Colorado Clash (16 page)

“That a threat?” Cain said.

“You damn right it is.”

“A man could get downright jealous, you know that?” Cain said. “Here I thought Fargo and I were friends. But I guess he prefers you.” He winked at Lenihan. “You be careful of him, though. He’s got a way with the ladies. Amy might go for him.”

“Shut up,” Lenihan said. “I don’t even like to hear you say her name.”

Cain eased himself out of his chair. His face had hardened. And so had his voice. “I’ve had about enough of this, Fargo. You know damned well Lenihan here was part of the robbery and that he killed those three boys to keep them quiet. You’ve got all the evidence you need to impanel a jury and get a conviction. I don’t know why you’re so all hellfire hot to defend him like this but I’m telling you right now that it doesn’t make any difference to me. I’m going to ask him some questions and then I’m going to lock him into a cell back there and then I’m going to send a runner to get Judge Mooney down here and tell him that I want to start proceedings right away. Now do we understand each other?”

Lenihan looked like a ten-year-old who’d just been deserted by his parents. He slumped forward and put his face in his hands.

“You take good care of him, Cain,” Fargo said. “Or you’ll be damned sorry.”

 

Five steps out the front door of Cain’s office a slender woman in a dark cotton dress and a yellow shawl, her head down and her body moving forward like a bullet, ran into Fargo and bounced off his chest. He grabbed her before she fell. In the spill light from the sheriff’s window he saw the finely etched face of Amy Peters. Even with her years, even with the panic in her eyes, she was a beauty. In the darkening day, her shawl fell from her shoulders and she gaped up into the eyes of Fargo as if he were her direst enemy.

She ripped herself from his grasp. “You’re the one! You’re the one who arrested him! Those deputies came right to my house and told me!”

Stirring up trouble. And damned fast, too. Those two hadn’t left more than ten, twelve minutes ago. They’d be traveling saloon to saloon now, making things as dramatic as possible. They were a perfect match for Cain.

“You need to calm down, lady.”

“Calm down. Do you know what’s going to happen to Ned in Tom Cain’s jail?”

“Nothing’s going to happen. I’ve warned Cain that if he doesn’t keep Lenihan safe he’ll answer to me.”

Her angry laugh rang in the darkness. “And you’re taking Tom Cain’s word? If you had doubts why did you arrest him in the first place?”

“Because right now there are some things that point to him. Maybe he’s innocent and maybe he’s not. But there was enough evidence to bring him in.”

“Of course he’s innocent.”

The door opened and Cain himself, silhouetted in the doorway, said, “Well, I have to say you’re looking awfully pretty tonight, Amy.”

She flew at the lawman before Fargo had time to react. She knocked him against the door frame and then clawed at him with her hands. In the light Fargo could see that she’d drawn two streaks of blood down one of Cain’s cheeks.

Fargo started to grab her by the thin shoulders but before he could pull her back far enough Cain brought a fist up from nowhere and smashed her in the face. She fell backward into Fargo’s arms and began sobbing. Fargo got her on her feet and then went after Cain, backhanding the man hard enough to evoke a real cry. Then he grabbed Cain by his fussy hair and slammed him back against the door frame twice. Then he hurled him into his office. Cain stumbled, sprawled across his desk. Lenihan was nowhere to be seen. Cain hadn’t wasted any time putting Lenihan in a cell.

Fargo stomped into the office and jerked Cain to his feet. Then he threw him onto the bench where Fargo had sat with Lenihan. “You hit women now, do you, Tom? Probably felt real good, didn’t it? The woman you wanted all these years and you finally got to show her what happens to women when they cross the great Tom Cain—or whatever the hell you’re calling yourself these days. Now you’re going to let her get Lenihan a good meal over to the café and let her sit in the cell with him while he eats it. And if I hear otherwise, you’re going to be damned sorry because I’m going to this town council you talk about and tell them how you blackmailed a banker in one of the towns you cleaned up and left town with about a fourth of all the money in the bank. Maybe you’ve got a few things like that going here. In fact I’d bet on it.”

As Lenihan had just a while ago, Cain looked shaken. But his trembling wasn’t from fear but from rage. To be humiliated in front of the woman who had humiliated him—

Fargo drew Amy into the light. From what he could see, Cain’s punch hadn’t landed square. She touched her chin delicately but said, “I’m all right.” Then to Cain, “If you hurt Ned in any way, you won’t have to worry about Fargo. You’ll have to worry about me. I’ll kill you myself. And you know me well enough to know that’s not an empty threat. Now I’m going to go get Ned a good meal and you’d damned well better do everything Fargo told you to.”

She reached over and took Fargo’s hand. “Now I know that Ned’s got at least one good friend besides me. Thank you.”

Fargo scowled at Cain and walked out into the night.

 

The plate was filled with sliced potatoes, three thick slices of beef, beets. There was a deep cup of black coffee and there was a piece of apple cake in a paper napkin. A silver fork moved around on top of the feast, stopping first at the beef and then at the potatoes. Then the fork was set down on the coarse gray woolen blanket covering the cell cot and the hand reached for the cup of coffee.

Lenihan brought the coffee to his mouth, inhaled the steam. “This is good, Amy. Thanks.”

Amy had never been in a jail cell before. She had had no idea how claustrophobic it was—and she would be able to leave. Then there were the smells. She didn’t like to think about what had caused them. She could smell the sudsy cleaner somebody had mopped the floor with but that only added to the assault on her senses. And finally there was the laughter up front, on the other side of the heavy, closed door. She wondered if Cain had invited people in just so he could laugh with them and tease Ned and her. It would be like him. She had decided not to tell Ned that Cain had hit her. It would just make him angrier and more miserable.

Seeing that Ned hadn’t touched his food, she said, “You need to eat, Ned.”

“I wish I was hungry. But all I want is this cigarette and coffee.” He’d forgotten his pipe but fortunately he’d brought along his makings.

“You don’t know when you’ll have your next meal.”

Cain had let her bring a lantern into the cell. In the flickering light of it Ned appeared to be recovering from some injury or wound that had stunned him into deep shock. He spoke but the words were hollow. He saw her but he appeared to see something beyond her too. Some nightmare.

She took the plate from his lap and then picked up the knife and fork. She began to cut the beef as she once had for her little children. Tiny bites so they wouldn’t choke. These were twice that size but still they might intimidate him less than large cuts of the meat.

She made a joke of it. When she’d cut several pieces she left the cot she’d been sitting on and seated herself next to him. “Now, my sweetheart, open wide.”

“Oh, c’mon, Amy!”

“Open wide!”

The ridiculousness of the situation must have amused him because he actually smiled. And opened his mouth.

“Now chew.”

“You are crazy.”

“There’s one bite. Open up again because here comes another one.”

And so she fed him. He didn’t eat all of it but he made a good dent in it. She thought it was endearing that he wolfed down the cake. He had a sweet tooth. Like a boy. All the time she was doing this, laughing and hearing him laugh, she was able to keep her sadness at bay. But when Ned was done with the meal and she had seated herself across from him again, the sorrow seized her. And she knew he recognized it in her eyes.

“I think Fargo’s with me on this. I can see why he brought me in. I’ve been thinking about that. If I was a deputy I’d do the same thing. But I think he’s got a lot of doubts, Amy, and I think that Cain’s afraid of him. Fargo’s not afraid to kill a man and I get the sense that he wouldn’t mind killing Cain anytime the chance came up.”

“I liked him, too, Ned. But I worry about Cain. Fargo can’t be here to watch him all the time. I just hope that Cain decides it’s not worth taking the chance to do anything to you.”

“Well, Pete’s around a lot of the time.”

Mention of Pete Rule made her feel better. “That’s right. I think he’s on our side, too. That’s what I’ve been told anyway. He stands up for you when people make accusations.”

“That’s what I mean.”

But she could tell that he was more hopeful than actually convinced that Pete Rule could stop Cain.

The door opened. Laughter and smoke rolled into the shadows of the jail cells. Cain was outlined in the door with a glass of beer in his hand. His own laugh was as hearty as a pirate’s.

Rubbing it in, she thought. Showing his contempt. She was glad she’d raked him across the cheek. She wished she’d done more damage. Except for protecting the lives of her children, Amy Peters had never had many violent thoughts. But she had them now. She felt she could cut Cain’s throat and feel no remorse at all.

He ambled back, continuing his theatrical laugh. “I’m sorry you folks can’t come up and join us. Well, I should say—that Ned can’t come up and join us. Amy isn’t a prisoner. She could come up but I doubt she’d want to. And it might not be safe. Four men with a lot of alcohol in them—”

He reached Lenihan’s cell and put his face near the bars.

“What do you want?” Ned snapped.

“What I wanted and what I got seem to be two entirely different things, wouldn’t you say, Ned? I tried to convince this lady that she’d be better off with me. And given how things have turned out, I’d say maybe I was right, wouldn’t you, Amy?”

“Fargo’s going to find out who’s really behind all this,” Amy said. “And I’m pretty sure he’ll find out that it’s you.”

“Ah, yes, Fargo. I’d watch him, Ned. I can hear it in Amy’s voice already. She’s smitten with the man. That’s how it usually goes with Fargo. You just can’t trust him around women.”

“I asked you what you want, Cain.”

“Well, Ned, since you’re so insistent—what I want is to tell you and Amy that visiting hours are over. I didn’t have to let her back here to see you in the first place. Let alone let her bring you a fine meal. But now the time’s up.”

“I want you to let her out the back door.”

“Now why would I do that, Ned?”

“Because I don’t want her raped.”

“You sure don’t have much faith in me.”

“I don’t give a damn what you do to me, Cain. But let her out the back door.”

“I hope you’re touched by this, Amy. Your little friend here has gone noble on us. I don’t know about you but I’m deeply moved by this. I didn’t think the little man had it in him.”

Amy swept up the plate and her purse and stalked to the door. “I don’t know when or how, Cain, but I’m going to kill you with my own hands when this is all over.”

“Then I take it this is the wrong time to ask you to marry me?”

Amy looked back at Ned. “I love you, Ned. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“Just to show you what a law-abiding lawman I am, Ned, I’m letting her out the back door. Even after she threatened to kill me. Now you be sure and tell Fargo what an upstanding lawman I am, will you?”

He laughed the whole time he lifted the heavy bolt off the door and let her out into the alley.

Pushing through the batwings Fargo saw how crowded the Gold Mine saloon was. The long bar was packed as were the tables. On the surface this might have been nothing more than one of those nights when a large number of men decided to spend a little time drinking before going home to their families and supper. But that would have meant a jovial mood among most of the drinkers and the mood here was anything but jovial. The sure sign of this was how none of the drinkers paid any attention to any of the saloon girls. Usually they’d be joshing with them or flirting with them. A few of them would be going upstairs to partake of their services.

But not tonight. Tonight there would be only one topic of conversation. And that would be Ned Lenihan.

When the bartender saw Fargo, he shouted, “Here’s the man who brought him in!”

A few dozen shouts went up in the smoky air. A couple of men near Fargo patted him on the back. Admiration and appreciation shone in every eye. Fargo was the man of the hour.

By the time he reached the bar, the bartender had his schooner ready for him. Two men parted to make room for him. The bartender said, “This town owes you a debt of gratitude, Mr. Fargo.”

“Well, time will tell.”

“Well, you got him, didn’t you?”

“We’ll have to see.”

The conversations around him stopped. Men wanted to hear what Fargo was saying. And Fargo wanted to be heard. Though law and order had come to a good part of the frontier, the people of Cawthorne had lived through a frightening month. Three of their own young men dead. And the lingering and ever-increasing suspicion that Ned Lenihan, one of the most trusted people in the entire town, was behind it all. The rage would be setting in just about now. Fargo had seen it too many times. One or two of the men would start stirring up the others, suggesting that they had the right to take the law into their own hands. Suggesting that maybe even Tom Cain himself would throw in with them. Suggesting that since Ned Lenihan had killed some of their own—that they had the right to kill Lenihan themselves, to hell with judges and juries. At first most of the men would disagree. They would rightly see these men as hotheads, as troublemakers. But one by one and then two by two and then in larger numbers the other men would give in to their own anger, the alcohol consumed only making it easier to do so, and what had been unthinkable a few hours ago would now seem like the absolute right thing to do.