Longarm #399 : Longarm and the Grand Canyon Murders (9781101554401) (16 page)

Longarm was looking hot and ragged by the time he rode up to the shanty with the sign that read: boat trips and horseback rides. hunters and tourists welcome.

He took one look at the run-down operation and the herd of skinny, mangy ponies corralled nearby, the sagging and dirty tents for rent and the storefront and saloon, and reckoned the whole outfit couldn’t represent an investment of more than a hundred dollars.

Two tall and ragged-looking men were sitting in rickety chairs in front of the store and saloon, and they offered little greeting when Longarm rode up and dismounted.

“Afternoon,” Longarm said to the pair. “Can a man get a drink and a meal here?”

“A man that has money can get most anything he wants right here,” the taller of the two replied after spitting a stream of tobacco into the dirt. “You got some money, mister?”

“I have a little, yes. Not that it’s any of your damned business.”

“Don’t need to get uppity on us,” the other man said. “It’s just that we deal in cash and gold. You ain’t got either, then you’d best move along.”

Longarm had the feeling that this pair was not overly bright and that they were also not in charge. He tied Old Red to a hitching rail and walked past the two men without another word. When he got inside the hot, crowded store, he found a plank stretched across two empty whiskey barrels and behind it a big woman with a dirty rag wrapped around her head and a pistol strapped to her ample waist. She might have been thirty, but she looked far older.

“Any whiskey left that’s drinkable?” he asked.

The woman was just as unfriendly as the pair outside. “Any cash in your pockets, mister?”

Longarm laid a silver dollar on the plank. “That ought to buy me a couple drinks and a good meal.”

“Maybe in Flagstaff or on the reservation it would, but everything we have has to be freighted a long damn way down here. So your dollar will get you two drinks and a plate of cold beef and beans.”

“Then that’s what I’ll have,” Longarm told the woman. “Whiskey first.”

What she poured was so murky you couldn’t see through it from one side of the glass to the other. When Longarm raised the glass to his lips, it even smelled bad. “What kind of horse piss do you serve here?”

“One kind and you’re holdin’ it,” she snapped, taking the dollar and dropping it into her dirty dress pocket. “You want that plate of beef and beans now?”

“If it is fit to eat.”

“It’s fit. Maybe you’d like to get fancy and buy a can of peaches to go with it,” she suggested.

Longarm shook his head and choked down the
whiskey in a single gulp. “Worst horse piss I’ve had in a long, long time. Got any beer?”

“Nope.”

“Then give me another glass and bring that food along.”

The woman squinted one eye, spat her own stream of tobacco on the floor, and growled, “You’re kinda used to givin’ folks orders, huh?”

“I am as a matter of fact.”

“Well,” she said, lips curling down at the corners, “down here in the canyon we don’t cotton to strangers who are uppity and like to give orders.”

Longarm took a step back. “Are you and those two half-wits outside completely stupid or are you three just plain disagreeable and ornery?”

“Mister, I’m ornery enough to tell you to eat your meal, drink your second drink, and then drag your tall ass back to wherever it came from!”

Longarm had rarely seen such open hostility… especially from someone who ought to be trying to make money off the sale of food or drinks. He wanted to let these ignorant people know that he wasn’t in any mood for their orneriness. He also wanted to tell them that he was a federal marshal that had come a long way to learn about the disappearances of a judge and his wife and also the death of three river guides, but he decided to hold his silence for the time being.

“Here,” the woman said, slapping a jug on the plank. “Pour yourself another glass and try to be more sociable, or leave…makes no matter to me.”

Longarm poured. The woman went into another small room and came back a few minutes later with a bent tin plate filled with some greasy beef and cold beans. “You can eat right there on the bar.”

“You call this rotting plank a ‘bar’?”

“It serves the purpose of one.”

Longarm lifted the plate and took a good smell. It didn’t stink, and he guessed it wasn’t rotten, so he demanded a knife and spoon, which seemed to nettle the ugly woman no end.

“Most folks eat it with their fingers,” she snorted, disappearing for a moment to return with a knife and fork. “But then some can’t wipe their asses properly, so I guess they need a knife and a fork.”

Longarm bit back a reply and cut the lardy beef and chomped it down. He hadn’t eaten much since leaving the Rimrock Hotel, and he was famished enough to endure this cold and miserable meal.

“I was thinking of renting a boat and riding the river a ways,” he said after he’d managed to swallow his food and then toss down the cloudy whiskey. “I saw those boats beached on the sand and figured that they were for rent.”

“Ha!” The woman put her hands on her hips and gave him a superior smile. “You ain’t no riverboat man! Why, if you got out on that Colorado River, it’d sweep you away and drown your ass at the first little rapids and white water. Not that I’d give a damn…but them boats are too good to lose.”

“So I have to hire one or both of those morons out front to take me on the river?”

“That’s the size of it.” She cackled. “But if you want to take a bath in the river, be our guest! Course, it’s even dirtier than yourself.”

Longarm burped, and the aftertaste in his mouth wasn’t pleasant. “What’s your name?”

“Gertie. Gertie Rowe. What’s it to you?”

“Are those two inbred-looking fellas outside your brothers?”

“Matter of fact they are. Wade and Orvis Rowe. And now that I’ve told you that, what’s your gawdamn handle?”

“Custis Long.”

“Well,” she said, looking him up and down. “You’re long, all right. Taller than Wade or Orvis, I’d say. You probably got a longer cock on you too.”

“You’ll never know,” he told her.

“Hump! If you wanted a poke in me, I’d probably turn you down.”

“I wouldn’t put my cock in you even if someone held a shotgun to my head, Gertie.”

“You are an uppity bastard, Custis Long. Do you want to spend the night? I can rent you a tent that’ll keep you dry if it rains tonight. Your horse looks like a dyin’ bag of bones, and a bag of oats and some cut grass is for sale.”

Longarm belched again and felt a little queasy in the stomach. “Tell you what, Gertie. I’ve had about all the fun and laughter I can stand being here with you. But I will pay you another dollar to hear what you have to say about the disappearance of Judge Quinn and his young wife a few weeks ago, along with how three river guides had their throats slit.”

“So
that’s
your game! You’re a fuckin’ lawman!” Gertie cackled and shouted, “Hey, Wade! We got ourselves a lawman come askin’ questions about that judge and his pretty little squat! And about them fellas that got drunk a few weeks ago, got fightin’ and cut each other’s throats!”

Longarm shook his head. “Gertie, are you tryin’ to tell me they all cut each other’s throats?”

“Why sure! They got drunker than loons right here at this bar, and when they started to quarreling, I threw them out. Next thing I know they are down on the beach
around our boats fightin’ and howlin’ like wild Indians on firewater. Why, me and my brothers just decided to let them have their fight and stay out of it, and the next mornin’, when we got up and went down to see ’em, they was all dead as dogs.”

“Gertie, I’ve heard some lame lies in my time, but that one just takes the cake. It really does. Surely you can come up with something better.”

“She’s tellin’ you how it happened, Lawman. Best not be callin’ my sister a liar.”

Longarm turned around to see the taller of the pair standing with an old Navy Colt pointed at him. “Are you Wade or Orvis?”

The tall man blinked. “Orvis. And I reckon you need to unbuckle that gun and let it drop to the floor.”

“Are you three planning on
robbing
me?” Longarm asked with surprise. “I’m a United States marshal, and if you don’t put that old Navy away right now I’m going to ram it up your skinny ass and pull the trigger.”

“Ha!” Gertie cried, scooping up a shotgun from somewhere behind the bar and cocking back the hammer. “Look at this stupid, uppity lawman! We’re holdin’ all the cards in this game, and he’s threatening’ to shove your gun up your ass, Orvis!”

“Maybe that rotgut he just drank already poisoned his brain,” Wade chortled.

“Mister Lawman,” Orvis said, all humor falling away, “with your left hand and usin’ your fingers only, lift that Colt that’s facin’ butt forward up and then drop it on the floor nice and easy.”

“Looks like a good gun,” Wade said, “probably worth fifteen, maybe even twenty dollars. And those boots and that hat…”

“Shut up,” Orvis ordered.

“Only tellin’ what I see,” Wade whined.

“Mister,” Orvis said, “I ain’t goin’ to ask you a second time to unholster that hog leg and then reach for the sky.”

Longarm knew that he had no chance, with Gertie at his back holding a shotgun and the man in front of him holding the Navy, so he did as he was told.

“Now,” Orvis said, “get down on your knees.”

“I already said my prayers,” Longarm told him, forcing a hard smile.

“Well, they ain’t bein’ answered, Mister Lawman. Now, do it!”

Longarm’s mind was racing. How in the world was he going to get out of this mess alive? “One question, if you don’t mind. Did the three of you kill the judge and his young wife and dump their bodies in the river?”

“What’s it your business to know?” Orvis demanded. “Could be you’ll wind up the same way.”

“So you
did
murder them both?”

“We murdered the judge, but the woman escaped and jumped into one of our boats to get away clean. She’d have drowned though ’cause she don’t know that big river and she didn’t look strong enough to handle a pair of oars. But damn she was pretty!”

“Shut up, Wade!” Gertie and Orvis both shouted at the same time.

“Oh,” Longarm said, trying hard to sound matter-of-fact, “I was almost certain that you’d robbed and killed the judge and his wife. Glad to hear that the woman got away. And what about the three river guides?”

“What about ’em?”

“Well,” Longarm mused, “my guess is that all of you were drunk and one of you geniuses slipped up and admitted to killing the judge and trying to kill his wife. Having done that, you had no choice but to kill those
river guides to keep them from telling people your secret.”

“I told you they slit each other’s damned throats!” Gertie screamed, jabbing the shotgun into Longarm’s spine.

Longarm nodded. “With a little help from Wade and Orvis, I’ll bet.”

“Mister, you are about to meet your maker,” Orvis growled. “But before you do, I’d like to know if any more lawmen are comin’ our way.”

“If I disappear, you can be sure of it,” Longarm told them.

“Well, Mister Lawman, you
have
to disappear,” Gertie said. “But I’d rather we spilled your blood and guts outside where the varmints will clean it up instead of right here where I’ll have to do it.”

“Sure,” Longarm said cryptically, “why mess up such a nice place as you have here?”

“You’ve got a smart mouth on you, Marshal,” Gertie hissed. “Gonna be a pleasure to toss your dead ass in the river. Boys, he’s wearin’ a nice watch and chain. I want that when you’ve taken care of him.”

“Enough talk,” Longarm said, stepping toward the door. “If I’m going to die, I’d like to get it over with.”

“And aren’t you the brave one,” Wade snarled. “Maybe we’ll just shoot some bullets into your balls and let you jump around a little before we put you out of your misery.”

Longarm swallowed hard. “You people are real thoughtful. Why don’t we get moving, because this hog sty you call a store and saloon is about to make me puke.”

“Get him out of here and get it done,” Gertie hissed.

Longarm knew that he had one chance and one chance only, and that was when he stepped through the door. If
he could step through it and use the double-barreled .44-caliber derringer attached to his watch fob, he could spin and shoot the closest one in the head and use his second shot to kill the other brother. Gertie and her shotgun were going to be tougher to kill because there was no way she could miss him at close range.

One thing for certain, Longarm had no intention of winding up being fish food like the late Judge Quinn and his pretty young wife, Mavis.

“Just one thing,” Longarm said as he walked between Wade and Orvis on his way to the door.

“And what the hell is that?” Wade demanded.

Longarm stepped through the doorway and spun on his heel, hand going for the hide-out derringer he always carried in his vest pocket. “This!”

The derringer had saved his life on many occasions, and now it came out of his pocket with well-practiced ease. The dull-witted Wade had been right behind him, but Longarm’s unexpected remark had momentarily distracted him. Longarm didn’t even try to aim but shoved the gun into Wade’s belly and unleashed his first shot. The retort sounded like the trunk of a big tree snapping in a very high wind.

“Ugggh!” Wade screamed, falling back into Orvis, who was right on his heels. Wade’s gun barked, but its bullet struck a porch post. Longarm grabbed the dying man to use as a shield and fired the derringer again almost point-blank into Orvis, who started backpedaling
into the store and crashed over a pickle barrel, spilling its brine across the floor to mix with his blood.

“Gawdamn you!” Gertie screamed, rounding the plank bar top with her single-barreled shotgun. “Damn you to hell!”

Longarm’s derringer was empty, and he knew he didn’t have time to scoop up one of the fallen brother’s pistols before Gertie would be hovering over him to unleash a killing blast. There being no alternative, he turned and ran like hell straight for the Colorado River.