“Yes,” he said, “I do.”
“And after you bury them, you check on Randy. He’s not a bad boy.”
“I know.”
“And then we can go back to bed,” she told him. “We will make love this time.”
“In broad daylight?”
“Yes.” Betty touched his cheek, then ran her fingers down to his scarred neck. “And after we do that, you will decide that we should go away together.”
Smith didn’t have the heart to refuse her. “All right,” he said, “we’ll do it your way and see what happens.”
“Good!” She jumped up, and soon had a big plate of pancakes and pork chops before him. Then she filled a plate for herself, and together they ate enough for five hardworking men.
Chapter 14
By the time that Longarm tracked The Assassin to the Bar S Ranch in South Park, the man had already left two men in the town’s little cemetery and the Ute woman named Betty had simply disappeared.
“He seemed like a nice enough fella,” Tom Blanton, who owned the little cafe, said. “Of course, with those red burn scars down on his neck and all, he did stand out some.
“What about the rest of his face?” Longarm asked. “Had that also been disfigured?”
“Not at all. When he was here, he wore a bandanna wrapped up close under his chin, sort of like a cowboy will do in bad riding weather. He’s a handsome kinda fella and sure had me fooled. I can’t tell you how bad I feel about giving him directions so he could ride out and kill Red and one of his hired hands.”
Longarm listened with great interest as Tom explained how The Assassin had pistol-whipped a kid named Randy. Then he said, “I’d like to talk to Randy, if possible.”
“Sure, he’s staying at the hotel. He should go to Denver or Santa Fe and see a doctor.”
“Why?”
“Well, he’s not doing so good,” the man said with a worried expression. “He really took a vicious blow to the head and he still seems a little dazed. Randy tells me that he’s having some really fierce headaches.”
“He probably had a concussion,” Longarm said. “I’ve had a couple of them myself.”
“You have?”
“That’s right. The skull gets cracked and the brain bruised. The aftereffects, namely headaches, can plague a man for months, but he’ll generally have a full recovery.”
“You ought to tell Randy that. He’s real down and afraid he’ll never be able to work again.”
“I’ll go see him,” Longarm promised. “Maybe he’ll recall something important.”
“Maybe,” Tom said, “but I wouldn’t count on it. He’s in rough shape. Lost weight and seems … well, he used to be a pretty happy kid.”
“What did he do for Red Skoal?”
“General ranch work.”
Longarm found it difficult to believe that anyone working for Red would not have been involved in theft of some kind, but there wasn’t any point in saying that to this man. So after his meal, he went over to the hotel and looked up young Randy Thomas, who was sitting in the lobby attempting to read a week-old newspaper. After the introductions, Longarm sat down with the kid and studied him closely.
“They say that you took a bad blow to the head and are having headaches.”
“I am,” Randy admitted. “It’s been more’n a week now and I still feel real bad. Don’t know if I’ll ever get back to my old self.”
“I expect that you get dizzy too,” Longarm said, “especially when you stand up too fast.”
“I do!” Randy frowned. “How’d you know that?”
“I’ve had a few hard knocks to the head myself. And I wanted to tell you that you will fully recover. When you are hit that hard, the doctors tell me you either suffer permanent brain damage and usually die, or you fully recover. You’re definitely going to recover.”
The kid brightened. “I sure am glad to hear that. I was just thinking that I might be all washed up with no way to support myself.”
“You’ll be fine.” Longarm leaned closer. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
In halting words, the kid told Longarm about the few moments he’d seen The Assassin and then how he’d been ordered to turn around and how he didn’t remember anything after that.
“The light wasn’t good, so I’m not even sure that I’d recognize that sonofabitch if I ever saw him again.”
“What do you think happened to the woman?”
“You mean Betty?”
“Yes.”
“He probably pistol-whipped her too. Then he must have forced her to go with him. She wouldn’t have ever gone by choice.”
“Why do you say that?”
