Payback at Big Silver (24 page)

“As soon as we make the swap and Harper is safe, chop this Ranger down where he's standing,” Centrila said. “Leave this lousy wolf-turning
Sheriff Stone
for me.” He paused, seeming to consider the matter, then added, “That is, if it looks like I'm coming out ahead. If I get in trouble, blast him, of course.”

“In other words, remember who pays your wages,” Knapp put in quietly. The men looked at each other and nodded in agreement. They understood.

Knapp said just between him and Centrila, “What if Stone is still cuffed, like the Ranger said?”

Centrila gave a thin, faint grin.

“That would be his misfortune,” he said. Staring toward the sheriff's office, he added, “Besides, I've got a feeling he's not cuffed. That was just a ruse the Ranger came up with.” He looked Knapp up and down. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Knapp said, Rudabaugh right beside him.

“Let's go, then,” Centrila said, staring straight ahead at the sheriff's office.

The gunmen walked forward, the Cady brothers and Mae Rose a step behind. Each of the brothers kept a hand on Mae Rose's arm. On Centrila's right Knapp held a cocked rifle at port arms.

As they neared the front of the adobe-and-plank structure, Knapp gave Ferry and Baye a nod, telling them to spread out. The group of gunmen formed a half circle in the street in front of the sheriff's office with Centrila in the middle. The big erstwhile cattleman turned saloon owner pulled his suit coat back behind a shiny nickel-plated Remington holstered on his right hip. But before he called out, the Ranger opened the door slowly and stepped out onto the boardwalk.

“Here we are, Ranger,” Centrila said, “as agreed to.” As he spoke he noted that the Ranger's Winchester had been replaced by a short double-barreled shotgun he'd taken from the gun rack. “Now bring out my son and Bartow.”

The Ranger only stared at him. He gestured at the woman, the hood of the cape partially hiding her face.

“Let me see if she's Mae Rose Rossi,” Sam said.

Edsel reached around and pulled the woman up beside him; the Cadys let go of her arms. He pulled back the hood and revealed a swollen, badly beaten face that rouge and powder had done a poor job concealing.

The Ranger saw the damage and almost tightened his finger on the shotgun hammers, expecting Stone to throw open the door and shoot Centrila on the spot. After a second passed, he lightened his finger on the triggers, grateful that Stone was a man of his word.

“Are you all right, ma'am?” Sam asked.

“I've . . . been better,” Mae Rose said through cracked and swollen lips.

“You lied,” the Ranger said to Centrila, looking away from the battered woman's face.

Centrila pulled the hood back up onto Mae Rose's head and gave a smug grin.

“I might have lied a little,” he said. “You can expect some of that when it comes to
deal-making
, eh—am I right?” Still grinning, he looked around at his men for support. They nodded, agreeing with him. “After all, I understand that Harper has a bullet wound in his shoulder.”

“All right,” Sam said, as if conceding the matter. He gestured toward the front door. “Send her on in.” As he spoke he rested a hand on the door handle.

The Cadys stepped in to take the woman's arms, but Centrila stopped them.

“Wait a minute, what about Harper and Bartow?” he said to Sam.

“I take her in, I bring them out,” Sam said.

“Huh-uh, I don't like that,” said Centrila.

“Then we're back where we started,” Sam said coolly, his hand still on the door handle. “I see I'm outgunned. I get the woman inside, or you can all go back to your saloon and I'll send Harper and Bartow to you tied over their saddles. I shot him once, I can shoot him again.”

“Why, you no-good law dog . . .” Centrila caught himself and let his words trail.

“Easy, boss. I smell a trick in the works here,” Knapp said beside him.

“I say we start shooting,” Trent Baye put in, giving the Ranger a hard, searing stare. “This cur killed my cousin—”

“Shut up, both of you!” Centrila snapped, trying to get a grip on the situation. “It's not your son in there!” He reached over and pulled the woman forward. “All right, take her inside,” he said to the Cadys. “Come out of there with Harper and Lon Bartow, or I will have your hides!”

Have their hides?

The Cady brothers looked at each other, the two of them on the spot all of a sudden. Lyle started to say something, but the look on Centrila's face warned him against it. The two stepped onto the boardwalk and toward the door, the woman between them. Sam turned the door handle, ushered them in, then stepped inside behind them and closed the door.

•   •   •

Harper Centrila and Lon Bartow stood pressed against the bars watching intently, awaiting their release. They saw the Ranger drop a thick iron latch on the door, grab Lyle Cady and shove the short-barreled shotgun into his belly. In reflex Lyle turned the woman loose. She hurried away and huddled against the wall. Ignacio Cady raised his hands chest high, not wanting to see his brother cut in half by a shotgun blast.

“Don't shoot, Ranger!” he shouted.

“It's a double cross, Papa Edsel!” Harper shouted toward the front window. “Get me out of here!”

“Sheriff?” Sam called out. “Sheriff Stone . . . ?” Looking all around quickly, seeing no sign of the sheriff, he lifted both Lyle's and Ignacio's guns from their holsters and pitched them away. He shoved the brothers across the office, back against the cell and cuffed them to the barred door. “Stay back,” he warned Harper and Bartow as they tried to move closer, Harper still shouting to his father on the street. Sam heard fists pounding hard on the front door. He looked around once more for Stone, but the sheriff was gone.

“Get away from that door,” Sam warned, bracing the shotgun at his side. But the pounding continued a second longer until he heard Stone call out from the street.

“Here I am, Edsel Centrila,” the sheriff shouted, from somewhere farther back behind the gunmen.

Hearing the sheriff, Mae Rose started to move away from the wall. But the Ranger raised a hand, stopping her as he hurried to the shuttered front window.

“Stay where you are,” he said to her. He looked out through the gun port and saw Sheriff Stone facing off with the gunmen, no rifle, no shotgun, only his big Colt hanging in his hand.

“Here I am, Edsel,” Stone repeated, “you son of a bitch. I'm the one you came here for. Stop beating around the bush—let's start killing, just you and me!”

A tight tense silence fell over the street.

“That will suit me fine!” Centrila called out. He walked off the boardwalk back onto the dirt street, seeming to forget that his son, Harper, was still in the cell.

“Papa Edsel! Get me the hell out of here!” Harper shouted. He shook the bars with both hands. The Cady brothers stood helpless, one set of handcuffs looped through the bars, holding each of them by their wrists.

Sam saw the gunmen spread out toward the sheriff.

“Stone, you fool,” he said under his breath.

“Ranger, stop him!” Mae Rose shouted, knowing what was about to happen out there.

Without replying, Sam hurried to the door, threw the latch back and swung the door open.

The gunmen looked at him; so did Centrila, who cut his gaze to the Ranger for a quick glance, then back to Stone.

“Stay out of this, Ranger, you double-crossing cur,” he warned.

Sam looked at Stone, then at Ferry, Knapp, Rudabaugh and Trent Baye, the four of them ready to kill the lone lawman at Centrila's command.

“Not a chance,” he said.

“You don't belong here. Damn you, Ranger!” Centrila shouted, still facing Stone.

Sam gripped the shotgun, ready to fire.

“I'm the law, Centrila,” he called out. “You two have a grudge to settle, I'm right in the middle of it.”

“Then to hell with the law!” shouted Centrila.

“This is for cousin Bob, Ranger!” Trent Baye shouted suddenly out of the blue. He swung his rifle toward the Ranger as Centrila made his move on Stone. But before he got off a shot, the shotgun bucked in the Ranger's hands, sending a blue-orange streak of smoke and iron scraps through Baye's chest, his face, both shoulders.

Baye's hat flew from his head in a bloody spray of shredded felt and pieces of skull and brain matter. Wasting no time, the Ranger swung the loaded barrel at Charlie Knapp. But Knapp and Rudabaugh had seen the mess the shotgun had made of Baye. They dived for the cover of a water trough.

Centrila's shot hit Stone in his collarbone and sent the sheriff staggering backward, a shot from his big Colt firing down into the dirt. Making the mistake of thinking he'd killed Stone, Centrila swung his aim toward the Ranger, levering a fresh round into his rifle chamber.

Sam threw the shotgun aside and drew his Colt. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rudabaugh and Knapp, upon seeing him toss the shotgun away, rise from the water trough and start firing. Sam had to ignore Centrila for now.

“Kill him!” Rudabaugh shouted.

Crouched, the Ranger fired his Colt at Rudabaugh and saw him fall backward as a bullet sliced through his stomach. On his way down, Rudabaugh's rifle flew from his hands. The rifle hit Knapp and sent Knapp's shot flying wild. Before Knapp could recover and reaim, Sam put a bullet in his chest and saw him fall backward. As Knapp fell, Sam saw the front door fly open. Mae Rose ran out toward the fallen sheriff.

“Shep! Shep!” she screamed as she ran, in spite of swollen lips, her battered condition.

“Look out,”
Sam shouted at her, hearing Centrila's rifle fire, feeling the slice of the bullet rush past his head like an angry hornet. From inside the open door, Sam heard the
ping-ping
whine of the bullet ricochet twice off the iron bars. He heard the Cady brothers shriek in fear. He spun toward Centrila just in time to see Stone rise onto his knee and put a bullet through Centrila's chest. Centrila's rifle fell in the dirt beside him.

Sam looked all around, still crouched, his smoking Colt cocked, guiding him. He saw Donald Ferry's rifle lying abandoned in the dirt, and when he looked up, he saw the scared gunman racing away as fast as his boots could carry him. Heads ventured out of the doors of the Silver Palace. Burnt powder wafted on the air.

“You've killed him, Ranger, you son of a bitch,” Sam heard a voice call out from inside the open door. He straightened warily, backed his way to the open door and walked inside. Behind him on the street, Mae Rose helped the bloody sheriff to his feet. Supporting each other, they walked toward the open door.

Inside, Sam stepped over to where Ignacio Cady stood holding his free hand to his brother's bleeding forehead. Lyle's head bobbed limply on his chest, both of them held up by their wrists cuffed through the bars.

“Bullet graze, knocked him cold,” Ignacio said.

Sam just looked, his Colt slumped a little.

“Not him, damn you!” Lon Bartow cried out from inside the cell.

Sam looked around and saw Bartow kneeling on the floor, Harper Centrila's head held tight against him, a wadded bandanna pressed against the side of Harper's bloody neck.

“He's dead. He's dead sure enough,” Bartow said, rocking back and forth slightly as if comforting a child. “I hope this is enough for you,” he said accusingly, “you law-dog son of a bitch.”

Sam heard the sheriff and the woman's footsteps and half turned as they walked in. Stone, using Ferry's abandoned rifle as a walking cane, seated Mae Rose in his chair at his badly tilted desk. He stepped over to the Ranger, his left hand cupped to his bloody, broken collarbone, a sliver of white sticking up through the ripped skin.

“You—you shot him?” he asked the Ranger in a lowered voice.

“Huh-uh.” The Ranger shook his head and tipped his Colt toward a fresh gash Edsel Centrila's rifle shot had left on the iron bar after grazing Lyle Cady's head. “Ricochet,” he said quietly. He nodded out the door at the street where Edsel Centrila lay grappling in the dirt, but going nowhere.

“Lord God!” Stone said. “Edsel killed his own son.”

“Yeah,” Sam said, still in a lowered tone. “After all the men who've died. After all he went through just to get his payback on you.” He shook his head and let out a thin breath. “He ended up killing the person he was trying to protect to begin with.”

The two lawmen looked out and watched Centrila push himself up onto his knees. He struggled and raised the shiny Remington from his holster and waved it back and forth.

“Stone, it's not over!” he shouted. “Hell no, it's not! Ranger, send Harper and Bartow out here! You made a deal!”

Stone looked around at Bartow, at Harper's body and shook his head.

“This don't feel as good as it should,” he said.