“I’d be beholden, Smoke.”
Judge Proctor and Sheriff Carson entered the office. The judge extended his hand to Colby. “You have my deepest and most sincere condolences, sir.”
“Thank you, Judge.”
Monte stood with his hat in his hand, looking awfully uncomfortable.
Hunt motioned them all into his office. When they were seated, Judge Proctor looked at them all and said, “Well, this is a bit irregular, and should this case ever come to court, I shall, of course, have to bring in another judge to hear it. But that event appears highly unlikely.”
Smoke’s smile was ugly.
Monte caught the mocking smile. “Don’t, Smoke,” he said quietly. “We done our best. And I mean that. If you can ever prove we slacked up even a little, you can have my badge, and I’m sayin’ that in front of witnesses.”
For some reason, Smoke believed the man. Queer feeling.
“Here it is,” Judge Proctor said. He looked at Colby. “This is highly embarrassing for me, sir. And please bear in mind, these are the words of the TF men who were…well, at the scene.”
“Just say it,” the rancher-farmer said.
“Very well. They say, sir, that your daughter had been, well, shall we say…
“What’s been goin’ on?” Colby blurted. “I ain’t understandin’ none of this.”
Smoke had a sudden headache. He rubbed his temples with his fingertips and wished all this crap would be over. Just get all the goddamned lies over and done with.
“Sir,” Judge Proctor said. “The TF men claim that your daughter, Velvet, has been entertaining them with sexual favors for some time. For money.”
Colby sat rock still for a moment, and then jumped to his feet. “That there’s a damned lie, sir! My Velvet is a good girl!”
Smoke pulled the man back into the chair. “We know, Colby. We know that’s the truth. It’s all a pack of lies. Just like we figured it would be.”
“Please, Mister Colby!” Judge Proctor said. “Try to control yourself, sir.”
Colby put his face in his hands and began weeping.
Lawyer Brook wet a cloth from a pitcher on his desk and handed the cloth to Smoke, who handed it to Colby. Colby bathed his face and sighing, looked up. “Go on,” he said, his voice strained.
The judge looked at the sheriff. “Would you
“Mister Colby,” Monte said. “Them Harris brothers who ride for the TF brand, Ed and Pete? It was them and Billy and Donnie and Singer and…two or three more. I got their names writ down. Anyways, they claim that Miss Velvet was…” He sighed, thinking, Oh, shit! “Chargin’ the men three dollars a turn. There would have been more than twenty-one dollars there this time except that not all the men got their turn.”
“Dear God in Heaven!” Hunt Brook exclaimed. “Must you be so graphic, sir?”
“I don’t know no other way to say it, Lawyer!” Monte said. “I’m doin’ the bes’ I can.”
Hunt waved his hand. “I know, Sheriff. I know. Sorry. Please continue.”
“They say Miss Velvet kep’ her…earnin’s in a secret place back in the timber. They told us where it was. We ain’t been there, and you all know we ain’t had the time to go to the ranch, into the high country, and back here by now. I’ll tell y’all where they said it was. Y’all can see for yourselves.
“Anyways, Miss Velvet’s brother come up there and started yellin’ and hollerin’ and wavin’ that rifle of his’n around. Then he just up and shot Steve Babbin. That’s for a fact. They buryin’ Steve this afternoon. Shot him in the eye with a .22. Killed him. Little bitty hole. Had to have been a .22. Them ol’ boys just reacted like any other men. They grabbed iron and started shootin’. Killed the boy. They kinda got shook about it and took off. That’s about it, boys.”
Monte leaned back in his chair and looked at the newly carpeted floor.
“And you believe their story, Sheriff?” Lawyer Brook asked.
“It ain’t a question of’ believin’ or not believin’, Lawyer. It’s a matter of what can be proved. I don’t like it, fellers. I just don’t like it. But look at it like this: even if Miss Velvet could talk, which she cain’t, it’d still be her word agin theirs. And that’s the way it is, fellers.”
Smoke stood up and put his hat on his head. “And that’s it, huh, boys?”
“I’m afraid so, Mister Jensen,” Judge Proctor said. “I don’t like it. But we played this straight by the book. If you could bring me evidence to the contrary, I’d certainly listen to it and act accordingly.”
“So will I, Smoke,” Monte said softly. “Believe it.”
“Oddly enough, I do believe you. Come on, Colby. Let’s go.”
Lawyer Hunt Brook was so angry he was trembling. “This is terrible!” He practically shouted the words. “This is not justice!”
“The lady is blind, Mister Brook,” Judge Proctor said. “I shouldn’t have to remind you of that.” He stood up. “Come, Sheriff.”
Stepping outside, the judge almost ran into Pistol Le Roux. “Good Lord!” Proctor said. “It’s been years, Pistol. You’re looking quite well.”
