Under a Texas Star (7 page)

"Thanks for the coffee," she said with a nod to the boys.

"You know," Hank said as they headed back through the stable, "these boys ain't gonna be too pleased when they find out you're with the Ranger."

"I don't suppose so. Thanks for not saying anything."

Hank shrugged. "Your business, not mine. Just don't take their rambling too seriously."

Marly returned the shrug. "Ranger's business, not mine. I just like to hear people talk."

Jase pulled out his watch and checked the time. The latest of his many visitors were tw
o men claiming to be Strothers' deputies―a middle-aged man and his nephew. Neither inspired him to revise his opinion of Strothers' intelligence. He suspected that Strothers had chosen them for their compliancy, not brains.

"Thank you, gentlemen," he said,
cutting into the older man's diatribe against anyone who didn't welcome the law into Fortuna.

Since neither had taken the initiative to keep the office open, nor had they looked into the murder of their employer, it was hard to take either of them seriously.

"If I ever need your particular talents, I'll keep you in mind."

Reluctantly, the pair was ushered out the door.

Unfortunately, they weren't the last of Fortuna's citizens looking for an excuse to check out the interim marshal. Since no one wanted to c
ommit to being friendly, his visitors had to find excuses to come to the office. Most were pretty flimsy. In an effort to maintain goodwill, he tried to deal with them all. After an hour of being interrogated―not too subtly most of the time―he was sick of
it.

Out of this group, a well-dressed man stepped to the fore. He removed his shallow crowned hat with a sweeping gesture and offered an immaculately clean and manicured hand.

"Marshal Strachan, allow me to introduce myself. Chet Winters, banker. I have some urgent business to discuss, if you can spare the time."

Jase took the outstretched hand and was surprised by the man's firm grip. Winters dressed like a dandy, but he pressed flesh like a working man. Jase ushered the man into his office and closed the door, assuming the banker would prefer privacy.

"So, what can I do for you, Mr. Winters?"

"Keep the peace in Fortuna," the older man said with a negligent wave. "Discourage bank robbers, that sort of thing."

Winters had a pleasant face and an easy smile. Jase placed him around fifty years of age, mostly by the lines around his eyes and the steel gray hair. Otherwise, he was trim enough for a younger man.

"Coffee?" Jase offered.

"I think dinner would be more in order. That's why I'm here. My wife is expectin
g me home or I'd invite you out. I reckoned you needed help getting free if you were ever going to eat today―or do anything else. Perhaps tomorrow we could meet?"

"A pleasure, sir."

"Good," Winters said. "Now, I do think we better leave through the back, d
on't you?"

Jase locked up and grabbed his rifle and a box of ammunition before following Mr. Winters out the back door. Then they shook hands and went their separate ways.

The banker continued down The Avenue, presumably to his home, while Jase cut through The Haven's backyard to the stables.

"You just missed Landers," the stable boy said.

Leaving a message for his erstwhile assistant to join him at The Oasis, Jase hurried across the road before he could be intercepted by anyone else.

Chapter 6

After leaving a message for Jase, Marly headed over to The Oasis. The cowboys had offered her sandwiches at The Haven, but she didn't feel comfortable about accepting when she only had a few cents to contribute to the bill. Watching them eat, however, had given her an appetite.

The hardened gamblers were already in the casino. Otherwise, it was quiet. A couple of ranchers sat near the windows and a lone gentleman in a black frock coat sat alone, as far away as possible from the other tables. There was a slightly sinister look to the man.

Squinty eyes followed Marly across the room, inspiring her to make a beeline toward the bar. There, at least, was a familiar face.

"Waiting for the marshal?" Arnie asked.

She nodded, glancing over her shoulder at the lone man.

"Oh, don't worry about Pervis," Arnie said, smiling. "He's just curious. Trouble is, he lost his spectacles a couple of weeks back and he don't see too good. Been waiting for his new pair to come in by mail. Hasn't done his business much good."

"What does he do?"

The bartender rubbed his stubbly chin. "He's the barber."

Marly stifled a laugh.

"Appreciated your help this morning," he said. "Why don't you set up here at the bar and I'll see if I can't round up a couple of sandwiches for you. My treat."

Her stomach growled in response.

Jase walked into The Oasis and found his protégée on a bar stool, a mug of coffee in her hand and a mound of sandwiches stacked in front of her.

Marly saw him approaching and smiled.

Arnie waved. "Want a coffee, Marshal? Or a beer?"

"Coffee is fine. You know, Landers, you're a little young to be hanging out at bars."

"Oh, he's fine, Marshal." Arnie set a mug down in front of Jase. "This time of day The Oasis is as respectable as it gets, excepting the casino side. I won't let him drift over there."

Jase wasn't that concerned about Marly's safety in this familiar place, but he felt it was part of his role to play the father figure in public.

"Where's your carbine?" he asked his charge.

"Checked it with me, Marshal," Arnie replied. "House rules. Lawmen excepted, of course."

"Arnie's been telling me about Fortuna," Marly said, grinning.

"Really," Jase replied, raising a brow in Arnie's direction.

The bartender left to sell more drinks to the gamblers.

"Did you know that The Oasis is built on the ruins of a Spanish mission?" she asked. "The mission was destroyed by Apaches, along with the original Haven, which means that The Haven and the mission are the oldest buildings in the settlement because the dance hall came later."

Jase had to work at keeping his smile from betraying his amusement at her newfound enthusiasm for Fortuna.

"Anyway, that was the last time Fortuna was successfully attacked," she explained. "The Bakers and Egans came and soon afterward the settlement grew from an outpost to a town. Those two families are pretty important around here. Cornerstones of the community. However, it was the Businessman's Committee that asked the state to appoint a marshal." She popped the rest of a sandwich in her mouth. "Headed by the banker and Miz Jezebel."

The little devil on Jase's shoulder that was just a mite jealous of how easily Marly found supporters was tempted to tease her with the information that Jezebel had asked him to come to Fortuna
before
Strothers was appointed. He mentally pushed the devil aside and pretended this was all news to him.

"When you got a place like this," he said, looking around, "you want enough order to keep it from being broke up. Makes sense the banker would want a marshal. I've met Mr. Winters already. Friendliest face outside The Oasis. The others I met today are curious. Wary too. Don't think they mind law so much as they don't like this murder business. Protective of Egan, too."

Marly washed down another mouthful of food with coffee.

"They may not mind the law," she said, "but I bet they didn't like Strothers much. Seems he applied justice somewhat unevenly. At least, that's how some look at it."

Jase's eyebrow lifted.

"Some say there's a connection between Miz Jezebel bringing in the marshal and The Haven getting picked on."

"You've been busy, Marly."

The discussion was dropped when Arnie came back to refill their cups. After he left again, they finished the plate of sandwiches in silence, then went back to the stables

The stable boy had anticipated them and had Trouble and Grandee ready. He had also taken care of Marly's holster, securing it to her saddle. Marly nodded her thanks. Jase showed his appreciation with a couple of coins.

He wanted to follow Strothers' route the night of the murder. He knew from Jezebel that Strothers always paraded down Main Street on his way out of town. Coming back, especially if he was trail-worn, he tended to use the back roads.

Jase and Marly rode the length of Main Street from livery to churchyard. On the way past The Haven, the men lounging on the porch stood and glared at them. One spat a long stream of tobacco-stained spittle and hit Trouble on the flank.

The horse was startled, but Marly kept him under control. Jase caught her eye and she turned away quickly, biting her lower lip. He didn't press her until they were leaving town.

"You wanna share somethin' with me?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Don't want to, but I should. Those cowboys didn't know I was with you. I was listening to them gossip. Now they probably think I was spying on them."

"Did any of them admit to killin' Strothers?"

"No."

"Then they'll get over it."

Marly couldn't fault his logic, so she set aside the incident.

Once clear of the houses, they picked up the pace and headed west, toward the Egan and Baker ranches. Thanks to Arnie, she knew that they'd pass the smaller Circle-X  Ranch. The road had a right-of-way through the property that acted as the boundary between Egan's Lazy E ranch and Baker's Bar B.

This was where the murder occurred.

The road dipped into a gully and there was just enough of a bend to it to create blind spots in any direction. By report, Strothers would have been travelling back to town.

Jase and Marly dismounted and approached the scene on foot.

After almost two weeks and regular traffic, Marly reckoned there wasn't much sign left to read. It was easy to deduce the most likely location of the ambush, however.

Jase climbed up to that spot.

"This place has been used by at least two people several times," he said. "One spent a fair bit of time waitin'. He passed the time whittlin'. Take Trouble and ride 'round to the other side. Go back about a quarter mile, then ride up the trail."

Marly was off. Riding up the road, she scanned the ground for anything that might help Jase. On the way back, she tried to put herself in Strothers' place. He probably hadn't been expecting trouble.

Even knowing where to look, she couldn't see Jase. And it was broad daylight. When she rounded the bend, she shivered involuntarily, spurring Trouble to quicken his pace.

A moment later, Jase jumped out behind her. This spooked Trouble. The horse kicked dust into his face as he rolled to his feet, coughing.

Marly reined in and turned back, passing the canteen to Jase.

"Thanks," he said, after taking a drink. "Athletic sort, our murderer." He handed back the canteen and beat the dust from his chaps. "And a cigar smoker. Found a butt up there while you were gone. Did you see anythin'?"

She shook her head. "You had good cover. Makes me wonder, why a knife? Why not shoot Strothers? Wasn't the moon full then? It's a waning crescent now. He would have been an easy target."

"To get a good shot, I would've had to stand up."

"Still, it would have to be easier."

"For you. For me too." He rubbed his hip as he walked beside Trouble. "I'd say our murderer was more comfortable with a knife than a rifle. Besides, Strothers was a lightnin' draw. If the murderer was local, he would've known that."

"But he'd be shooting up his target. And lightning draw doesn't mean amazing accuracy."

Jase chuckled. "As a matter of fact, he wasn't the most accurate marksman when I knew him. A man as quick as Strothers can be mighty intimidatin'. Folks will attribute all kinds of things to a man who can get off the first shot. Anyhow," he swung up into his saddle, "Strothers is dead. We know a bit more about how. Now we have to work on who and why."

Marly pushed her hat back and wiped the perspiration from her face. "He was killed on his way back to town. Where was he coming from?"

"Far as we know, he was just on patrol. If he was, chances are he'd do a circuit. Up ahead there's a trail that crosses the road, then curves back onto the boundary trail, which we just crossed."

"I could take one way and you could take the other."

He hesitated.

"We could meet up ba
ck here," she added. "We're not far from town."

"Okay. If you have any trouble―other than that horse of yours―fire three shots in the air."

They turned and went back up the road.

On the way through the gully, Marly had to shake off the feeling she was bein
g watched. For a moment, when they came to the trail crossing, she almost suggested that they ride together. But she shook off the feeling and accepted Jase's admonition to be careful.

After an hour of following the meandering track, she found a pond. She stopped to let Trouble have a drink and to fill up the canteen.

"This is private property."

She turned toward the voice, carbine ready. A young girl rode toward her. She wore a dusty-rose riding habit and rode sidesaddle. Her hair hung in blonde ringlets that framed a face that was pretty, in a china doll way. She was about sixteen years of age.

The infamous Amabelle Egan?

"Sorry, miss," Marly said, lowering her rifle. "I didn't mean to stray onto your land."

"Well, you did," the girl said coldly.

"I said I was sorry. There's no need for you to get rude." Marly swung expertly into the saddle. "See, I'm going."

"Wait!"

"Why? I thought I was trespassing."

"I just want to know who you are and what you're doing here."

Marly tipped her hat. "Good day, Miss Amabelle."

By way of making his own comment, Trouble kicked up a clump of earth, causing Amabelle's horse to shy. While the girl was busy reigning in her nervous horse, Marly followed the curve of the pond. She was able to look back, without seeming as if she was doing so. Amabelle glowered at her in an unusually inhospitable manner, which seemed odd. Most folks didn't grudge a stranger
or
his horse a drink of water.

By chance, Marly found a little used track leading away from the pond. Following it, she came to a promontory. There was a small clearing with a footpath leading to the top of the rise. She had enough tracking skill to see that a horse had been tethered there repeatedly, though not very recently.

She dismounted, secured Trouble and walked up the footpath.

Like the heroes in the pulp fiction she'd been reading, she ducked down when she reached the top, so not to present an outline on the horizon. She had a clear view of the pond and surrounding country. From this spot, she could see Amabelle heading home and the Egan place in the distance.

The large ranch house stood proudly on high ground, with the barns, sheds and bunkhouses grouped a discrete distance away. A wood lot covered the hill between the house and the pond. A bridle trail wended its way through the woods and up the hill.

Amabelle appeared intermittently as she rode up the path, then was clearly visible as she crossed the open ground leading to the stables.

"A perfect lookout over a perfect meeting spot," Marly said.

Strothers could have waited here to meet Amabelle at the pond, either by
accident
or appointment. He could have scouted ahead to make sure she was alone. With a modicum of care, he wouldn't be visible from the lookout.

Marly noticed something on the ground.

A cigar butt, half buried in the dirt.

So far as she knew, Strothers wasn't a cigar smoker. That being the case, if he had used this lookout, he was not the only one.

Jase didn't look it, but he was a man on the edge. On the outside, he was the picture of a laconic cowboy slouching against a tree and watching his horse graze on the scrub across the road. Inside, he was alternately cursing his decision to let Marly ride on alone and praying that nothing had happened to her.

"You should have known she'd be late," he muttered. "She's always late."

For a moment, his mouth pursed in a hard line.

Marly wasn't the first kid he'd used in an investigation. Stable hands, runners and busboys made excellent spies. No one paid any attention to them as they plied their trade and surreptitiously picked up information. A few coins and the knowledge they were helping a Texas Ranger were generally enough to get their cooperation. A few had seen the back of someone's hand as a result. One boy had seen worse. That tough, smart boy was a Ranger now.