Killer's Draw: The Circuit Rider (20 page)

They trotted their horses through the main street of Big
River, on their way out of town.

“I’ll be so happy when we can leave this place once and for
all,” Bird said.

“Agreed,” Tower responded. “And I think the feeling is
mutual.”

On the horizon, storm clouds gathered and Tower saw a flash
of lightning to the west.

He was just about to put his horse to a gallop when he heard
the shout.

“Preacher!” a voice called out.

Tower turned in the saddle and saw the doctor walking
quickly toward them.

“Jesus Christ,” Bird said to Tower. “You just saw a doctor! My
God, you are in constant need of medical attention, aren’t you?”

“He’s probably looking for you,” Tower answered.

The doctor reached them and looked up at Tower.

“We’re in a bit of a hurry, here, doc,” Tower said. “Is this
important?”

“I need your help,” the old man said.

“Why aren’t you off at Parker’s ranch with the rest of
them?” Bird interjected.

The doctor shook his head. “I’m not one of them. I don’t get
involved in their shenanigans—not that I’ve ever been invited. The only time
I’m asked to do anything is afterward, when someone needs patching up.”

“So, what can we do for you?” Tower asked. He glanced up at
the sun and estimated how many hours of daylight they had left to get to
Parker’s ranch. The storm clouds bothered him as well. If it rained hard, it
would make tracking anyone much more difficult.

“It’s Frannie,” the doctor said. “I don’t know where she is
and I’m a little bit worried about her with everything that’s going on.”

Tower remembered the young female assistant who had helped
nurse him after the dynamite blast.

“How long has she been missing?”

“She didn’t show up yesterday or today.”

“Maybe she’s sick or something,” Bird offered.

“I don’t think so,” the doctor said. He looked a bit
sheepish.

Tower noticed the man’s expression. “What’s really bothering
you, doc? I’m getting real tired of everyone in this town keeping secrets.”

The old man looked back toward town, then up at Tower. “It’s
just that, I don’t know where she lives. She’s a very private person.”

“She didn’t tell you where she lives?” Tower asked. “It
never even came up in conversation?”

“It’s not that she didn’t tell me, it’s just that she was
vague. I didn’t think too much of it when she told me about living north of
town with some out-of-work schoolteachers. It wasn’t until she didn’t come in
that I realized I didn’t know exactly where she lived. And then I started to
wonder about why I never saw these schoolteachers she said she was living with.
I assumed maybe they lived closer to Harlan’s Crossing or something. But it
occurred to me that I never saw Frannie with anyone else.”

Something began tugging at Tower’s memory.

“How long has she worked for you?” Bird asked.

“She came by last spring and said she had just finished
nursing school. She never said where, though, and when I asked I think she
mentioned a hospital I’d never heard of. But she was nice, and very serious. No
matter what condition a patient was in, missing limbs, gutshot, Frannie never
flinched. The girl is fearless.”

“We’re heading out that way,” Tower said to the doctor. “We’ll
do what we can.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Bird and Tower turned back to the trail and put heels to
their horses.

“Last spring?” Bird asked.

Tower glanced over at her.

“Yes. That would have been right around the same time
Bertram Egans arrived in Big River.”

“She’s the one they’re looking for, aren’t they?” Bird asked
Tower as they rode toward the Parker spread.

“It’s an assumption right now,” he said. “No way to prove
it, but it feels right.”

They didn’t say anything as they climbed a rocky hill, then
made their way down the other side. At the bottom, the grass was thick with
standing water and mud. The horses slowed to a walk.

Bird took the opportunity to fortify herself with whiskey
and share her thoughts on the missing girl.

“I’ve got a theory,” Bird said to Tower.

“Let’s hear it.”

“Well, you remember that we had the idea this lady of ill repute
may have come West and continued her old life, or started a new one?”

“I recall that.”

“Well, what if—”

Before she could finish the thought, they climbed out of the
trough of thick mud to a rise in the trail where three men on horseback waited.

Instinctively, Bird moved away from Tower before she brought
the Appaloosa to a stop. More space between them made a wider target. The wider
the target, the harder to hit.

She studied the three men, all of whom wore flour sacks on
their heads, with holes cut out for the eyes and the mouth. To some, the sight
might look sinister; to Bird, it looked ridiculous.

She and Tower stopped when they were within speaking
distance.

“You know, there’s no point in wearing those silly masks—everyone
knows who you fools are,” Bird said.

“I suggest you two turn around and go back to town,” the one
in the middle said. “You’re about five seconds away from getting a bullet in
the head.”

The voice was instantly recognizable to Bird, even slightly
muffled by the cloth.

“I don’t think we can do that,” Tower said. “We’re looking
for someone and since we’re not wearing masks, it seems like we’ve got nothing
to hide. In other words, we’re on the right side of the law. Unlike you men.”

The men on the ends both laughed.

The one in the middle said, “Actually, we are the law. If
anyone is on the right side, it’s us. Not you. So, let me say it one last time.
Turn around, go back to town, or die out here, right now.”

“Why do I have a feeling as soon as we turn around you’ll
shoot us in the back?” Tower asked.

“I’d say you have a problem trusting people,” the one in the
middle said.

“The preacher here won’t say it, so I will,” Bird said. “All
three of you goddamned idiots can go straight to hell.”

The man on Bird’s right drew first. The move was so
laborious and unnatural that she almost felt bad shooting him out of the saddle.
The man on the far left was better with a gun, his motion was faster, but still
rushed and awkward. His pistol almost cleared leather before she put two
bullets into the shirt pocket over his left breast. He slid sideways out of his
saddle, landed on the ground with a foot still in the stirrup, and his horse
took off, dragging him behind.

The man in the middle who’d been doing the talking was so
slow to react that Bird had no idea what he was going to do—neither did he,
clearly.

Bird read his mind. He could turn and ride back the other way,
but his job was to stop anyone going in that direction. He would have to come
up with a lie about what happened, maybe claim they’d been ambushed.

Or he could ride off to either side and try to circle back
to Big River, then come up with a story.

She made his decision for him.

“You’ve got two choices, Sheriff Chesser.”

Bird saw his shoulders slump and he pulled off his sack.

“You can live or you can die,” she continued. “If you want
to live, drop your guns now. And since you like five seconds as a time frame,
I’ll give you that same amount. Do it now or die. It’s that simple.”

Chesser dropped his guns and held up his hands.

“Jesus, but you are a weak man, Chesser,” Bird said. “You
could have at least thrown some of your wooden fish at us or something. That
was a pretty pathetic display for a lawman.”

“Please, I just want to keep my job,” the sheriff said. “I
haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I’m sure it’s quite the opposite,” Tower said. “Why don’t
you help us out and tell us what’s going on.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” Chesser said.

“What, are you worried someone might hurt you?” Bird asked. “If
that’s the case, I suggest you take a good look at me and then look at your
friend down there kissing the dirt.”

“How many men are up at Parker’s place?”

“Too many to count,” Chesser said.

“And they’re looking for Frannie?” Tower asked.

“Frannie? Who the hell is Frannie?”

“The girl,” Tower said.

“Look, here’s what—”

Before Chesser could continue, his head exploded in a cloud
of pink mist. He fell off the horse to his right, indicating to Bird that the rifle
shot had come from Chesser’s left. She and Tower bent low and charged up the
remainder of the trail, aiming for the cover of a stand of rocks, expecting
more shots.

None came.

“Any guesses on who’s up there and would want to shoot
Chesser?” Tower asked, looking at the hill from which the rifleman most likely
took his shot.

“You met the man,” Bird said. “Who wouldn’t want to shoot
the jackass?”

“I’m upset someone else shot him,” Bird said. “I really
wanted to.”

“The question is,” Tower asked, “Why him and not us? You’re
the biggest threat. They would have started with you, then shot Chesser, then
me. And if it’s Parker’s men, why shoot Chesser at all?”

Bird drank some whiskey from the bottle and licked her lips.

“I think they’re gone,” she said.

“Maybe,” Tower said. He peeked his head over the rock, saw
no sign of movement, and ducked back.

Bird shoved the bottle back into her saddlebag and swung
into the saddle. Both she and Tower waited for a shot, but none came.

“That wasn’t one of Parker’s men. It was someone else.”

They rode toward the hill and circled it, but found no one
and no tracks.

“I tell you, we’re chasing a ghost,” Bird said.

“I’ve had that feeling all along,” Tower responded. “And I
don’t think we’re the only ones.”

They continued their course toward Joseph Parker’s ranch. Bird
figured they’d been on it for the last few miles.

It took them another hour of hard riding to reach the
building that constituted the heart of Parker’s spread. The sun had disappeared
behind a wall of thick black clouds, and a cool wind had picked up speed.

He took in the sight of the Parker ranch. The main house was
impressive, as he had expected. A sprawling log home with multiple wings and
gables, a wide porch that ran the width of the structure, and a host of flower
beds bordering the property.

Most striking to Tower, however, was the complete absence of
people, which made the ranch seem just as deserted as Big River. He had figured
there would be a meeting out here and it would be busy.

The corrals were empty, the doors to all of the barns were
closed. Even the cowboys’ bunkhouse was deserted, the doors and windows shut and
no sign of men or horses.

“They’re all out looking, aren’t they?” Bird asked.

“It would seem so.”

Tower rode directly to the main house, climbed the porch,
and knocked on the door. After several minutes without an answer, Tower knocked
again.

He was about to leave when the door creaked on its hinges
and an older black man dressed in a dark suit with a white shirt looked out at
Tower.

“May I help you?” he asked.

“I’m looking for Mr. Parker.”

“I’m sorry but he is not here.”

If that was true, Tower was surprised. He hadn’t figured
Joseph Parker to be the kind of man who would join the hunt. Tower pictured the
man seated in front of a roaring fire with a snifter of brandy in hand, waiting
for word from his men that the job was done.

“Do you know where he is?” Tower asked.

“No sir, I don’t.”

“Do you know when he’s expected to return?”

“No sir, I don’t.”

“What do you know?” Bird called out from behind Tower.

The black man didn’t answer.

Tower thanked him, and the door was shut firmly.

He went back to his horse and looked at Bird, who sat in the
saddle on her Appaloosa, a whiskey bottle resting on the pommel.

“Well, they’re not in Big River. And they’re not here,” he
said. “So, where are they?”

“They could be anywhere. This ranch is huge. Hundreds of men
could get lost on this land and we’d never find them.”

“Maybe we should wait here,” Tower said. “Looks like a storm
is moving in. I’m guessing Parker and his men are used to the comforts of
shelter. They’re not going to want to spend much time out there in the rain. I
mean look at this place. Who wouldn’t come racing back here once the weather
lets loose.”

“That’s an option. I just wonder how much time that girl has
out there alone, with every man in Big River hunting her.”

Tower leaned forward, patted his horse on the neck, and
looked up at the sky.

“I have an idea of what we can do.”

“Let’s hear it,” Bird said.

“Odds are the Rectifiers are going to find her.”

“I agree.”

“And if they do, we both know where she’s going to end up.”

Bird nodded, took a last pull from the whiskey bottle, and
slid it back into her saddlebag.

“Time to head to Killer’s Draw,” she said.

The Appaloosa realized it an instant before Bird.

Tower passed through a narrow gap between two slabs of
towering rock, with Bird right behind him. Just as she reached the other side
of the opening, her horse hesitated. It was the kind of movement that had no
natural cause and Bird immediately reached for her gun.

For the first time in her life, however, she was too slow.

The sound of a lever-action rifle being cocked is unmistakable,
and it reached Bird’s ears before her pistol moved a fraction.

“Don’t go for your guns, Bird,” a voice said. It was a soft,
feminine voice, eerily calm, almost friendly.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Bird said. She had no
intention of going for her guns. As good as she was, there was no time to draw,
turn, find the target above and behind her, and fire. The whole process, even
for her, would take too long. She’d be dead before she turned around.

She lifted her hands away from her pistols and she couldn’t
help but think of Chesser doing the exact same thing not too long ago. And look
how it turned out for him.

Ahead of her, Tower stopped his horse. He had heard
everything and decided not to move, or even turn around. Bird appreciated his
calm. Any sudden action on his part and she would be the first to die.

“That’s good,” the voice said. “But I need you to reach
down, draw your guns, and drop them on the ground next to you. The trail is
soft enough they won’t fire. I know you don’t like to keep an empty chamber.”

Bird thought,
How the hell did she know that
? And
then she did as she was told. Another first for her. This was turning out to be
a day with all kinds of new things. The pistols landed on the trail next to the
Appaloosa without going off.

“Now do the same thing with your rifle.”

Bird complied.

“Mr. Tower, stay right there,” the voice said. “Bird, walk
your horse forward very slowly until you’re next to the preacher, then turn
around.”

Again, Bird followed her instructions without fail.

She walked the Appaloosa up to Tower, then they both turned
to face the trail opening and rock ledge.

“Hello, Frannie,” Tower said.

The young woman who served as the doctor’s assistant sat
perched on the ledge, a rifle in her hands and a small smile on her face.

The Winchester in her hands did not waver, and it stayed aimed
directly at Bird’s chest. She also had a pistol jammed behind the belt that
went around her waist.

“Frannie, don’t do this,” Tower said.

Bird looked closely at the girl. What she saw was an
expression that had been worn by some of the most notorious gunfighters she’d ever
encountered. Men who had killed so many people that they’d lost something
inside. Something they knew they would never get back.

Bird would know. It was an expression she saw every time she
looked in the mirror.

“I already have done it,” the girl said. “I just have to
finish it.”

“What is your real name?” Bird asked.

“That’s a great question,” the girl said. “As far as I know,
my mother used to call me Paige.”

“Before she was murdered,” Tower said. “By the Rectifiers.”

The girl ignored him and held out a bundle of pegging
strips, long pieces of rawhide cowboys used for all sorts of different tasks. She
tossed them on the ground in front of Tower.

“The first thing I want to tell you is that I’m a crack shot
and there’s no way I could miss either one of you from this distance,” the girl
said. “The second thing is that I want you, preacher, to tie up Bird, and don’t
do a sloppy job of it, because I’m going to check.”

Tower and Bird both dismounted from their horses. Bird tried
to think of a way out of this.

“Killing them isn’t going to solve anything,” she said. “I’m
speaking from experience. Every time you kill someone—”

“Let me guess,” the girl interrupted. “Something inside you
dies, too? Is that what you were going to say?”

Bird didn’t respond, because that was exactly what she was
going to say.

“Even if that was true, which it isn’t, it’s too late now.” She
lifted her chin toward the pegging strips in front of Tower. “Tie her up,
quickly. I don’t have a lot of time.”

Bird turned her back and let Tower tie her hands. She sat
down against a rock and Tower tied her feet. Then he turned and faced the girl.

The girl climbed down from the rocks, all while keeping her
rifle on Bird and Tower. Bird noted that the plain cotton dress she’d worn at
the doctor’s office was now gone, replaced by denims, a dark shirt, and a
leather vest. Bird could see the pockets were bulging with extra ammunition.

“You’ve been planning this war for some time, haven’t you?”
Tower asked.

The girl walked past Bird’s pistols without picking them up.

“Turn around,” the girl said.

Tower did so, and Bird could tell he was tempted to make his
move right then and there, but he didn’t. It was the right decision. Bird could
tell this girl would step back, snatch out her gun, and drill Tower before he
could get his hands on her.

The girl tied Tower’s hands, then his feet, and nudged him
toward Bird.

“Stand up, Bird,” she said. Bird struggled to her feet, so
much so that the girl grabbed Bird by the elbow and helped her up. Paige
checked Bird’s wrists, seemed satisfied with Tower’s work, then guided Bird
back down next to Tower.

The girl walked back to Bird’s gun belt, picked it up, slung
it around her waist, and tied down the guns.

“What do you know, we’re the same size,” the girl said. She
opened the pistol’s gate and spun the cylinder, making sure each was loaded.

Bird knew they were.

The girl, Paige, looked at Bird and Tower.

“Someone will be along shortly, I’m sure. But I didn’t want
you to interfere with me finishing this. I’ll leave your horses about a mile up
the trail.”

“Don’t—” Tower started to say, but Paige was already walking
away. Bird could tell she wasn’t in the mood to listen to anyone.

The girl grabbed the reins of their horses, then walked
ahead, down the trail, and Bird heard her climb into a saddle, followed by the
sound of hooves pounding down the trail.

Bird leaned her head back against the rock and sighed.

“I think you liked tying me up,” she said.