LONGARM AND THE BACKWOODS BARONESS
By Tabor Evans
Synopsis:
Darn shame, thinks Longarm. The normally pleasing odor of the timber country now reeks with the stench of varmint--the lying, cowardly kind. There's a war of sabotage and subterfuge going on between the cowboys and the lumberjacks. Longarm's been sent to settle things down, but he's got a conflict of interest. See, the lumber camp is headed up by a beautiful widow named Aurora McEntire. And on the other land there's a comely cattleman's daughter named Molly Kinsman. Life's just unfair. But then, so's death. 222nd novel in the "Longarm" series, 1997.
CHAPTER 1
Cheroot clenched between his teeth at a jaunty angle, Longarm marched through the outer office and past the open-mouthed Henry, who called out futilely, "Marshal Long, just a minute-"
Longarm stalked into the office of his boss, Chief Marshal Billy Vail. The banjo clock on the office wall showed the hour as being just after nine o'clock. It was not unheard of for Longarm to arrive at the Federal Building in Denver this early in the morning, but it was a mite rare. Billy Vail frowned and opened his mouth to say, "What-"
"I quit," said Longarm. Vail gaped at him.
Longarm took the little folding wallet containing his badge and bona fides from his inside coat pocket and dropped it on the desk. He grinned at Vail. "Getting married," he said. The cheroot waggled merrily.
Vail's mostly bald head began turning pink. "Damn it, Custis!" he burst out after a moment. "What in blazes are you talking about?"
"The holy state of matrimony, old son. You've got a wife. You ought to know better'n anybody the joys and privileges o' wedded bliss."
"But you... you..." Vail sputtered. "Hell, Longarm, you know the old saying. You're already getting the milk for free, so why buy the-"
Longarm held up a hand, palm out. "Don't say it, Billy. I've seen the error of my ways. It's time I made an honest woman out of that friendly widow who's been keeping company with me."
Vail put his hands on his desk and levered himself to his feet. "That friendly rich widow?"
"Billy, you wound me deeply!" Longarm exclaimed, placing a hand over his heart. "The fact that she just picked up a tidy little dividend from some of her investments has got nothing to do with my decision."
With a snort, Vail shook his head. "To think that I'd lose my best deputy to something so venal as greed." He picked up a folder from his desk and shook it at Longarm. "And just when I was about to give you a new assignment too!"
Almost against his will, Longarm found his eyes drawn to the folder in Vail's hand. "New assignment?" he heard himself repeating.
"That's right. Figured you could handle it better than any of my other men."
"Is that so?" Longarm sat down in the leather chair in front of Vail's desk and cocked his right foot on his left knee. "I reckon it wouldn't hurt anything to listen to the details."
"Oh, no," Vail said, looking aghast. "You're not a federal officer anymore, remember? You resigned, turned in your badge." He sank into his chair and gestured to the wallet Longarm had tossed so casually onto the desk a few minutes earlier. "I'll just have Henry send word for one of the other deputies to come in. Mike Davis, maybe. He hasn't had an assignment in a while."
"Davis!" repeated Longarm. "The reason Davis ain't had an assignment lately is 'cause he couldn't find his ass with both hands!"
"I imagine he can handle this," Vail said confidently. "Of course, people are getting killed, and the government's got quite a bit of money riding on things, so I hope he can get this mess untangled kind of quick-like."
"Damn it, Billy," Longarm said as he leaned forward and reached for the folder on Vail's desk. "At least let me take a look at the paperwork. Maybe I could suggest somebody-"
"Get your hands off that folder, Long." Billy Vail's voice was as cold as the snow and ice that still capped the peaks of the Front Range, despite the fact that it was summer. "That's the property of the United States Justice Department, and like I said, it's none of your business anymore."
"But Billy..."
Vail leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his ample middle. "Why, if you were to pick up that folder and read the report inside, I'd have to assume that you were rescinding your resignation and wanted to be considered for the assignment. In that case, you'd have to pick up your badge and your identification papers too."
For a long moment, Longarm stared across the desk at his former boss. Then he sighed and stubbed out his cheroot in Vail's ashtray. With his right hand he reached for the folder, while with the left he scooped up the wallet containing his badge. "You're a hard-hearted son of a bitch, you know that?" he muttered.
"Damn straight." As Longarm opened the folder, Vail added, "Looks like you're going back to timber country."
"Yeah. Looks like." Longarm started reading.
A half hour later, as he strode out of the Federal Building with travel vouchers and a copy of the report folded up in his coat pocket, he lit another cheroot and took a deep drag on it. Then he turned and looked through the crystal-clear air at the mountains and felt, as he always did, the irresistible pull of faraway places and new challenges. Once again, he was free to answer that siren's call.
Grinning to himself, Longarm said quietly, "Much obliged, Billy. Reckon I must've been out of my head, 'cause I pert' near made a mighty big mistake."
His mistake, Longarm reflected as he ducked the huge, knobby fist coming right at his face, had been getting off the damn train in the first place. He should have turned around and gone back to Denver and that rich widow. Cussing himself for his own indecisiveness and Billy Vail for being so blasted smart, he threw himself forward, driving his shoulder into the belly of the man who was trying to knock his head off.
The lumberjack staggered backward on the platform of the train station. Longarm caught hold of the man's legs and heaved upward, and with a wild yell the lumberjack went over on his back, landing heavily on the planks. Longarm almost fell too, but he caught his balance in time to stay upright. He twisted around, waiting to see who was going to jump him next.
Instead, he saw that the ruckus was about to escalate from fisticuffs to gunplay. One of the cowboys was reaching for a Colt.
Longarm stepped forward quickly, palming out his own.44 from the cross-draw rig on his left hip. The cowboy who figured to start shooting had his back half-turned to Longarm, so Longarm was able to take him unawares and clout him on the skull. The puncher's high-crowned hat absorbed most of the blow's force, just as Longarm intended, but it was still enough to drive him to his knees and make the half-drawn gun slip from his fingers.
Since he already had his own Colt in his hand, Longarm put a round into the roof that extended out over the platform. The roar of the gun made the brawlers scattered around the platform stop what they were doing. In some cases, they froze with fists cocked back in readiness for another punch.
"That's enough, damn it!" shouted Longarm. "Next fella who throws a punch is liable to be hobbling for the rest of his life from a bullet through the leg!"
One of the lumberjacks glowered at him and demanded, "Who the hell're you, mister?"
"And what gives you the right to go mixin' in with our business?" added one of the cowboys.
"I'm a gent who just waded into a fight that ain't any of his concern," said Longarm, preferring not to flash his badge and reveal his true identity this early in the case, "but when you go to trying to knock my head off, I'll make it my business."
"Nobody figured to hurt you, mister," said one of the lumberjacks, rubbing a sore jaw. He pointed across the platform, where the cowboys were regrouping. "It's them damn cow nurses who caused all the trouble!"
"That's a damn lie!" shot back one of the cowboys. "It was you ax-swingin' bastards who bulled in where you weren't wanted!"