The Deputy - Edge Series 2 (18 page)

The earnest lawman looked toward Carr behind the bar and the four men in front of it as he added: ‘That goes for you guys, too, you hear?’

All five spoke at once, obviously resentful that North should feel the need to tell them this. And Billy did much nodding before he assured:

‘You can trust me, Sheriff George.’

‘I sure hope I can. Appreciate you telling me what you did.’

‘I thank you for the whiskey.’ Billy thrust the bottle inside his much the worse for wear shirt. ‘And I will be much more in your debt if you do not let the Mexican Martinez know I told you of – ‘

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North growled: ‘The way things stand at the moment, I don’t figure him and me are on speaking terms, Billy.’

The scar faced man grinned, turned and grasped the hidden bottle with both hands as he broke into a trot down Main Street toward the start of the south trail.

‘Let’s go tell Ted what’s come up,’ North said and set off to cross the street. Edge ambled after him, starting to roll a cigarette. The well built, good looking Straker rose from behind the desk as the two men entered the office but was waved back into the chair by North as he strode to the rifle rack.

Martinez called from his cell: ‘Hey, sheriff, I saw my father and some of our men rode in awhile back!’

North growled: ‘There ain’t nothing wrong with your eyesight kid. Just your morals.’

‘Did he fix it for me to be turned loose?’

North unlocked the bar that held six Winchesters in place, took down two and secured the remaining weapons again.

‘Your old man is living in the same kind of dream world as you are, kid,’ he said as he passed one of the repeaters to Edge. Then he signalled to the intrigued looking Straker who pulled open a desk drawer and took out a box of shells.

‘Enough for a complete reload should be sufficient in the event of any trouble,’ the senior lawman told Edge, opened the box and counted out his share of the ammunition first.

The prisoner demanded in an embittered tone: ‘What trouble are you talking about, North? Look, I’ve got a right to know what my father said to you and what you plan to – ‘

‘Shut your rotten mouth, Martinez! Straker snarled, then lowered his voice to ask:

‘What’s up, George?’

‘I don’t know, to tell you the truth, Ted. But Edge and me have us an errand to run. And it’s going to take us the rest of the day. And some of the night.’

Then he lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned close to the man behind the desk to give Straker a brief account of what Billy Injun had seen and heard at the Navajo burial mound. Next straightened up and spoke more loudly.

‘Take good care of the prisoner, Ted. But if Martinez’s hired guns ride in and pull anything serious, don’t do anything stupid, uh son?’

The man in the cell vented a harsh laugh. ‘So, my father has tried to be reasonable with you to no avail. And now you fear he will – ‘

‘Don’t put your life on the line, Ted,’ North pressed on earnestly, driving Martinez into silence. ‘Or risk the lives of anyone else in this town.

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Martinez laughed derisively again.

‘Except for that murdering rapist, damnit!’ North went on and it was like each word was hewn from granite and he had to force it out from deep down inside. ‘His is the only skin not worth a wooden nickel around here.’

North spun on his heels and strode to the door where he jerked his Winchester to signal that Edge should follow him outside.

Straker called apprehensively: ‘George, what it you ain’t back before - ?’

‘We’ll be back!’ North interrupted adamantly. Then felt compelled to qualify the claim. ‘But if our luck should happen to run out . . . Hell, Ted, what would you do if I had a heart attack or something and keeled over for good? Do what you’d have to do in that event, damnit! Come on, Edge. Let’s get to the livery.’

Martinez muttered a string of Spanish profanities and rattled the cell door in sullen frustration.

North and Straker exchanged the kind of concerned looks only men who are very close friends can trade before the uneasy deputy said as the worried North jerked open the door: ‘I’ll count on seeing you sometime soon, George.’

‘Likewise,’ North answered in a cracked tone and was gone from the office, striding purposefully along the street.

From the doorway where he had paused to light the recently rolled cigarette, the Winchester lodged in the crook of an arm, Edge glanced impassively back at the melancholic man sitting at the desk.

Straker showed a scowl as he said: ‘Like for you to keep it in mind that George North isn’t just my boss, mister. So I’d appreciate it if you’d look out for him, uh?’

Edge said: ‘You already told me you’re North’s step son, feller.’

‘Yeah, and we’re a real close family.’

Martinez challenged: ‘Like my father and me. And he will do whatever is necessary to ensure that his only son receives justice.’

Edge swung off the threshold and growled on a stream of cigarette smoke: ‘I ain’t a family man myself, but I guess I’m ready to take a part in relation to trouble. Until somebody yells uncle.’

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CHAPTER • 11

_________________________________________________________________

AS GEORGE North, Edge and Rubio Rodriges started out from Bishopsburg at a
little after one o’clock under a blisteringly hot south western sun each of them was acutely aware that their small group aroused much apprehensive curiosity. For they could plainly see the doleful looks that were directed toward them and the way so many heads were turned abruptly away when there was a risk of making eye contact. And each man riding slowly south along Main Street from Rex Whitman’s livery stable thought he could understand why the townspeople were so disconcertingly intrigued. For they certainly comprised a motley looking trio.

The well known local sheriff accompanied by two strangers. One of these a virtually one eared, near toothless Mexican with a heavily bandaged shoulder who they had never seen until he showed up out of the blue and was given a job by Rex Whitman who had not ever needed help before. And the second, equally unknown to them, the sheriff’s taciturn and undemonstrative, hard looking new deputy who North had allowed to usurp the duties normally carried out by the familiar and trusted Ted Straker – while his young step son was left behind to guard the sullenly angry Jose Martinez.

Who peered balefully out from his cell window as the riders rode by and yelled through the bars he clutched with white knuckled fists: ‘Whatever does it,
gringos,
I sure hope something stops all your black hearts from beating and there is only this cowardly deputy between me and freedom!’

The departing trio were several yards beyond the jailhouse window when Straker snarled yet again, with a mixture of weariness and bitterness: ‘Shut your damn mouth, Martinez!’

Clear of the town limits to the south, North increased the pace and it was all but impossible to indulge in talk at a gallop. And just once North chose to break the vocal silence: when he shouted above the clatter of thudding hooves that the crudely built adobe off the trail to the right was where Billy Injun lived. But of the mix breed there was no sign as the riders swept by, trailing a billowing cloud of yellow dust. Not that there was any pressing need for talk among the three because all necessary discussion had taken place first in the law office then at the livery while Rex Whitman was absent: given a dollar by North to spend some time in the saloon along the street. 105

Where, unless he was a consummate actor, Rubio Rodriges was totally bewildered by what North told him about Isabella Gomez being alone at the Navajo burial ground. For, the Mexican maintained, this was certainly not the hide out where Alvarez and the others had intended to take her for safe refuge until the time for the trial. Nor was it the place where she had been held until she was brought to the Brady house last night. Then, persuaded it was not some elaborate trick, Rodriges revealed the safe place was the abandoned house of a ferryman who had once operated a Rio Grande raft crossing a dozen miles from where Billy Injun saw the woman.

After this there was no time for cross-examination nor any need to put pressure on the puzzled and distressed Mexican to ride with North and Edge. For he was clearly just as concerned about the fate of his brother and the rest of his
compadres
as was North about the changed situation.

It was past mid-afternoon, an hour after they had veered off the marked trail to head south east through the barren rolling hill country, when they first had a distant glimpse of the almost perfectly formed section of a sphere pocked with many dark holes that were reputed to be ancient burial chambers.

Most whites, North told Edge and Rodriges after they slowed their mounts to an easy walk as they closed with the hummock, figured the caves had been dug by men seeking to find something in the ground that was much more valuable than the bones of long dead Navajo braves.

Then as they rode to within a quarter mile or so of the mound and two lit cigars and the third a cigarette, Edge sensed they were under malevolent surveillance – but he knew this could be only in his imagination. And when he glanced at the other two he saw they were also tense with expectancy and guessed his own bristled and sweat run features were as grimly set as theirs when he said:

‘There was something we didn’t ask Billy Injun, feller.’

North scowled. ‘Yeah, I know. Which side of the hill she’s supposed to be holed up in, damnit!’

‘Right.’

‘So we must ride around it and hope that she recognises us and shows herself,’

Rodriges said.

‘Starting about now, I reckon,’ North said as they came to within two hundred yards of the start of the rise. Then took the lead, tugging on his reins to make a right turn. ‘You guys be ready to give as good as you get if the lead starts to fly.’

Rodriges swallowed hard and replied:
‘Si, senor.’

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He was patently the most apprehensive of the trio but Edge chose not to read anything suspicious into this as they moved off in single file, he riding drag. For it was natural that Rodriges should be the most nervous: because if Alvarez had planned a double cross then the already injured Mexican faced danger from two sides. They made a cautious circuit of the strange shaped hill which was featured with variously sized natural caves or man-made cavities on every aspect and returned to the point where they started. And by this time, as the sun touched the western horizon and the light began to fail, they had not seen a sign nor heard a sound of Isabella Gomez.

‘Perhaps she is asleep?’ Rodriges suggested without conviction as he tossed away his cigar butt then mopped the sweat of tension off his face.

North allowed in the same unconvinced manner: ‘Billy Injun reckoned she was damn near exhausted.’

Edge said: ‘That was before dawn. If this thing is on the level, she shouldn’t be in any mood to sleep long and easy. But if she is sleeping, some noise ought to wake her up.’

He touched the butt of the Winchester jutting from his saddle boot.

‘Or maybe she left,’ North said. ‘Had second thoughts about trusting Billy to do what she asked. Or she figured it was taking us too long to reach here so got scared enough to leave.’

‘You want me to ride nearer, sheriff?’ Rodriges asked. ‘Before it is too dark for her to recognise anybody unless they are close in front of her? And if it is a trap, I think I should be the one to . . ?’

He looked at North with a tacit challenge on his less than handsome face: for the first time almost putting into words what North and Edge had known he must have been thinking since they spoke in the Bishopsburg livery stable. North shook his head and briefly looked a little sheepish as he ditched his part smoked cigar. Then thrust out a hand and gripped the Mexican’s upper uninjured arm.

‘Amigo,
it’s natural I had some doubt at first. The way things have happened since we met up at the Brady place. I can’t think of any logical reason why Alvarez would double cross me. But to my way of thinking now, if that’s what he’s done, he’s screwed you as well.’

‘Muchas gracias.’

North withdrew his hand and raised it with the other to form a bullhorn at his mouth then shouted toward the hill:
‘Senorita!
Isabella! Isabella Gomez! I got your message and I’m here like you wanted!’

The horses were skittish after the long ride through the high heat of the day. And the sudden intrusion of strident sound caused them to bridle, whinny and shudder beneath 107