True to the Law (25 page)

Miss Gertrude Morrow had a certain devious charm. And, yes, he decided, it was another thing he liked about her.

Cobb made a point of staying out of the conversation. It was more entertaining to remain in the box seats than join the players onstage.

“What a surprise to see you, Andrew, and I hope you can appreciate my confusion. Marshal Bridger says he knows you, but I don’t understand how that’s possible. Even with the railroad, the telegraph, this country cannot already have grown so small that coincidence accounts for it.”

Andrew stroked his neatly trimmed beard with the back of his index finger. He regarded Tru and spoke as if Cobb were absent from the table. “He didn’t explain?”

“He might have if I hadn’t jumped up to greet you.”

“You did leap from your chair. You put me in mind of a jack-in-the-box.”

“How you flatter me.”

He laughed. “I’ve missed sparring with you, Gertie.”

Cobb tapped the side of his fist against his chest as he choked on a mouthful of beer. He managed to swallow, but it required considerable effort. That Tru was watching him, evincing concern, did not help. Mackey reached over and slapped him on the back. Hard.

“I’m all right,” Cobb said, putting up a hand to block Andrew’s next blow. “Down the wrong pipe.” He saw that he could have saved his breath and the explanation.
Gertie
and Andrew Mackey were already turning away from him.

“I hired Mr. Bridger to find you,” Andrew told her.

Tru’s gaze slid to Cobb. “Is that right?”

Cobb reluctantly joined the players, hoping he had only the one line. “Yes.”

Andrew feigned deep disappointment. “I should not be surprised that you’re skeptical. Long hours in my grandmother’s company have that effect.”

Tru sobered. “I read about her passing. I trust you know how sorry I am for your loss. I cared for her deeply.”

He said nothing for a long moment, then, “I thought you did.”

The edges of Tru’s mouth flattened. “Please say what you mean.”

“You didn’t stay. You abandoned her.”

“I was following her wishes.”

“You abandoned all of us.”

“Hardly.”

“You didn’t tell anyone that you were leaving or where you were going.”

“Your grandmother knew.”

“Yes, well, she took that secret to her grave.”

Tru closed her eyes briefly; when she opened them again, her expression was earnest. “I didn’t ask her to do that.”

Andrew leaned back in his chair as Cil arrived with his plate, utensils, and napkin. She hovered expectantly after setting all of it down. Under the table, Tru nudged his foot. “Thank you,” he said at Tru’s prompting. When Cil was gone, he remarked to Tru, “That will require getting used to.”

“Customs are different here. She merely wanted you to notice her. As you pointed out, this is not the Drake.”

He looked at her with concern. “I’ve upset you. You snipe at me when you’re upset.”

“I snipe at you because you’re infuriating.”

He laughed. “It’s so very good to see you.”

She gave him a cool smile and did not return the sentiment. “You haven’t yet explained yourself, Andrew. If I may use Mr. Bridger as evidence, it seems that you went to some trouble to find me. What I still don’t know is why.”

He shook his head as he picked up his fork. “Not a conversation I care to have here.”

Cobb finished his beer. “I can leave.”

“No need,” Mackey said. He tried the cabbage and spoke around a mouthful of food. “This is very good. Bitter Springs has something to recommend it after all.” He swallowed, smiled. “Apart from present company that is.”

Since Mackey was looking at Tru, Cobb felt safe in assuming he was not included in that company.

“Where would you like to have that conversation?” Tru asked

“We’ll go for a walk. You can show me around Bitter Springs.”

“Didn’t the station agent’s grandsons escort you to the Pennyroyal from the station?”

“They escorted my bags. The ladies rode in the buckboard. I walked with their husbands. Did I miss the tour?”

“A better one than I can give you.”

“The boys seemed competent enough fellows, but I prefer you.”

“Perhaps you won’t after you’ve spent some time with Rabbit and Finn, but very well, it will be a pleasure to walk with you.”

Now that he had secured Tru’s promise, Cobb waited for Mackey to fix his attention on him. It happened almost immediately.

“We have business to settle,” Mackey said.

“Are we going for a walk?”

Mackey smiled thinly. “I think not. Meet me in my room at”—he checked his pocket watch—“nine.”

Cobb nodded. He looked from Mackey to Tru and back to Mackey. “If there’s nothing else . . .” He started to rise.

“Actually,” Andrew said, “there is.”

Cobb put himself back in his chair.

“I’m curious about how you came to be marshal.”

“Miss Morrow told you. The mayor appointed me. The position had been vacant for a while. Folks were growing uncomfortable with that.”

“So they accepted a stranger?”

Tru interrupted. “Is that skepticism, Andrew? I’m not sure that it’s warranted. How much did you know about Mr. Bridger when you hired him?”

“A great deal more than either you or your mayor, I should think. He was employed by Pinkerton.”

Tru looked at Cobb. “Were you?”

Cobb’s mouth tilted wryly. “I was.”

“Well,” she said to Andrew, “I’m sure the mayor knows all about that. And my point is really that you have no point. You made the same judgment. I would be willing to wager that Mr. Bridger has spent more time with the citizens of Bitter Springs than he did with you. Everyone here is quite happy with the mayor’s choice.”

“Do you include yourself?”

Tru hesitated. “Frankly, I was more pleased before I discovered that he was in your employ. I’m not certain what I think about him now.”

Cobb was not surprised when Mackey seized the opening she gave him and twisted the knife. “I imagine he lied to you.”

“I’m sure he did. Lies of omission at the very least.”

“Is it usual for you to have dinner with him?”

“No.” She held his gaze and her breath until he turned away. “Neither is it unusual.”

Mackey nodded. “I thought so.” He continued to eat.

When Cil came to take his plate, he made a point of thanking her and complimenting her dress.

“You’ll turn her head,” Tru told him after she left.

“Like Mr. Bridger turned yours?”

“Andrew.”

He said nothing, merely lifted an eyebrow.

“Please,” she said. “Do not make me regret giving you my promise. I was hoping that I could enjoy our walk.”

For the first time since becoming marshal, Cobb regretted not strapping on his gun. If Jenny Phillips were here, she would have already stabbed Mackey. He picked up another bar of soft sugar gingerbread and stuffed half of it in his mouth. Across the table, he watched Tru lower her eyes when a movement in the reflective glass distracted Mackey. Her lips actually twitched.

Cobb wasn’t sure whether Tru’s nerves were unraveling, or whether she was trying not to laugh. It made him want to shove the other half of the gingerbread bar in his mouth even if he choked on it. Her mouth—her lovely mouth—looked even more inviting when laughter edged her lips.

Mackey tore his eyes away from the window and settled them on Cobb. “We’re done here. You can do whatever it is you do to see that peace is kept in Bitter Springs.”

“Generally I lock up vagrants,” said Cobb. “I’d advise you to keep moving on that walk. Don’t loiter. There’s an ordinance I am duty bound to uphold, and I have the impression you would not like the accommodations.”

Cobb pushed back his chair. “Miss Morrow. Always a pleasure.” He glanced at Andrew Mackey. “Nine o’clock. I haven’t forgotten.”

* * *

Cobb stopped in the saloon to gauge the mood before he made his rounds. He declined Ted Rush’s invitation to join him and the Davis brothers in a game of poker but stayed at their table long enough to answer some of the less pointed questions about Andrew Mackey. Ted had been in the dining room when Mackey arrived and very little had escaped his notice. He hadn’t been able to hear the conversation, but that didn’t stop Ted from creating one. Cobb corrected a few misapprehensions and let others stand. In any event, it was hard to turn Ted away from an idea once it took root, and if the hardware store owner thought Andrew Mackey looked like the miscreant who robbed a bank up Rawlins way, it just made good sense to have an extra pair of eyes watching their new visitor.

Cobb lingered at the long mahogany bar with a beer while Walt shared his first impressions of Andrew Mackey. Walt would spit in his own soup before he said anything unflattering about a guest at the Pennyroyal, but Cobb noticed he chose his words carefully. He confirmed that Mackey had not been satisfied with the first room he was shown. It was because of Cil’s quick thinking—and her desire to please a man who so obviously had deep pockets—that he ended up in the Coltranes’ apartments. Ida Mae Sterling was still fit to be tied.

The last thing Cobb did before he left the hotel was to find Mrs. Sterling. She was happy to hand over a spare key to the suite so he could have a look around. “Mind that you take particular account of the books and photographs,” she told him. “It’s not a lending library, and I don’t cotton to the idea of him making free with things that don’t belong to him.”

That was how he came to be comfortably seated in the Coltranes’ residence when Andrew Mackey returned to the Pennyroyal.

Mackey stopped short of crossing the threshold when he saw Cobb. “I see that being the law in Bitter Springs gives you certain privileges.” Stepping inside, he dropped his key on a nearby table and reached behind him to close the door. He gave Cobb scant attention while he removed his hat and coat. He carried both into the large bedroom at the rear of the suite.

Cobb was not moved to follow him, but he was aware that Mackey was in no hurry to reappear. He heard water running in the bathing room. The Pennyroyal had amenities not generally found in hotels outside of the big cities. He wondered if Andrew Mackey had an appreciation for that or whether it was simply an expectation. It was hard to believe that it wasn’t the latter.

Cobb had no problem with Mackey taking his time. It wasn’t yet nine o’clock.

Mackey ignored Cobb when he reentered the sitting room and went directly to the drinks cabinet. He chose whiskey over brandy or wine and poured two fingers into a tumbler. He did not offer Cobb a drink.

Turning away from the cabinet, Mackey unbuttoned his jacket. He looked around, taking in the conversational arrangement of the sofa and chairs, the bookshelves that lined the alcove where a writing desk was positioned, and the scarred table and unmatched chairs that appeared to be used for dining. His gaze finally settled on Cobb. “What would you call this room?”

Cobb made a point of taking in the room’s appointments as if he were seeing them for the first time. In reality the inventory was already logged in his head. “Is it important?”

“Not at all,” Mackey said easily. “I was merely curious. It appears to have several functions. For instance, you seem to be sitting in the study.”

Cobb had chosen the alcove because when he turned the desk chair it put the window at his back and gave him the widest view of the great room. Not only did he face the door, but also wherever Mackey finally decided to sit, Cobb would have him in his sight.

“I’d hoped I had chosen the place where business is conducted,” he said. “And where our business will be concluded.”

“Since it’s not my desk, I don’t suppose it matters where we settle.”

“You have my money?”

Mackey nodded but made no move to get it. He sipped his drink instead. “I saw you out earlier this evening. When I was with Miss Morrow. It occurred to me that you might be following us.”

Cobb’s long legs were stretched in front of him, crossed at the ankles. One boot heel rested on a footstool he had removed from the sitting area. His arms were folded across his chest. His posture was not without purpose. He intended that Mackey should see that he was easy in this setting, as easy as he had been in the far grander surroundings of Mackey’s own study. The same could not be said for Andrew Mackey III.

Tru had said Mackey was not a snob, but Cobb had his doubts. “I was making my rounds,” said Cobb.

“You do that every night?”

“I do. The mayor expects it.”

“So when I saw you behind us . . .” He let his voice trail away, took another sip of whiskey.

“You saw me doing my job.”

Mackey nodded slowly. He remained at his post beside the drinks cabinet. “About that job. I want you to resign.”

Cobb had expected that. “And . . . ?”

“And leave Bitter Springs.”

Cobb tilted his head to one side as though in serious contemplation. He eventually blew out a short breath, grunting softly at the back of his throat.