Blood on the Verde River (18 page)

It was a long day's ride. Short of reaching Tonto Creek at sundown, they camped at a watering hole for the night. Shifts were drawn for guarding Marconi. Supper was jerky and water from their canteens. Bedrolls were spread out and they went to sleep.

Predawn they were up and saddling horses. After hot oatmeal and coffee for breakfast, they rode out, reaching the creek and the road north in mid-morning.

Chet noted the prisoner was silent. He looked like a man planning to kill all of his guards. Marconi's sullen, superior attitude made Chet uneasy about the rest of his family. These people must be damn hard with no respect for the law or others.

Chet smelled the strong odor of the hog ranch before they even saw the buildings and pens. As they rode up, a woman armed with a scoop stood in a wagon bed, shoveling ear corn to a mass of muddy, squealing hogs behind a strong log fence. Two or three loose big ones went shagging off when they discovered the posse had arrived. Chet noted two more young women in wash-worn dresses came out onto the porch.

“I'm U.S. Deputy Marshall Roamer and I am looking for Olaf, Riley, and Jumbo Marconi. Are they here?”

She wiped her sweaty forehead on her sleeve. “Get the hell off our ranch and turn that boy loose. You ain't got nothing on him.”

“Men, go search the house and outbuildings and see what you can find. Pardon me, ma'am, but put down that shovel or I'll have to shoot you. Count on it,” Roamer said.

She held it a second or two too long. Chet rode in and jerked it away from her. “Lady, he will kill you.” That said, he tossed it aside and reined his horse back.

“Johnny. Johnny, you all right?” She dropped her butt to the wagon bed and jumped off it, then ran around to where Johnny Marconi sat shackled to the horn.

“Oh son, they won't convict you of nothing,” she cried.

“Get your hands off him,” Roamer ordered. “And back up three feet. He's a federal prisoner.”

“Go to hell. See that girl on the porch on the left? That's his wife Julie and she's pregnant. Turn him loose. This whole thing could mark her baby.”

“He will stand trial and serve time in prison for his part of the stage robbery.”

“How do you know he was even there?”

“Mrs. Marconi, trust me. He will do a long prison term for his part in that robbery.”

“No. Johnny, don't tell him a thing. You will be found innocent. You will have some good people say you ain't ever been wherever that robbery happened.”

On horseback, Chet circled the buildings, leaving the gabby woman to argue with Roamer. He didn't trust her, but she looked less likely to do anything than she had earlier. Had her sons left any of the stage money with the women? Those young women were frozen on the porch and close to tears. He wondered if they knew where the loot was. Maybe hidden under the dress of the woman chewing out Roamer.

Jesus came out of the house. “I couldn't find any money or gold.”

“Go back in and feel under the mantle inside the fireplace for a jar or can.” Chet dismounted and hitched his horse. Looking around before he entered the kitchen with the ring of his spurs trailing him, he started looking in kitchen containers. Taking the lids off things like sugar, he stirred them with a kitchen knife looking for any hidden money.

Jesus came back with ajar, smiling. “There is gold in here. Pouches say Wells Fargo Gold. This is the stolen gold dust, isn't it?”

Chet nodded. “That's damn sure part of it.” He looked around a bit more and then dragged a chair over to stand on. He removed the top of a red, candy can and nodded, taking five fresh hundred-dollar bills out. “Here, write down the serial numbers of those bills in my log book.” He tossed the book to Jesus.

“Put that back!” The woman stormed in the room. “You gawddamn thieves ain't takin' my money.”

“Mrs. Marconi, step back. I bet those serial numbers are close to the money we found on your son. If they are not part of the Wells Fargo shipment, the money will be refunded to you.”

“Where did you get that damn jar from?” She pointed to the one Jesus had found in the fireplace.

“Stay away from that evidence,” Chet moved to block her and captured both her arms. In the struggle, he avoided her handy knee. She was tough as any man he'd ever struggled with. He knew she'd bite him if she got the chance. Jesus finally caught her around the waist and they forced her into a chair and tied her hands and feet with her cussing them out.

“Now lady, I am going to stick a sock in your mouth if you don't shut up,” Chet threatened.

She closed her mouth.

Chet knew from the struggle that she wore a money belt and decided to liberate her of it. “I am going to take that money belt you're wearing off of you. You can stand up or we'll put you on the floor and remove it.”

“That is none of your business.”

“I'm tired of your mouth. Jesus find a gag.”

“No. I will stand up, but I am going to charge you with rape.”

Chet laughed. “I damn sure won't do that to you, lady.”

She rose and Jesus held her bound arms. Chet unbuttoned her dress and found the canvas belt. It had three buckles, which he undid as she stuttered in anger. Then he pulled the canvas belt free. She swore under her breath.

“Set her down again Jesus.”

“That is my money,” she snapped.

“I don't want
your
money. Only the
Wells Fargo
money.” Chet found two hundred-dollar bills in a compartment. They were fresh enough to be part of the loot. He recorded the serial numbers in his book and shook his head. “You are now an accessory to this crime.”

“Prove it.”

“What is your first name?”

“Shirley. Shirley Lynn Marconi.”

“A warrant will be sworn out for your appearance in Preskitt. If you don't appear in thirty days, another warrant will be sworn out for you and two federal deputy marshals will come over here and arrest you and take you back to Preskitt in irons.”

Roamer came in the room as he was finishing. “Chet told you the truth. You will need to go to Preskitt and file a bond or you will be on the wanted list and any bounty hunter can come get you and haul you belly down to Preskitt.”

“I'm not scared of you or your law.”

“You aren't dealing with a local sheriff, now. You're in the federal system. Marshals will find you and your family members. Avoiding them will mean more charges and a longer sentence.”

“She had two hundred dollars from the robber on her person. Jesus and I will initial them as hers. That jar has part or all of the gold dust in it.”

“Lefty and Haze can't find anything. Shirley, will you tell us where the other three went to hide?”

She stomped both bound legs with her brogan shoes. “Hell no. You bastards will eat dirt when my husband gets through with you.”

“Those men aren't around this place and we need to get back home. Make those girls fix some food,” Chet said to Roamer. “Jesus you watch them.”

“Make some beans,” Roamer directed the two younger women. “There are some soaking on the stove. And make some corn bread.”

Chet agreed. Everyone needed some real food in their bellies.

“What about her?” Roamer asked.

“If she promises she won't start shouting at us again, we can release her.”

“Go to hell,” Shirley spat out.

“Leave her tied.” Roamer turned his back on her and signaled for the two young wives to get cutting on the meal.

The boiled beans, even with lots of pepper sauce, tasted flat to Chet. The corn bread was scorched, but good enough with the burned part sliced off. He'd not forget this poor meal for a long time.

When each man had eaten his fill, they loaded up their grumbling prisoner and then mounted their own horses.

The old woman was screaming again. The two young women had turned her loose. All three should have been taken in except no one in the posse would have wanted to stay and take care of the hogs.

On their way at last, going over the hill, Chet looked back at the stinking hog ranch. He'd not miss any of it. Roamer, too, acted glad to be away from there, but the strong smell of hogs would be stay in Chet's nose for several days. He could only imagine how far the three women would run.

They camped at a ranch that night. Leaving their prisoner chained to a wagon wheel, they ate at the house. The woman served well-cooked beans and bacon with some wonderful Dutch oven biscuits and real butter. The man, Howard Temple, visited with them about the Marconis.

“I never trusted them. Sneaky. I caught them hauling a cow carcass off. They said they found her dead, but they'd already skinned her out and she bore my brand. I recalled her being fine a few days before. But what could I do? I went to watching them and they must have noticed 'cause they didn't ride my range again.”

“Where did they go?” Chet asked.

“Up on the rim I guess. There's lots of wild country up there. They must know you have evidence on them. You may never see them again.”

Roamer shook his head. “Guess we will see about that, huh?”

Chet hated them getting away, but with federal and Wells Fargo rewards, the three may get run down by bounty hunters.

When they reached Rye the next day, Chet bought food supplies and loaded the packhorses. They headed west on the trail for the Verde. Nightfall came and they camped. The temperature dropped after sundown and everyone took a turn at watching the sullen prisoner sleep.

The next day they crossed the Verde river and reached Yeager's ranch by mid-afternoon.

His wife Sheila made them sit and eat a real meal. The saddle-weary crew never argued. They left the prisoner chained and under a blanket. The warmth of her house and fireplace drove the cold out of them. Her rich food spoiled them and they all smiled at her generous ways.

“Sheila,” Lefty said. “Ma'am, if you ever need anything, let us know. For something as little as a polecat killing your chickens, we'll ride over here and get rid of him.”

“Yes,” Roamer said. “As long as you feed us.”

They all laughed

Yeager shook his head. “We appreciate all of you coming by. We don't get many folks. Come by here any time. Sheila will always feed you.”

 

 

On the way to Annie Smart's, Chet shot a fat deer and everyone helped him load it aboard the spare horse they were leading back to the man who'd had it stolen.

The short woman came out of her house shaking her head and laughing. “Chet Byrnes never forgets me. Take the buck in back and we can skin him.”

Turning toward the prisoner and then back to Annie, Chet asked, “We didn't get his father and two brothers, but do you recognize this one?”

“All I saw was that old man threatening me. Guess I am lucky to be alive. Hey guys, thanks for that fat deer.”

They strung it up and three of them sharpened their knives. In a few minutes, the carcass was skinned and gutted. They hauled it up and washed it with buckets of water. Returning to the front of the house, they each hugged her then left.

Hassayampa City came next and they arrived there after dark, ate at the café, threw the prisoner in the small jail, and slept in the hay at the livery. At dawn, they ate again at the café, got the prisoner, and then rode north. On the way, Roamer pointed out where the stage had been held up.

By late afternoon, they came where the road forked east of Preskitt and pulled over to say their good-byes.

Chet said to Lefty and Haze, “I'll see you two when you fill out your papers for your money. You can't miss Marge's. I'll pay you my part there and we can get you ready to go up on the rim.”

Haze shook his head, amused. “We're both going to stop and buy us some real underwear while we're here.”

“Do that. If you haven't got the money put it on my bill.”

Lefty reined up his anxious horse. “You really mean that, don't you?”

“I do. Cattle drovers say ‘you'd do to ride the river with' about men they like and trust. Both of you would do.”

“We've got the money, but thanks,” Lefty said. “You too, Jesus.”

“I am glad to have ridden with you. And you took Roamer.” Jesus waved good-bye and he and Chet galloped down the Preskitt Valley for home under dull and cloudy skies in the late afternoon.

His wife came out onto the porch. “My men are home.”

Chet gave Jesus the reins, dismounted, and met her halfway. He swung her around, then wondered if he was supposed to do that with her pregnant.

“I hurt you.”