Candice actually smiled. “So, you have been asking some questions! And guess who owns Mountain Packers.”
“Mr. Laird?”
“Bravo!” Candice exclaimed. “But I am sure Laird has a partner in Durango. Someone who packs and routes the stolen artifacts to an international market.”
“What makes you think that?”
“It only makes sense that Laird would have a partner,” Candice said, shrugging her shoulders. “Of course, he buys and sells artifacts through his museum, but not nearly enough to make it profitable for an organized gang of thieves.”
“Have you ever followed Laird to Durango just to see who he might be dealing with?”
“No,” Candice said, “I’m much too busy trying to raise cattle and keep my ranch going. But I don’t think it would be hard for a man like yourself to do that.”
“This is all just conjecture, of course,” Longarm said. “We need some proof that the two scientists are fakes and that Laird is the go-between for a gang transporting and selling the treasures.”
“Why don’t you telegraph someone back East and have them check up on Barker and Lucking? I’m sure that Harvard has never heard of either man.”
“As a matter of fact,” Longarm said, “I sent a telegram off just before I left Cortez asking Billy Vail to do that very thing.”
“How is he?”
“Billy is fine. He sends his regards.”
“I never knew him very well, but my parents said that he once helped them out of some kind of bad fix.”
“Billy was a fine lawman during the years he was in the field,” Longarm told her. “It’s a shame that he settled for a desk job, but he seems happy and has a nice family.”
“Yeah,” Candice said, “I guess the life you lead wouldn’t be very good for a marriage or family, huh?”
“That’s right,” Longarm agreed. “It wouldn’t.”
She studied him with such frankness that Longarm felt a little uncomfortable. “Maybe you should find a new line of work, Custis.”
“Such as?”
“Do you know anything about cowboying or cattle ranching?”
“Nope. The only thing I know about cattle is that they taste good when they’ve been cut up and cooked medium rare.”
Candice laughed. “At least you are honest. But you’re still young enough to learn ranching.”
Longarm decided that the conversation was getting way out of hand. “I’m married,” he lied. “My wife is waiting for me at the Concord Hotel. A fella named Matt Horn is taking us up to Mesa Verde tomorrow.”
“You brought your wife?”
Candice looked appalled. Longarm tried to ignore that, and added, “Miranda is very interested in Anasazi artifacts, and she has always wanted to see the cliff dwellings.”
“That may be,” Candice said, “but it seems a little foolish to me to have her around when you are trying to find a gang of thieves who are probably also killers. I’d have thought that a man with your obvious experience would have known better than to bring along his wife.”
“Look,” Longarm said, “why don’t we just pretend that we don’t even know each other. I’ll ride on ahead and you and your buckboard can come in later. Tomorrow, I’ll let Mr. Horn take my wife and me up to Mesa Verde and I’ll do my best to find out what is really going on there.”
“That’s fine with me,” Candice said, “just as long as we agree that you’ll keep me posted on what you find and what you intend to do about it.”
“I’ll keep you posted,” he promised.
“All right, but I ought to warn you that this gang isn’t stupid. If you start asking questions, they’re bound to become suspicious, and then they’ll put a bullet through your brisket.”
Longarm tipped his hat to the ranch woman. “Thanks for the warning,” he said a moment before he set his horse into an easy lope heading back to Cortez.
He had unsaddled his horse and was headed for the hotel when Candice and her two old cowpunchers arrived in town. Longarm guessed he was the only man in Cortez who did not stare at the attractive young woman. Even wearing an old leather coat and with most of her blond hair bunched up under a soiled Stetson, Candice was a beauty. She had long legs, and rode her horse as if she had been born in the saddle.
“Ain’t she something, though?” a man standing beside Longarm said with unconcealed admiration. “Too bad she’s a damned man-hater.”
“Yeah,” Longarm replied before he wheeled around and went up to his hotel room.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Miranda said when he entered their room. “I had the impression that you would be gone all day.”
“I would have been,” he said, “but I met the people I wanted to see coming into town for supplies.”
“Did you learn anything new?”
“Not much,” he said. “But I expect that we’ll know quite a lot more after visiting Mesa Verde and talking to
