“You're crazy!”
“Nope, just practical. The senator's not going to want to have anything to do with a gal who's on trial for attempted murder. Not when he's married to somebody like Nora.”
“He'll never be married to her!” Emily blazed at him. “I told you you don't know what you're talking about. She'll be dead!”
“Because Palmer wants her dead,” Longarm said quietly, putting some of the pieces together in his mind. “He didn't want me to look for her in the first place. Canady must have insisted that they bring in the Justice Department, and Palmer didn't have any choice but to go along with him. But then he sent you after me to make sure I didn't find Nora. When that didn't work, he hired Carter.”
“You think you're so damned smart.”
“Smart enough to figure out that after Carter killed me, he was supposed to eliminate Nora too. That's why you said the senator would never marry her. Why would Palmer want to kill the woman he was supposed to marry?”
Emily said, “I'm not going to tell you anything else, you bastard. You don't stand a chance against Jonas. He's smarter than you.”
“Maybe so, but I'm still loose, and he can't be happy about that.” Longarm let go of her with one hand and reached into his pocket for his bandanna. “Open your mouth.”
“The hell with that! You can goâ”
He didn't want to listen to that downright unlikely suggestion again, so while her jaw was flapping angrily, he shoved the balled bandanna into her mouth. While she tried unsuccessfully to spit it out, he hooked a foot behind her legs and pulled them out from under her. Emily sat down hard on the floor of the alley.
Longarm ripped a strip off the hem of her dress and used it to tie the gag in place, then tore another strip to bind her wrists behind her. Emily struggled all the time he was doing that, so he was a little breathless by the time he got through tying her feet together with another strip of fabric.
, He dragged her over to a clump of mesquite trees behind the buildings. “You'll be all right here for a while,” he told her. “There's supposed to a sheriff in this town, but even if there is, I ain't got time to roust him out. Just lay there and be quiet. Somebody's bound to be along directly.”
She made furious, muffled noises at him.
“Sorry to have to treat you so bad. But you shouldn't have tried to stick that knife between my ribs neither.”
He left her under the trees and returned to the narrow passage beside the saloon. Staying near the wall so the stairs wouldn't creak, he climbed swiftly to the second floor and eased the door open a fraction of an inch.
Emily had been right about one thing: Palmer had expected her to return before now. In fact, the senator was standing in the corridor, and he sounded downright worried as he said, “Forget about Long for now, Carter. See if you can find Emily.”
The hired killer was standing with Palmer just outside the door of the senator's room. He nodded and said, “I'll check downstairs. That was where she was going.”
“I know that, damn it,” snapped Palmer. Longarm watched as Palmer rubbed a weary hand over his face. “I can't afford to have the wrong people get their hands on her. She knows too much about my deal with Canady.”
Longarm stiffened. That told him a little more about Palmer's reasons for wanting his fiancée dead, but it raised even more questions. Bryce Canady was in on this too? It sure sounded that way.
But Longarm had a hard time reconciling that theory with the worry, the outright fear, he had seen on Canady's face there in Billy Vail's office. Canady had seemed genuinely mystified about his daughter's disappearance, and Longarm would have bet money on the fact that all Canady wanted was Nora's safe return.
Well, he'd have to puzzle that out later, Longarm told himself. He waited until Carter had gone downstairs and Palmer had stepped back into the room. Then he opened the door the rest of the way and moved into the corridor. He drew his gun as he went to the senator's room and knocked sharply on the door.
Palmer yanked it open a second later, saying, “That was fastâ”
He stopped in mid-sentence as Longarm dug the barrel of the Colt into the soft flesh under his chin.
“Howdy, Senator,” Longarm said quietly. “I reckon you didn't expect to see me.”
Palmer started making little noises, and Longarm knew he was about to yell. Longarm pressed harder on Palmer's throat with the gun and shook his head.
“Wouldn't do that if I was you. I'm feeling a mite perturbed right about now, Senator. Come to find out you never wanted me to find Miss Canady after all. You just wanted me dead.”
With the pressure of the gun, Longarm forced Palmer backward several steps. Longarm used the heel of his boot to kick the door closed behind them. A glance around the room told him that he and Palmer were alone.
But for how long?
“Marshal Long,” Palmer grated between clenched teeth, “what the hell are you doing?”
“Talking to a low-down, double-crossing skunk,” said Longarm.
Despite the situation, a smile stretched across Palmer's face. “I've served in the United States Senate for seven years, Long. You're going to have to do better than that if you want to insult me.”
Longarm felt like pistol-whipping the son of a bitch, but he controlled the impulse. “Why'd you send Carter after me?” he asked. “What is it you're trying to hide, Senator?”
“I don't know what you're talking about. And I'm going to have your badge for assaulting me, Long!”
“Go right ahead and try to have me fired, mister. We'll see how far you get once that lady friend of yours who just left here is done talking.”
That got the reaction Longarm had hoped for. Palmer's eyes narrowed, and he said angrily, “Emily? You have Emily?”
“Yep. And she was right eager to talk, once I explained to her how long she'd have to go to prison for trying to murder a federal officer. She said you put her up to it, just like you hired Carter to kill me later on. And she told me how you planned to have Carter kill Miss Canady too, once he caught up to her.”
“Emily wouldn't talk to you,” Palmer said with a sneer, but Longarm heard a faint quiver of uncertainty in his voice.
“Maybe you should have thought about how it would make her feel to share your bed and do your dirty work, when all the while you were planning to marry another woman.”
Palmer blinked rapidly, nervousness now visible on his face. Longarm had played two opponents against each other before, and it usually worked. He could only hope that it would in this case too.
“Emily doesn't know nearly as much as she thinks she does,” blustered Palmer.
“Enough to ruin your career and put you behind bars.” Longarm paused and then added meaningfully, “Unless it was all Canady's idea.”
“Bryce? He wouldn'tâ”
Palmer stopped abruptly, realizing that he had almost revealed too much. What he had said made Longarm believe that Canady hadn't known anything about Carter's involvement. The railroad baron might be up to something no good with Palmer, but at least his concern for his daughter had been genuine.
“So you hired Carter on your own,” Longarm said. “That means you're the only one who wants Miss Nora dead. That's mighty interesting, considering that you were supposed to be married to her by now.”
“I would have been too,” Palmer practically spat. “None of this would have happened if she hadn'tâ”
A heavy knock sounded on the door.
Longarm reached for Palmer's shoulder, intending to haul the senator around in front of him to use as a shield just in case Carter came busting in that door, but Palmer surprised him. Disregarding for the moment his own personal safety, Palmer lashed out, aiming a kick at Longarm's groin. Longarm was forced to twist in order to take the kick on his thigh, and that pulled the gun away from Palmer's neck long enough for the politician to grab Longarm's wrist. “Carter!” Palmer shouted. “Get in here!”
Longarm didn't bother trying to jerk the wrist of his gun hand out of Palmer's grip. He swung his left fist instead, smashing it into Palmer's midsection, then backhanded the senator when Palmer doubled over in pain. That knocked Palmer loose from Longarm's gun hand.
Pivoting smoothly toward the door, Longarm was ready when Carter kicked it open. Carter had to hesitate, to make sure that Palmer wasn't in the line of fire before he started shooting. Longarm didn't have to wait. He triggered two shots toward the opening as soon as the door flew back.
Carter went diving to the side, and Longarm didn't know if he had hit the man or not. He turned, slashing at Palmer with the Colt as he did so. The barrel raked across Palmer's face, the sight opening a nasty gash in his cheek. Palmer flew backward, leaving Longarm with an open path to the room's single window.
That was one hell of a way to leave the room, but Longarm didn't see anything else he could do. Carter was in the hall, and the other five hired killers were downstairs. Longarm took a couple of steps and then lunged, ducking his head to protect his face from flying glass as he crashed out through the window, taking its flimsy frame with him.
There was no balcony outside the window, but there was a roof over the boardwalk in front of the saloon. Longarm had noticed it earlier. He fell only about four feet before he hit the slightly sloping roof. He rolled over once, caught himself, and threw a shot in the busted-out window to discourage Palmer and Carter from using it to fire at him. He kept rolling and dropped off the edge of the roof.
This fall was a little farther, a good ten feet to the street. Longarm landed on his boots and went down into a crouch, but he managed not to fall over. Pain shot through his side at the impact, and he was sure he had torn the wound open again. He couldn't worry about that now. Carter's men would be rushing upstairs to see what was happening, but it wouldn't take them long to realize he had gone out through the window. Already, he could hear Carter shouting, “Downstairs! He's down in the street, you idiots!”
Longarm broke into a run that carried him across the street. He couldn't go back for Emily, couldn't do anything except get to the dun and ride out of Monahans as fast as possible.
He was limping a little as he hurried down the alley next to a building that housed a general mercantile. He thought he had the right place, and sure enough, when he emerged into the rear alley, he spotted the dun in the moonlight. The horse was still tied to the greasewood tree. Longarm grabbed the reins, jerked them loose, and swung up into the saddle with no regard for the small but spreading patch of wetness on his side. The blood from the wound must have already started soaking through the bandages Beth had tied tightly around him.
He kicked the dun into a gallop. The running hoofbeats would be plainly audible in the night. Carter and the rest of the hired guns could follow him by sound alone if they got a quick start.
That was all right with Longarm. The wound in his side ached, and his leg had been hurt a little in the fall from the roof, but there was nothing wrong with his brain.
And he had an idea about how he might be able to settle this whole mess, once and for all.
Provided nobody killed him first, of course ...
Chapter 18
Longarm circled Monahans and rode north, skirting the western edge of the sand hills. He probably could have lost the pursuit by entering the dunes, but that wasn't what he wanted. The way he saw it, his best chance to settle everything depended on Carter's men being able to follow him.
His plan was dangerous, especially for Nora Canady, but there was no way to keep her out of danger now. He had already tried once to get her away from the Wallace gang, and all that had gotten him was a hot lead furrow plowed in his side. Nora would just have to take her chances.
Besides, if he could get his hands on her again, she might be more reasonable this time, since he now knew that her prospective bridegroom wanted to kill her. Nora must have known that too, and that was why she had left Denver and taken off for the tall and uncut. If Longarm could get her away from the outlaws and convince her that he wouldn't be taking her back to her death, maybe he could find out
why
it was so important to Palmer to get rid of her. It was something to do with some deal Palmer had with Bryce Canady, Longarm knew that much....
He was glad the dun had had a chance to rest at Beth Jellicoe's ranch. He called on the horse now for all the strength and stamina it possessed. A glance over his shoulder showed Longarm the lights of Monahans receding in the distance to the south. A haze of dust hung in the air between Longarm and the settlement, vaguely visible in the starlight. That would be the dust from the horses of Carter and his men, thought Longarm. The hired killers were after him, all right.
That was just what he wanted.
He rode steadily on through the night, keeping the dun moving at a good pace. The bleeding in Longarm's side had stopped. At least, the wet place on his shirt was no longer getting any larger. The place hurt, but not more than he could bear.
The moon and stars wheeled through the black velvet sky, revealing the passage of time to Longarm. He kept the sand hills a couple of hundred yards off to his right, watching the terrain carefully. Not that there was much variation in it. The landscape was mostly flat and dotted with sparse vegetation. But there were a few landmarks, and Longarm took note of them, watching for particular ones.
It was well after midnight and the horse was beginning to tire when Longarm spotted a dune that stuck up particularly sharply on the very edge of the sand hills. The dune was topped by a dead, twisted bush. Longarm had seen that bush a couple of days earlier when he'd ridden out of the sand hills, just before his encounter with Beth Jellicoe, whom he had mistaken for Simeon Carter. He would never make that mistake again, hat or no hat, he told himself. Beth was a whole hell of a lot prettier.