Chapter 57
Cutter and Lola linked up with Officer Minor of the Skagway Police Department as soon as they landed, providing him with Leo Bouchard’s photograph. Minor was the only officer on duty that morning until his partner got back from the dentist in Haines, a twenty-minute air taxi ride away.
Minor needed to drop something by the Red Onion, where his wife played the role of one of the soiled doves and gave quickie tours through the historic brothel upstairs.
“We can do this the easy way,” he said. “We can do this the hard way, or we can do it the Skag-way …”
Cutter and Lola looked at each other, not quite knowing what to make of Minor’s joke.
“The Red Onion opens at ten,” Minor said. “I suggest we grab an early bite before Joellen’s train gets back into town at noon.”
“Interesting decor,” Lola said when they stepped through the saloon doors. “Who’d a thought you could line a wall with heaps of bedpans and call it decoration …” She shrugged. “I reckon it works in its own way.”
Normally packed to the gills with cruisers, the Red Onion was all but empty at this early hour.
Deep red with forest-green trim, the saloon itself was a long, relatively narrow affair with a couple of tables by the window facing Broadway and two rows of staggered tables running the length of the establishment.
In addition to the dozens of assorted bedpans, the walls were decorated with a couple of whaling harpoons and dozens of photos of Skagway during its Klondike Gold Rush heyday.
A tired set of wood stairs behind the cashier and T-shirt counter led up to what had once been the rooms for the working girls.
According to Skagway history, the Red Onion was one of the higher-end establishments—certainly better than the ramshackle cribs crowded in the back alleys of town where the girls would go when they lost their looks and fancy charms.
Cutter chose an empty table along the way, near the door to Broadway.
Lola had just ordered a big plate of Naughty Nelly Nachos when Minor got a call from his dispatcher about a naked woman running around out by some baseball fields on the outskirts of town.
“Sounds like she chose the Skag-way.” Lola chuckled, offering to go with Minor because he was by himself. He shrugged it off, promising to keep an eye out for Leo Bouchard.
Lola took a moment to text her boyfriend. Cutter called the chief. Mim tended to have a morning nap after she got the boys up and going for the day and he didn’t want to wake her up.
No sooner had the line connected than a tall man with thinning gray hair strode across the saloon floor and pulled up a chair beside their table.
Cutter wasn’t a man easily caught on his back foot. Lola noticed something was happening and pushed away from the table. A broad smile spread across Cutter’s face, and he shot to his feet, thrusting out his hand.
“Lafayette Johnson!” he said. “I’d know that Sam Elliott mustache anywhere!”
The older man pulled him in for a brotherhood embrasso, slapping him on the back. “Been a long time, Son,” he said. “Your granddaddy’s funeral.”
Cutter held out his hand toward Lola. “Lafeyette Johnson, meet my partner, Deputy US Marshal Lola Teariki. Teariki, meet the sheriff of Parker County, Texas, Lafayette Johnson.”
“Deputy,” Johnson said, extending his hand. “Pleased to meet you. My friends call me LJ. Grumpy made the boys call me Mr. Johnson so long, I guess he just can’t bring himself to do it.”
“Sheriff Johnson is one of my grandfather’s oldest friends.”
“Ha,” Johnson said. “His oldest surviving friend. And that’s because I was one of his youngest friends. Fact is, he raised me from a pup. I was only about twenty-two when this runt was born.”
Lola grinned.
“That’s right,” Johnson said. “That makes me closer to seventy than sixty.” He gave her a nod. “But I’m still spry enough to kick the shit outta a bad guy if he needs kickin’. Once, anyway.” He nodded to Lola again. “Sorry for the language.”
“No worries,” she said. “So you knew the boss when he was a boy?”
“Sure did,” Johnson said.
“Sweet as!” she said. “I am ready to hear some stories.”
“And I’m ready to tell them,” Johnson said.
He smoothed his silver mustache with a thumb and forefinger, something Cutter had seen the man do a hundred times over the years when he’d visit Grumpy in Florida.
“But first, I need to make it clear why I’m here.
Did your granddaddy ever tell you about a man named Ricky Lee Pink? ”
“That teenage kid in Texas?” Cutter said.
“He did, but not until I was older and on the job myself.” He turned to Lola.
“Murdered a bunch of people during and after a botched armed robbery of five million in diamonds—fifteen in today’s money.
His partner in crime was executed. Tried as an adult.
Got something like six consecutive life sentences.
” He looked at Johnson. The man brought back so many memories of his grandfather.
It was hard not to smile—and that was saying something for Arliss Cutter.
“What about him? He won’t be breathing free air anytime soon. ”
“He’s breathing free air now,” Johnson said. “Right here.”
“In Alaska?”
“In Skagway,” Johnson said. “I’ve been following him since the Texas Department of Corrections decided a murdering piece of shit should have a second chance.
He’s running with a lady from Canton, Texas, named Shayna Hanford.
According to TDC records, he’s the latest in her string of five prison pen pals.
They hooked up pretty much as soon as the gates opened and puked the bastard out.
They ended up boarding this ship in Ketchikan, same place I did.
I was so focused on Pink, I missed the fact that you were on the ship as well. ”
“It’s a big ship,” Lola offered.
“That’s a reason,” Johnson said. “Not a good excuse. You know, I could have had that son of a bitch in chains ten times over for possession of a firearm since he got out, but I know he’s after the diamonds. I’d sorely like to find them and get them back to their rightful owners.”
“Surely the insurance paid up?” Lola said.
“They did.” Johnson shot a sheepish glance at Cutter. “The thing is, more than a few people believed your granddad took them.”
“Diamonds?” Cutter felt like he’d been punched in the gut. “Grumpy wouldn’t take a free cup of coffee.”
“I know that,” Johnson said. “And so did most of the folks at the Sheriff’s Department, but the timing of him leaving for Florida soured a couple of the county commissioners.
Not that they could ever do anything to hurt him, but they trashed Wayne’s good name for years.
I hear whispers even now. If I accomplish anything while I’m still the elected sheriff of Parker County, I’d like to put those notions to rest. And to do that, I need the diamonds—”
A blond woman approached the table from behind Johnson. Except for the massive bruise and dried blood on her cheek, she looked vaguely familiar to Cutter. He’d probably seen her on the ship.
Johnson followed Cutter’s gaze to the newcomer, standing immediately when he saw her. He wasn’t just being polite.
“Ms. Hanford!” Johnson said, more to alert the others who she was than as a polite greeting.
“Sit!” Hanford said, lisping. Her front teeth were a craggy mess. “I said sit!” It was an order, made clear by the maw of the suppressed Glock she had under the raincoat draped over her arm.
Cutter froze, his hand inching instinctively for the Colt Python on his belt.
“Best not!” she said. “Now sit your asses down. I’m not going to tell you again.”
“You got some balls doing this in a crowded bar,” Lola said.
“Shut it, Moana!” the woman snapped. “I am in a mood.”
They sat.
“Now,” the woman said, locked in on Cutter. “You seem like the kind of man who likes to save others. You know, ex-wives, partners, that kind of thing. I’ll warn you now. You do what I say or the first bullet’s going into Moana’s belly.”
Cutter raised his hands. “Okay,” he said. “How can I help you?”
“What’s this you were saying about diamonds?”
Cutter stared at her hard. “What?”
“You heard me,” she said. “Tell me where they are and I may be able to get you out from under the two tons of shit that are about to fall on top of you.”
Both hands up, palms facing the woman, Cutter gave an honest grimace. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t know anything about the diamonds.”
“Horseshit!” Hanford said. “I was standing there long enough to hear that you know Ricky Lee’s in town, and that he’s looking for the diamonds.”
“You’re the one talking horseshit,” Johnson said. “Ricky Lee Pink isn’t looking for the diamonds. He knows exactly where the diamonds are. He took them.”
Hanford’s face pinched into a pained look. “Who are you?”
“I’m the one who arrested the Man Cub,” Johnson said. “Years ago. Me and this man’s granddaddy.”
“Ah,” she said, nodding as if it were all so clear now. “You’re the one who took the diamonds.”
“Think about what you’re saying,” Johnson said. “Why would I be following Pink’s wrinkled ass all over hell if I had the diamonds?”
She brandished the gun at Cutter, still half hidden under her coat. Lola started to make a move, but Cutter gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
“That leaves you,” Hanford said, eyeing Cutter hard.
“I haven’t heard a word about those diamonds for twenty years, since Grump … since my grandfather told me about Ricky Pink.”
“Your grandpa hid them somewhere,” she said, lip quivering. Desperate. “He—”
“You never met my grandfather,” Cutter said. “He raised me, and believe me, we were poor. Honest to a fault but poor.”
“Damn you all!” Hanford said, more to herself than anyone else. “Damn every last one of you.”
“So where is Ricky Lee?” Johnson pushed away to stand again. “I’d like to talk to the man who sends his girlfriend to do the heavy lifting.”
“I told you to sit down!” She heaved a deep breath, then looked at Cutter. “Ricky’s waiting for you in the street.”
“Waiting?” Lola said. “On what …”
“Waiting to kill you.”
“I don’t much like the sound of that,” Cutter mused.
“Well, that’s too bad. He told me to tell you he’s gonna start shooting random people on the street if you’re not out there in five minutes … and that was about five minutes ago.”
“Can I stand?”
“Slow,” she said. “But the old guy and the island girl stay with me.”
Cutter rose, hands away from his sides. “So I’m clear, is he planning to shoot me when I walk out the door, or are we talking Old West gun battle in the middle of Broadway?”
“He’ll be standing across the street up from that curio shop,” she said. “You can’t miss him.”
Cutter nearly laughed out loud at that.
He didn’t intend to miss.