THE DODGE CITY MASSACRE (A Jess Williams Novel.) (15 page)

             
“Good afternoon, Deputy,” said Jeff Parks.

             
“It’ll be a good afternoon once you surrender your weapons over at the sheriff’s office,” replied Fadden.

             
“I’ll surrender them to the sheriff as soon as I ride over there,” replied Parks.

             
“That’s fine with me. I’ll walk you over there myself.”

             
Jeff Parks walked his horse over to the sheriff’s office and as he looked around, he noticed all the men on the rooftops with rifles. Parks dismounted and tied his horse to the wooden rail in front of the sheriff’s office. Fadden noticed that Parks’ every move seemed practiced and very deliberate. When he dismounted, he placed his hand on the hammer of his six-shooter to make sure there was no chance it could fall out, which was a move practiced by any seasoned gunslinger. Also, Parks stayed completely cool and calm even though he was looking down the barrels of shotguns all the while. He slowly walked up the steps going into the office and found Sheriff Fowler sitting behind his desk.

             
“Good afternoon, Sheriff,” said Jeff Parks, who was still standing in front of the sheriff’s desk. Sheriff Fowler gave him a good look over.

             
“Something tells me it ain’t going to end up being a good afternoon,” replied Sheriff Fowler, as he leaned back in his chair.

             
“Now why would you think that, Sheriff?” asked Jeff Parks, very politely.

             
“Because I’ve been around a while and I can tell by one look at you that you’re a gunslinger and probably looking for someone to challenge. That’s a mighty nice pistol and holster you got there.”

             
“It is, isn’t it? I had the holster made down in southern Texas by a Mexican leather worker. He sure does some nice work. The pistol was custom ordered from out east and cost me a pretty penny, but it was worth the extra money,” replied Parks.

             
“Well, I’m guessing you read the sign outside of town about surrendering all weapons to my office upon arrival in town, so you might as well take that thing off,” said the sheriff.

             
“Okay, but can you make sure that you take really good care of it?” asked Parks. “It would probably take me six months to replace that pistol and holster.”

             
“I’ll take care of it like it was my own. You didn’t say what brought you to Black Creek,” said the sheriff. I hope you’re not working with that bunch of thugs out in the hills west of town, because if you are, you’re going to end up in one of those cells there with those other two,” said the sheriff.

             
“No, I always work alone, Sheriff. As you can see from my gun and holster, I’m a gunslinger and I’m trying to raise my reputation to a level to be considered one of the fastest men in the west. I search for other gunslingers that have a reputation and challenge them to a duel, but I always do it proper and fair. If a man won’t draw against me, I just keep at him until he does. It’s kind of like a challenge in life for me.”

             
“So, who are you looking for here in Black Creek?” the sheriff asked.

             
“I’m looking for a man by the name of Jess Williams. I heard he grew up in this area and the last information I got about him was that he was here in Black Creek. Is that true, Sheriff?”

             
The sheriff looked down at his desk for a moment and back up. “Yes, he is here, but he is working as one of my deputies and he has a badge on his shirt at the moment. He came here to help us with a bunch of gunslingers and thugs that have been making life miserable in town lately.”

             
“So, that’s the reason for the signs posted out at the end of the town about weapons?”

             
“Yes. By the way, what is your name if you don’t mind me asking?”

             
“I don’t mind at all, Sheriff. My name is Jeff Parks. I come from the southern area of Texas.”

             
“Well, Mr. Parks, you seem like a nice man for a gunslinger. Why do you want to find Mr. Williams anyway?”

             
“First, I’d like to challenge him to a duel. I was biding my time and waiting until I just ran into him in my travels, but there is a ten thousand dollar blood bounty on his head now and that’s a lot of money.”

             
“Well, he’s over at the saloon, but there ain’t going to be any duel between the two of you in town and especially not while he’s one of my deputies.”

             
“Sheriff, I think that’s a decision that should be made by Jess Williams himself, don’t you think?”

             
“Not when it’s in my town and not while he’s wearing a badge issued by me.”

             
“Well, I’ll just go over to the saloon and speak with him about the matter,” replied Parks.

             
“Talking is fine, but make sure you surrender that Winchester and shotgun I saw on your horse when you rode up to Deputy Fadden here before you go over there. You ain’t wearing any derringers or boot guns are you?”

             
“No sir, Sheriff. I don’t have any use for them. I’ll leave my horse here with your deputy and walk over to the saloon to see Mr. Williams,” replied Parks, as he got up and walked out of the sheriff’s office.

XXX

              Jess and Andy had been swapping stories when Parks walked into the saloon and up to the bar. Jess saw the man wasn’t wearing any six-shooter, but he knew from one look at the man that he was a gunslinger or a bounty hunter. Parks ordered a very expensive bottle of brandy from Andy and Andy poured him a glass of it.

             
“I’m Andy, and what might your name be, Mister?” asked Andy, curiosity getting the best of him.

             
“I’m pleased to meet you, Andy. My name is Jeff Parks,” as he looked over at Jess. “I am going to make an educated guess from what I have gathered about you over there that you are Jess Williams,” replied Parks.

             
Jess looked the man over again. “You’re pretty good at guessing, Mr. Parks. Let me give it a try. I’m guessing that you are here because of the ten thousand dollars of blood bounty on my head courtesy of a man by the name of Henry Stidham.”

             
“You are correct, Mr. Williams. Please understand that this is not a personal vendetta. Actually, I rather respect your work and believe you are ridding the west of some pretty nasty characters roaming around.”

             
“I guess I’ll have to take that as a compliment,” Mr. Parks. “You’re going to have a problem collecting that bounty money because—well—first, I see that you’re not wearing a gun and I’m guessing it’s because the sheriff made you surrender it; and second, the sheriff won’t allow any gun fighting in town.”

             
“Yes, that does seem to present a problem for me.”

             
“So, what are you planning on doing about it?”

             
“Well, I’m going to ask you if you would ride out of town and meet me for a duel?” asked Parks, as if he was simply asking another man to join him for a poker game. It was a very polite request instead of the usual demand made by other men who were gunslingers. Jess was very interested in this man’s demeanor and the way he spoke and handled himself.

             
“Mr. Parks, you seem like a very nice person and I really don’t want to be the one to end your life, so why don’t you just give this idea up and go back to challenging other gunslingers. There is no shortage of them out there,” replied Jess, politely.

             
“Yes, I agree that you are correct on that point, but there is a shortage of men who have a ten thousand dollar bounty on their head.”

             
“You’ve got me there,” replied Jess, “but just the same, I’d rather not get into a duel with you.”

             
“Are you afraid to face me in a fair gunfight, Mr. Williams?” He didn’t ask the question sarcastically. It was simply a straightforward question.

             
“Mr. Parks, if you really know anything about me, you know the answer to that question already.”

             
“I suppose I do, but I’d still like to challenge you to a duel. We can do it outside of town without violating the towns’ ordinance of no weapons or gunfights in town.”

             
“You’re really hell bent on doing this, ain’t you?” replied Jess.

             
“Well, I wouldn’t use that exact term, but yes, I will continue to pursue you until you finally oblige me to a duel.”

             
Andy looked at Jess. “Jess, you don’t have to do this. Besides, the town needs you to concentrate on the problems at hand.”

             
“I know, Andy, but one thing I’ve learned is that when a man makes up his mind about facing off with another man, there ain’t much you can do to change it. He’ll just wait for another time or another town so I might as well get it over with.”

             
“Thank you, Mr. Williams. I’d be honored if you would let me buy you a glass of this fine brandy and have a drink with you first. Then, I’ll meet you about a half mile out the east end of town in a half-hour for our duel.”

             
“Alright, Mr. Parks, but don’t thank me just yet,” replied Jess.

             
Andy poured them both another glass of brandy. Jess looked over at Parks and studied him a little. The way that Jeff Parks handled himself and his demeanor just seemed so out of character for the usual gunslinger.

             
“Mr. Parks, do you mind if I ask you to consider a different proposal?” asked Jess.

             
“Of course you can ask, as long as you understand that I might say no.”

             
“Well, you said a moment ago that you respected my work and that I was ridding the west of some pretty nasty men, so here is my proposal. You are obviously good with a gun and I don’t suppose you would have any problems with killing some very bad men. Why don’t you let the sheriff deputize you and then agree to help us the next day or two fighting off this bunch of gunslingers who will surely come to town and try to kill a lot of innocent people. We could sure use your skills.”

             
Jeff Parks thought for a moment. “Let’s say I agree, what do I get out of it in return?”

             
“You get your gunfight with me like you want. I won’t be a lawman at that point and we can do it outside of town since I have to leave as soon as this is over.”

             
“I don’t know,” replied Parks. “I agree with ridding the west of these types of bad men you are dealing with, but why should I risk my life helping out with a problem that has nothing to do with me?” asked Parks.

             
“I’ll tell you why. I will write you a note right now that you can take to the bank manager, Mr. Jameson, right here in town. The note will say that if Jess Williams is dead that the bearer of this note is to receive five thousand dollars from my account with no questions asked.”

             
“Are you plum loco!” exclaimed Andy.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

              Jeff Parks thought about Jess’ proposal for a moment. He finally responded. “You really make a very interesting offer, Mr. Williams. Are you really serious about actually paying me five thousand dollars of your own money if I’m able to beat you in a gunfight? How do I know you have the money anyway?”

             
“I’m serious and the sheriff will vouch for it. I just donated one thousand dollars to renovate the jail,” replied Jess.

             
“I say we go and see the sheriff then,” Mr. Williams. “If what you say is true, I’ll accept your offer, but don’t get yourself killed fending off these gunslingers and thieves you told me about.”

             
Jess and Parks walked over to see Sheriff Fowler. After Jess told Sheriff Fowler about the offer he had made to Parks, the sheriff was so surprised, he stood up.

             
“Are you out of your mind? You’re actually going to pay this man, who came here to challenge you to a gunfight five thousand dollars of your own money if he kills you?” asked the sheriff.

             
“Well, if he beats me, that means I’m dead and I won’t have any use for the money anyway. Besides, we could use his help and he has agreed to stand and fight with us. Are you really going to turn him down? He’s obviously good with weapons and probably better than all your other men—except me of course,” replied Jess.

             
The sheriff couldn’t believe that he was even thinking it over, but he was. He sat back down and reached into one of his drawers in his desk and brought out a white cloth. He unwrapped Parks’ holster and pistol from the cloth and handed it to him. “Here, I guess if you’re going to help us, you’ll need this. You can have your rifle and shotgun back too,” said the sheriff, as he removed them from the rack behind him.