A Wolf in the Fold

Chapter 22

At three in the morning Whiskey Flats was a cemetery. Only a few windows glowed and they were in houses at the outskirts. The saloon, the stores, the livery, the restaurant had all long since closed.

I came in from the north, riding the mare and leading Brisco. I had switched back and forth to keep them fresh.

The hunted had become the hunter. I was searching for the Texas Rangers. They were a thorn that needed clipping. Worse, they were bound to try harder to find me once news of Phil Tanner’s fate reached town.

I reached the main street through a narrow gap between the general store and the butcher’s. The hitch rails were empty. Across the street was the restaurant. I could not go in the front. I crossed to an alley that brought me to the rear. Dismounting, I removed my spurs and crept to the back door. Calista did not keep it locked. I gingerly tried the latch, and pushed. The top hinge squeaked but not loud enough to wake anybody.

Her room was on the second floor, at the front. I slunk up the stairs and down the hall. A few of the boards creaked, but again, not loud enough that it would startle her boarders into wakefulness.

Her door was bound to be bolted. I crouched and scratched at it with my fingernails. She had a cat named Butch who spent as many nights out romancing the town’s female cats as he did snuggled in Calista’s bed. I was hoping he was off with a feline lady friend.

Calista took forever to wake up. I heard rustling, and a yawn, and the scrape of her feet. “Butch?” she said softly.

The instant the bolt rasped, I straightened and put my shoulder to the door. I caught her off guard. She stumbled back and had to grab hold of the bedpost to stay on her feet.

“What in—” Calista blurted, and put a hand to her cheek in amazement. “You! Alive!”

“Pleased to see you again, too,” I said, quietly closing the door, then throwing the bolt. I leaned back, my thumbs hooked in my gun belt. “Did you miss me?”

Calista was wearing a chemise as a nightshirt. A thin white chemise that was molded to the shape of her body and left nothing to be guessed at. I must have been staring because she wheeled and clutched a robe that had been thrown over a chair and hastily donned it. When she turned she had composed herself. “To say I’m surprised would not be entirely honest.”

“Oh?”

“A lot of LT cowboys have died in the past few days. The Texas Rangers are of the opinion you are to blame.”

“Parsons don’t generally go around bucking folks out in gore.”

“But you’re not a preacher, are you? You never were. The Rangers think you might be a notorious assassin by the name of Lucius Stark.”

“When did they come to that conclusion?” I was interested to know.

“Yesterday. They’ve had their suspicions. Something to do with a scar. They’re mad as can be about the trick you played on them.”

“What trick would that be?”

“You know very well. You pretended to be an LT puncher by the name of Jack Walker. Les was sure he should know you from somewhere, but he didn’t catch on until later.” Calista paused. “It’s true, isn’t it? You really hire yourself out to kill people?”

“I didn’t come here to talk about me.”

“Oh, God.” Calista sat on the edge of the bed and bowed her head. “And to think I was fond of you.”

“Was?” I said.

“You can’t expect us to continue being friends.” She made it sound like the most insane thing in all creation.

“I don’t see why not,” I responded. “I’m still the same man I was when I dressed as a parson.”

“But you’re not a parson, which is the whole point.” In her exasperation, Calista balled her fists. “How could I have been so dumb?” She gestured sharply. “I want you to leave and never return.”

I didn’t move. “I’d be obliged if you would hear me out first.”

“Nothing you say could possibly be of interest to me.”

“Not even the fact that Gertrude Tanner hired me to exterminate the Butchers? Or that she was the one who murdered Everett?”

That pricked her. She was intrigued despite herself. “How do I know you’re not making that up?”

“Someone had to hire me or I wouldn’t be here. Someone who could afford my thousand-dollar fee.”

“My word. You rate yourself highly, don’t you?”

Her sarcasm stung. “I rate my skills highly. But I don’t walk around with a mirror strapped to my chin, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Skills?” Calista repeated, and laughed me to scorn.

“Not everyone can core an apple at two hundred yards with a rifle, or twenty-five yards with a revolver. Not everyone can stick a knife in a bull’s-eye nine times out of ten. Not everyone has the patience to lie as still as a log a whole night or day, waiting for a perfect shot.” I confess I was stretching things. With a rifle I was good out to a hundred yards, with a revolver, maybe ten. I much preferred to use the scattergun or the garrote or the knife. “And not everyone can squeeze the trigger when a person is in their sights.”

“My, my,” Calista sniffed. “You recite all those accomplishments as if they are traits to be proud of.”

“Do you want to hear about Gertrude or not?”

“If you insist. But your skills, as you call them, do not inspire much confidence that you will tell the truth.”

I was about to say I would never lie to her, but that would make me the world’s biggest hypocrite.

“I’m waiting.”

I gave her all of it, or nearly all, from the moment I arrived in Whiskey Flats until right then. I left out the part about my feelings for Daisy. I left out that it was me who shot Sissy. I also glossed over the gore. And I sure as hell left out how I had boiled Phil Tanner alive.

Calista did not say anything for a spell. When she finally did it was not to accuse me of lying, but rather, “You think you know someone, but you never do. Gerty has always been headstrong. Arrogant, even. But I never suspected she could stoop so low.”

“Now you know.”

Calista gave me a peculiar look. “Why did you come here tonight? Why put yourself in danger to see me?”

“Everyone in town is asleep. I’m not in that much danger.”

“More than you realize. Those two Texas Rangers are in the room at the far end of the hall.”

My skin crawled at the blunder I had made. Word was, Rangers slept with one eye open. Sure, it was an exaggeration, but no one ever took them by surprise. It was always the other way around. I put my ear to the door but did not hear anything.

“So why did you?” Calista was focused on me as if the answer meant a great deal to her.

“To ask for your help.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“You’re the only real friend I have here,” I said. The only one left, anyway. “I was hoping I could rely on you.”

Calista smiled a strange little smile. “I thank you for the compliment, but I do not, as a general rule, make it a habit to associate with hired killers.”

“That was uncalled for.” I was beginning to regret my decision.

“Fair enough.” Calista leaned back. “Simply because you have me curious, what exactly is it you want me to do?”

“Help me take care of those two Texas Rangers.” I realized I had worded it wrong when her eyes widened and she went as rigid as a board and came up off the bed as if I had pricked her backside with a needle.

“How dare you! What manner of man are you that you can possibly think I would help you kill someone?”

“Slow down,” I said.

She stormed over to me and poked me in the chest. “Don’t tell me what to do, Mr. Lucius Stark! I am not like you. I can never do what you do. For you to imagine I can is an insult!”

Her voice was rising. I had to say something quick or she would wake everyone. “I’m not asking you to help me kill them. I’m asking you to help me not kill them.”

That stopped her. “I’m confused.”

“If you will sit back down and listen instead of chewing my head off, I’ll explain.” I gently took her by the shoulders and guided her to the bed. She did not resist although I swore she shuddered at my touch. Amazing how when you dress like a parson everyone adores you, but when you kill folks for a living, suddenly you’re about as adorable as the plague.

“I’m listening. This should be interesting.”

More sarcasm. I ignored it and pressed on. “I don’t want to have to kill the two Rangers if I can help it. The Texas Rangers are a close-knit outfit. Harm one and the others won’t rest until they hang you or treat you to lead.”

“That’s true,” she conceded.

“Believe what you want of me,” I said, and then mimicked her, “but I do not, as a general rule, make it a habit to kill lawmen. It brings more trouble down on my head than it’s worth. I avoid tin stars as much as possible. I’d like to avoid these two Rangers, too, but now they’ll be trying harder than ever to find me—” I had erred, and she caught on immediately.

“Wait a second. Why would that be?”

I wanted to kick myself.

“What have you done? Who have you murdered now?” Her hand rose to her throat. “Not Gertrude!”

“Not her,” I responded, thinking to myself, Not yet, anyway. “Will you let me finish, or not?”

“Continue.”

I sat on the edge of the bed. The smart thing to do was to stay by the door, but in my eagerness to convince her, I did not do the smart thing. “I need to take the two Rangers by surprise so I can disarm them.”

“What then? Do you shoot them when they are defenseless?” Calista stopped and frowned, then said softly, “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

“I figure if I can disarm them, I’ll take them to the south ten miles or so and leave them afoot, then come back, finish what I have to do, and be gone before they return.” My original notion was to have her send word to them, inviting them to her restaurant.

Calista gazed deep into my eyes. I had the impression she was trying to peer into my soul. As if anyone ever could.

“Well? Will you help or not?”

“I need time to think about it.”

“You have five minutes.” I could have given her until daylight, but her insults had rankled me.

“I need more than that. You’re asking me to break the law. I could be thrown behind bars.”

“I would never put you at risk.” I placed my hand on hers, but she would not permit the contact and slid hers onto her lap.

“Please don’t. It’s bad enough you betrayed my trust. Don’t pretend you care when you don’t.”

I thought of Daisy. “You would be surprised how much I can care. Killers have feelings like everyone else.”

Calista touched her fingertips to her forehead and said, “You say the darnedest things. I don’t know what to make of you. I honestly and truly don’t.”

“I’m just a man, like any other.”

“No, you are not. Most men would never do what you do. But let’s not go into that again.” Calista ran her hand through her hair. “What would you have me do?”

“It’s simple. Go to their room. Knock, and when they answer, tell them that you heard a noise outside and looked out your window and saw me riding down the street.”

“That’s all?” she said when I did not go on.

I nodded. “They’ll come rushing downstairs, half asleep and strapping on their revolvers. It will be easy for me to get the drop on them. I’ll make them chuck their hardware and the three of us will ride out of town with no one the wiser.”

“You won’t shoot them?”

I stood up. “What must I do to convince you? Swear on a stack of Bibles?” As if that made any difference.

“I would rather you didn’t. You have insulted the Lord enough for one life.” Calista offered a tiny smile to show she meant no slight.

“I suppose I have, at that.” I grinned.

Calista gnawed on her lower lip a bit. “You honestly and truly won’t harm them in any way?”

“I told you. I don’t want every Ranger in Texas after me.”

“But if you strand them, how will they fend for themselves without horses?”

“They’re Texas Rangers,” I reminded her. “They’re tough as rawhide. They can live off the land like Comanches. They’ll be fine.” She was on the verge of agreeing. I could see it in her face.

Suddenly there came a loud thump on the door.

“Lucius Stark! We know you are in there.”

Calista gasped.

“This is Deeter Smith of the Texas Rangers. You are under arrest! Come out with your hands in the air, or by God, we will break in and shoot you to pieces.”

“Damn!” I said.

No one had ever accused the Texas Rangers of making idle threats.