Bounty on a Baron (13 page)

When Brand entered the saloon he saw Josephine seated at a table, drinking a glass of whiskey.

“Josephine!”

She looked up and saw him, and her eyes went wide. She wasn’t afraid any longer, though. She’d had very little liquor in her life, and two shot glasses had begun to make her feel giddy.

“Well, if it isn’t the notorious Baron,” she said, raising her glass to him. “Decker proving to be an elusive target?”

“What are you doing here?” Brand demanded. “Why aren’t you at the store?”

“Don’t wanna be at the store,” she said. “Don’t wanna be anywhere but here.”

Brand moved to the table, put his rifle down, and grabbed her by the arm.

“Come on—”

“Let go!” she shouted.

“Hey!” Potts said.

Brand glared at him and said, “You stay out of this, bartender!”

“She may be your woman, Brand,” Potts said, “but that ain’t no way to treat her.”

Potts started around the bar and Brand reacted through reflex—the reflex that had become part of the Baron’s life.

He drew and fired.

Josephine watched in horror as the bullet struck
Potts in the center of the chest. Potts stopped in his tracks, a puzzled look coming over his face. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and blood trickled from it.

He fell forward, dead.

“No!” Josephine shouted.

She ran and knelt by the body of the dead man, throwing an accusing look at Brand.

“You killed him!” she screamed. “You killed him for no reason!”

“I thought—” he said. “Bartenders usually have a shotgun behind the bar. I thought he was—”

“You didn’t think,” she said. “You just reacted the way a killer reacts. You’re a killer, just like Decker said.”

“Decker!” Brand shouted. “And what do you think Decker is? A saint?”

“He’s an honorable man. He knows what he is and what he does and he doesn’t try to hide it. He doesn’t go off and kill and then come back and hide behind a woman.”

“Is that what you think?” he said. “That I was hiding behind you?”

“Yes,” she said. “I think you’re a coward, Brand—or Baron, or whatever you call yourself! A coward, damn you!” she shouted, and she started crying.

Brand thought she was crying for the bartender or for Decker or for herself. It never occurred to him that she might be crying for him, for the man she had thought he was.

“All right,” he said, looking at his rifle. “All right, then.”

As if on cue, from outside came Decker’s voice.

“Brand! You in there, Brand? Or did you duck out the back door?”

“I’m here,” Brand called out, looking at Josephine. “I’m coming out, Decker.”

Josephine looked up at him then, her face streaked with tears, and said, “Don’t’—”

“Don’t kill him?” he asked. “That’s just what I’m going to do, Josephine. I’m going to kill him!”

As Brand went out the batwing doors, Josephine said in a low voice, “No, I mean…don’t go.”

Decker waited out in the street for Brand.

So, it would end this way after all.

BLAM!

Josephine knew that was no rifle, that could only have been a shotgun.

“Once,” she said to the dead Potts. “He fired once, just like you said.”

When Decker rode into the logging camp trailing a horse with a body slung over it, he drew a lot of attention. Dani Boone came out to meet him, as did Frenchie.

He did not see Jeff Reno.

“Decker, welcome back,” Frenchie said heartily. He looked pointedly at the body on the horse and asked, “Get what you were after?”

“I did,” Decker said, dismounting.

Looking anxious, Dani said, “Did he kill my father?”

“To be honest, Dani, he died before I could ask him.”

She compressed her lips and then said tightly, “You mean you killed him before you could ask him.”

“That’s true,” Decker said, “but I don’t believe he did it.”

“How can you—” she started, but Frenchie put his hand on her shoulder.

“Let the man talk, honey.”

“Are you missing any men?” Decker asked.

“Yeah,” Frenchie said, “as a matter of fact we’re missing two. I understand there’s also a man miss ing from one of the other camps. Why?”

“They trailed me and tried to kill me.”

“Why would they do that?” Dani asked.

“Because they were paid to.”

“By who?”

“By the man who killed your father and then tried to pin it on a professional killer called the Baron.”

“Who are you talking about?” Frenchie asked.

“Who first brought up the Baron’s name?”

Decker knew the answer, and as he watched Frenchie he saw the truth dawn on him, also.

“Reno.”

“Jeff Reno?” Dani said. “But why?”

“Maybe he figured he’d take over once your father was dead,” Decker said.

“But he didn’t. I came along. Why not try to kill me?”

“He couldn’t,” Decker said. “He had to first find out if I was dead or if I had reached the Baron. He couldn’t kill you and blame the Baron if the killer had been caught or killed himself.”

“Reno,” Frenchie said from between clenched teeth.

“Where is he?” Decker asked.

Dani looked at Frenchie.

“He’s on the south slope,” Frenchie said.

“Show me—” Decker said.

“Wait,” Frenchie said. “He won’t have a gun there, Decker. Let me handle it.”

“Are you sure?”

Frenchie smiled a terrible smile and said, “I’m very sure.”

He walked off, and a bunch of men trotted after him, not wanting to miss the fight that was sure to follow.

“Dani, Reno’s pretty big—”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Frenchie’s never been beaten, and he won’t be beaten by Jeff Reno.”

“Still—”

“Come inside and have a cup of coffee,” she said. “Do you want to spend the night?”

He looked at her face, but she had asked the question in total innocence, unaware of how it had sounded.

“I guess,” Decker said. “I’ll have to get started early in the morning, though. Do you want me to take Reno with me?”

“We heard that the marshal will be here at the beginning of the week,” Dani said. “We can hold Reno until then.”

A man took both horses from Decker, and he followed Dani to her cabin.

“Tell the marshal I’ll be glad to come back if he needs me.”

She stopped at the door, and before opening it, turned and said, “How about if I need you?”

He wondered if that had been said with the same innocence as her previous remark.

Decker pulled his horse up in front of the sheriff’s office in Douglas, Wyoming. He dismounted and tied off the horse that was hauling the Baron’s body.

The bounty hunter mounted the boardwalk and pounded on the door. Moments later Sheriff Calder came rushing out.

“What the hell—” he said, and then stopped short when he saw Decker.

“I brought you something,” Decker said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the second horse.

Calder looked at him, then walked over to the horse and held up the dead man’s head so he could see him.

“You ever meet the Baron?” Decker asked.

“Once,” Calder said, studying the dead man’s face.

“Is that him?” Decker asked.

Calder dropped the man’s head and said, “That’s him, all right. You got him.”

“I got him.”

“And you brought him all the way down here to me?”

“Yep,” Decker said.

The sheriff mounted the boardwalk, and Decker looked him right in the eye.

“I want signing my chit for the bounty on the Baron to be your last official act as sheriff of Douglas, Wyoming.”

a cognizant original v5 release october 04 2010

“Randisi always turns out a traditional Western with plenty of gunplay and interesting characters”

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Thrillers:

COLD BLOODED

BLOOD OF ANGELS

EAST OF THE ARCH

CURTAINS OF BLOOD

BLOOD ON THE ARCH

IN THE SHADOW OF THE ARCH

THE SIXTH PHASE

ALONE WITH THE DEAD

Westerns:

GALLOWS

BEAUTY AND THE BOUNTY

THE LAWMAN

DOUBLE THE BOUNTY

THE MONEY GUN

BLOOD TRAIL TO KANSAS

TRAPP’S MOUNTAIN

BACKSHOOTER

THE FUNERAL OF TANNER MOODY

LANCASTER’S ORPHANS

MIRACLE OF THE JACAL

TARGETT

LEGEND

THE GHOST WITH BLUE EYES

A LEISURE BOOK
^®

December 2009

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Copyright © 1988 by Robert Randisi

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