Name On The Bullet - Edge Series 6 (4 page)

BOOK: Name On The Bullet - Edge Series 6
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‘Hey, what do we have here, boys?’

‘I seen them already, Gene,’ O’Brian murmured grimly.

By then they had been riding at the easy pace for maybe half an hour in the failing light of late afternoon closing with evening. The gathering gloom and the increasing cold more pronounced under the canopy of the trees through which little of the failing sunlight penetrated to give even an impression of comforting warmth. The others halted their mounts and looked in the direction the lawman pointed: across a broad, lushly grassed natural clearing in the timber to the left of the trail. Where two bay geldings were hitched to a clump of brush, the tethers long enough to allow the animals to graze over a wide area. Both were still saddled, but only one was burdened with a bedroll.

‘They look to me like the same – ‘ O’Brian began, tense with nervous anticipation that added a croak to his voice. He spat tobacco juice to the side.

Mann drew his revolver slowly, tugged on his reins to turn his mount to face across the clearing and interrupted the blacksmith in much the same tone: ‘Where’d you figure they went to?’

Edge dismounted first, next Hooper, the lawman sliding a Winchester from out of the boot. He pumped the action as he moved cautiously away from his horse and set his feet down lightly as he started across the open ground.

‘Gene, this could be a sneaky trap!’ Costigan warned and snapped his head from side to side: screwed up his small eyes as he tried to penetrate the barrier of tree trunks and high brush beyond the tethered horses.

‘What do you think, Edge?’ O’Brian licked his thick lips and seemed stuck fast in his saddle.

‘I can read sign sometimes, feller: never other people’s minds. But Costigan’s right, marshal. There’s no sense in taking risks you don’t need to.’

He slid the rifle out of the boot and led his own and the lawman’s mount to a clump of brush to the right of the clearing. Hitched the animals and started to skirt the open space so he was always close to some kind of cover if violence erupted from within the timber. Costigan did the same as Edge but when O’Brian and Mann made to do likewise, Edge signalled for them to circle around the other side of the clearing. The booted feet of the five men made little noise and the entire expanse of timber on all sides was totally silent except for the tearing sounds made by the horses as they grazed contentedly on the grass. Then a dry twig snapped: some distance off in the trees. Ahead of where the men came to an abrupt halt and fixed their attention upon the area of impenetrable undergrowth from which the isolated sound originated. Nobody moved for stretched seconds while the horses continued to forage undisturbed by the sound that had startled the men. Then, as they all moved cautiously forward again, levelled revolvers and rifles gripped in palms that were greasy with sweat despite the chill air, a woman laughed. And they froze.

‘What the – ‘ O’Brian began thickly and the wad of tobacco was ejected forcefully from the side of his mouth.

Edge rasped: ‘Wait and watch.’

Now a man laughed, close to where the woman had signalled her position. And another, more substantial twig cracked under the foot of one of the couple. Then a moment later the man yelled in high excitement:

‘YIPPPEEE!’

The woman responded with a giggle, then exclaimed: ‘Well, Vic, it sure sounds like you had yourself a real good time back there and no mistake!’

‘It wasn’t no mistake, Hannie. Best way there is of celebrating what we got to celebrate in my opinion. You can bet your sweet ass on that!’

‘No chance,’ she countered and giggled. ‘My ass ain’t fit to be put to any kind of use for quite awhile after what it’s been through, honey.’

The couple, each with a long black coat caped over their shoulders, stepped out into the clearing, arms about each other and joined at the lips in a kiss. Hooper commanded: ‘Freeze, you pair of lousy, no account killers!’

They were abruptly rooted to the spot, still locked in the embrace after they tore their mouths apart. And snapped their heads around to stare in horror at the line of five grimfaced men who aimed rifles and revolvers at them, fingers curled to the triggers and thumbs hooked to hammers.

‘Fun’s over,’ Costigan snarled.

‘Same as your lives are!’ O’Brian threatened, his voice tremulous with suppressed high emotion.

‘Hold it, blacksmith!’ Edge ordered coldly as he kept his Winchester levelled at the shocked couple but scowled at the glowering O’Brian who was clearly just a moment away from firing the sixgun he held in a rock steady grip.

‘Yeah, Arnie!’ Mann whined. ‘We can’t just shoot them down like coyotes.’ He clenched his wide-spaced teeth, maybe to keep them from chattering with nervousness. Costigan seemed reluctant to speak, maybe afraid of what his voice would sound like. O’Brian continued in the same unsteady tone, his cold-eyed stare fixed on the embracing couple: ‘Why not? That’s exactly what they did to Wendell Quaid, damnit! And maybe they would’ve run down a couple of little kids if one of them hadn’t – ‘

‘We’re going to do this the lawful way!’ Hooper’s tone was as ice cold as the light in the squinting eyes of the almost out of control blacksmith. ‘And anyone who don’t abide by that will answer to me!’

‘What the hell is this all about?’ The good looking green-eyed blonde managed to keep her tone even and her full lips from trembling as she clung tightly to the man at her side.

‘What’s the goddamn difference?’ O’Brian looked toward Hooper and Edge then delved for a plug of tobacco and bit off a piece. ‘What’s it matter if they get what they got coming to them here or back in town: or after some half ass trial in a court at the county seat?

They’re sure gonna die for what they did to Wendell and I can’t see no point in not getting it over and done with quick.’

‘Vic?’ The woman’s lips quivered now as her wide-eyed gaze shifted from the line of five men in front of her to the one at her side.

‘Easy, honey.’ He released the bedroll he carried and patted her hand as he gently extricated himself from her forceful grip. ‘This here’s a posse, looks like, even if none of them is wearing a badge.’

‘Frigging right that’s what it is!’ Costigan grinned, clearly pleased by how tough he sounded.

‘A posse that one of them is itching to turn into a lynch mob,’ Vic went on in the same even tone, only the ashen pallor of his face that contrasted so starkly with his all black clothes suggesting he was afraid.

‘You can ignore that crazy talk,’ Hooper assured. ‘I’m the Brogan Falls marshal and these guys are my volunteer deputies. If you want to see badges, I’ll show you them when we get back to town. When folks get invited to a wedding around here they don’t expect to have to – ‘

Vic ignored Hooper and pressed on, addressing the woman: ‘Whatever, they don’t know they’ve got the wrong people for a killing, honey. Now look, you guys, I’ll admit I – ‘

‘Save your confession for the judge when you get to court!’ Hooper cut back in. ‘It seems real clear to me that you and her are the pair who rode into Brogan Falls and killed Wendell Quaid outside the church. And my deputies and me are gonna take you back to town and lock you up for doing that. Fix for a legal trial to be held just as soon as that can be arranged.’

‘Look, I was going to tell you that I admit I – ‘

‘The marshal told you to save it!’ Costigan snarled.

Vic sighed his resignation. He was forty years old with dark hair that had started to grey but still had a way to go before most of the original colour faded. His narrow, straight moustache was still solid black. Light blue eyes shone from out of a pale complexion that was maybe not entirely due to fear: perhaps signalled he had not spent long in the open recently. Once perhaps, his six feet tall frame had been well built, but sickness or hunger had extracted a toll and he looked close to emaciated. After he recovered from being so badly startled so soon after taking his pleasure with the woman he had shown a degree of self-control that suggested he had been in tight situations before and learned how to face them calmly.

‘Look, there ain’t any purpose to be served by us standing out here trading words that’ll get nobody nowhere!’ Hooper said wearily. ‘You’re both under arrest and in my custody. What’s you name, mister? Vic what?’

‘Munro. And this is Miss Hannah Foster, a good friend of mine.’

‘She’s a real good friend from what we heard when we – ‘ Mann started, a broad grin on his soft skinned, pale face.

Hooper snapped: ‘Shut up, Earl!’

‘Look, whatever happened in Brogan Falls didn’t have a thing to do with Hannah and me!’ Munro raked his bleak eyed gaze along the line of men with aimed guns. ‘But maybe we saw the pair of killers you’re looking for. Right, Hannie? Just a little while ago when – ‘

‘Are you packing a gun, mister?’ Hooper demanded.

Munro gestured toward the two tethered horses that had first alerted the posse to the presence of the couple in the trees beyond the clearing. ‘You can see my gunbelt hung on the saddle, mister. And my rifle’s in the bucket.’

‘Reckon there was just one kinda weapon he needed for what him and her were getting up to,’ Mann giggled.

‘You’ve got a sewer for a mind,’ the woman accused through a sneer.

‘Shut up, Earl!’ Hooper repeated tensely. ‘You two killers . . . I want you both to step forward and apart a couple of paces. And don’t you try anything tricky while we check you over for concealed weapons. Arnie, go get the gunbelt and the rifle off this guy’s horse and stow them on mine.’

‘Vic?’ the woman pleaded helplessly.

‘Don’t worry, honey,’ Munro placated evenly as he did as he was instructed and broke away from her. ‘I’ll see to it no harm comes to you on account of the stupid mistakes these idiots are making.’

She made to go with him, but he shook his head and showed her a sullen expression she had obviously seen before: and she knew not to argue with him in this frame of mind. Then she fixed Mann with a level stare that spoke volumes about her bad feelings for the tall, skinny, pale-faced storekeeper with the widely spaced teeth. Confined herself to softly snarling the warning: ‘But if that creep tries to lay a hand on me, hunting for a gun and looking to cop a feel I’m ready to die here and now for what I’ll do to the bastard!’

‘Edge, you search her.’ Hooper gestured with his revolver toward the woman. ‘And, Mike – you go check Munro.’

Mann spat a stream of saliva to the ground as the two designated men approached the couple. Costigan circled wide to go behind Munro and tried nervously and inexpertly to keep him covered with the Colt while he patted him down in the areas where a small pistol or a knife could be concealed. Edge halted a pace in front of the woman as she adopted a defiant posture: feet apart and hands clenched into fists that she pressed hard to her hips. She was perhaps thirty-five, maybe forty, but although the flush of youth had obviously left her classically oval shaped face, the set of her large eyes, finely shaped nose, full lips and prominent cheekbones contributed to a certain degree of handsomeness if not beauty. Her body, clothed in dark coloured shirt, vest and pants under the draped coat was a little thick at the hips, but she had a provocative torso that was still pertly angular rather than heavily rounded by the forces of gravity.

‘I’m not so sure you’re any damn better than that ugly bastard with just one dirty thing on his dirty mind!’ she challenged.

‘Me, I’m real sure you’re not my type, lady. Like for you to get rid of the coat then turn around.

She slowly shed her coat as she put her back toward him and then he signalled with his free hand as he said:

‘All the way around.’

She did this and there was an intrigued gaze in her green eyes when she peered into his ice cold, unblinking blue ones again.

He shrugged as he told her: ‘It’s called going through the motions. The way you and Munro are such close friends, it figures you didn’t feel any need to have a weapon to defend your honour with over in the trees.’

‘It’s good to know one of you part-time half-ass lawmen can see sense,’ Munro drawled as Costigan finished patting him down. ‘Now, if you’ll listen to what we can tell you about – ‘

‘It’s too damn cold to stand around out here!’ Hooper broke in. ‘The two of you get mounted up. And no tricks: because if either one of you tries to make a run for it, both of you’ll get the kind of rough justice Arnie wanted to dish out awhile back.’

The woman’s somehow attractive face was suddenly made ugly by a challenging sneer as she stooped to snatch up her coat and asked Edge: ‘You like any better what you saw of the back of me?’

He signalled for her to follow Munro toward the pair of tethered horses and answered:

‘I saw for sure that you’ve got long hair, lady.’

Mann sniggered. ‘You especially like for a woman to have long hair, Edge?’

‘Here and now I’d feel easier if Miss Foster’s was shorter, feller.’

‘How you like your women to look don’t make a hoot of frigging difference, mister!’

O’Brian snarled.

Hannah Foster halted beside Munro at the horses, took a firm grip on his arm and shared a quizzical frown between him and Edge.

Munro finished fixing his bedroll to his saddle and asked with the trace of a smile: ‘Are you saying what I think you are, mister?’

‘Edge, you only got a quick look, for God’s sake!’ Hooper complained. ‘You can’t be that sure how long the woman’s hair was. You two get mounted like I told you, damnit!’

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