On the Trail to Moonlight Gulch (36 page)

“What difference is it to you?”

Bilodeaux thrust out his chest. “He wastes a colossal resource that could benefit many.”

“If he refused to farm his land, would you bother him then too? There’s soil on it, rich soil. No law says he must cultivate it.”

“Laws are not always designed for justice.” Bilodeaux’s voice softened into something akin to a cat yelping for its meal. “If he refused to harvest a bountiful crop, ten thousand acres worth of ripe green corn, then, yes, I would say that I would bother him.”

“That’s a ridiculous analogy. It’s not the same thing, and you know it. Gold is just a rock.”

“It is a rock that has ruled the entire planet since before the white man stepped foot in the New World, from Tenochtitlan to Constantinople.”

A tear dropped from Tory’s eye and chilled his cheek. “You’re nothing but a bully, that’s all. A rotten bully.”

“Ah, you like to protect your man, do you not?” Bilodeaux chuckled.

Tory remained quiet, brooding. He sniffled. “What do you mean?”

“I know about the two of you,” he said. His words came at Tory like chucked pickaxes. “The night after his murder trial, I saw you lying in bed together, as if you and he had employed very little time sleeping.” He snickered.

Tory stiffened. He didn’t recall Bilodeaux intruding on them. He must have been out cold, exhausted and drained. Did Franklin know about this? Conjuring as much courage as he could, Tory said, “I don’t care what you think.”

“Do not be ashamed.” Bilodeaux again squatted near Tory. His breath was hot and bitter and reeked of cigars. “I can understand what Franklin sees in you.”

Tory flinched when Bilodeaux stroked his cheek with his broad thumb. He tilted his head, shaking off the bandit’s cold touch. Bewilderment and disgust sealed his lips.

“Do you know why I came into Franklin’s cabin that morning, hmm?” Bilodeaux stood and peered over Tory’s head toward the darkest recesses of the cave, the whites of his eyes like shards of crystal. “The boys in town talked me into standing up for myself. Ausmus had humiliated me in front of the entire town. I had thought drink goaded me. I rode out. My stallion knew the way, even in the dark.” He paused, reflecting. Then he blurted, “My intent was to shoot your Franklin between the eyes.”

Tory recoiled as if Bilodeaux had struck him. No words came to Tory’s quivering mouth. The cave grew smaller, suffocating him. He wanted to flee. But how might he make his escape?

Bilodeaux remained fixed, staring into the bowels of the cave.

“Yes, murder,” he said, snapping back to the present and gazing down at Tory. “Just like with that old sot, Johnson. After I blew Ausmus’s brains out, my plan was to burn his entire cabin with him in it. When I saw you lying in bed beside him, I sobered fast.” Bilodeaux waited, calculating, breathing heavy.

“You saved his life, ma pépite d’or,” he continued. “Because you had lain in bed with him, because you had given yourself to him as a woman might, you spared him. Did you ever think your lovemaking might prove so powerful?” He chuckled. “Your love for Franklin infuses me with power, as well, mon garçon. With you, I am certain your beau will give me everything I demand, so long as he can have you back in his bed. I know, I saw it in his eyes even in the dull light of dawn when I looked down at the two of you entangled like bougainvillea. He would rather lose his one remaining arm than lose you. Every man has a price. For your Franklin, that price is you.”

The impact of Bilodeaux’s words terrified Tory. No doubting his intentions. The bandit’s wrath derived from more than hunger for gold or that he thought Franklin “unnatural” for not lusting for it as most men did. Something more sinister and primitive prevailed. Bilodeaux saw Franklin as the epitome of the man he could never become, all that he could never achieve. His hatred for mankind had somehow coalesced into one target—Franklin Ausmus. Bilodeaux had used gold only as a pretext for his crusade. He wanted blood. Franklin’s blood.

And Tory, somehow, had to find a way to stop him.

Chapter 30

A
SICKLY
sound brought Franklin to his feet. Screaming and squealing, underlined by a grunt and a dull thump. With a lit lantern in hand, he rushed outside barefoot. Wicasha, who had slept in the barn the past few nights, was the first on the scene. He was already staring down the trail, where the sound of horses’ hooves faded into the pre-dawn. Franklin rushed over.

“Who was it?” he asked, observing that someone had left the gate open.

“I believe we’ve received Bilodeaux’s message.”

“What?”

“Over there.”

Franklin followed Wicasha’s pointing finger with his eyes. His mouth dry and his heart racing, he scurried over to the pigpen. In the glare of his small lantern, a gruesome sight froze him. One of the piglets lay dead outside the pen. Someone had cut its throat from ear to ear and left the knife plunged into its back.

A piece of paper, soaked in blood, was attached by the implanted blade. Trembling, Franklin lowered the lantern over the piglet’s carcass and read the note.
Your boy is alive, but it is up to you if he ends up like your piglet. If you choose to involve any officials, you will not like the consequences. More instruction to come.

Franklin dropped the lantern. Wicasha, who had chased after him, fell to his knees and snuffed out the small flames that had jumped onto the grass. He lifted the lantern as it flickered back to life. Franklin buried his head in his hand.

“That Bilodeaux,” Franklin whispered into his palm. “There’s no doubt now. I can spot that strange French-style script. I’ll kill him. I won’t let him get away with this. I’ll kill him. One way or the other, I’ll kill him.”

“Keep your mind straight,” Wicasha warned. “Don’t let him get you tangled. We’ll find Tory. Don’t worry. But for Tory’s and your sake, keep yourself thinking rational. If you go loony, you’ll fall right into Bilodeaux’s hands.”

“I can’t wait any longer, Wicasha.” Franklin gazed toward the trail where the pig-killer had escaped. “We have to do something.”

Wicasha brought the lantern to his side, away from his eyes. He looked into the cobalt sky, where tiny stars were fading and the Great Bear had shifted over the western mountains. Screwing up his eyes, he said, “Perhaps I’m the one who should do something.”

“What? You?”

“Yes.” Wicasha’s gaze locked onto the darkness. “I have scores to settle with Bilodeaux as well.” He turned to Franklin. “But you must stay here and wait for Bilodeaux’s next message, like his horrible note says. If he suspects you’ve left and gone for the authorities, he might stretch his scheme out for days. I can sneak away. He would not be so interested in me. I also know where he likes to hide out in the backwoods. He used to take me to certain spots when we were… before I realized what kind of man he was.”

Franklin still hesitated. “But Tory belongs to me,” he said without restraint. “I’m the one who should find him.”

“No time for you to play hero, Frank. The best thing for you to do is wait here.” Wicasha made to move. “I’ll need a sack with some supplies, the field glasses, a canteen of water, and three guns. A revolver, a rifle, and a shotgun, fully loaded.”

Despite his apprehension, Franklin rushed to gather the supplies Wicasha needed for his scouting trip. Once he collected everything, he handed the sack to Wicasha, who had dressed in his heavy buckskin outfit.

“I’ll be back, don’t worry,” he said. “We will find Tory safe. In the meantime, you keep still, Frank. I won’t be gone long. I will try to circle outward, then spiral back in. I’ll return back to Moonlight Gulch with or without Tory by tomorrow afternoon. If you’re not here, I’ll know that Bilodeaux has called for you, and I’ll wait for your return. Remember, stand your ground here.”

“Aren’t you taking a horse?”

“No, I’ll want to get through the thicker groves more easily. Best I scout on foot, like I used to when I was with the Army.”

“Take this.” Franklin thrust out the lantern he held.

“It’ll only burden me,” Wicasha said, raising his hand. “It’ll be light soon enough. Now remember all I told you. Keep your head.” He left without looking back.

Helpless and angry, Franklin watched him disappear into the dark.

Chapter 31


Y
OU
won’t get away with this, Bilodeaux,” Tory hollered, feeling bolder in front of the bandit after his second night in the cave. “They’ll hang you or put you behind bars for good. The law will catch up with you.”

Tory was eating beans the man Burgermyer had baked. Currently, Burgermyer was on his way to Moonlight Gulch to deliver a message, the second mission Bilodeaux had sent him on since last night. He had left late yesterday at Bilodeaux’s bidding, but Tory had failed to learn where to or for what purpose. Tory winced. Burgermyer had used too much of the spices he had swiped from Tory, and the beans tasted bitter. At least Bilodeaux had permitted him to eat.

“What law?” Bilodeaux shouted over his shoulder, his back to Tory where he sat by the fire. “I will have everything all legal. Franklin will sign over the deed to his land to me, and then, like each time before, if he accuses me of wrongdoing, it will be his word against mine.”

“I won’t let Franklin give up his land.”

“You are not the one to make that decision.”

“You believe Franklin will do anything to save me because of his love for me? Well, I, too, would do anything for Franklin out of love.”

“Even sacrifice your life?” Bilodeaux turned to Tory. Ominous shadows masked his face. Only the enamel of his teeth, from what must be one of his sneers, was visible.

“Yes,” Tory said, shivering. “Even my life.”

Bilodeaux turned his back to him. Smoke curled toward the small gap where scant sunlight cut through. “That may be. But your beau still has time. Burgermyer will give him word. If he longs for you as much as I suspect, within a few hours, the gold will belong to me to do what I wish with it—including allocate some to the unfortunates in the community—and you and Franklin can run off together and live like wolves.”

Tory dropped his spoon in the tin plate with a resonant clink. “Please, promise me you won’t hurt him. Just promise me that.”

“It will be up to your Franklin to decide how much harm will be done.” Bilodeaux turned around to face Tory again. He lifted a twig with a small flame on the end to illuminate his face. His contorted features belied no secrets. The oscillating flame revealed the anger, the desperation, the sickness eating away at his heart.

Dispirited, Tory slumped back, away from his empty plate, away from Bilodeaux. All the gold in the world would not quench the fiery hatred in Bilodeaux’s soul. Tory knew that. Bilodeaux would haunt Franklin until one of them or both died.

With his knees tight against his chest, Tory rested his forehead in the crook of his arm. Bilodeaux had outfoxed them. There was no way to save Franklin’s homestead. The law would rest on Bilodeaux’s side, like always. He bore the power and the money the bureaucrats in Spiketrout envied. Even Mayor Winters had sided with Bilodeaux in the past.

Just like in Chicago. Gangsters and politicians. They always stood shoulder to shoulder.

Tired and weak, Tory leaned against a mound of flowstone, wincing in pain. Those darn shotgun cartridges. He wanted to take them out of his coat pocket and chuck them, but Bilodeaux might grow angry that he had carried them.

Suddenly, a notion pushed him upright.

Tory knew that without him, Bilodeaux’s plans could not succeed. If he could only find a way to escape. Was it possible? But what if Bilodeaux had ordered guards to stand watch outside while Burgermyer was on his latest mission? Many men had formed allegiances with Bilodeaux for no good reason other than to get their greedy hands on Franklin’s gold.

Tory needed to find out.

“Is there a chance I might have some fresh air?” he said.

Bilodeaux’s laughter echoed off the cave walls. “Surely you do not think I am that stupid, mon tout beau garçon.”

“I only would like some fresh air to breathe, if for only a minute, to clean out my stinging lungs from the soot.” He faked a cough into his fist. “I’m sure I’ll be unable to get away, what with your henchmen all about guarding the entrance.”

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