Killers Never Sleep, page 22
“Of course not,” Trammel said, “but I don’t know how much more this town can take. The mayor got them to trust me to keep them safe. They won’t trust me after this, and I can’t blame them. Mahaffey said he’ll hit us again and I believe him. There’s no reason for him not to, and there’s not much I can do to stop him.”
“You can try to track him come morning,” Hagen offered. “With me laid up and Blake in no condition, Hawkeye could track them.”
“I can’t let him risk it,” Trammel said. “If they grabbed him, they’d use him against me. All I can do is react to whatever Mahaffey does next and it’s impossible to win that way. One more attack, and the people will revolt against the closest target. Me.”
It was at times like these that Hagen regretted that he had never been able to get Trammel to think like a gambler. He saw the world in black and white. Something was either lawful or illegal to him. A man was either a criminal to be charged or a civilian in need of his protection. There was only right and wrong and no room for any consideration to the contrary. Such a philosophy limited the way he viewed a problem.
“You can’t beat men like Mahaffey by throwing something in their way, Buck,” Hagen said. “They’re used to hitting whatever’s in front of them until it breaks or buckles. They’re good at it, too. And when you find yourself up against a man like that, you have to just let it happen. But you’ve got more of an edge than you think.”
“Yeah,” Trammel said. “The only edge I see is the one right against my throat.”
“The same one you’ve had all this time. The same one you had when Dib Bishop gave you Mahaffey’s demands. You’re still holding the same cards you had then. You still have something they want. You have Ben Washington. And the only way you might be able to stop them is if you make them risk what they want most.”
Hagen watched a new idea dawn on Trammel’s face. Many discounted his intelligence due to his toughness and size, but Hagen had seen how quickly the big man could catch on to a notion once it was presented to him properly. Just as Hagen had presented it to him now.
“You mean I should use Washington as a shield, don’t you.”
“In a way. And if you’ll pull up a chair, I’ll tell you how I would pull it off if I were in your boots.”
Trammel picked up the chair and placed it beside the examination table. “Oh, you’re already in this right along with me, Adam. The whole town is.”
“All the more reason why you should sit down and listen, for none of us have a moment to lose.”
* * *
George Mahaffey could tell by the way Earnshaw was frowning that his inventory of their situation was dire. He beckoned Mahaffey to follow him away from the small cook fire they had built.
Earnshaw kept his voice low as he said, “Each man’s got about twenty bullets between them, more or less. That includes bullets for their rifles and their pistols.”
Mahaffey could not believe the number was that low. “What about what was in the dead LeBlanc man’s saddlebags? Jim or Joe or whatever his name was.”
“I already factored that in.”
Mahaffey cursed quietly to himself.
Earnshaw continued. “The good news is that we can make the food last three more days if we have to and we’ve got plenty of water to go around.”
Mahaffey looked around for answers in the darkness. “Things are worse than I thought.”
“I figure we’ve got enough bullets to last us maybe one more run at the town, but that’s pushing it. They’ll be expecting us next time, so it won’t be as easy to get away as it was before.”
“I wasn’t planning on hitting them the same way again,” Mahaffey told him. “I was thinking of setting up outside of town and taking random shots like I’d ordered Marcum to do. Keep them off balance that way. They won’t know what to expect from us after that.”
Earnshaw considered that tactic. “We might manage to get a few of them before they run for cover. Let’s be generous and say each man gets one citizen apiece on his first shot, which they won’t. That’ll make our ammunition situation even worse. No matter how you look at it, we need more bullets, George. There’s just no way around it.”
Mahaffey may not have been as good a thinker as Ben Washington, but he was not an imbecile. “I know what the problem is, Roy. I just don’t have an answer for it.”
“There’s only two answers to our troubles,” Earnshaw explained. “The first is to ride over to Woodbine and get what we need from the general store there. It’s small and there’s no law to speak of that’ll stand in our way, just an old constable.”
Mahaffey knew the township where Ben had been captured might be relatively close, but a ride like that would tire their already worn-out horses. The fight was here in Laramie. He wanted to keep it here, which limited his options.
“It’s close, but not as close as Laramie. We’ll have to get food and bullets down there.”
Earnshaw was quiet for a moment. “That would be easier, but it’s risky. We’d have to be careful about who we picked to ride into Laramie. Dib’s out because some folks are bound to have already gotten a good look at him when you sent him there with that message. The two LeBlanc brothers are out for the same reason. You can’t go either, George. Trammel might’ve seen you at the edge of town last night.”
Mahaffey knew it had been too dark for anyone to have gotten a good look at him, but there was no reason to take chances. “Do you think anyone saw you last night?”
Earnshaw shook his head. “I kept shooting and riding. I didn’t stop long enough for anyone to get a good look at me. I’ll be happy to go, but I’ll need some money. All the general stores are bound to be swamped with people looking to buy bullets to defend themselves. They’ll be on the lookout for thieves and looters.”
Mahaffey dug into his pocket and handed Earnshaw a fistful of coins. “Slip into town tonight and see what you can take. Take Coombs with you. I know he’s got a hole in his shoulder, but he’s steady. Get as much ammunition as you can carry. Go to different stores if you have to. If you don’t think you can break in somewhere without getting caught, buy them first thing in the morning and come right back. The food and other supplies we need can wait. The bullets can’t.”
Earnshaw pocketed the coins. “Burt’s better with locks than Coombs. He’d be the better choice if you want me breaking in someplace.”
“Someone might remember him. Coombs is good enough.”
Mahaffey was glad Earnshaw was not in the mood to debate. “I’ll be back as soon as I can with whatever I can get.”
Mahaffey grabbed him before he walked away. “Be careful, Roy. I can’t spare another man. Not even you.”
Earnshaw grinned. “I didn’t know you cared.”
Mahaffey stood by the edge of the fire as he watched Earnshaw and Coombs mount up and ride off toward Laramie. It would have been too dark and dangerous for some, but he knew Earnshaw could have made the trip blindfolded.
Dib Bishop helped himself to another cup of coffee as he asked Mahaffey, “Where they off to?”
“To save our hides, Dib. In a way.”
CHAPTER 26
Hawkeye suppressed a yawn as he sat watch in front of Kilroy’s General Store.
At first, he had questioned Trammel’s idea of sending deputies to mind the stores all over town. He had thought it would be a better idea if all the deputies holed up in City Hall in case the Washington Gang made a run at the jail. Hawkeye certainly could have used the sleep.
But he had seen the wisdom in Trammel’s decision as soon as he had seen the group in front of Kilroy’s. About twenty of Laramie’s citizens had already formed a line along the boardwalk, eager to be there as soon as the store opened in the morning.
Arn Tully, one of those at the front of the men waiting to buy supplies, asked Hawkeye, “Can’t you have that hardheaded jackass Kilroy open his store for us? I don’t enjoy the prospect of sleeping out here all night.”
Hawkeye had already tried to discuss it with the stubborn Scotsman. “He won’t budge, Arn. He’s as stubborn as a mule on the subject. He said he needs his rest, and he’ll open for business at eight in the morning. Not a minute sooner.”
Tully grumbled as he pulled his horse blanket around his shoulders, careful to keep it from touching the man beside him. “It just doesn’t seem right for him to hold out on us like this. Can’t you make him open up? We’ve all got the money to pay for what we need.”
“That’s the problem,” said the man next to Tully. “He oughtn’t to be allowed to charge us for bullets in the first place. How’s a man expected to protect himself, what with the likes of the Washington Gang on the war path and all if he doesn’t have bullets?”
“All the stores in town are closed,” Hawkeye reminded them. “The owners came to an agreement. I’m not arguing with you, just telling you like it is. I don’t like being out here more than you do.”
He was glad the men decided to quit complaining and huddle beneath their blankets in a bit to get some sleep. It had been a long day for everyone in Laramie. The longest Hawkeye could remember.
Hawkeye had nodded off several times in the two hours he had been guarding the store, but constantly snapped awake. There was an uneasy mood on the streets of Laramie that evening. The stench of the fire from The Laramie Grand still hung in the air. The stretcher bearers had resumed their grisly work once the shooting had stopped and, every so often, another pair would lope by Kilroy’s General Store as they carried the dead to the church graveyard at the end of the street.
Hawkeye could still hear the sound of little Tommy Holley’s sobs as the men came to carry his father away. It was a small wonder that no one else had been killed during the robbery, but Ed Holley had been quite a loss. The carpenter had been popular. He always charged a fair price for quality work and, unlike many of his neighbors, had never been known to speak ill of anyone. The people had taken the loss of the good man poorly and Hawkeye imagined there would be some sort of public outcry for justice once the sun came up the next morning.
But for now, Hawkeye knew the people of Laramie passed an uneasy night among the charred ruins of a grand hotel. The added terror visited upon them by a band of ruthless outlaws would not help them sleep any better.
He felt himself begin to nod off once more when he heard a sound from somewhere deep inside the general store. He looked at the men on the boardwalk to see if any of them had heard it, too, but all of them were fast asleep beneath whatever blankets they had brought with them.
Hawkeye peered through the windows to see if Kilroy might have come down from his room in the loft to make a late-night inventory of his goods but saw no hint of a lamplight in the dark interior of the store.
But he did see a shadow pass by the back door. It was quickly followed by another.
Someone was trying to either break into Kilroy’s or had already done it.
Rifle in hand, Hawkeye eased out of the chair and slowly crept off the boardwalk, careful to not wake any of the customers. He swiftly moved down the alley between the store and the rooming house beside it. Something scurried away from him in the alley as he moved, and a cat sprang forward to give chase.
Hawkeye paused when he reached the mouth of the alley and took a quick look around the backyard. He saw the back door of the general store open less than an inch. He knew Angus Kilroy always made sure all of his doors were locked before he turned in for the night. Whoever had broken in had been careful about it.
Hawkeye thought about going back to ask one of the men to run and get one of the deputies, but the robbers would likely be gone before any help arrived. He knew he was on his own.
He swept around the corner and used the barrel of his rifle to push the door wide open. He stood to the side of the doorframe as he called out, “I know you’re in there. You’d best come out with your hands up or I’ll shoot.”
A shotgun blast obliterated a large chunk of the back door as Hawkeye ducked for cover. Another blast lit up the inside of the store, sending shot through the gaping doorway.
Hawkeye never liked to fire blind, but he had no choice. He stuck his rifle through the doorway and snapped off two quick rounds into the darkness.
Curses and shuffling feet on creaking floorboards followed and he knew the robbers were trying to escape through the front of the store.
As Hawkeye moved inside, Angus Kilroy was running down the stairs from his room as he bellowed, “Thieves! Looters! Stop them!”
The storeowner knocked Hawkeye aside without stopping as he leveled his own shotgun at the outlines of the fleeing men. “Stop right there or I’ll—”
Hawkeye grabbed hold of the shopkeeper’s robe as three bullets struck him in the chest. The door up at the front flew open as Kilroy tumbled backward and over the deputy.
Hawkeye did not stop to check the shopkeeper’s condition as he got to his feet and ran through the length of the general store.
The men who had been sleeping outside were wide awake as Hawkeye saw the last of the robbers dart down the alley next to the store. The deputy skidded to a stop and ran back inside, hoping to catch them as they came out of the alley. He leapt over Kilroy and bolted outside.
Bullets bit into the wood and the mud around him, causing Hawkeye to drop flat on the ground. He looked up in time to see the men making a mad dash toward a pair of horses waiting for them behind the shops.
He sat up, brought his Winchester to his shoulder, and fired into the center of the shapes. He kept firing as the men scrambled onto their horses and rode out toward the thoroughfare.
Hawkeye got to his feet and began to chase after them. He ran through the far alley and out onto the street, where he saw the thieves moving away at a good gallop.
He levered in a fresh round and emptied his Winchester in their direction.
His rifle empty, he looked to see if one of them had dropped from the saddle, but both of them continued on until they cleared the town and disappeared into the night.
Sheriff Trammel called out to him as he ran toward him from City Hall. His rifle was at his side. “What happened?”
Hawkeye struggled to catch his breath. “Two fellas just broke into Kilroy’s store. Came in the back, shot Kilroy, and took off. I could’ve sworn I hit them, but they kept on going. Want me to go after them?”
Trammel shook his head. “We’ve got bigger troubles. Come on.”
He followed the sheriff as he ran through the alley and to the back of the general store. He only slowed when he reached the back door and stepped inside. Shards of glass crunched beneath his boots. Trammel found a lantern hanging beside the doorframe, thumbed a match alive and lit it.
Hawkeye watched as Trammel began to move through the store, the lamp offering the only light in the place. Its amber glow revealed Angus Kilroy slumped on the floor of his storeroom just as Hawkeye had left him. His eyes were vacant and the three holes in the center of his chest no longer bled.
The deputy felt his legs grow weak. He had been sent to protect the store and now the owner was dead.
Trammel swept the lamp to the shelves, revealing every box of bullets had been taken. A few loose cartridges littered the floor around Kilroy’s corpse, but not many.
“There’s no way those boys could’ve taken all of those bullets,” Hawkeye said. “They didn’t have the time.”
Trammel moved into the main part of the store. He lifted the lamp to reveal a vacant spot behind the counter where Kilroy kept the bullets he sold. There was not a box in sight.
The sheriff set the lamp on the counter. “You see anyone loitering outside before they broke in?”
Hawkeye hated to say the words. “About twenty of them had lined up for the night. They wanted to be the first in line to buy ammunition when the store opened in the morning.”
The young deputy knew what this meant. Yesterday, no one would’ve dreamed of taking something without paying for it. They would have rushed to tend to Kilroy instead of robbing him blind.
But a day was a long time in Wyoming. And that day had been the longest in recent memory.
Trammel scowled as he looked over the rest of the store. “Think you can remember any of them?”
“All of them. Arn Tulley and some of his friends.”
Trammel placed his hands on his hips. “This is bad, Hawkeye. Real bad. It means the looting has already begun.”
Hawkeye knew that now the cork of disorder had been pulled, the town might very well drown in its own fear. “What do you want me to do, boss?”
“Get out there and bring back one of those stretchers. It won’t do anyone any good seeing Kilroy like this. We’ll worry about running down the looters later.”
As Hawkeye began to leave, Trammel called out to him, “And don’t go blaming yourself for this. Guilt won’t do us any good now.”
Hawkeye moved off into the night, unsure if he entirely believed that.
* * *
Unlike the other members of the Washington gang, Mahaffey had not tried to get any sleep. His mind was too busy puzzling over what might happen if Earnshaw and Coombs did not return with those bullets.
He and the others were dug in too deep now to just give up on freeing Ben Washington. The men would turn on him if he even suggested it. And after raising havoc in Laramie, running away would not do any of them much good. Buck Trammel would still hunt him to the ends of the earth to make them pay for what they had done to his town. He had bet his life on getting Ben Washington free. There was no way he could turn back now even if he wanted to.
Mahaffey threw his blanket aside when he heard riders approaching the camp. Some of the others woke, too. The sound of hammers being thumbed back sounded like crickets on a summer’s evening.
He walked to the edge of the firelight as Earnshaw and Coombs rode in. Coombs’s hat was gone, and his left shoulder was caked in blood.
Earnshaw was all smiles when he handed a bulging blanket down to Mahaffey. “We got what we could, George. I think it’ll be enough to see us through for a while.”
