Louisiana Stalker (14 page)

Charles showed Clint, Capucine, and Henri each to their own room.

“We have bath facilities,” he told them.

“I would like a hot bath,” Capucine said.

“Yes, ma'am.”

Clint and Henri both declined the offer, but they had pitchers and basins in their rooms, and towels. Clint used his to clean up, then walked to the window to look out. He thought about Eclipse in Baton Rouge, and hoped the liveryman was looking after him.

There was a knock on his door, and then the door opened. Henri walked in.

“Is there gonna be any shootin' this time, boss?”

“I hope not,” Clint said, “but I can't promise.” He saw the disappointed look on his face. “Sorry,” he said.

“I guess I'll just have to keep my head down.”

“Henri, how bad could the flooding be in Baton Rouge?” Clint asked.

“Pretty bad,” Henri said.

“How bad?”

“Things floating down the street, that bad.”

“What kinds of things?”

“Lots of things,” Henri said. “Barrels, buggies, bodies—”

“Bodies?”

“Dead bodies from the cemeteries,” Henri said, “or people who have drowned. Sometimes you'll see the bodies of animals—dogs, cows, horses.”

“Horses?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I left a horse back there, in one of the liveries.”

“Oh, well, those guys are pretty good about caring for animals in their charge,” Henri said. “They'll get them to high ground.”

“They will?'

“If they have enough warning.”

“How about out here?” Clint asked. “How would we have any warning?”

“We wouldn't, I guess,” Henri said, “unless somebody came ridin' out, or Mr. Pivot got a telegraph message.”

“The telegraph still works in a flood?”

“In a flood, yeah, I guess,” Henri said. “The wires are up kinda high.”

“What about in a storm like this?”

“More than likely,” Henri admitted, “the wires would be down.”

“Then how would Pivot have gotten a telegraph message about Baton Rouge being flooded?”

Henri shrugged and said, “He wouldn't.”

“Damn it!” Clint said, heading for the door.

“What?” Henri asked.

“He lied to us!”

He was out the door before Henri got himself turned around to follow.

Clint ran down the hall to the room Charles had put Cappy in, but when he burst in, she wasn't there. Henri came running in behind him.

“What's happening?”

“Pivot lied,” Clint said. “Now he has Cappy somewhere. We have to find her.”

“B-But where?”

“Downstairs. Come on.”

They ran downstairs and the first thing they saw was water coming in from beneath the door.

“Oh, no,” Henri said, pointing.

“I see it.”

“The levee must have broken.”

“How deep will it get?”

“There's no tellin',” Henri said. “It may take a boat to get out of the bayou.”

“And this has happened before?”

“Yes.”

“Why do people live here?”

Henri had no answer for that. Instead he said, “I'll have to release my horse so he can find higher ground.”

“Okay, you do that,” Clint said, “and I'll keep looking.”

When Henri opened the door, more water gushed into the house.

“It's already knee deep,” he called.

“Be careful,” Clint said.

He started to search through the house, but all the rooms seemed empty. He stopped in the large living room and looked around. Where else could he search?

If Pivot was lying, then Cooper wasn't lying. That meant that he had worked for the man. Did that also mean he was telling the truth about Pivot having six men?

“Capucine!” he called out.

He heard something. A muffled sound, and then a thump.

“Cappy!”

More thumping.

“Keep it up,” he yelled. “I'll find you.”

The thumping continued until Clint reached the fireplace. He felt around it, and along the mantle, finally found a loose stone, and moved it. The fireplace moved, opened.

Behind it was a space just large enough to hold Cappy, who was tied to a chair. She'd barely had room to bang her feet against the back of the fireplace.

Clint pulled the chair out into the room and untied her.

“Who put you in there?”

“Jacques and his man, Charles.”

“Just those two old men?”

She glared at him and said, “They had guns.”

“And we still do, too.”

Clint turned, saw Pivot and Charles standing in the doorway, each holding a gun.

“Where are your other men?” Clint asked.

“I have no other men,” Pivot said. “Oh, Charles and I often use younger men to do our bidding, but apparently you killed the one I had watching Capucine.”

“I didn't kill him,” Clint said. “Keller did. And Cooper killed Keller.”

“And Cooper?”

“I killed him,” Capucine said, “and his wife.”

“Too bad,” Pivot said, “she was a lovely little Cajun.”

“So now what?” Clint asked. “The water's rising outside, even as we speak.”

“Charles and I know what to do,” Pivot said. “We've been through this before.”

“And us?”

“You'll drown in the flood.”

“Why?”

The old man shrugged his bony shoulders.

“Why not?” he said. “Losing Capucine will cripple Devereaux.”

“And me?”

“Wrong place, wrong time, Mr. Gunsmith,” Pivot said. “Although I do get a thrill from knowing that I will be killing a legend.”

“How do you propose to drown us?”

“Well, first you'll put her back in that chair. Then we'll find a chair for you.”

“Really?” Clint asked. “The two of you will tie me to a chair?”

Charles suddenly looked a bit nervous, and the gun in his hand wavered.

“Drop your gun,” Pivot said.

“If I take my gun from my holster, it will be to kill the two of you,” Clint said. “Why would you have a man follow Capucine and never make a move?”

“He was supposed to make a move,” Pivot said. “The fool fell in love with her. All he wanted to do was watch her.”

Clint looked at Capucine, then back at Pivot.

“That happens to men,” Clint said.

“Younger men,” Pivot said. “Everything happens to younger men.”

“Is that it?” Clint asked. “You hate younger men?”

“Why not?”

“It's not their fault,” Clint said, “
our
fault, that we're young or that you're old.”

“Drop your gun.”

“I can't do that,” Clint said, “and I can draw and fire before you pull the trigger. Believe me.”

Clint could see that neither of these men was used to holding a gun. Neither of them had their finger on the trigger yet. But they had no younger men around to do the job for them.

“So? What do we do?” Clint asked.

“Shoot him,” Pivot said.

Clint saw Charles move his finger to the trigger. Clint drew and fired. The old man crumbled to the floor. Pivot jumped, startled. He tried to pull the trigger of his gun, but his hand wouldn't cooperate.

Clint walked across the room and took the gun from the man's hand.

“Goddamn hands!” Pivot swore.

Henri came running in.

“The water's rising.” He was wet to his torso.

Clint looked at Pivot.

“You said you and Charles have been through this before. How were you going to get out?”

“I hope you can swim,” Pivot said peevishly. He walked to the sofa and sat down painfully.

“What do we do?” Capucine said. She was looking out the window. “It's rising fast.”

“Pivot,” Clint said, “is Baton Rouge really flooded?”

Pivot didn't answer. He was sitting on the sofa with his chin down on his chest.

“Is he asleep?” Cappy asked.

Clint walked to Pivot, touched his shoulder, then his back.

“No,” he said, “he's dead.”

“And so are we,” Henri said.

“There must be a boat around here,” Clint said. “That's the only way Pivot could have figured getting out.”

“By the time we find it, the water could be over our heads,” Cappy said.

“We have no choice,” Clint said. “We have to start looking.”

At that moment a window broke and water began to pour in. At the same time there was pounding on the front door.

“See who that is!” Clint snapped. “Cappy, see if those sofa cushions will float.”

“You really think these will save us?”

“I don't know,” Clint said. “I've never been through a flood before. Storms yes, but not floods.”

“Boss,” Henri said, rushing back, “you better look at this.”

Henri led the way to the door, Clint and Cappy behind him. Outside they saw a rowboat floating, tied to one of the pillars.

“Who put that there?” Cappy asked.

“It doesn't matter,” Clint said. “Let's get out of here!”

Baton Rouge was not under water.

The levee had held; the city—and Eclipse—were safe. Clint discovered this when he, Cappy, and Henri returned from the bayou. The boat had taken them only so far, and when the water level receded, they got out and walked. By the time they got back, Capucine was happy to return to her house, with her husband.

“I've had enough excitement for one lifetime,” she told Clint. She kissed his cheek and they said good-bye.

As for Henri, his cab was gone but his horse had found its way back to Baton Rouge. Clint decided to buy the young man a new cab. He felt he owed him that much.

Clint went to the livery to check Eclipse. He checked the horse over and the big Arabian was no worse for the wear. He thanked the liveryman and left the horse there for one more day.

He needed one night in his hotel to sleep in a bed and get some rest. He also wanted to think about the appearance of that boat outside Jacques Pivot's house. Somebody had tied off the boat, pounded on the door, and then beat a hasty retreat. Who had that person been? And how had they gotten away from the flood?

Whoeve
r it was had saved his life.

Why?

 • • • 

The next day Clint left Baton Rouge on horseback, heading back to Texas. He'd had enough of Louisiana for a while. Hadn't even gotten to gamble. Maybe he should start thinking about himself after all these years and stop trying to help people. Yeah, right.

 • • • 

Behind Clint, and keeping out of sight for now, the man—
his
stalker—followed. Adams was lucky that he had followed him to the bayou and found that boat. The boat had been hidden in the woods next to a canoe. He tied the boat in front of the house for Adams and his companions, and had then taken himself to safety in the canoe. He had no idea who the boats belonged to, but whoever it was had pretty much saved them all from the flood.

The stalker decided to let Adams get to Texas before he closed the distance on him. Maybe, after following the Gunsmith for all these weeks, it was time to take the next step.

Watch for

THE SILENT DEPUTY

385
th
novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series from Jove

Coming in January!