Longarm #399 : Longarm and the Grand Canyon Murders (9781101554401) (5 page)

“Well, that does sound fascinating,” Heidi said, “but we really must get up to Lees Ferry. Custis…I mean Marshal Custis Long…is a federal marshal, and we’ve come to investigate the terrible murders that have taken place up by Lees Ferry.”

The clerk stared at Longarm. “You’re a lawman with…”

“With her?” Longarm asked, brow furrowed. “That’s right. But I’d prefer that you keep that piece of information to yourself. In fact, I
insist
on it.”

“Yes, sir! I mean, yes, sir, Marshal Long! My lips are glued.”

“If they aren’t, I’ll come back from Lees Ferry and sew them together with horsehair.”

The clerk paled and dipped his chin up and down rapidly.

When they were in their suite, Heidi turned on Longarm and said, “You really didn’t need to put such a fright into that clerk downstairs.”

“Oh, but I did,” Longarm countered. “And while we are on this subject, I need to say that I never let anyone know I’m a federal officer of the law.”

“And why not?”

“Because there are plenty of men that just hate law officers and some that would love nothing more than to put a bullet in my back.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I hope you do, Heidi. I really hope you try and remember that, because it will make my job easier and a damn sight safer.”

“I’ll remember.” She smiled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really do have to piddle!”

“Chamber pot is usually under the bed, or there may be a running toilet at the end of the hall in a place this fancy.”

“You’ve never stayed here either?”

“Nope. Like the fella at the train station, the Hotel Weatherford has always been a little rich for my wallet.”

“Not this trip it isn’t,” she said, blowing him a kiss and stooping to peer under their bed.

“Find it?”

She dragged out a porcelain chamber pot that was decorated with purple pansies. “How cute.”

“Use it,” he said, heading for the door to find them a bottle of whiskey and another of good chardonnay wine.

Longarm visited a livery that looked prosperous, and when he found the owner, a large man who smelled like a pile of ripe horse turds, and told the man that he wanted to rent a private coach, the liveryman laughed.

“I sure as hell won’t help you.”

Longarm frowned. “Mind telling me why not?”

“Because there is a stage that goes up to Lees Ferry and I can’t compete with them.”

“We’re in a hurry.”

“Yeah,” the man said, “I’ll just bet you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I
know
who you are, Marshal. And I’m not stupid. You’re in a hurry to get up there so you can investigate the murders and that missing judge and his young wife.”

“I guess you got me pegged,” Longarm said.

“There’s another thing, and that is that I don’t like anyone who wears a badge…especially a federal badge.”

“Fair enough,” Longarm said, turning on his heel and starting to leave.

“Hey, don’t you turn your back on me before I’m through talking!”

Longarm turned.

“Do you remember a man named Reece Whitfield?” the liveryman said with a snarl in his voice.

“Yeah, I shot the asshole dead about three years ago right here in Flagstaff.”

“Reece was my kid brother.”

“Come to think of it, I do remember that fat bastard smelled almost as bad as yourself.”

“You son of a bitch, you just
insulted
my dear dead brother!”

“I guess I did,” Longarm conceded. “Truth is, I’m starting to remember you now. You got away with a bank robbery while your brother took the blame for it and I hunted him down. Like you, he was stupid and thought he was a real bad fella, so he tried to pull a gun on me and I drilled him twice before he could even get the pistol out of his holster.”

The big liveryman’s mouth twisted down at the corners. “My brother would be alive now if it wasn’t for
you
!”

“I’m surprised,” Longarm said, “that someone in Flagstaff hasn’t shot you down.”

“No one has the balls to try.”

Longarm was wearing his sidearm, and he noted that this angry man had inched closer to a double-barreled shotgun that was leaning up against a wall. “Mister,” he said, “I can tell that you are nearly feeble-minded, and I can read your mind like a cheap dime novel, and I can tell you right now that you’ll be dead before you can pick that scattergun up.”

The liveryman glanced at the shotgun, which was almost within arm’s reach. “I guess you probably could
at that,” he said. “But I’m a patient man. I can wait for my time.”

“If that’s a threat, I won’t give you the time to wait.”

The liveryman raised his hands up near his shoulders. “You gonna gun me down? You gonna arrest me?”

“I’m considering it.”

The man grinned wickedly. “Sheriff Clyde Petrie is my cousin. You arrest me and take me to jail, then you’ll look like a fool. Clyde will laugh in your face and so will I.”

Longarm expected this was true. In his long time as a federal marshal, he’d often come up against local law officers who not only envied him for his much higher pay, but also considered him a rival. Local law officers resented any higher authority that entered their jurisdiction.

“It’s a long way up to Lees Ferry and the Grand Canyon,” the liveryman crowed.

“So I’ve been told. What’s your name?”

“Carl Whitfield.”

“Well, Carl, I can see that you and I are just not going to be doing business. And I’ve got a piece of advice that you ought to pay attention to.”

Carl hawked and spat a stream of brown tobacco juice between them. “Marshal, I sure as hell don’t want any of your damned advice.”

“Take it anyway,” Longarm said. “If you so much as cross my path, local law or not, I’ll put a bullet hole in you before you can bat an eye, and I’ll walk up and laugh in your pig face.”

Whitfield swallowed and spat again, all his teeth stained brown. “I’ll keep that in mind when we meet somewhere on the trail.”

“Does that mean that you’re going to try to ambush me on the way up to Lees Ferry?”

A craftiness crept into the man’s close-set eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, but that was your message.”

Whitfield paused and took a deep breath. “There’s a man named Clayton that lives just up the street. If the price is right, Otis Clayton will take you north in a wagon or he’ll rent you horses for the trip. If I were you, Marshal, I’d go see Otis and tell him I sent you his way. He’ll take care of you.”

“Is that right?”

“For a fact,” Whitfield said, smiling coldly.

“Is this fella named Otis Clayton by any chance related to you or the town marshal?”

Whitfield rubbed the stubble of his jowls. “Might be.”

Longarm shook his head. “Carl, my only regret here is that you didn’t make a grab for the shotgun. I’m sure that I’ll have the opportunity to kill you sooner rather than later.”

“I hear you have a yellow-haired beauty traveling with you,” Whitfield said. “She your whore?”

Longarm had been willing to put off this confrontation until another time. But because of this crude insult to Heidi, he decided that he just couldn’t wait until later.

Reversing his direction, Longarm reached across his belt and unholstered his Colt as he kept walking forward. Whitfield’s nasty grin dissolved and his eyes widened with fear. “Now, wait just a damned—”

Longarm didn’t give the man a chance to say another word as he slashed the barrel of his big Colt across Whitfield’s face, opening up a deep gash. Blood cascaded down the liveryman’s ugly face, and he staggered backward. Longarm went after him with fists and boots. He caught Whitfield with a wicked kick to the groin that caused the man to scream. When Whitfield’s dirty mouth
flew open in a howl, Longarm closed that mouth with a tremendous uppercut to the jaw that sent the big man backpedaling into the side of his barn. Longarm hammered Whitfield across the bridge of his nose and heard bone crunch. The liveryman collapsed on his knees, trying to cover his destroyed face.

Longarm stepped back and holstered his weapon. “You may own a livery, but you’re still the same piece of rotten trash as your kid brother. Next time we meet, I’ll kill you and think up a legitimate reason afterward. Is that crystal clear, you stinking piece of horse shit?”

Whitfield moaned, face a mask of blood.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Longarm said to the beaten man before walking away.

He did not go to see Otis Clayton but instead found the local stage station, where he met the owner, whose name was John Wallace. Wallace was middle-aged and of average size. He had a band of hair around his ears, but the top of his head was bald as a billiard ball and shiny. But what Longarm liked about Wallace was that the man looked him straight in the eyes when they talked, and he was no bragger.

“I operate a stagecoach to and from the Grand Canyon once a week.”

“It doesn’t leave until Wednesday and we can’t wait that long.”

“That’s only four days off. If I were you, I’d reserve a seat, and between now and then I’d visit—”

Longarm cut the man off but not in an offensive way. “I’m a deputy United States marshal from Denver and I have to get up to Lees Ferry right away on an investigation.”

“Oh.”

“Can you help me and my partner?”

“They sent
two
U.S. marshals all the way from Denver?”

“No,” Longarm said, knowing what he was about to say would sound foolish. “I’m traveling with my…uh, wife.”

Wallace hid his thoughts well. “Marshal, it’s none of my business, but I sure don’t understand why a man would take his wife up there to the Colorado River and that big old canyon. From what I understand, two men just had their throats cut and—”

“Listen,” Longarm said. “My situation is complicated.”

“I’d say that.”

“But here’s the thing, John. We need to go and we need to go tomorrow. Is there any way that you can help us?”

“I can’t take you up in the stagecoach because I already have passengers booked for next Wednesday. Some of them have money and have come a long, long way to visit the Grand Canyon. But what I can do is rent you a couple of good saddle horses and even a reliable pack animal…horse or burro. You’d have to provision yourself for the journey, of course, but you’d make good time once you were on the road.”

“If that’s the best that can be done, then we’ll do it,” Longarm decided, knowing that Heidi would not be pleased. He didn’t even know if she was able to ride a horse…especially for over a hundred miles. But she’d either do it or have to wait and take next Wednesday’s stagecoach, which might be the best thing anyway.

“I can show you a pair of animals that I think will serve you and your wife well. But I’ll warn you right up front,” Wallace said, “this is going to cost you a helluva lot of money.”

“How much?” Longarm asked, knowing that Heidi would foot the bill…unless she changed her mind and decided not to go north.

“How about a hundred and fifty dollars?”

“That sounds
way
too high.”

“One hundred for the rental and fifty for a deposit that you can have back on my good horses, a pack burro, and the saddles and outfit you’ll need. Oh, and I’ll throw in forty pounds of oats.”

Longarm knew that he had few other choices other than to wait for the regularly scheduled stagecoach run. “Fair enough…if I like the animals.”

“You’ll like them,” Wallace promised. “What you won’t like is the travel north. It’s tough and dangerous country. I won’t try to hide it…there are thieves and worse out there, and some of them are desperate enough to kill a man. I don’t even want to speak about what they would do to a pretty woman.”

“How do you know she’s ‘pretty’?”

John Wallace grinned. “Hell, this is still a small town. Don’t you imagine that when you two got off the train every man in town heard about how beautiful your companion was even before you got to the hotel?”

“I never gave the matter much thought,” Longarm confessed.

“Well, not only does everyone know that she’s a blond beauty, they are of the opinion that she isn’t really your wife.”

“Why would they decide that?”

“Because rich and beautiful women aren’t in the habit of marrying poor workingmen like ourselves.”

Longarm had to smile. “Seems like the people in Flagstaff don’t have much to do but gossip about other men’s business.”

Wallace grinned. “Like I said, it’s still a small town.”

“Let’s take a look at those animals you want to make your fortune on.”

“They’re right out in the back,” Wallace said. “And by the way, I remember you killed Reece Whitfield and done the town a big favor.”

“I might also have to kill his brother Carl.”

“That would be another huge favor. The man gets drunk and beats up on smaller folks. He’s full of anger and he’ll cheat anyone that doesn’t yet know him well.”

“Carl isn’t going to do much of anything for a few days.”

“Oh, and why is that?” Wallace asked.

“Because he’s not feeling well since we met up a short while ago.”

Wallace stared, but Longarm wasn’t in the mood to satisfy the man’s curiosity, so he headed out the door to see what kind of horses and pack animals the man had in mind to rent.

Longarm went back to the Hotel Weatherford, and when he entered the room, Heidi was reading a local newspaper while a Chinaman was filling a huge tub with buckets of steamy water.

“You got a bathtub moved in here?” Longarm asked.

“Sure. I thought you’d like one, and I’ve ordered some food and drinks to be brought up at five.”

“Must be nice to have money.”

“It is. Why don’t you start thinking about the proposition that I made you before we left Denver?”

“You mean the one about handing in my badge?”

“Yes, that one.”

Longarm removed his coat and hat and waited for the Chinaman to finish filling the tub. When the man was done, he bowed and Heidi gave him a few dollars, which pleased the Chinaman very much.

“He’s a nice little fellow,” Heidi said when they were alone. “He can’t speak a word of English, but he’s smart as anything and it was easy enough to let him know what I needed.”