Ambush Valley (19 page)

The mule rider had emptied his pistol with wild shots taken at Chet. No need to waste any ammo on him until he had a chance to stop him. He must have found a cliff down there. He wheeled the mule around and fled uphill off to the left of Chet.

He jerked out the rifle and when the mule came into a clear shot, he shot him. The mule went down in a pile, throwing his rider. Three more of the men on their horses rode to the scene.

Chet stepped down. “I didn't want to shoot that mule but I didn't want him to get away.”

He caught the moaning man by his shirt collar and jerked him to his knees. “What's your name?”

“Who? Who are you? Why you trying to kill me? I ain't done nothing!”

“Just killed two old settlers and stole their money, huh?” He stuck the pistol muzzle to his cheek and cocked the hammer. “How is your memory now?”

“Not me. Not me. I believe I broke my arm.”

“You boys take him up there. My trigger finger is too itchy.”

Another of the men stripped the saddle and bridle off the mule and piled them on his own saddle to take them up to camp. Chet thanked him.

Gates was in charge. The shooter was dead. The bald man had his pants up. No doubt he was not constipated now. They had his hands tied behind his back.

“His name is Tremble,” Gates said. He had it written in his logbook. “Garrison Tremble. That dead man is called John Smith. That's an alias.”

The man who shoved the mule rider in the circle said, “He says his is Shaver. Nick Shaver lived in Tombstone last.”

“He should have stayed there,” Chet said. “Is there any water close?”

“There's a small stream over there.” One of the men who had gone east pointed in that direction.

“Some of you men water the horses. Times, do you recall anything about this road?”

“It goes west to the Verde Valley eventually is all I can say.”

They all laughed. “It will damn sure be easier than the way we came. Where is the money they stole?”

Chet looked around for any sign.

“Stole?” Shaver asked. He laughed. “We ain't got no money.”

“There was several thousand dollars taken from those people in your robbery,”

“That shows you got the wrong guys, we ain't got a cent on us.”

Chet stopped. He eyed the prisoner holding his broken arm. Had they stashed it on the trail? He couldn't recall many places that they stopped and could have ditched it.

“We ain't found any money in their things.” One of the posse members turned up his hands. “It sure isn't here.”

“That was why you killed them. Where is it?”

“I swear to God we never took any money from anyone.”

Gates moved in close and whispered. “What if they didn't steal the money?”

“I'm not sure. But these three murdered that couple. The place did look torn up.”

“I don't think they're lying.”

“We'll let Sims figure it out. They did kill them. There is dried blood all over Tremble's shirt and pants. He cut their throats, I can swear to that.”

“Is the money on that back trail?”

“No. There is an answer to this and we'll figure it out. Wrap the dead man in a blanket. Those two can ride double. We're burning daylight.”

The other men were coming back with the horses they'd watered. They cinched up and rode for Camp Verde. They reached the Quarter Circle Z close to midnight. The crew and women fell out to help. The ranch hands rubbed down their horses, gave them their beds to sleep in after a hasty meal was thrown together, and then guarded their prisoners.

After the shock was over, Susie and May gathered with Chet at the table in the house.

“These men murdered them to rob them?”

“They said he had three thousand dollars that is gone. I thought all the way that they'd have the money. But they didn't have a penny on them.”

“Maybe they didn't kill them?”

“No, they killed them and we never found the money. Tremble had dried blood all over him and the dead man did too. That was Artman blood on those two.”

“What will you do next?”

“Take them to jail and let Sims worry about them.”

“And you're sure you got the killers?” Susie asked.

“Positive. The only screwy thing is they didn't get the money. Those three went to rob them and not leave any witness. I figure they tortured both of them and they never told them where it was at.”

“Who knew then?”

“I've been asking myself that question for twenty-four hours.”

“Sleep a few hours. You look worn out.” Susie nodded to him.

“Thanks. Get me up in a few hours. I need to go see Marge. She's probably worried to death.”

“No, she's simply lonesome without you. You fill some big holes in our lives too.”

He shook his head. Wished he had time for a bath, but the hell with it, he needed some sleep. It could not have been any time till May shook him.

“I'm coming,” he croaked, sat up, and pulled on his boots.

“Tell Gates to stop and get me at her place,” he told Tom who was already up and at the chuck tent.

“I can do that.”

One of the hands caught his roan he called Big Man. He brought him around for Chet, saddled. He finished his coffee and some of the raisin rice pudding that Hoot fed him.

“How are the Herefords?” he asked Tom.

“Good, I got a couple of the boys keeping them up at the Perkins place. There's lots of grass up there and it's easy for them to get fat. Not near as tough as some range country we use.”

“Short as this country is on good bulls, don't cut them. I think we can sell all those young bulls and make more money.”

Tom agreed. “I've already been hit up for some.”

“I knew we could make some money with them. Good, I think Bo has bought the ranch up there. I've got him on the sober train.”

Tom laughed. “Ride easy. We don't want anything to happen to you.”

Over two hours later, he reached Marge's front porch and dismounted. His face was so whiskered, he hated to even kiss her.

She must have been watching for him. Monica came out on the porch and, hands on her hips, tried to chew him out, laughing hard.

“Hold him down,” Marge shouted from inside. “I've got the rope.”

He caught her by the waist and kissed her when she rushed outside.

“I'm bristled like a boar hog.”

“Don't worry. I love you. Did you?”

“We did capture the three men. Let's get inside. The posse will come by soon and I want to spend a few minutes with both of you before I go turn them in.”

“Is there something wrong?” Marge asked, swinging on his arm.

“Yes. They did not have any of the stolen money.”

“Did they hide it?”

“They had no time for that. We tracked them to where they were camped. We understood they took several thousand dollars from the Artmans.”

“Where is it?”

“It still may be well hid for one thing. I really believe those three killed the couple and fled empty-handed.”

“Are you going to look for it?”

He shrugged. “That's Sims's job. He will probably tell me to go mind my own business. I'll be shocked if he wants one more thing from me.”

“One of them was shot dead when he returned fire at us. I know little about him. There is a big bald guy who I suspect cut their throats. He had dried blood all over him. Then the other one is a cocky mule rider who broke his arm when he tried to run off on his mule. They were some simple felons who heard about the Artmans having lots of money hid out.”

“And you figured all that out riding them down?” Marge asked, and kissed him.

Her cook served him the breakfast she'd whipped up.

“Jesus is fine,” he said to reassure her, ready to eat. “He did very well as a supplier and cook.”

“You made the ranch last night?”

“Midnight. I had to sleep a few hours.”

“You didn't have to come rushing back to me.”

“Oh, yes I had to. I missed you.”

She threw her arms around his neck. “That was sweet.”

“No, simply what I needed.” He finished his coffee and thanked Monica with a wink for her food. “I hear the posse coming. I'll be back in a few hours.”

“We'll have something special for supper,” Monica promised.

“Ah, I'm just glad to be back.” He kissed his wife and headed for the front door.

 

 

At the courthouse, the posse dismounted. The two prisoners were in the back of a ranch buckboard, the dead man tied over a horse. Two deputies came out of the jail armed with shotguns. Chet had no idea why. Sims strolled out and frowned.

Gates looked at him and when he did not move, he pushed his horse in. “These are the men killed the Artmans.”

Sims nodded. “What evidence do you have?”

Chet couldn't stand it any longer. He got off his horse. “Get down here, Sims. Get that Tremble over here.”

He jerked the big man up in front of the sheriff. “See all this dried blood. That is Artman blood. Get that corpse off the horse—”

Sims held up his hands and turned to a deputy. “Get him inside and strip off his clothes. Take the others on along. What's wrong with his arm?”

“He broke it when he fell off his mule, trying to escape,” Chet said in his face.

Sims ignored him. “Get all their clothes for evidence.”

“You want to know what I think, Sims?”—hands on his hips, and breathing hard—“This posse should have hung these worthless pieces of humanity up there in the wilderness.”

Still ignoring Chet, Sims asked, “Where is the loot?”

“They never found it.”

“That's your case, Chet Byrnes.”

“No, it is either hidden so well or someone knew where it was and stole it after the killers rode off.”

“That's—”

Times rode in. “Hold up, sheriff. Chet Byrnes has this all figured out. We spent a day with those killers. They couldn't find it. That was the only true thing we believed.”

“If I need your testimony, I'll serve you with a warrant.”

“No,” Gates said. “Yavapai County needs a new law enforcement officer, Sims.”

The posse and many of the onlookers gathered shouted, “Yes!”

“Since the sheriff doesn't care we saved this county hundreds of dollars apprehending these felons who killed two old people, we do!”

Chet sat his Big Man. He was somewhat embarrassed since everyone was looking at him. And shouting, “Tell him, Chet.” He pushed the horse in and held his hands up to get them quieted. “Sheriff Sims, if you need anybody to testify I am certain they will. I expect you will find that money, or who took it.”

Sims stood on the steps, chest out. “I want all of you to disperse. I consider this gathering a breach of the peace in this city.”

Chet closed his eyes in disbelief. Calling a citizen posse who brought in killers a breach of the peace may have signed the man's own resignation. He turned Big Man and went over to hitch him at the rack in front of the Palace. Word would travel fast. There would be a lot of whiskey and beer poured in glasses and mugs for the uproar only beginning to explode in this city.

A reporter from the
Miner
paper was in the barroom quicker than a twitch of a cat's whiskers. He had a pad and pencil and scribbled down notes. Chet was seated at a table in the back and Jane brought him a cup of coffee.

“What has happened?” she asked, seeing the customers filing in.

“The sheriff threatened the posse who brought in those killers with disturbing the peace.”

She looked in disbelief at him. “Really?”

“I couldn't believe he did that either.”

“He must not want to be sheriff anymore. I've got to know, how is your sober party going?”

“I think he's bought me the ranch I wanted.”

“When is this guard business over?”

“I can get you inside to see him.”

“Not yet, I want him to come to me.”

“I don't blame you.”

She winked and left him.

Gates joined him, looking back to see who else was coming in the flow of customers moving inside.

“Should we go down there and find the damn money?”

Chet said, “I believe you can go turn it upside down. The money is gone.”

“Who got it?”

“My number-one suspect would be the man's brother, Nathan.”

“Why him?”

“I think after he found the bodies, he went and removed the money. I asked him how much it was. He knew it because he had the Artmans' money for himself. He knew they had exactly three thousand dollars.”

“You figured that out?”

“Only thing made any sense. Those killers obviously left empty-handed. Someone told them the couple had a lot of money and they thought that would be an easy way to get some. So after torturing them and searching for it, their time ran out, and they finally killed them and went on.”

Gates started to say something to a joiner at their table. Chet shook his head. “That's a secret.”

“I understand. Well, did you hear our sheriff telling us off?” Gates asked the man.

“Yeah, who the hell does he think he is anyway?”

“Sheriff, I guess. Excuse me,” Chet said. He wanted a bath, needed a shave, and missed Marge's company.

“We'll see you, Chet. Thanks again,” Gates said after him.