“People talk.”
Randy started to say something, but changed his mind. He clamped his mouth shut and found two clean water glasses. He filled them to the brim, and his hand was shaking so badly when he picked them up and extended one to Longarm that he spilled some whiskey.
“Who are you?” Randy whispered.
“To a better life,” Longarm said, ignoring the question as he raised his glass. “And to justice and a fresh start.”
Randy drank deeply and closed his eyes. Longarm watched as color flooded back into the kid’s face.
“You didn’t kill that man,” Longarm said gently. “Dean Holt was already a dead man. We all knew that. Your father killed him and you just put the man out of his misery. What you did was a kind and a merciful thing, Randy.”
Randy’s eyes popped open. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes, I do.”
“My father has a good side,” Randy said. “He’s always been good to Clyde and me. He’s never beat us and he’s always given us whatever we needed.”
“Except a respect for the law and for the lives of others,” Longarm said.
Randy bristled. “Maybe it looks that way to you, Custis, but he’s good to people who show him loyalty-“
“I’m not impressed. What right does your father have to judge and then execute someone like Dean?”
“The man broke our rules! Without that rule against killing each other, there would be a lot more bloodshed. It’s a rule that had to be made.”
Longarm shook his head. “I just have a hard time with someone who sets himself up with the power to give or take life. It’s not right and I think you know it.”
Randy drank quickly. His eyes blinked like things trapped inside a cage. “When are you going to tell me who you really are?”
“When the time is right.”
Randy heaved a deep sigh. “Why don’t we both just shut up and get roaring drunk!”
“Okay,” Longarm said, knowing the kid would tell him everything he needed to know about the Killion gang long before the night was over.
Chapter 15
Early the next morning, Longarm rolled stiffly off of a couch and shuffled over to look out through Randy’s hotel window. To the east, he could see the first faint glow of sunrise. Longarm wished he had a cup of coffee. He felt awful because both his head and his side throbbed with pain. One because of a bullet, the other because of the whiskey, and he couldn’t decide which one was troubling him the most.
Longarm had an important decision to make and it had to be made quickly. During the early morning hours, Randy had drunkenly confessed that his father’s gang had robbed the Union Pacific up on Donner Pass and gotten away with nearly ten thousand dollars. And while Randy had not participated in that daring train robbery, he had been told by Clyde that he would be expected to ride with the Killion gang on their upcoming raid against the Bank of Reno located on South Virginia Street. Longarm knew the bank well, for it was Reno’s biggest and he had cashed many a government travel check there. Randy had not been privy to any of the details of the upcoming robbery, not even the exact day it would occur. But Longarm had no doubt that it would occur, and that it would be successful unless he did something to thwart the Killion gang.
Even more troubling for the kid had been Senora Lupe Sanchez’s sudden and mysterious departure from Helldorado. She had simply vanished without a goodbye or an explanation to Randy.
“I don’t know if she just ran away to escape my father or … or what,” Randy had sadly confessed.
Longarm had not had the heart to tell the kid that, in his opinion, Matthew Killion had probably ordered that Lupe Sanchez be killed and her body disposed of someplace where it would never be found.
“Maybe,” Longarm had told the anguished and drunken young man, “if you can figure out some way to get us out of Helldorado for a few days, we can find the senora.”
“How?”
Longarm, frankly, wasn’t sure, but he thought it was worth a try. It was obvious that Killion’s former mistress had become like a mother to Randy. If she were found alive, Longarm felt sure that she would be able to talk Randy into betraying his father and his brother. She was, Longarm believed, the only one who had enough influence on Randy to save him from eventually making mistakes that would bring him to the gallows or at least earn him a long prison sentence.
“Randy,” Longarm now said, making the decision that they had to get out of Helldorado for a day or two and attempt to find Lupe Sanchez. “Wake up, it’s time to ride.”
Randy wasn’t easy to awaken, and when he finally managed to open his eyes, they were bloodshot.
Longarm shook the kid even harder. “We’ve got to go look for Senora Sanchez.”
Randy moaned. “I’m afraid that she’s … she’s long dead, Custis.”
“Well, we don’t know that for certain, do we? And until we find out for sure, we have to at least try to find her. Now come on and let’s get our horses and get out of here before anyone else awakens.”
Randy sat up. His face was pale and puffy. It looked like the belly of a dead carp. Longarm dragged the kid to his feet. “You need to write a note to your father explaining that we got drunk and decided to ride up to the Comstock Lode and continue our celebration.”
“Pa will kill us.”
“No, he won’t,” Longarm said, dragging the kid to a table where a pencil and pad of paper were waiting. “Now write him a note saying we’ll be back in a couple of days.”
“All right,” Randy said, “but he’s going to be madder than hell that I didn’t get permission first.”
“Life is full of disappointments,” Longarm snapped.
“Where are we really going?”
“I don’t know,” Longarm admitted. “That will depend on where you think Senora Sanchez would go to hide.”
“And if she’s dead?”
“Then you’re going to have to help me bring her killers to justice.”
Randy’s jaw dropped. “You’re a lawman! Jezus! I could have you drawn and quartered! If my father or brother-“
Longarm reached out and grabbed Randy by the front of his shirt and shook him until his teeth rattled. “Listen, damn you!” he swore. “We’re going to find out if your father had Senora Sanchez murdered.”
Longarm pushed Randy back on his heels. “Kid, I’m going to nail your father and this whole danm rotten bunch because they’re a pack of thieves and murderers. And frankly, if you try to stop me, a lot of blood is going to flow, yours, mine, and for damn sure your father and brother’s.”
Randy was sober now and shaking his head. “Custis, I just can’t betray my father and brother.”
Longarm resisted the urge to grab the kid and shake some sense into him. Instead, he knelt at Randy’s side, ignored the pain in his ribs, and said, “What if your father callously ordered Senora Sanchez’s death? Are you just going to forgive him? Allow him to murder and steal and say it’s all right because you are the same blood?”
Longarm paused for a moment and then he continued. “And what about Clyde? He’s a bully and a killer. Did you know that a trainman up on Donner Pass was pistol-whipped so viciously that he might even die? That he can’t ever work again to support his family and that his life is forever ruined?”
A sob escaped Randy’s throat. He turned away from Longarm and staggered over to sit back down on his bed. Longarm wanted to ease up on Randy, but he knew that was the wrong thing to do. He had the kid frightened, confused, and uncertain. In time, Longarm was certain that Randy would do the right thing, especially if he found out that Lupe Sanchez had come to a tragic end because she had known too much about Matthew Killion.
“Let’s go,” Longarm demanded impatiently. “We’re running out of time.”
“I’m not going,” Randy said, staring down between his feet.
Longarm grabbed Randy and hauled him erect. “You either go now, or I’m going to march over to arrest your father and let the chips fall where they may.”