Cotton's Devil (9781101618523) (23 page)

“I feel it.”

Emily sighed and pushed out of his arms.

“I-I'm going back to the ranch. I can use this opportunity to pick up some supplies I forgot to have Teddy get. That sharpshooter that dropped by has me frazzled. Why don't you come out and stay the night? I'd feel much safer if you would.”

“All right. I'll be out as soon as I finish up some things here.”

She started out the door, then stopped suddenly and put her hand to her mouth. “My god! That's him. He's here.” Her eyes were wide with panic as Cotton rushed to her side.

“Where?”

“There. Just going into the hotel. That's the man who came to the ranch.”

J
ack, I want you to go to the hotel and see what you can find out about a man who checked in a little bit ago. He's a scraggly old feller who looks like he'd spent too much time in the mountains and carryin' a Sharps in a fancy scabbard. He's wearin' a floppy-brimmed hat.”

“What's he done?”

“Scared the hell out of Emily for starters. He's the one that gave her a shootin' demonstration.”

“Did he threaten her?”

“Not directly, but I think his aim was for her to warn
me
of somethin'.”

“Warn you of…what?”

“Not sure. Just do it.”

Jack pulled his Remington and half-cocked it, spun the cylinder to assure it was loaded and ready, slipped it back into his holster, and walked out the door. When he got to the hotel, he looked around to see if there was anyone fitting Cotton's description in the lobby. He walked over to the dining room and glanced about, then wandered over to
the checkin desk. The old man who owned the hotel was on duty. He looked up as Jack approached.

“What can I do for you, Deputy?”

“You know how the sheriff and me kinda like to keep an eye out for any troublemakers that might be passin' through. You check anyone in recently that might look the least bit suspicious?”

“Jack, you know if a man has the means to pay for his room, I don't ask questions. In fact, I try not to look 'em in the eye if I can help it. You got a particular someone in mind?”

“Could be a grizzled old man carryin' a Sharps rifle in a fancy scabbard. I'm told on good authority that a man like that came in a while ago.”

“Don't know a thing about him, but a gent with such a rifle did check in.” The old man spun the sign-in ledger so Jack could take a peek at the signature.

“Hmmm. Lazarus Bellwood. Never heard of him.”

“You ain't plannin' on bracin' the feller right here in the lobby, are you, Jack?”

“Not on your life, pardner. Wouldn't mind, though, if you'd sorta keep an eye on him for me. Just report any suspicious doin's, if you could see to it.”

“Sure, Jack, sure. Whatever you say.”

With that, Memphis Jack Stump strolled out onto the wide hotel porch. He noticed a couple of the town's drunks sitting in rockers under the portico exchanging stories and sipping from bottles of whiskey. They looked up as Jack came out. Obviously uncomfortable at being caught drinking on the street, they quickly slipped their bottles behind their backs. They grinned sheepishly at the deputy as he looked away with a knowing grin and said, “Gents. Nice weather we're havin', ain't it?”

Both men grunted when he passed by on his way back to report to the sheriff.

“Name's Lazarus Bellwood. You ever heard of him?” Jack sat on the edge of the desk.

“No.”

“You want me to keep an eye out for him? See where he goes, who he talks to?”

“Wouldn't be a bad idea. He's up to somethin', and I'd like to be at least one step ahead of him if it turns out to be what I'm thinkin'.”

“You're thinkin', uh…what?”

“He doesn't haul that rifle of his around like it was made of gold for nothin'.”

“He surely doesn't figure on facin' one of us with a rifle.”

“He thinks he's damned good with that thing.”

“How do you know that?”

“Remember, Emily got a shootin' demonstration from him.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Cotton looked at the clock on the wall as if he'd suddenly remembered something important, then said, “I'll be back later. Keep watch on the store.” He gave Jack a nod and walked out the door as casually as a man with no worries whatsoever. Jack scratched his head and shrugged. He sat at Cotton's desk and began shuffling through a stack of wanted dodgers to see if any of them sounded like this fellow Lazarus Bellwood.

James Lee Hogg was making certain that everyone in the saloon saw that he was wearing a badge. While James Lee had no idea that Sanborn had not secured him an appointment as a deputy U.S. marshal, he
had
progressed far enough in school to recognize a few simple words. He recognized the word “Town” etched right into the top of that shiny badge. In the middle was a star. Across the bottom it said “Marshal.” That was good enough for him, although he'd taken steps to scratch any reference to the word “Town” off the silver. In fact what had been written there was so completely obliterated, it couldn't have been deciphered by a university professor. But the word “Marshal” was as clear
as a street banner proclaiming an upcoming horse race. And did he ever play up that word.

He stepped boldly up to the bar and stared the bartender right in the face. “Do you remember me?”

“Uh, yessir,” came the response.

“Good, real good. You see this here badge I'm wearin'?”

“Uh, yessir.”

“I'll expect a helluva lot more respect from you than the last time.”

“Yessir, Marshal. What would you favor?”

“Whiskey and lots of it. Bring a bottle and I'll pour my own.”

While he waited for the bartender to put a bottle in front of him and secure a clean glass, he glanced around the saloon. There were only a couple of tables occupied. One had four cowboys playing poker while one of Melody's whores in a low-cut dress observed them. She had her hand on one cowboy's shoulder and every few minutes she'd shake him.

She chided him. “Donny, if you don't start playin' better'n that, you'll never get enough money for a poke.” The cowboy swallowed hard and gave her a hopeful smile. Cards were dealt. He picked up his hand and his shoulders drooped. He threw his cards on the table, got up, and left. The girl was left standing. She seemed to take it in stride as she turned her attention to the one with the biggest stack sitting in front of him. She reached over and ran her fingers through his hair.

“Ervin, it looks like you're about to earn a treat.”

The one called Ervin must not have agreed, for he stood up, scooped all his earnings into his hat, and left right behind the other cowboy. “Maybe another time, Lucy,” he called back over his shoulder.

James Lee looked at the girl called Lucy with a licentious grin.
I think I'm goin' to like this town
, he thought. He walked toward her. When she saw him approach, she gave him a coy smile and tilted her head.

“Lookin' for companionship, mister?”

“Yup. You and I can share this bottle and have us a grand old time,” James Lee said, taking her by the wrist and pulling her toward the staircase like she was a rag doll.

“Now hold on, mister, we haven't even discussed the price.”

“Don't care about the price. Just get your scrawny body a-movin' and let's get to it.”

The girl looked around the room. There weren't any others lining up to be with her, so she followed James Lee as he stomped upstairs.

Lucy and James Lee could be heard laughing for nearly an hour before James Lee's voice grew into something angry and vicious. Suddenly, the sounds of pleasure turned to terror.

Lucy's screams could then be heard throughout the saloon. Melody bolted from her room.

“What is it? What's going on in there? Lucy, are you all right?”

Just as she began pounding on the door to Lucy's crib, James Lee Hogg burst out with a nearly empty bottle in one hand and a bloody six-shooter in the other, roaring with a villainous laugh. He stumbled past Melody, brushing her aside so hard she was nearly knocked over the balcony railing. His drunken tirade could be heard above Lucy's pitiful moans for help as he stumbled from the saloon.

When Melody stepped inside the crib, she took one look at Lucy, put her hand to her mouth and started crying. The poor girl was lying facedown on her pillow in a bloom of crimson. Her screams had become little more than a whimper. It looked like James Lee had repeatedly hammered her with his pistol.

“Somebody go get Jack! Hurry!” Melody screamed, “He'll kill the son of a bitch!”

J
ack had accompanied Melody to Doc Winters's office. She'd had the bartender and a couple of cowboys who were drinking in the saloon help carry Lucy out of her crib, down the long stairs, and up the street to the whitewashed building that housed the town's only doctor. Jack couldn't tell if Melody's angst was because of Lucy or the gall of James Lee Hogg in disrupting the usually calm demeanor of her establishment. As she paced back and forth, wringing her hands and muttering one oath after another, Jack felt obliged to try calming her down.

“Melody, I'm certain Lucy will be all right. Sit in that chair over there and try to be patient. The doc'll let us know as soon as possible how things are goin'.”

“I won't be satisfied until that animal is blown to hell and whatever's left of his unholy body tossed out for the buzzards to dispose of.”

“You need to understand, I must talk to Lucy before I can go after Hogg. I have to know what happened. As soon
as we know something, I'll get Cotton and we'll take care of Hogg. Don't worry.”

“I want
you
to do it, Jack. I don't even want Cotton involved. This hits home for me, and you are my protector. It could have
been
me! Don't you see that?
You
do it!”

Jack bit his lip and turned away. He would have been more than happy to oblige Melody, but if he did it without Cotton's blessing, it could spell the end to his last chance at being a lawman. There were, after all, protocols that must be followed. He'd learned that lesson the hard way once before. He wandered over to the door. The three men who'd helped get Lucy to the doctor had disappeared back into the noisy, smoke-filled saloon, presumably to pick up where they'd left off with whatever game they'd been engrossed in when all the excitement began.

As he was deciding what to do, Jack heard the door to the back room open and Doc Winters stepped out. He was wiping his hands on a cloth and looking very grim. Melody rushed to him.

“How is she, Doc. Will she be all right?” Melody's voice shook as she looked to the doctor for hope. He dropped his gaze.

“It's too soon to tell, Melody. I've done all I can for her right now. All we can do now is wait and see.”

Jack reached out to take Melody by the shoulders, but she shrugged him off and hurried out of the office. Jack watched as she left, then turned back to Doc Winters.

“Jack, I have to tell you I've never seen anybody so badly injured. He must have hit her twenty times with the butt of a revolver. Her skull was damned near crushed. Plain and simple, she was
bludgeoned
. I wish I could do more to help her.”

“I'm sure you're doing everything you can, Doc. Thanks.”

Jack hurried from the doctor's office with mixed emotions. He wanted to see James Lee Hogg gasping for his last breath, but he dared not do it without Cotton knowing why. Melody's words flooded his brain, his inner conflict
growing by the second. Before stepping inside the jail, he stopped to glance up and down the street. James Lee Hogg was nowhere to be seen. As he went inside, Jack realized his hand was resting on the butt of his Remington and his thumb had cocked the hammer. Cotton was not in his office. Jack's thoughts of going about the situation in a professional manner were diminishing by the second. A fury was growing inside him almost to the point of exploding. He grabbed a shotgun off the rack, loaded it, and stormed out, heading to who knew where. Even Jack didn't know. He was driven by such a blinding anger, he had to keep moving. He thought about maybe stopping for a quick brandy, just to calm his nerves, but decided against anything that might slow his reflexes. Hogg had to be somewhere nearby and Jack was intent on finding him. His fear of losing his deputy's badge had been pushed back farther and farther in his mind as the image of that poor young girl, beaten to a bloody pulp, kept coming back, again and again. The fact that she was no more than a whore played no part in what drove him. She was a person, a young girl who'd done harm to no one, and now she lay unconscious at the hands of a man so full of evil it made Jack's heart hurt.