Longarm and the Whiskey Woman (6 page)

The one closest to him grabbed him by the arm. He said in a hard, young man's voice, "I'm talking to you. Keep your hands still and don't make no sudden moves."

The suddenness of the encounter had taken Longarm off guard. He was amazed at himself that badges had caused him to believe that the men might be approaching him on official business, one law officer to another. For an instant, he had forgotten that he was not presenting himself as a United States deputy marshal.

He said, "What the hell is this all about?"

The other deputy had come around and taken his other arm. They were both holding him with tight hands.

The bigger of the two, who had been doing the speaking from the beginning, said, "You're under arrest, mister. You're going to jail."

Longarm gave him a mild look. He said, "What the hell are you going to arrest me for? Using the sidewalk?"

"Never mind what we're arresting you for. You're just under arrest. You got that?"

Longarm said, "You're making a mistake."

The deputy leered at him. He said, "No, you're the one that made the mistake. Now, come on."

They jerked him forward along the sidewalk. Longarm glanced around, but no one else was in sight. He walked willingly enough because he had no choice, and his mind was racing as he wondered if he was going to have to expose himself to get out of whatever supposed charge was being brought against him. He preferred not to tell the two deputies that he was a federal officer. He doubted that it would be much safer to tell the sheriff, since this didn't seem to be the kind of town where a federal officer would be very respected or well received, but at least, talking to the sheriff in private would be better than arguing with two young gorillas out in the middle of town.

They suddenly surprised him. An alley yawned just a few feet ahead, and before he could realize what was happening, they were steering him into its opening. The buildings on each side suddenly cut the last of the sunlight off and he had to blink his eyes in the dimness of the alley. He said, "What in the hell is going on here? I thought you said you were taking me to jail. The jail ain't this way."

The bigger of the two deputies jerked on his arm and said, "Move along. We'll decide where you be a-going, mister."

Longarm tried to stop by digging his heels in the dirt. He said, "Listen, you two boys are making a hell of a mistake. I don't know what you have in mind, but you better turn me loose."

They jerked him forward. "Come along, here, or we'll handcuff your hands behind you and drag you by your bootstraps."

They had gone about ten yards deep into the alley. Longarm could see the light at the other end and, in that light, he could see a figure approaching. He jerked backward, forcing the men to stop. The figure was coming closer and closer. Now the two deputies seemed content to just hold him in place. As the figure approached, it turned into a man, and in a few more steps, it turned into Morton Colton.

Longarm said, "I'll be a son of a bitch. So this is what you two boys are up to."

The deputy holding his left hand suddenly curled his arm around Longarm's neck, jerking his chin back. He said, "Shut your mouth, mister. You're fixing to get yours right now."

Longarm was forced to look over his cheekbones at Colton as he came forward. He could see that the man was working a pair of heavy leather gloves onto his fists. Longarm didn't think he'd have to guess what was fixing to happen to him.

Colton
stopped some three or four yards away. Even in the gloom of the alley, Longarm could see the glitter of hatred in the man's eyes. Colton reached up and swept off his planter's hat and threw it to the ground. He said, smacking one fist into the palm of the other, "Now, Mr. Long, you're going to get yours. I warned you that you were making a big mistake. You didn't understand then. Now, I'm going to beat you to a bloody pulp, you son of a bitch."

Longarm said, "Takes two to hold me and you to hit me? You're some man, Colton."

Colton
said, "Talk all you want, big shot. You're fixing to get your face caved in and then, when you're down, I'm going to kick the living shit out of you."

As Colton started forward, Longarm suddenly flung his weight hard against the man at his left. He felt the man give slightly, felt the hold around his neck loosen. As they swayed to the left, he used that momentum to pull the man on his right with them. Then, with a sudden shift of his weight, Longarm cocked his right arm and swung his body hard to the right, driving his elbow into the deputy's stomach. He felt his elbow go deep into the man's midriff, heard the swoosh of breath as it left the man, felt the solid contact as he shoved all of his weight into the blow. The man released Longarm's right arm and staggered backward. Out of the corner of his eye, Longarm could see him bent over. He didn't pause.

In an instant, he had pivoted back toward his left, bringing up his big right hand, making it into a fist, letting his body turn, throwing all his weight now back to his left. The deputy that he had shoved against was now standing there with a surprised look on his face. Longarm hit him flush in the mouth, driving his fist through the man's face, feeling a bone crunch. He hit the man as hard as he could. The deputy dropped almost as if he had been hit by a bullet. In another instant, Longarm was coming back to his right. He knew there would be trouble in that direction. As he turned, he went down to his right knee. The deputy he'd struck in the stomach was now some three or four yards back. He was drawing his gun. Longarm hesitated. He didn't want to have to kill the man. He was, after all, wearing a badge.

It had to be a split-second decision. Longarm did not believe the deputy was going to draw the gun just to arrest him again. He felt sure the man was going to fire. All that flashed through his mind in that flicker of an instant it took to assess the situation. The deputy's gun was almost clear of the leather when Longarm drew. He fired once, the bullet striking the deputy high in the middle of his chest. He went staggering backward and slammed into the wall of a building, the gun falling from his lifeless hand. He slid slowly down to a sitting position and then toppled over.

Longarm was already swinging around, looking for Colton. He saw the man backing away. Ten yards now separated them. He said, "Colton, you son of a bitch, halt!"

But Colton was starting into a back-pedaling run. Longarm cocked his revolver, aiming carefully, the fury rising in his brain like whiskey fumes. He was about to fire when a voice behind him yelled.

"Mr. Long! Mr. Long! Stop! Hold it!"

Longarm knew it could not possibly be the deputy he had hit in the face, and he didn't have any idea who it could be. He swiveled his head around in a quick move. It was Frank Carson. Longarm said, "What the hell?"

Carson
came running up, touching his shoulder. He said, "Mr. Long, you've got to get out of here! You just killed that deputy."

Longarm sighted back down the alley. "Yeah, but I'm going to kill this fucking Colton before I do."

It was going to be a hard shot. Colton was fast disappearing into the gloom of the alley. Longarm was about to squeeze off a shot when Frank Carson shook him by the shoulder. He said, "No! Let him go! You're in enough trouble as it is. I've got to get you the hell out of here."

Longarm rose from his knee, holstering his revolver as he did. He said, "What do you mean, you've got to get me out of here? All I was doing was defending my life."

Carson
pointed at the deputy dead against the wall. He said, "You just killed a law officer."

Longarm said, "Law officer my ass. That son of a bitch was doing Colton's dirty work for him. Besides that, he drew on me first. I let him get halfway out of the holster before I drew."

Carson
said, "I know. I saw it, but that don't change anything. I've still got to get you out of here." Longarm stared at him, his mind working.

CHAPTER 4

Longarm stared at the tall man for a long moment. He said, "Why do you have to get me out of here?"

"Because you're a dead man if I don't."

Longarm looked at him closely. "What the hell do you care?"

Carson
shrugged. He said, "I don't know. Maybe it's just because I don't like Colton and his bunch. Is that reason enough for you?"

Longarm said, "I tell you, I was in the right. Colton was fixing to-"

Carson
interrupted him. He said, "I know what was fixing to happen. I saw all of it. I saw them take you off the sidewalk and into the alley. I just got here too late to keep you from killing that deputy. I was planning on stopping it myself, but I was across the street. It happened too fast."

Longarm glanced at the deputy lying dead. The other one was beginning to make moaning sounds. He said, "What happens if I stay here?"

Colton
shrugged. He said, "Colton goes straight to the sheriff, who then comes over here and arrests you. He'll throw you in a jail and about a week later, a judge has you sentenced, and then they hang you."

Of course, Longarm knew he wasn't going to jail and he wasn't going to be hung. Not with that deputy marshal's badge in his pocket. But he still hoped to do his job. Longarm said, "Where the hell can I run to?"

"Let me worry about that. Let's go. Have you got a horse?"

Longarm shook his head. "Hell, no, and I don't know where to get one, either. That livery stable ain't got nothing except a bunch of broken-down nags."

Carson
said, "Don't worry about it, I'll get you a horse. Let's go. We're just lucky that there were as few people on the street as there were or else we might already have a crowd. Let's get out of here before somebody discovers this mess."

As they hurried across the street, Longarm said, "I hope, when this is all over, you're going to explain all this to me in a way so that I can understand it."

Carson
said, "I may explain it, but you still may not understand it. Just understand this right now. You're in big trouble and you need to make some tracks."

"But where can I go?"

They were almost to the livery stable. Carson said, "Don't worry. I've got a place I can take you."

As the two men got to the entrance of the livery, Longarm said, "What the hell are we going in here for? They ain't got nothing in there but nags. I don't want a horse between my legs that's going to crater halfway out of town."

Carson
said, "Not to worry, Mr. Long. I know they've got a couple of good horses here because they belong to me. All we need to do is get a saddle for you and I reckon that can be arranged."

In a matter of moments, two good-looking horses were led out from the corral in the back and the stable boys had them saddled and bridled and ready to go, almost before Longarm could spread a little money around. His horse was a dun, a mare, but she was long-legged and long-necked and built high in the hindquarters. He could tell she was a traveling horse.

As Longarm stepped into the saddle, he said to Carson, "For a man who's just passing through town, you keep some mighty good livestock on hand. Must run up the bill shipping them back and forth from wherever you call home."

Carson
swung up on a bay gelding. "Well, I dabble in a little horse trading on the side. Just happen to have these two left over."

Longarm said, "Yeah, I bet." They went out of the door to the livery stable at a fast walk and then turned right on Main Street, heading north. As they turned, Longarm glanced to his left and he could see a few people gathered around the mouth of the alley.

Frank Carson said, "I would calculate we didn't have a minute to waste. Let's kick these horses on up and get on out of town."

Together, they loped through the darkening town, heading north toward the mountains that hung high and craggy against the night sky.

In less than five minutes, going at a lope, they had cleared the town and were on a wagon road that was bending to the east.

Longarm said, "You care if I ask where we're going?"

"I'm going to get you to safety, but it's going to be a kind of relay operation."

"I hope to hell that you ain't getting me into more trouble than I would have been in back at that town. You know, I could have made a pretty good case with that sheriff about what was done to me."

Frank Carson laughed without humor. "Oh, yes. He's going to believe you, especially over the word of Morton Colton. You killed one of his deputies, Long. I think you ought to know that."

"Are you telling me that the law here is that corrupt?"

"I'm telling you that the law here belongs to the Coltons and a couple of other families. And I'm telling you that Morton Colton's job has been and will be to grease up the law both local and them other kinds."

"What other kinds?"

Carson
looked over at him from his horse. "We get the occasional Treasury agent around here from time to time. Colton takes care of them."

The words took Longarm by such surprise that he almost halted the mare. The news that he had just heard meant that he was working for people that were already part of a swindle, people that could very easily betray him to the very whiskey runners he had been sent down to expose. It was all he could do to keep the surprise out of his voice when he said, "Treasury agents? What are those?"