The Bandit Princess (4 page)

“Maybe,” Clint said. “I have a few questions.”

“Go ahead,” Parker said wearily.

“I want to talk about your Deputy Eads.”

“Oh, that,” Parker said. “That was a . . . whim, and it was a mistake. I’m going to let her serve out her time and then not rehire her.”

“Why?”

“Because, for Chrissake, she’s a woman.”

“But you put the badge on her.”

“I know I did,” Parker said. “I just said it was a mistake, didn’t I? Look, what’s your interest?”

“She found me at the saloon last night and asked to come with me after Pearl Starr and her . . . gang.”

“Oh, she did, did she? Well, that gives me grounds to fire her little ass—”

“No, no,” Clint said. “Don’t fire her. She’s got . . .”

“What? What has she got?”

“Spunk”

The judge made a face and said, “I hate spunk—in a woman.”

“Yeah, well, she’s got it,” Clint said.

“You ain’t considerin’ taking her with you, are you?” the judge asked.

“What if I said yes?”

“I’d say no!”

“And what if I said that’s the only way I’ll go?”

Parker frowned at Clint.

“You’re doing this just to get my goat, aren’t you?” he demanded. “I made a mistake and pinned a badge on a woman, and you’re going to make me pay for it, aren’t you?”

“Maybe I’m the one who’ll have to pay for it,” Clint suggested.

Parker studied him.

“You’re right,” he said then. “You take her with you and let her watch your back and you’re liable to end up dead.”

“Maybe I can make a good deputy out of her,” Clint said. “Then you’ll benefit.”

Parker rubbed his jaw.

“You’re making this sound like a can’t-lose situation for me.”

“Could be,” Clint said.

“But that all depends on whether or not you say yes in the first place,” Parker said.

“Yes, it does.”

Parker sat quietly for a few moments, then asked, “Well?” “Are you sure this girl is Belle Starr’s daughter?” Clint asked.

“I’m sure she’s calling herself Pearl Starr,” Parker said, “and the word I got from one of my deputies is that she’s the right age.”

“Do you have any other deputies in town right now?”

“No,” Parker said. “Well, I do have Deputy Marshal Eads.” Clint didn’t comment. They’d already talked about her. “All right, Judge,” Clint said, “I’ll take your assignment.”

“Excellent!” Parker said, slapping the desk with his hand. He opened the top drawer of his desk and took out a badge.

“No,” Clint said quickly, “I’m not going to be one of your deputies, Judge.”

“Why not?”

“Because then I work for you,” Clint said. “My way, I’m doing you a favor.”

The judge got it. He put the badge back in the drawer.

“Very well,” Parker said. “I owe you one.”

“Okay,” Clint said.

“When will you leave?”

“Today,” Clint said, “and I’ll be taking Eads with me.”

“Why?”

“Because that’ll give me some official standing,” Clint answered.

The judge thought about it for a few moments, then said, “That makes sense. But you might want to bring somebody else, to watch your back.”

“Who else would there be?” Clint asked. “You said you have no other marshals in town.”

“You have a lot of friends—”

“I’ll give it some thought,” Clint said. “I have to go and meet with Eads for breakfast. I told her I’d give her my answer this morning. Just do me a favor—tell me what you know about Pearl and her gang right now. How many? Where am I likely to find them? Who the others in the gang might be?”

“I can do that briefly,” the judge said.

Clint sat there while Judge Parker went over what he knew about the Pearl Starr gang. Clint took it all in without any questions. He didn’t speak until the judge was done.

“Now tell me one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“How many people have they killed?”

“Four that I know of,” the judge said. “I want them dead or alive.”

“And Pearl? Has she killed anyone herself?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Judge Parker said. “They’re all guilty.”

“I just want to know if she’s ever been seen pulling the trigger herself.”

“Once that I know of,” the judge said. “I have a witness who saw her kill a bank teller.”

Clint had been hoping the answer was going to be no.

“Here,” the judge said. He opened a different drawer and took out an envelope.

“What’s that?”

“Expense money.”

Clint left the envelope on the table.

“If I take that, it doesn’t mean I work for you, or the government.”

“No, you’re safe,” Parker said. “If it makes you feel better, it’s my own money.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t take the badge,” Parker said. “Take the money. It doesn’t reduce my debt to you.”

Satisfied, Clint stood up and took the money.

“We’ll leave by noon,” Clint said. “It’ll take that long to get us outfitted.”

“Will you need a packhorse?”

“No,” Clint said, “when I’m tracking, I travel light. I don’t need a packhorse weighing me down.”

He started to leave the room, then turned and waved the envelope at the judge.

“I really hate being predictable.”

“Then think of it as me knowing I could count on you,” Judge Parker said.

Clint nodded, and went out the door.

 

 

 

Deputy Marshal Alice Eads was waiting in the hotel dining room when Clint arrived. There was nothing on the table in front of her.

“You could have started with some coffee,” he said as he sat.

“I didn’t want to be rude.”

“You’re a very civilized lady, Alice,” Clint said. “You’re going to have to leave it in town when we get out on the trail.”

“I’ll be able to—” She stopped short and stared at Clint. “You mean we’re goin’?” she asked. “I mean, I’m goin’?”

“Yes,” Clint said, “we’re both going.”

“Omigod.” She stood up. “You cleared it with the judge?”

“Yes,” Clint said, “you’re assigned to me.”

“I have to get ready!”

“Sit down and have breakfast,” Clint said. “We’ll be traveling light, and we won’t be having many hot meals, so enjoy this one while you can.”

“But I have to—”

“We’re both going to get ready after this,” Clint said. “Sit!”

She sat.

“When are we leaving?” she asked.

“Around noon,” he said. “After breakfast you get yourself and your horse ready. That’s all you have to do. I’ll do the rest.”

“The rest?”

“I’ll get us outfitted,” Clint said. The waiter came over, and he ordered steak and eggs for the two of them, and coffee as soon as possible.

“You just make sure your guns are clean and ready,” he went on, “and your horse is sound, because we’re going to be putting a lot of miles on him.”

“Her,” she said. “My horse is a mare.”

“Good,” Clint said, “that’s what this trip will need, a good, sound mare.”

“I can’t believe this,” she said. “I’m actually going after outlaws, tracking them into Indian Territory.”

“You’re going to have to keep your promise to watch my back,” Clint said.

“I will, I swear.”

“If you don’t,” Clint said, “you’ll be out there all alone.”

She stared at him as if she’d never considered that possibility. At that point the coffee came, followed soon by breakfast.

 

 

 

After breakfast they split up. Clint went to the general store, used some of Judge Parker’s money to buy supplies. Beef jerky, beans, coffee, extra bullets, only enough supplies to fit into two gunny sacks, one each to hang from their saddlehorns. Clint had long ago learned how to travel light when tracking someone.

He took the supplies with him to his hotel, where he retrieved his saddlebags and rifle, then stopped at the front desk to check out.

“But I’ve already been instructed to keep your room for you, sir.”

“By who?”

“My boss, and he heard it from Judge Parker.”

“Okay, fine,” Clint said. “Thanks.”

He left the hotel, headed for the livery stable. When he got there, he found Alive Eads saddling her horse.

“Here,” he said, tossing her a sack. “Tie that to your saddle.”

“What is it?”

“Half our supplies.”

He saddled Eclipse quickly, tied his sack to the saddle. They walked their horses outside.

“Are we going into Indian Territory?” she asked hopefully.

“Yes, Canadian River area. That’s where she was last seen. It’s where her mother and father spent a lot of their time. They had a thousand acres near a town called Briartown. Also, a town called Whitfield across the river from there. So, that’s where we’re starting. Where we might end up, I don’t know.”

“Wherever it is, we’ll get the job done!” Alice said eagerly.

“Yes, we will,” Clint said, “but carefully. I don’t know exactly how many men Pearl has, but it’s at least four or five. When we find them, we’re not going to rush in. We’re going to watch them for a while, and wait for the right moment.”

“I understand.”

“And you won’t even draw your gun unless I tell you to.”

“Wait,” she said. “Where’s your badge?”

“I don’t have one.”

“The judge didn’t deputize you?”

“No,” I said. “I’m doing this as a favor to him.” And for Belle, he thought.

“Then you have no official standing?”

He smiled.

“I have you, and your badge.”

She looked confused.

“But doesn’t that mean I should be in charge?”

He stared at her.

“Alice . . .”

“I mean, I’m just saying . . . technically speaking.”

“But we’re not technically speaking, we’re speaking realistically. Understand?”

Looking demure, she said, “I understand.”

“When the time comes to show your badge,” he said, “you can act like you’re in charge. And when it comes time to make an arrest, you’ll do it.”

She nodded.

“But we also have to remember, the judge wants them dead or alive.”

“I know.”

“So you may have to kill someone. Are you ready for that?”

“Yes, I am.”

“No doubt?”

“Well, of course I have doubts—”

Clint stopped short of mounting Eclipse and turned to face the deputy marshal.

“You can’t have any doubts, Alice,” he said. “Not when I’m counting on you to watch my back.”

“Wait, wait,” she said, “I didn’t mean I had my doubts about being able to shoot someone. When the time comes, don’t worry, I’ll do my job. I just meant that I have doubts about how I’ll feel afterward. That’s something I’ll have to come to terms with if I’m going to do this job.”

“Just don’t hesitate, Alice,” Clint said. “Your hesitation could cost us both our lives. Let’s mount up.”

They climbed up on their horses and rode out of Fort Smith.

“What’s our first stop?” she asked.

“Briartown,” he said, “located in a bend of the Canadian River. It’s Belle Starr country, so maybe somebody there will be able to tell us something.”

“And what about Belle Starr?” Deputy Eads asked. “She must know something about her daughter. Do we know where she is?”

“We don’t,” Clint said, “but our main objective is not Belle Starr, it’s Pearl.”

 

 

 

Pearl Starr stared out at the rushing Canadian River, standing hipshot, her hand on her Peacemaker. From behind her she heard the sound of male voices arguing. She had five men in her gang, five men who were very good at what they did, as long as they listened to her. None of them had the brains to run the outfit, but the five of them combined—under her direction—were the best gang she could have put together.

Pearl had everything her mother had—brains, femininity, heart—and to add to all of that, she had her youth.

The twenty-year-old self-proclaimed “Bandit Princess” turned and walked back to the small two-room house. Erected on either side of the house were the tents that the men used. The house was hers alone.

The five men were always arguing among themselves. It was amazing that, without her, they could not function. Their egos simply got in the way, and none of them could think straight enough to lead.

“Randy!”

Randy Green came running when Pearl called. He was eight years older, but totally subservient to his boss, as he was in love with her.

“Pearl?”

“What are they fighting about now?” she asked.

“There’s only one bottle of whiskey left in camp,” Randy said. “Del and Tate both want it.”

“Then tell them both to go to Whitfield and get some more—as well as more supplies. They know what we need.”

“Okay.”

“Just the two of them, Randy,” she said. “And tell them to stay out of trouble.”

“I will.”

“Where’s Hunter?”

If anyone was Pearl’s second in command, it was Hunter Holcomb, the only one of the gang who was over thirty. He was the most experienced of them all.

“He went fishing for dinner,” Randy said.

“And Dave?”

“He’s doing the laundry.”

“Good. I’m running out of unmentionables.”

Randy didn’t know what to say to that.

“Who’s cooking tonight?” she asked.

“I am.”

“Well, get started.”

“But . . . Hunter’s not back with the fish.”

“So start making the vegetables,” she said. “Do I have to tell you everything?”

“Sorry,” Randy said. “I’ll get on it.”