High Valley Manhunt: Laramie Davies #1 (13 page)

“Let
'em try,” he smiled almost relishing the challenge, “now
let's get you upstairs and squared away.”

“Are
you really goin' to lock me up?” Laramie asked skeptically.

Richards
smiled again, “I'm goin' to close the door.”

*

“What
in hell are we goin' to do now?” asked Shell Coltrain as he
rubbed his arm where it still throbbed.

“Shut
up kid, I'm thinkin',” Jeb snapped as he tossed down another
shot of red eye.

“We
can't let him do his own investigation Jeb, we'll never get justice
for Jeremiah if he does,” Zeb lamented.

The
Rock Springs Sheriff remained silent.

“Well?”
questioned his brother.

Suddenly
Jeb had an idea, “Send a wire to the Marshal's office, Judge.
Apprise them of the situation. Say that the local Sheriff has
overstepped his bounds and that he's harbouring a wanted fugitive.
Get them to send word to hand Davis over to us. Go now.”

“And
what if that don't work?” asked the Judge.

“Then
we kill the Sheriff and take Davis anyway.”

“It
says right there,” Zebulon Coltrain stabbed his finger at the
piece of paper Hank Richards held, “you are to release Laramie
Davis into our custody and he is to be transported back to Rock
Springs for trial.”

The
answer to the Judge's wire had come back just after one in the
afternoon.

“I
can see what it says damn it,” snapped Richards, “I can
read, I'm not blind.”

“Well
then,” the Judge smiled gleefully, “go and get him. Bring
him down here so we can leave.”

“No,”
Richards answered flatly.

“What?”
Zeb Coltrain couldn't believe what he'd heard, “This here come
from the Marshal's themselves. It says you are to give up your
prisoner to us. What part of that don't you understand?”

Hank
Richards turned his attention to Jeb Coltrain, “If it is
alright with you, I would like to get that verified.”

“No!”
snapped the Judge, “it's not alright.”

His
brother was of a different opinion, “That's fine Sheriff, you
check on it all you want. But we'll be back before dark to get our
man. Count on it.”

The
Mountain Pass Sheriff stood quietly and watched the Coltrains leave
his office before he took something from the old beat up cupboard
against the wall and headed for the stairs.

Meanwhile,
outside on the board walk, Zebulon Coltrain was beside himself, “What
in hell are you doing? he hissed at Jeb, “We could have walked
out of there with him and had him hung before nightfall.”

Jeb
shook his head and explained, “No, he wouldn't have let him go
without makin' sure it was all legitimate. This way he can check it
out and see that it is all official.”

“I
hope you know what you're doing,” the Judge said with a hint of
menace in his voice, “I mean to have him and if I have to kill
that damn Sheriff to do it, I will.”

“If
we can't get him Judge, I'll kill the Sheriff for you.”

*

Laramie
heard the garbled voices downstairs in the Sheriff's office as he lay
back, on the lumpy cot, in the corner of the cell. As much as he
tried, he couldn't make out what was being said, but he guessed it
would be about him.

He
didn't have to wait long before he found out. Footsteps on the wooden
stairs let him know that he was about to receive a visitor.

Hank
Richards appeared outside the cell door with a grim expression on his
face. Instantly Laramie knew it was not good news.

“You
look like a man who just lost his best horse. What is it now?
Coltrain trouble?”

“Could
it be any other at the moment?” he answered, “they just
turned up with a wire from the Marshal's office in Helena. It said
for me to turn you over to them.”

“Ain't
that somethin',” said Laramie in disbelief, “outlaws
usin' the law for their benefit.”

“Yeah,
it's somethin' alright,” Richards agreed, “these fellers
are startin' to irritate me some Laramie. But I told them I weren't
goin' to hand you over until I checked out the wire first.”

“I
bet they loved that.”

Richards
snorted and said “They give me until sundown and then they're
comin' to get you.”

“If
it comes to that Hank, I ain't goin' down without a fight,” the
gunfighter confirmed, “not to the likes of them.”

“That's
what I thought you'd say,” the Sheriff said as he reached
inside his coat and pulled out one of Laramie's Remingtons, “take
this, just in case.”

Laramie
swung his legs off the bunk and stood up. He walked across to the
cell door and swung it open.

“Thanks,”
he said as he took the weapon.

“If
it comes down to it and the Coltrains come after you, the other one
is in the cupboard down stairs,” Richards explained, “and
if they do for me, make sure my daughter is safe.”

Laramie
nodded.

“I'll
be steppin' out for a while,” Richards told Laramie, “I
need to track down the Judge. He wasn't in his office earlier so I
will try his home. Then I need to check out that wire and see if
there's been an answer from Rock Springs.”

“Watch
your back, Hank,” Laramie warned.

“I
always do.”

Laramie
went back to the cot, put the Remington under the pillow and lay
down. He preferred to meet his enemies head on and to be laid up in
the Mountain Pass jail didn't sit well with the gunfighter. Even
worse, he had to rely on Hank Richards to fight his battle for him.

He
knew when it came down to it, there was only one thing that the
Coltrains would understand. When they came for him, he would give
them what they deserved.

*

Hank
Richards' first stop was the telegraph office where the answer from
his enquiries to Rock Springs waited for him. While he read it,
Richards instructed Charlie, the telegraphist, to send the wire to
the Marshal's office in Helena.

“How
long until I get an answer Charlie?”

Charlie
rubbed a hand through his thinning hair and thought for a moment, “If
you come back in a couple of hours I might have something for you
then.”

Richards
nodded his thanks and left the office. He headed east along main
street towards Judge Billings' house. It was easy to recognise the
Judge's house, with the neatly trimmed gardens, courtesy of his wife
who loved her flowers, and the white painted picket fence.

Hank
swung the gate open and it gave a small squeak from a hinge that
required grease. His boots crunched on the gravel path as he followed
it to wooden steps that led to a timber porch. The front door was
white and the sign on it read simply Judge Billings.

The
Mountain Pass Sheriff knocked on the door and waited. After a couple
of minutes he knocked again, louder this time. Still no one came to
the front door and Richards became concerned. The fact that the Judge
could not be found at his office or at home was a worry. That the
Judge had last been seen with Jeb Coltrain was most concerning of
all.

Richards
knocked one more time and called out. Maybe they just couldn't hear
him.

“Are
you lookin' for the Judge, Sheriff?” asked a voice.

Hank
turned around and saw that the speaker was the town's newspaper
editor, Gray Lawson.

“Yeah
as a matter of fact I am. Have you seen him about today?”

“Nope,
I thought he might be unwell 'cause he never turned up for his
regular chess game this morning.”

That
did it, now he was convinced there was evil afoot, “Gray, come
up here.”

The
editor came up onto the porch, “How can I help?”

“Just
stand there.”

Hank
hit the door with all his strength and it burst open.

Instantly,
the tell tale smell of death wafted out the door, pushed by a cross
draft from a partially open window.

“Oh
my,” Lawson gasped as he held a hand up to his nose.

“Wait
here,” the Sheriff ordered.

Richards
stepped across the threshold and walked down a short hallway that
opened out into the Billings' living room. That was where he found
them both, laid out side by side with their throats cut.

“God
damn it,” Richards cursed out loud, “damn son of a bitch
killed 'em both.”

He
turned away from the macabre scene and walked back out onto the front
porch where a ashen faced editor waited for him.

“Go
and get the Doc, Gray, oh and the Undertaker too.”

Lawson
asked hesitantly, “Both of them?”

Richards
nodded, “Yeah, both of them. But keep it under your hat. I
don't want it getting' around town just yet.”

“Fine,”
he answered and hurried off to do what the Sheriff had asked.

Once
the Doctor and the Undertaker had arrived, Richards went back to the
jail. Lyle Gunderson had just finished his weekly clean of the guns
in the gun cabinet, “Get over to the Judge's place for me Lyle
and keep an eye on things.”

“Sure
thing Sheriff, but what am I keepin' an eye on?”

“Some
one killed the Judge and his wife,” he explained.

The
shock was evident on the Deputy's face. He went to speak but the
Sheriff cut him off, “just go Lyle, now.”

So
without a word Gunderson left the jail.

*

Laramie
cocked the Remington when he heard footsteps on approach. He levelled
it towards the top of the stairs and waited for a head to come into
view. When he realised it was Hank he eased the hammer down and
slipped it back under the pillow.

Laramie
could tell something was wrong, something bad, “What's up?”

“The
Judge and his wife are dead,” he said angrily, “Somebody
cut their throats and there'll be no prizes for guessing who.”

Laramie
understood what he meant, “Coltrains.”

“It
had to be,” Richards confirmed, “Jeb Coltrain was the
last man he was seen with. Before I left the Judge's house the Doc
told me they'd been killed last night.”

“Give
me a badge Hank and we'll go round 'em up,” said Laramie as he
tucked the Remington into his belt.

The
Sheriff shook his head, “I can't. You are still meant to be
under arrest for killin' a peace officer. And before you say it, I
know it was self defence and I'm certain they killed the Judge, but I
need proof. The wire came back from Rock Springs and from the looks
of it you'll be in the clear, although I'm still waitin' on the one
from Helena.”

“So
what are you goin' to do?”

“I'm
goin' to check at the telegraph office to see if that wire has come
through yet and I'm goin' to ask around to see if anyone saw anythin'
last night.”

There
was a rush of footfalls on the stairs and before both men knew it,
Sally appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Is
it true?” she asked, “did someone murder the Judge and
his wife?”

“Yes,
it's true,” Hank confirmed the news to his daughter.

She
gasped with shock and placed a hand to her breast, “How
terrible, who would do such a thing?”

“We
have an idea,” answered Laramie.

“Who?”
she asked before it dawned on her, “The Coltrains?”

“We
suspect it was them,” her father allowed.

“What
are you going to do?”

“I'm
goin' to ask around to see if anybody saw somethin' that might help.
As of this moment I don't have proof. And you are goin' to stay
here.”

“But
Pa...” Sally started.

“No
buts, you're stayin' and that's final. Laramie keep an eye on her.”

Before
Sally could say any more, her father was gone, down the stairs.

*

“Has
an answer come back from Helena yet Charlie?” Richards asked
the telegraphist.

The
man smiled, “Got it right here Sheriff, hot off the wire.”

Richards
took the piece of paper and read it. He then folded it and tucked it
into his jacket pocket.

“Charlie,
I need you to send me one more wire and wait for an answer,”
the Sheriff said as he picked up the stub of a pencil and a small
sheet of paper.

Richards
wrote out what he wanted sent then gave Charlie the piece of paper.
The telegraphist read it and looked questioningly at the Sheriff.”

“The
Judge and his wife are dead?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“Afraid
so Charlie,” he said and left the stunned telegraphist to send
the wire.

*

The
Gold Nugget was half empty when Richards entered through the bat-wing
doors. He figured that was the effect the Coltrains had on people.

He
sidled up to the bar and ordered a beer. Mose, the Negro barkeep was
working the afternoon rush, except it wasn't a rush at all.

The
barkeep gave Hank his beer and he took a large mouthful before
putting it down on the scarred counter top.

“Kinda
quiet in here this afternoon Mose, is one of the other saloons in
town givin' away free booze?”

Mose
picked up a shot glass and cleaned some dust off it, “No sir,
it's them Coltrains. Nobody wants to be around 'em since that
incident at The Royal Flush. And now with the Judge and his wife
turnin' up dead, well let's just say you don't have to look no
further than right here.”

Hank's
interest suddenly piqued, “Have you heard somethin' Mose?”

“I
was talkin' to a customer a little while ago,” Mose explained,
as he kept an eye on the Coltrains, “and he told me that he saw
that young feller down by the judge's last night.”

“Is
he sure it was him?”

“Yes
sir, he seemed mighty sure of what he seen,” Mose affirmed.

“Who
was it Mose?”

The
barkeep backed off a little, “Well, I'm not sure if I should
say Sheriff. This feller was awful scared. He only told me cause he
needed to tell someone.”

Hank's
voice hardened, “Tell me Mose. Tell me who it was now.”

Mose
dropped his gaze, “It was Will Humphries.”

*

The
bell above the door jingled as Hank Richards entered the General
store. Will Humphries had just finished serving a customer so the
Sheriff held the door ajar for them.

“Thank
you Adeline, be seeing you next week.”

“Goodbye
Mister Humphries,” on her way out the door, “thank you
Sheriff.”

Richards
touched his hat brim, “Ma'am.”

After
the lady had left, Richards closed the door, locked it, turned the
sign in the window and pulled the blind.

“This
looks awful serious Sheriff,” Humphries said warily, then in
jest, “You don't plan on robbing the place do you?”

“I
want to have a chat to you about what you saw last night, Will,”
Richards elaborated.

The
store keeper's face gave into the distress that rested just below the
surface of his false exterior, “Oh, God. I knew I shouldn't
have told that damn Mose anything. I just should've kept my mouth
shut. Now they'll kill me too.”

“Now
just calm down Will, they ain't goin' to be killin' anybody else.
Now, Mose said you saw that young feller last night.”