through the state legislature. And at the same time there was another faction that wanted to be able to accomplish this without riling certain folks at the federal level in Washington. And then there was supposed to be some ebb and flow of power here at the local level, but neither Longarm nor Amos knew what the hell that was supposed to be about.
It was a mess, that’s what it was, Longarm figured. As political interference always was.
But then all Longarm wanted was to find out who the hell killed Norman Colton. And then go home.
“What I can’t understand,” Longarm muttered at length, “is what the hell I’m doin’ here.”
Amos gave him a sheepish look.
“You know something ‘bout that, Amos?”
“I, uh, guess I do at that.”
“Well?”
“My boss sent me here undercover, you know, so we could be sure the job was getting done and yet not let those people in Austin know that we were ignoring their message to lay off. You can understand that, I’m sure.”
“To a point, yeah. Me, I’d go ahead an’ rub their noses in it But then it ain’t my decision t’ make.”
“I might prefer to do that myself, but it wasn’t my decision either. Anyway, back to the point of all this, when my boss was telling me how he wanted it handled he was worried about what might happen when a U.S. deputy marshal came along to put that oar in the water. Which we naturally knew was going to happen sooner or later no matter how much pressure the boys from Austin tried to apply in Washington. I mean, you fellas keep yourselves mostly free of politics. More than we can manage, though we sure do try.”
Longarm nodded and puffed on his cheroot, content to wait for Amos to continue at his own pace.
“I got to tell you, asking for you to come in on this thing, you in particular that is, was my idea. Like I said, we knew there would have to be someone involved from the federal level. There didn’t seem any way around that. And I figured as good as you and I get along, well, if it was you they assigned down here we could talk it out. Like we’re doing now. And I knew we could count on you to not blow any whistles on us. I mean, everyone in town here knows you’re carrying a badge and have legal jurisdiction. They might not like it, but they understand it. And it’s no secret. Me they shouldn’t know about. And don’t have to. I figure we can work together on this thing, Longarm, and when the time comes you can be the one to make any arrests or ask for warrants or whatever else might be involved. That way no one will ever have to know there was a Ranger here, and my boss won’t be in jeopardy of losing his job to the whims of a bunch of assholes with deep pockets and more interest in votes than in justice.”
“Just figured you could use me any ol’ way you wanted, did you?” Longarm asked.
Amos grinned. “Something like that, yeah.”
“Well, I expect you were right. Reckon I’ll go along with your plan.” Longarm grinned back at his old friend. “But I got t’ tell you, my boss got kinda peeved at having one o’ his people requested an’ nobody knowing why or by who. Bothered him some, it did.”
“Nothing serious, I hope.”
“He’ll get over it.”
“I know he used to be a Ranger himself and knows a lot of the people still in government in Austin. It might be a good idea if you don’t explain it to him, not all of it, even after it’s over, Longarm. You never know if somebody else can keep his mouth shut, and your Marshal Vail still has a lot of friends in Texas.”
“It’s true that he does,” Longarm agreed. But very carefully did not make any promises to Amos Vent. Promises that Longarm would have had no intention of keeping. After all, Billy Vail was entitled to full knowledge of what his own officers did—never mind what the Texas Rangers might want him to know. Or not.
But there was no sense in making Amos nervous about that. Better to just let the Ranger think Longarm was agreeable. But, hell, if Longarm couldn’t trust Billy Vail then he’d best hand in his badge and go look for another line of work. Billy was as good a man as Custis Long had ever known, and Longarm would trust Billy as completely as he would trust himself.
“You’ll work with me then, Longarm? On the quiet?”
“I will that, Amos. Excuse me, I mean t’ say that I will work with you, on the quiet, plain ol’ ordinary citizen Lester Colton.”
Amos chuckled and asked, “Now that that’s out of the way, d’you happen to have a bottle of that good rye whiskey in your bag like you usually do?”
“It’s wrapped inside my clean shirts. Dig it out an’ help yourself if you like.”
Amos stood and began searching in Longarm’s carpetbag for the hidden treasure.
Chapter 9
“You’re Long?”
Longarm looked up from his stack of sorghum-soaked hotcakes. “You must be Short.”
He regretted it even before the last sounds passed out of his stupid, unthinking mouth. Because the truth is that short men damn seldom want the fact pointed out to them. And this sawed-off runt was shorter than most. Hell, he probably couldn’t hit the five-foot-four mark unless he was wearing boots. Short, built like a pint-sized bull and with a brushy flare of whisker so wide and full it looked like he was trying to compensate for his other shortcomings all in one lump of flaming red hair.
“Smart-ass son of a bitch, aren’t you,” the man accused.
“I got to give credit where it’s due, neighbor. You got balls to say that to my face.”
“There are those that call me Brass. Does that tell you anything?”
“It does.” The name fit remarkably well in several different ways, starting with the little man’s belligerent
