For Longarm and Coffin, it was more than likely a death trap.
Manuel reined in at a hitch rack bordering the stone-paved patio between the wings of the house. He gave Grady a curt command to help him down. Grady did so, then turned and covered Longarm and Coffin while Scott dismounted. The routine was the reverse of what they had gone through when they left the isolated village.
A few moments later, Longarm and Coffin had dismounted as well, and Scott said dryly, “After you, boys.”
Coffin growled a few more curses as he followed Manuel and Grady across the patio and through an open door into a large low-ceilinged room. Longarm was beside him, eyes flicking quickly around the room, taking in the scene and judging the odds.
No one else was in the room at the moment. It was furnished with heavy divans and chairs, and a thickly woven Indian rug lay on the stone floor. On one side of the room was a huge fireplace. It was a simple, yet comfortable room, no doubt reflecting the tastes of the original owner. Once again Longarm wondered what had become of him.
A door on the far side of the room opened, and a tall rawboned man in denim pants and a gray shirt walked in. There was something familiar about him, and after a second Longarm realized where he had seen the man before. This hombre was the one he had pegged as possibly being El Aguila during the first raid on Del Rio. The man had ridden in the forefront of the raiders galloping up and down the street.
Now, like all the other outlaws, he was unmasked, and Longarm saw an ugly, lantern-jawed face topped by thinning fair hair. He scowled at the newcomers and said, “I hear there was trouble, Manuel. What happened?”
Manuel half-turned toward Longarm and Coffin and indicated them with a curt wave of his uninjured arm. “These two men attacked us in the cantina. Higgins must have recognized one or both of them from Del Rio, because he went for his gun first. That one killed him.” Manuel nodded toward Longarm. “The bastards broke my arm with a bullet too. They killed everyone except for Grady and myself.”
“It was a close one, Deke,” put in Grady, clearly eager to mollify the lantern-jawed man. “They never would have got any of us if they hadn’t taken us by surprise.”
“They wouldn’t have taken you by surprise if you weren’t idiots,” said Deke with a disdainful curl of his upper lip. “None of you could wait to take your share of the loot and spend it on tequila and cards and whores.”
“We fought valiantly,” Manuel protested. “I have the wounded arm to prove it.”
Deke’s hand made a small, seemingly involuntary movement toward the gun holstered on his hip. “I ought to shoot you both right now.”
Manuel flinched slightly, and Grady looked about ready to shit in his pants, thought Longarm.
Deke took a deep breath to bring his anger under control, and jerked a thumb at Scott. “What about this hombre? Who’s he?”
“He gave us a hand-“ Grady began.
Manuel interrupted him. “He rode in with the two lawmen, but he did not take part in the fight. When it was over, he drew his guns and disarmed them, keeping them from killing Grady and me in cold blood.”
Coffin exploded. “We ain’t murderers like you, greaser! We don’t shoot men down like dogs—even when they deserve it!”
Deke silenced Coffin with a short wave of his hand. “Shut up.” He looked at Scott. “Seems like you’ve got some explaining to do.”
“Name’s Walt Scott,” the drifter said easily. “I’ve heard of your bunch, and it sounds like the kind of organization I’d like to hook up with. I hear tell you come up with some pretty good money.”
“We get our share of loot,” said Deke. “But we’re not running a haven for gunfighters. Why should we take you in?”
Scott gestured with his guns at Longarm and Coffin. “I brought you a couple of lawmen to do with as you will.”
“You tell me. Anyway, Long and Coffin here are pretty smart fellas ... most of the time. If I hadn’t come along, they might’ve found this hideout and given you some real trouble, Deke. They’re looking for a girl, a Senorita Guiterrez they say you kidnapped back in Del Rio.”
Longarm had remained silent as long as he could. “Where is she?” he
asked sharply. “If you’ve hurt her-“
Deke jerked his gun out suddenly and stepped forward, making Manuel
and Grady jump back in fright. Instead of threatening the outlaws,
however, Deke brought the barrel of the revolver up and eared back its
hammer as he lined the muzzle on Longarm’s face. “Start threatening me,
you son of a bitch,” Deke grated, “and I’ll blow your brains out right here
and now-“
“Deke! Put that gun down.”
The imperiously voiced command made Longarm’s breath catch in his throat. Even though the muzzle of Deke’s gun bore an uncanny resemblance to a cannon at this range, Longarm was able to tear his gaze away from it and look toward the door that led into the other room.
Sonia stood there, dressed in a low-cut gown the color of burnished copper, just like her hair. She held a glass of wine in one hand, a small pistol in the other. The glitter of mocking laughter danced in her dark eyes.
“This bastard was shootin’ his mouth off,” Deke began without looking back at her.
