strong, isn't it?”

“I would never marry him. He's an outlaw. And I think I know where they buried one of the men they killed.”

What a piece of luck. “Where's that?”

“Under a shed on the place he had up there.”

“When you get home, tell Deputy Roamer where that is. No one else. He'll dig it up. When the others come back to camp, we'll capture them. After that, I'm sending you home on the stage, so you get there quicker.” He patted her arm and stood up.

Chet pointed at the man on the ground. “Gag him. Then hide our horses down the road a ways, so they don't see them. We're going to have a big welcome party for them.”

“Can I kiss you, sir?” she asked, getting to her feet.

“Sure.” He bent down and she kissed his cheek.

“Oh, thank you. And thank God, too. I never thought anyone would ever catch them. I'd gave up all hope and decided I'd have to be a captive mistress for someone.”

“Well, you're safe now, missy.”

They laid plans, and Jesus fed them before darkness came. They built up the campfire, sat the gagged man near it, and concealed themselves in the nearby willows. Stars came out before two riders came into camp.

“Denver, where the hell are you?” a voice called out.

“Get your hands high, or we'll kill you.” Cole slipped in on one side and Jesus the other and disarmed them, then forced them on their bellies with their hands behind their backs.

“Where's John Turley?”

“He went to San Marie to see a man about selling her to him. He won't be back till tomorrow.”

“You better not be lying. If you are, we'll cut your throat and leave you here to die.”

“No, no, I'm not lying.”

“He went there all right,” the one called Claude said.

They put the three in handcuffs, then Chet posted guards to watch them throughout the night.

Chet told them that if any one of them let out a peep to warn Turley, he'd shoot them dead. Then they waited.

Jesus and Sheila fed them a breakfast of oatmeal, then beans for lunch. Shortly after lunch, riders approached and everyone cleared out of the camp, taking cover in the willows.

A big dark-complected man rode in, then a well-dressed Mexican on a fine Barb horse came in with two
pistoleros.
Chet and his men got the drop on them, made them get down, and disarmed them. They cuffed the men together, but each was cuffed so they faced front to back.

The
patron
made wild threats at Chet until he showed his Marshal's badge. Then he slumped into silence.

“You'll be charged with kidnapping and slavery in the Federal court at Tucson. Miss McElroy will give testimony there, and you'll be tried in a federal court. I'll also ask them to hold you for murder charges in the Coconino County courts.”

Since they now had seven prisoners, Chet sent Jesus and Shawn to rent a wagon to haul them to Tucson. That process took two days, and lawyers hounded Chet in front of the courthouse. Someone told him the Mexican authorities wanted their citizen, Fernando Vasquez, released immediately. If not, they threatened there would be an international incident with Mexico.