“Smoky. Ben. Go inside and bring out Hangar and Opat,” Tapan commanded. His half smile was confident and cruel. When this was all over, Lady Holt might make him her number-one man, instead of Jaudon. Or her husband. He smiled and muttered, “Lord of Texas has a nice ring to it.”
No one appeared on the street. It was as if the entire town had become an oil painting. The bravado built from the hearings had evaporated like a wisp of smoke. Smoky and Ben reappeared a few minutes later with a smiling Hangar and a tentative Opat. Both gunmen quickly remounted.
“Thanks, boys. We were in a bad fix!” Hangar yelled. “That damn John Checker—and Rule Cordell—sneaked up on us. The bastards! Meade lied about killin’ the Ranger!”
Tapan glanced at Jaudon and Lady Holt, then back to the two released men. “You two failed. Lady Holt doesn’t like failure.”
“Hey, wait a minute!” Hangar held out his hands.
Opat shook his head and bowed it.
A stream of rifle shots tore through Caisson. Both Hangar and Opat crumpled to the ground.
“Smoky, get the undertaker,” Tapan yelled, examining the aftermath of their firing. “Tell him the state of Texas is paying. For the boxes an’ the diggin’. I want those bodies out of here. Quick.”
He liked the feeling that came with leadership. Would Jaudon be a problem now that he had returned with his captaincy? He knew there was no romantic interest between the Frenchman and the English duchess. Maybe Jaudon’s responsibilities as Ranger captain would take him away.
“Drinks are on the boss at No. 8,” Tapan yelled. “Cause trouble in town and you’re fired. Same if you’re too drunk to ride when we leave.”
Grunts of approval and statements of agreement followed as the Holt gunmen wheeled and galloped toward the saloon. They vanished inside in seconds. Tapan looked around and saw Jaudon and Lady Holt standing in the middle of the street. He swung his mount toward her and took a position at her right, holding the flag of the phoenix upright. Jaudon looked at him and Tapan produced one of his best smiles.
The fat Frenchman actually giggled as he began a loud pronouncement to the quaking town. His horse snorted and shook its head. Jaudon yanked hard on the reins.
“Ze citizens of Caisson, hear me,” he yelled. “Ze governor has given me, as ze Ranger captain, ze complete authority to bring law and order to ze region. He is very concerned about ze outlaws attempting to take control of zee town. Bien entendu…” Jaudon caught his lapse and continued. “Ah, certainly, ze governor has ze need to be so concerned. But I—and mon fellow Rangers here with me—will change theez bad thing.”
He stared in both directions of the quiet main street. A boy on a bicycle went by, not paying any attention. He didn’t notice the black man watching from the alley. The speech was exactly as Lady Holt had written. He had promised to leave out any French words or she would have Tapan deliver it.
Loudly, he began again, explaining Hangar and Opat had been executed because they were found to be working with the outlaws. The mayor and town council would be disbanded until order was reestablished. Tanner would remain the municipal judge and Tapan Moore would be the acting sheriff until an election could be held.
Tapan held up the sheriff’s badge and put it on, just under the Ranger badge on his leather vest.
Warrants would be issued for John Checker, Emmett and Rikor Gardner, Morgan Peale, London Fiss, Charlie Carlson and Rule Cordell. Rewards would be established for each, dead or alive. He finished his proclamation with the statement that it would be printed up and placed on display throughout the area.
Hearing his declaration, Margaret Loren rushed from her dry goods store and hurried toward them. Her face red with anger, she screamed at him. “This is insane! That Holt woman is trying to ruin our town! Our town!” She looked both ways. “Come out! Come out! We don’t have to take this nonsense. Come on!”
Jaudon moved his hands toward his holstered revolvers, laughed and told Tapan to take care of the matter. He spun his horse and headed toward the newspaper office, where Lady Holt was already waiting.
Margaret followed him, screaming for others to come and help her.
Holding the flag in its saddle boot, Tapan swung his horse toward her, kicked it into a gallop and rammed the running animal into the woman before she had a chance to get out of the way. The horse’s shoulder hit the side of her face as she stumbled and fell.
He rode past her without looking back.
She lay in the street. Unmoving. From the alley across the street, the black man came running.
Jaudon shook his head, stepped inside the newspaper office and slammed the door behind him.
Chapter Thirty-two
The lone window rattled with the force of Jaudon’s entry. Lady Holt was already inside, delivering a combined offer and threat to the young publisher.
Henry Seitmeyer stood behind his desk with his arms crossed; his shirt was blotched with black. Neither it nor his bow tie had been changed since the hearings. His expression was easy to read: he didn’t like either Lady Holt’s words or the deliverer of them.
A large, metal printing press stood silently behind him, its job finished for the moment. Seitmeyer had had it shipped from Finsbury, London; it was “an improved Coumbia press.” The small office was cluttered with paste pots, type trays, ink bottles, stacks of paper, a dozen books, two coats, a stack of printed posters and a large ashtray holding a cold pipe. A sack of loose tobacco rested against the tray.
Piles of the latest edition of the Caisson Reporter lay on his desk piled with other exchanges, research papers and ad layouts. The front page headline read COURT DECLARES GARDNER, CHECKER INNOCENT. The subhead was RANGER KILLED IN RELATED INCIDENT.
“You should be ashamed of printing such garbage.” Lady Holt pointed at the newspapers. “Did the outlaws make you do this?”
“Ma’am, freedom of the press is guaranteed. By the Constitution,” Seitmeyer said. “I will publish what I want, when I want.”
“How much for this silly place?” Lady Holt asked, waving her arms.
“The newspaper is not for sale, ma’am. Neither am I.”
She glared at him, but her intensity was more than matched by his own. “I don’t think you understand, Mr. Seitmeyer. Progress is coming to Caisson. I am bringing it. Soon this land will be completely under my authority. Behind that will come the railroad and barbed wire. Riches will follow.” She cocked her head. “Some will have the wisdom to see what I bring—and some will not.”
“What happens to that second group?” Seitmeyer growled.
“Oh, nothing, I suppose. Although most likely, they will decide other places are more comfortable.” She reached out and touched the top newspaper with her forefinger, leaving it there.
“You mean like Gardner, Peale and Carlson?”
“No. Those people are guilty of breaking the law. They will be tracked down and punished.” Lady Holt’s mouth curled into a long sneer that made her look more like a sinister man than a woman.
“The court just conducted a hearing on the charges against Emmett Gardner and found him innocent of rustling. The same for the big Ranger, John Checker—and his murdered partner.”
Jaudon walked over to the printing press and studied it. “That was ze illegal court. And John Checker is no longer ze Ranger. He is ze murderer.”
Seitmeyer licked his lower lip. “Jaudon, he’s a lot more of a Ranger than you’ll ever be. So is A. J. Bartlett, who was murdered by your men, Mrs. Holt.” His jaw tightened; a glimmer of fear flickered in his eyes, but he had no intention of backing down. “You can’t try a man for the same thing twice. That’s double jeopardy. That, too, is against the law.”