“That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Longarm said. “That’s the real reason for the bounty on the Brazos Devil and for bringing in Lord Beechmuir. You wanted the varmint dead, so that all the loose ends would be tied UP.”
Thorp laughed coldly. “And it certainly made me look more like a loving husband who was worried out of his mind about his missing wife. I fooled all of you, Long, and I’ll keep on fooling the others. You’ll have to disappear, of course, but maybe everyone will think that the Brazos Devil got you too.” He lifted the gun a little, the barrel looking as big around as the mouth of a cannon in the shadows of the cave. Looked like he was going to have to take that chance after all, Longarm thought. Thorp was through talking. Longarm tensed his muscles, ready to spring away from the bunk as he grabbed for his gun. Before either of the men could make a move, though, Emmaline surprised both of them. With a strength she shouldn’t have possessed in her withered body, she exploded up off the bunk. Freed now, since Longarm had cut through the rope tied to the iron ring in the wall of the cave, Emmaline flung herself toward her husband. A hoarse scream ripped from the raw gash of her mouth.
“Mrs. Thorp! No!” Longarm shouted as he threw himself forward, landing on his belly on the floor of the cave. His .44 was in his hand, even though he didn’t remember pulling it from the cross-draw rig. He couldn’t fire, however, because Emmaline was between him and Thorp. The murderous rancher didn’t have to worry about that. His gun crashed, sending bullets slamming into his wife’s body at close range. The impact of the slugs should have thrown her back or at least dropped her in her tracks, but the rage and hate that had jerked her up from the bunk were too powerful to allow her to be stopped. Her arms outstretched, the claw-like hands reaching desperately for Thorp’s neck, she ran full-tilt into him. With a startled yell, Thorp fell backward out of the entrance of the cave. Longarm scrambled to his feet and leaped out after them, the revolver held ready in his fist.
He didn’t need it. Thorp and Emmaline were both tumbling head over heels down the face of the bluff, bouncing off rocks but somehow staying together. A second later, they hit the ground at the base of the limestone cliff. The sound of the impact sent a wave of sickness through Longarm’s belly.
He kept his gun out as he made his way back down the bluff, watching Thorp and Emmaline as he did so. Neither of them moved at all. When Longarm reached their side a few moments later, he wasn’t surprised to find that Emmaline was dead. He had heard several of Thorp’s bullets strike her. The midsection of her tattered dress was sodden with blood.
Thorp was dead too, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. In falling down the steep slope, he must have hit his head and broken his neck. At least that was what Longarm sort of wanted to think.
Emmaline’s fingers were still locked around her husband’s throat in a death grip, and Longarm couldn’t help but wonder if she had broken Thorp’s neck with a burst of unholy strength.
Either way, Longarm thought as he slid his pistol back into its holster, they were both gone. This tragedy had played itself out to its inevitable conclusion.
But all the trouble wasn’t over yet, and the sudden crackle of gunfire from upriver that made Longarm’s head jerk up reminded him of that.
Chapter 18
The Appaloosa and Thorp’s horse were both tied up nearby. Longarm ran to the Appaloosa, jerked the reins free from the little tree, and swung up quickly into the saddle. He wheeled the horse around and urged it into a run across the river. He didn’t much like leaving the bodies of Thorp and Emmaline lying there by the river, but there wasn’t much choice. He had to find out what the shooting was about. He was afraid he had a pretty good idea already.
Being careful to watch out for patches of quicksand, Longarm got as much speed out of the Appaloosa as he could. He veered north before reaching the opposite bank. He could make better time by staying in the streambed, rather than trying to force his way through the thick brush along the bank. More shots rang out, and a few distant yells drifted to Longarm’s ears. Sounded like the others had caught up to the Brazos Devil at last, he thought.
The shooting stopped just as Longarm sent the Appaloosa around one of the bends in the river. He saw movement up ahead on the eastern bank and reined in sharply. He wanted to see what was going on before he charged in there. Edging his mount toward the shore, he leaned forward in the saddle and squinted as he peered along the river.
He saw the two servants standing near the edge of the bank; it was easy to identify them by their turbans. Not far away, in a clearing in front of what appeared to be another cave at the base of the bluff, stood Lord Beechmuir. He was facing Mitch Rainey, who stood near the mouth of the cave with a pistol in one hand and his other arm around the neck of Helene Booth. Rainey kept what appeared to be a tight, painful grip on her while he covered her husband with the gun in his other hand.
Rainey again, Longarm thought bitterly. He wished he had killed the outlaw a long time ago, when he had the chance.
Moving quietly, Longarm slipped down from the saddle and climbed onto the riverbank. He tied the Appaloosa’s reins to a bush. As far as he could tell, Rainey hadn’t noticed him yet, and Longarm wanted to keep it that way. If he could work his way through the brush along the bank, maybe he could take the fugitive by surprise and get Helene away from him before he hurt her.
Rainey’s voice was loud enough for Longarm to make out most of the words as he began easing his way slowly through the thick growth. “… little lady tells me you’re rich,” Rainey was saying. “I want plenty of money and … head start … get her back safe and sound.”
Longarm frowned as he continued moving closer. From the sound of it, Rainey had kidnapped Lady Beechmuir in order to hold her for ransom. But they had found the distinctive tracks of the Brazos Devil at the campsite after Helene disappeared, Longarm recalled. They had all assumed the monster had carried her off. But maybe the Brazos Devil had come along after Helene had been abducted.
Longarm gave a little shake of his head. They could sort it all out after Helene was safe and Mitch Rainey was dead, he decided.
“I don’t have any cash with me,” Booth was saying in reply to Rainey’s demands. “At least not in the amounts you suggest. I’m sorry, old man, but I can’t help you.”
“Well, then, I may just have to take this pretty little gal with me,” Rainey shot back, clearly annoyed. “At least that way none of you bastards’ll come after me. Speakin’ of bastards, where’s that marshal?”
“Marshal Long will be back shortly, and so will the rest of our party. You won’t be able to get away, Mr. Rainey, so you might as well release my wife and make things easier on yourself when you’re brought to justice.”
Longarm heard Rainey laugh harshly. “Hell, nobody’s goin’ to catch me,” he boasted. “Not as long as I got that new partner of mine.”
