Dead of Winter (3 page)

  "Here's this," she said.

  Ben came over to inspect the branch. After a few moments, he nodded to himself. "Something broke this off, and it wasn't no snowfall. Limb's too thick for that." Looking back up at the bird, he took an estimate of the height, then looked back toward the clearing. Smiling, he nodded again. "I reckon our killer was perched right up there, just waiting for those poor fools to wander too close."

  Cora crouched down, turning the broken branch this way and that. "Sure didn't leave much by way of sign. Ain't no claw marks or hairs or nothing."

  "Guess that means it wasn't no werewolf or hellhound," Ben said.

  "That's too bad," Cora said. "I was hoping for something easy. All them dog monsters is alike: line them up and put them down. Hellhounds is our specialty, besides. How many have we bagged in all?"

  "Half a dozen, I reckon."

  "Well, we ain't adding to that count today." Straightening up, Cora made to brush her gloves on her coat when a white blob splattered on the branch in front of her. Startled, she took a step backward. The crow let out a satisfied croak, which she answered with a glare. Her hand dropped to her revolver when the bird took wing in a flurry of black. Her heart sank a little as she watched it disappear into the trees.

  "We ain't killing nothing at this rate," Ben said, a smile spreading beneath his trim mustache. "You're too old and slow."

  Cora glared at him. "I've bagged me more than my share of critters, thank you kindly."

  "Guess we're lucky none of them was evil birds." He dodged the punch she aimed at him, his blue eyes sparkling.

  "Well, fine," Cora said, crossing her arms. "We got us an escaped crow and a broken branch with no good reason for being broken. Ain't much to go on, but we've made do with less." Her brown eyes swept over the clearing once more, then she nodded. "Let's get on back to town."

  Ben followed her back to the horses without a word. Our Lady whinnied as they approached, stretching her neck out for a pat. Cora obliged her and was rewarded with a snort of hot, moist air. She smiled, running her hand down the horse's mane before slipping the Winchester back into the saddle scabbard. She placed her boot in the stirrup and swung herself up. Our Lady tossed her head and nickered, but Cora didn't share her enthusiasm.

  "What do you reckon that prickly marshal will have to say when we tell him we ain't got nothing?" she asked.

  Ben sighed through his nose. "Five dollars says he'll run us out of town."

  "I'll make it ten."

  "Think we still ought to find this critter even if he does?"

  Cora shook her head. "He can rot along with his little town," she said. "He's already wasted a week of our time. We ought to head for Carson City or somewhere without all this damn snow."

  Cora pulled on the reins, turning Our Lady away from the clearing. They trotted through the trees until they reached the meadow. Squinting against the blinding glare of the sun, it took her a few moments to spot the mountain Marshal Duggan had pointed out to her. She finally picked it out, its peak thrusting toward the blue sky like a crooked gunsight. Mount Something-or-Other, her guide back to the silver boom town of Leadville, Colorado.

  Pulling her bandana over her nose, she lifted her boots on either side of Our Lady to give her a kick when she paused. Her breath warmed her face and neck, but she could feel a chill creeping into her fingers through her gloves. She glanced skyward and held her hands out beneath the sun. Clenching her fists a few times, she tried to drive the cold out, but it persisted. She could feel it flowing up toward her elbows. Her fingers became hard to move, a feeling which always gave her a slight panic. Cold fingers meant a slow draw and a slow trigger, and neither was good for staying alive.

  Ben rode up beside her. "What's wrong?"

  Cora held up her hand, and he fell silent. She pulled the Colt revolver from her belt and cocked the hammer. Turning her head, she looked back into the mess of evergreens. The sunlight still fell in patches through gaps in the branches. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but the chill in her blood kept moving. It was past her elbows now, working its way up to her shoulders. Uneasy, she lifted her gaze toward the treetops, sifting through the branches with her keen brown eyes. The blue sky winked at her from between clusters of green needles. Her fingers began to throb, the chill digging in toward her bones.

  A sudden breeze pulled at her hat and caused Our Lady to shift her weight. Cora felt the horse roll and pitch beneath her, but her gaze never left the trees. The branches were swaying with the wind, but something didn't look right. Deep in the maze of prickly limbs, she could see a gray shadow in the branches that lagged behind the motion of the trees. She couldn't make out a recognizable shape at this distance, but that hardly mattered. Maybe it was a bird or a confused bear, or maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, she blamed it for the unnatural chill in her veins.

  Forcing her cold arms into action, she leveled her revolver at the shadow. It was a long shot for a pistol, but she didn't want to waste time pulling out the Winchester. The pain in her fingers made it hard to hold the gun steady. She gripped her gun arm with her other hand and closed one eye, sighting down the barrel. The gunshot clapped her ears and rolled through the winter forest. Our Lady flinched at the noise. The kickback stung Cora's fingers, but she forced her thumb to pull the hammer back a second time.

  When the smoke cleared, the gray shape had vanished from the branch. Cora's eyes darted to the base of the tree. Nothing. Keeping her gun raised, she checked the surrounding trees. Seconds passed, but the only movement was the breeze through the branches. Her gun hand began tingling. Looking down, she flexed her fingers around the grip. They were still cold, but feeling was returning.

  "Did you see anything?" Ben asked.

  Cora replied with a shrug. She holstered her revolver, turned her back on the forest and punched Our Lady's sides with her heels. The mare sprang into motion. Ben spurred his own horse after her, giving the trees one last look as they rode across the meadow.

 

"Refresh my memory, marshal. What time did you and your deputy find that clearing again?"

  Mart Duggan looked up from the newspaper, annoyed to find this woman standing in his office. Where the hell was Sanchez? Why hadn't he stopped her from barging in like this? Looking past her into the front room of the station, he could see the deputy's boots propped up on the desk. If Victor wasn't asleep yet, he would be in the next fifteen minutes. Duggan cursed under his breath and looked back at the strange woman, his patience that much shorter.

  "Sometime in the morning," he answered.

  "I remember that part." Cora helped herself to the chair facing the marshal. "But how early or late was it?"

  Duggan folded the paper in a messy heap and leaned his elbows on the desk. "Early. No more than an hour past sunup."

  Cora's brow furrowed. "You're sure? It wasn't still night?"

  "Yes, I'm sure, Mrs Oglesby. Jack and I was following up on a report we got first thing that morning. Somebody had been out on a morning ride when they came across that spot and high-tailed it back to town to tell us about it."

  "Who was it that told you about it?"

  "Bill Hicks."

  "Who's Bill Hicks?"

  The marshal leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "Look, Mrs Oglesby, I ought to thank you for being so eager to look into this for me, but I ain't got time to discuss the townsfolk with you. I'm a busy man, and Leadville is a busy town. Until you got any real results for me, please leave me to my business."

  "Is that right?" Cora stomped her boots on the floor.

  "It is."

  "Well then, it just so happens that I may have caught me a glimpse of your culprit."

  The marshal picked up the newspaper. "What did he look like?"

  "Can't say, really," Cora replied. "It wasn't a very good glimpse."

  "So it wasn't the spook you thought it was, then?" Duggan said, not looking up.

  "I ain't the only one who thinks it's a spook. Your deputy Jack thinks the same as me."

  "I can't help hiring idiots from time to time."

  Cora snorted a laugh through her nose. "Seems to me you can't help being one, either."

  Duggan's boots slammed on the wooden floor as he stood to his feet, the newspaper scattering. He planted one hand on his desk and pointed the other in her face. "Now you listen to me! You and your husband is only here because Sheriff Barnes thinks you're worth a damn. If I had my way, you'd have till sundown to clear out of my town before I ran you out. It still ain't settled in my mind that you ain't drifters looking to turn a quick dollar before moving on to some other fool town. Lord help you if that's true. I won't stand to be made a fool of."

  Cora let him finish, a small grin playing at the corners of her mouth. "Ain't no fool I've ever met that needed help being made, marshal. I know you got to keep this town together, and that ain't no mean feat. Last time I was through here, why, you could have thrown a stone from one end of town to the other without hitting a single head. Now the only thing you got more of than saloons and brothels is the miners that use them."

  The marshal's finger sank to his desk as she talked, and she took that as her cue to stand. "As I said before, we're looking to make your life a bit easier," she said. "You're a right fine lawman, but you're green when it comes to handling any sort of monsters. Me and Ben happen to be experts in that area, and as experts, we're fixing to lend you our expertise. If you choose not to take it, that's your business. We'll be on our way, no hard feelings. You and that sleepy Mexican in the front room and all your other little deputies can have this town to yourselves."

  "But." She planted her own palms on the desk and leaned toward the marshal until their hats touched. "When that thing in the woods finishes picking them wolfers out of its teeth, you can bet your badge it'll come back for more. Creatures like that can't never get their fill. If it can't find any idiots like them wolfers out in the forest, it'll start prowling around your streets. Pretty soon, you'll hear stories of lonely miners disappearing between brothels. Maybe that
vaquero
out there won't show up one morning." She grinned at him, her brown eyes colder than the frost on the windows. "Could be your office here ends up looking like that clearing, only instead of you cleaning up some unlucky saps, it's your wife cleaning strips of you off the windows."

  Cora straightened up and rested her right hand on the hilt of her cavalry saber. "Of course, your monster could take a fancy to none of that. Maybe killing the wolfers was a one-time thing. I wouldn't bet an entire town on it, but it ain't my town. Ain't no piss in my soup if Leadville gets torn apart and dragged to hell bit by bit. Me and Ben can kill this thing for you, but not without your help. So it's your call, marshal."

  Duggan stood silent for a moment. This woman had a way of getting under his skin that few could manage. The hot-headed Leadville marshal was known for his temper, but it usually took longer than a few minutes to whip him up into a fury. A self-proclaimed woman spook hunter with enough lip to call him a fool in his own office was a new thing for him, and he hated every bit of it.

  Her words unsettled him down to his bones, though he would never admit it. In his four years as Leadville marshal, he'd jailed more than his fair share of ruffians, rowdies, and crooks. Most were drunk enough that a good smack on the head and a night behind bars would clear them up, but he'd settled a few high-profile troublemakers as well. He'd even faced down the mayor a time or two, refusing to let a rich friend of his walk free until the man sobered up. Duggan feared no man, but what this woman described wasn't a man, and he knew it. As much as he hated to even think it, he couldn't pistol-whip something that could shred two grown men in seconds and disappear without a trace. He could shoot it, maybe, but one of the wolfers had done the same thing and ended up dead anyway.

  He rose to his full height and looked across his desk at this strange bounty hunter. Duggan was not a tall man, and his eyes were level with hers. As she said, there was a chance that this thing would keep to the woods or even move elsewhere, but he didn't trust the notion. What he had seen in the clearing had been the work of something savage. He'd never heard of the animal that was satisfied with just a taste of human blood. Bears, wolves, and cougars all became regular man-killers once they'd whetted their appetites for a man's flesh. That thing out there wasn't any of those, but it was an animal just the same. Better than any of them, when it came right down to it. More dangerous. If this woman wanted to throw herself in its way, he shouldn't try to stop her. If she actually managed to kill the thing, so much the better.

  "All right," he said at last, extending his hand. "You got yourself a deal."

  Cora took his hand and shook it, another grin bearing the gap in her front teeth. "Glad to see you ain't a fool after all."

 

"That Duggan is a damned fool."

  A loud bang echoed in the hotel room as Cora slammed the door behind her. Ben was stretched out on the bed with a book in front of him, a kerosene lamp casting its dim light over his shoulder. He didn't look up or even flinch at the sound of the slamming door.

  "Why is that?" he asked.

  "I had to sit in his office and tell him that his own wife would be cleaning his guts off his windows before he could bring himself to help us out." Cora's boots thudded her indignation into the worn hide rug as she walked across the room. She set her pistol on the wooden table that stood between the room's two windows and rolled her head around on her shoulders. "Seems to me that a man with any kind of sense would be begging us to chase that thing off after seeing the clearing."