Nest of Vipers (9781101613283) (3 page)

FOUR

Brad looked at the money in Blaine's hand and felt something squirm in his stomach. Money was something he was often short of and now was no exception. But a bribe? A bribe for what? Or was this just one of Harry Pendergast's wicked jokes? Or Blaine's?

“A bribe,” Brad said, “usually means there are a lot of strings attached. Are you really trying to bribe me for something?”

Blaine's hard stare never faltered.

“Harry told me you had a hard head and were stubborn as a Missouri mule, so I thought if I waved some greenbacks at you, you might be inclined to listen to what I have to say. Money talks.”

“Well, you got my attention, Blaine, but unless I know why you're offering me money right upfront, I guess my attention span is about as short as a jackrabbit's tail.”

“Harry also said you talked straight, so I'll get to the point.”

“Make it short,” Brad said.

Blaine continued to hold the money up in the air as if it were a temptation to hold Brad's interest.

“Harry wants you to come to Denver. He's got a case that's baffled him and me.”

“That's his problem. I told Harry that I quit the detective business. I'm a cattle rancher, not a detective.”

“He told me you might say that. He knows you no longer want to work for him, but he says this is urgent. And, it is.”

“Well, he has you working for him. You take the case.”

“Actually, I'm a horse breeder. I belong to an outfit called the Colorado Horse Breeders Association. I was hired by them to retrieve some stolen horses and capture the horse thieves. But the situation got worse and I took our case to Pendergast. He put me on retainer. So, I work for both my association and Harry's detective agency.”

“A man can't serve two masters, Blaine.”

“Which is similar to your situation, isn't it?”

“My situation?”

“You're a cattle rancher and have worked as a detective for Pendergast.”

“Yeah, I did. But I quit the agency. Now I'm just a cattle rancher.”

“Maybe I can appeal to your sympathy, if not your wallet,” Blaine said.

“Sympathy?”

“We, and by that I mean myself and members of my association, are losing good horseflesh to a gang of organized thieves. And we don't know why. If your cattle were rustled, you'd want to catch the rustlers, right?”

“Sure,” Brad said. “And horse thieving is a hanging offense anywhere in this country.”

“If you'll come to Denver, I'll give you each five hundred dollars right now, on the spot. Just talk to Harry, that's all I ask. If you don't want to take on the job, the money's yours to keep. Now, how's that for an offer?”

There was a long silence among the three men. Julio stared at the money, and the figure of five hundred dollars loomed huge in his mind. It was more money than he had ever seen at one time. He swallowed hard and it was all he could do not to salivate.

Brad ran the amount over in his mind. He had just laid out cash for three head of Brahman cattle and that put him in some jeopardy. He had hands to feed and not enough cattle to sell in the Kansas markets. He was just starting out and had payrolls to meet. The cattle would pay off, eventually, but the honest truth was that he was short of cash. Still, he was afraid of being roped in by Harry and forced to do a job while his ranch went to pot. Besides, he had promised Felicity that he wouldn't leave her alone again.

“It's a mighty tempting offer, Blaine, but I can't leave my ranch right now. I just bought these cattle and have a lot to do, matching my cows with this Bramer bull and those cows with my Hereford bull. I got to find new pasture and build fences and grow hay for the winter. I have a lot of responsibility.”

“I know that, Brad, and so does Harry. All I'm asking is that you come to Denver and talk to us. Harry is willing to pay for your time. You'd stay only a day or so and if you turn us down, you can come back and tend to your ranch with money in your pocket.”

“Why do they want to hire me?” Julio asked.

“It's a big job. Fact is, Harry thinks it's going to take three of us to track down these horse thieves and shut them down.”

“Three?” Brad asked.

“You, Julio, and me,” Joe said.

Brad was struck dumb. For several seconds he was speechless.

“Harry's been drinking too much peach cordial,” Brad said finally. “I work alone. He knows that.”

“Not on this case. It's too big.”

“How big?” Brad asked.

“These thieves aren't just stealing one or two or three horses. They're cleaning out entire stables.”

“You check with the U.S. Army?” Brad asked. “They buy horses.”

“Those horses aren't going to the military,” Joe said.

“Where, then?”

Blaine shrugged. “We don't know. That's why Harry is making this offer. Five hundred apiece for you and Julio, just to listen to him for five minutes in Denver.”

“I will go there, Brad,” Julio said. “That is a lot of money.”

“It is a lot of money,” Brad agreed. “But it's money that stinks to high heaven. I know how persuasive Harry is, and I just don't want to do any more detective work for him.”

“I will do any kind of work for five hundred dollars,” Julio said.

“It has to be both you and Brad,” Blaine said. “Look, gents, I'm not just the messenger here. I have a stake in finding these horse thieves. I had a dozen of my best horses stolen out of my stables. Fine horses. Horses I can't replace.”

“That may be so,” Brad said. “But I don't have a stake in this. I'm a cowman. That's it.”

“Do you own horses?” Blaine dropped his hand but held on to the money.

“A few. Enough for a remuda once we make our first trail drive up to Salina.”

“If you have horses, then you're a target for these thieves.”

“I doubt it,” Brad said. “Look, Joe, I appreciate Harry's offer, but I'm turning it down. Julio and I are going to drive these Bramers up to the ranch and get to work breeding new stock. I wish you luck. Tell Harry I said howdy.”

Blaine stuffed the bills back in his shirt pocket. It appeared to Brad that he had given up and was accepting the fact that he and Julio would not go to Denver to see Pendergast.

“All right,” Blaine said. “I won't push you no more, Brad. Mind if I ride back to your ranch with you? I'd like to see your spread, maybe take a look at your horses.”

Brad was taken aback by the offer.

“You're wasting your time. I'm not going to change my mind.”

“I know. I promise I won't bring up the subject again. I'd just like to ride up with you and get to know you better.”

Brad felt a worm of suspicion begin to crawl through his brain. But he shrugged and looked at Julio.

“I reckon you can ride up with us. Ain't much to see, but we can put you up and feed you.”

“Good,” Blaine said. “I'm tired of hardtack and jerky. It'll be a pleasure to meet your missus.”

Brad looked at Julio again.

“I guess we can use some help driving these Bramers up, can't we, Julio?”

Julio frowned. “I would rather go to Denver and make five hundred dollars,” he said.

“Joe, go get your horse,” Brad said. “We'll see how good you are at driving cattle.”

Blaine laughed.

“I'm better with horses,” he said. “But, I'm ready to try my hand at wrangling cattle.”

Fifteen minutes later, Julio was leading the roped cow while Brad and Joe drove the bull and other cow through the sunlit town and headed for the road to Brad's ranch.

It seemed to Brad that Julio was jerking on the rope more than was necessary.

Five hundred dollars was a lot of money, not only to Julio but to him as well.

But, with Harry Pendergast, it would be blood money. And a bribe was a bribe, no matter who was paying it out.

FIVE

The sun rose in the sky and was near its zenith when Julio rode into the valley. Caesar looked around as he followed the other cow. He swung his head from side to side as he surveyed the pasture with its lush carpet of emerald grass shining in the golden rays of the sun. His stance and attitude were aggressive, but he saw no enemy, no bull to challenge him.

Brad looked toward the house and the corral. He stiffened in the saddle when he saw that the corral was empty and the gate open.

The door of the house was open, too, and there was no smoke rising from the chimney.

“Where do you want these cows?” Julio asked.

“Just let 'em graze,” Brad said. “They won't go far.”

“Nice spread,” Blaine said. “That your house yonder?”

Brad didn't answer. He felt a crawling sensation on his back, and his stomach filled with a swarm of winged insects. He glanced over at the barn and the bunkhouse, then saw the silent cabin where Julio lived with his wife, Pilar.

Something was wrong. The air still held its morning chill as the breeze blew down from the snow-capped mountains high on the skyline beyond the valley.

Julio rode up to the head of the cow and slipped the rope from around its neck. Caesar and the two cows began to graze.

“Boy, Brad's sure in a hurry to see his wife,” Blaine said.

Julio looked in Brad's direction. A look of puzzlement etched itself in the lines of his face. He saw the empty corral, the open gate.

Then he looked toward his own cabin. It was beyond the barn and bunkhouse. Pilar should have opened the door and come out, but the door was closed. The door to Brad's house was open, but Felicity was nowhere to be seen.

“I think he has a worry,” Julio said. “It is too quiet and there are no horses in the corral.”

Julio turned his horse and galloped toward his log cabin.

Blaine sat his horse, bewildered. Then he put spurs to its flanks and rode toward Brad's log house. Something was surely amiss. He braced himself for whatever unknown events were yet to come.

Brad swung out of the saddle before his horse, Ginger, had come to a full stop. He hit the ground at a run and dashed through the open door of his home.

He stepped inside to glimpse an unimaginable horror. Coals glowed a pulsating orange-red in the fireplace. On the floor lay Felicity, sprawled on her back, a gaping wound in her neck. Brad rushed over to her and kneeled next to her naked body. He touched her bleached face and it was cold to his fingers. Tears welled up in his eyes and his body drained of energy as it went limp, as if all the muscles had suddenly vanished so that his body had become weak and useless.

He sobbed as he lifted her head to his chest and pressed her cold white face against his chest. A darkness flooded his brain as he rocked back and forth, squeezing his wife's lifeless body against his own as if he could infuse it with life.

“Oh, Felicity,” he whispered. “What have they done to you?”

Blaine stood in the doorway, blocking the light. He saw Brad rock back and forth with a dead woman in his arms. He stepped inside and walked over to Brad. He put a hand on his shoulder but knew that it was little comfort to a man in the terrible grip of grief.

He lifted his hand and squatted next to Brad. He saw the slash in the woman's neck, the dull frost on one open eye. The sight tore at him, and his throat constricted as bile roiled in his stomach and tears stung his eyes.

“Joe,” Brad said. “She's dead. My Felicity is dead.”

Blaine could not bring himself to speak. His throat ached with every muscle in his neck taut and turning to cold iron.

“I—I can't let her go,” Brad sobbed. “I just can't let her go.”

Brad crumpled over, and Felicity's head touched the floor. Brad fell across her naked midriff and let the tears rush down his face. She was ice cold and her body was turning stiff, and his nostrils filled with the smell of blood. Filled with the terrible aroma of death.

Blaine saw the torn blue nightgown and the coagulating pool of blood on the floor. He could not look at the dead woman, nor at Brad. He was sick to his stomach and powerless to offer any comfort by either word or deed. So he stood there, like a mourner at a funeral. He did not know Brad's wife at all, and he had just begun to know something about Brad himself. It was not a good start to a friendship.

Brad got to his feet, bent over, and lifted the body of Felicity in his arms.

“I'm going to take her to our bedroom,” Brad said huskily.

Blaine nodded. “If there is anything I can do?” he said.

“No. I'll take care of her. I'm going to wash and dress her.”

“Brad, I'm sorry. So sorry.”

Brad choked and couldn't speak. He carried Felicity down the hall. He saw the coffeepot and the spilled coffee that had stained the flooring.

She must have been in the kitchen when they came in on her, he thought. He entered the bedroom and laid his wife's body on the unmade bed. He closed her eyes with his fingers and began to weep softly as he looked at her frail naked body, the horrible gash in her throat.

As he stood there, his grief slid away and a slow anger began to boil in him. The anger was on the verge of developing into full-blown rage, but he calmed himself and turned away and walked out to the hallway. He picked up the coffeepot and walked into the kitchen.

He looked at the cupboard that was directly opposite the hallway.

There was a bullet hole in the cabinet door. He walked over, opened it, and saw the shattered plates. There was another hole at the back of the cupboard.

His heart chilled.

In his mind's eye he could picture Felicity in the kitchen, with a pot of coffee in her hand. She had walked down the hall and someone had fired a shot over her head. She must have been terrified. But she would have fought the man who attacked her. Man or men. She would have fought to the death, and that is probably what had happened.

His anger boiled up again and he had to take a deep breath to keep his rage in check.

He forced himself to pick up kindling next to the stove and open the iron door. There were coals inside, and he laid the sticks of wood over these, then bent down to blow on the embers.

A lick of flame appeared and he blew on it some more until the wood caught and flames ranged over the entire stack of kindling.

He found a pot in one of the lower cupboards and set it on the counter. He lifted the water pitcher and felt its weight. He poured some water into the kettle and set it on the stove.

Just then, he heard a commotion in the front room. He peered down the hall.

Julio stomped in with Pilar. Blaine rose to meet them, and Brad saw their shadowy silhouettes blend and separate. He heard Blaine speak in low tones to the couple.

Then, he heard Pilar let out a scream of anguish.

A moment later, she ran down the hall and stopped at the bedroom door.

She went inside and then screamed again. Louder this time. Brad went into the room and clasped her shoulders in his arms.

“I'm going to wash her up and dress her,” he told Pilar.

She buried her face in her hands and deep sobs racked her small body.

“I will do it,” she said. Then she dropped her hands and looked up at Brad. “Let me wash and dress her. Please.”

“Yes, Pilar. She would like that.”

“What happened?” She turned to look at him as he stepped back.

“I don't know. Horse thieves, I reckon.”

“I have much sorrow,” she said. “My heart is broken. I had much love for Felicity.”

“I know, Pilar,” he said and felt that his words were lame. He shook his head as she shooed him away.

“You go,” she said. “I will make her look pretty again.”

He began to sob then, and hung his head as he stumbled out through the door and walked down the hallway to the front room.

Julio stood there dumbstruck, his face a bronze mask that seemed rigid with the sadness of centuries. A young face suddenly turned old and hard. Yet his eyes swam with tears and teardrops coursed down over the faint vermilion embedded in his flesh, a reminder of his Indian heritage and the grief of a race that had been mixed and maltreated for hundreds of years.

“Cuanto lament lo que ha pasado,”
Julio said in Spanish, in the tongue of his people, words that came from a deep place inside him. “I lament what has happened.”

“Pilar is going to wash and dress Felicity,” Brad said.

Julio rushed to him and threw his arms around him. He lay his head on Brad's chest.

“Yo tengo mucho dolor para ti y Felicity,”
he said, and there were tears in his voice and Brad felt the sadness of the man as he sobbed against his chest.

“
Yo sé
, Julio,”
Brad said. “
Estoy lleno de tristessa.
I know,” he said. “I am filled with sadness.”

“Pilar,” Julio said as he broke off his embrace and stepped back, “was in the barn. She milked the Guernsey cow and heard the men. She heard the screams of Felicity. She heard a gunshot. She had much fear and hid in the stall. But she saw them. She saw the men.”

“How many?” Brad asked.

“Three. There were three of them. When they came out of the house, they stole all the horses. They stole Felicity's mare, Rose. She saw them drive the horses up the mountain. She had much fear. She has much fear now.”

“Did she get a good look at the men?” Brad asked. “Did she hear any of their names?”

“I do not know. She worried about Felicity and watched the house for a long time. She was afraid to go in the house. She ran to our house and locked the door and hid in the closet. When I shouted her name, she came out of the closet and unlocked the door.”

Blaine cleared his throat, but did not say anything right away.

Julio and Brad heard the noise and turned to look at Blaine.

“Do you think . . .” Brad muttered to Blaine.

“Likely the same bunch I was tellin' you about, Brad,” Blaine said. “It's just too bad that your wife was here, all alone. I'm deeply sorry.”

Brad's jaw hardened. His eyes slitted and he took a deep breath, held it for a second or two.

“Joe,” he said, finally, “when I've buried my wife, I will ride with you to Denver and talk to Harry. This changes everything for me.”

“For me, too,” Julio said.

Blaine stood up from the chair he had been sitting in and folded his arms across his chest.

“It's your decision,” he said. “The offer still stands. And, I think you'd be a big help in solving these crimes.”

“I will track down the bastards who killed my wife and stole my horses, if it takes me a lifetime,” Brad said. “I want to see them all hang for this, if for nothing else.”

Blaine dropped his arms to his side and raised his head slightly.

“I'm very sorry about the situation that has led to this. Though I know Harry will be pleased you're coming on board,” he said. “And, so am I.”

The three men stood there in silent communion, all feeling the grief that filled the house and thinking ahead to the time when they would confront the killers and send them all to the gallows.