Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
About a mile south of Elkhorn, the road that led past Marlowe’s ranch became little more than a muddy track, winding through the groves of pine, spruce, and cottonwood.
The high peaks were receding behind them, but the forested ridges running north and south on either side were increasing in height the farther Judge Patterson and his men rode.
By the time they’d worked their way to the river—lined with sage and aspen copses—he knew they’d soon be riding into the valley where the ranch was located.
He’d never been there. And he’d never thought an occasion like this would be the reason.
The afternoon sun was dropping, and through occasional breaks in the trees, he caught glimpses of rolling grass-covered hills, dotted with sage and evergreen.
He had to give it to Marlowe. He’d been smart to buy this land for ranching. With the town growing as it was, the close proximity was an advantage and the market for local beef would only grow stronger.
The judge thought about other land in the region he could put to use for the same purpose.
Hell, maybe he could squeeze Marlowe a little and take this property.
He had no interest in living way out here; his own house in Elkhorn suited him just fine, but he could pay some fools to run the ranch for him and make a good profit.
All of these thoughts were paltry in the scope of his larger plans, especially now. His problems were finally handled, taken care of. Now, Patterson could set his sights far beyond the provincial boundaries of Elkhorn. Denver and Washington, D.C. lay ahead for him. Maybe even the White House.
The thought was still with him when an eagle sailed by him from behind, not twenty feet overhead. The judge held his breath as the golden bird swooped, carving a serpentine path between evergreen branches before rising out of sight between the trees.
That was something he hadn’t seen much of lately. It seemed he spent more time in his office than he did anywhere else. And when he did leave the place, he had the henchmen of that damned Eric Goulden shooting at him. No more.
Seeing that beautiful bird was surely an omen of good things to come.
The judge breathed in the smells of the trees and the ground and the fine steed he was riding. Today was well worth the ride out here. Having two of his armed men ahead and two more behind, he had more protection than he needed. But a man in his position had to be always cautious.
He turned to Frissy Fredericks, surly and silent as a mountain at his side. “Tell me again what Elijah Starr wants. Tell it to me exactly as you heard it.”
Frissy turned his black buttons for eyes toward him. “He wants all charges against him dropped. He wants to walk free.”
“And what is it exactly that he says he’ll give me in return?”
“His boss. Eric Goulden.”
For that, he’d make Starr the emperor of Xanadu.
“How easily men sell their souls,” he said under his breath.
“He can’t do any selling if Goulden’s men get to him first,” Frissy responded.
“We’re almost there. Aren’t we?”
“Not far.”
Patterson understood that not every item of business could be handled in his office. Still, this arrangement was peculiar.
“What has he got specifically that I can use against Goulden?”
Frissy’s massive shoulders lifted and dropped. “I don’t know nothing about no specifics, Judge. I’m only telling you what Zeke told me.”
It was little more than an hour ago that he’d learned of this. His buffoon of a bodyguard hadn’t thought it important enough to interrupt a far less important meeting.
“I still cannot believe you didn’t come into my office to let me know. It would have been far better if I’d spoken to the sheriff myself.”
Frissy spit a stream of tobacco juice out the opposite side of the trail, and then turned his attention back to the judge.
“I know. I woulda let you know. But you was in that meeting with the ladies of the reception committee for the solar eclipse celebration. You told me I was not to interrupt you, even if the town caught fire.”
The judge had said exactly those words to impress the ladies. But he still didn’t like the arrangement Zeke and Marlowe had come up with.
Why take Starr to the ranch? Why not put him in the Elkhorn jail? Or somewhere else? They could have put him in a hotel room in town with handful of deputies to watch for anyone coming to kill him.
He had faith in those two men, though. Particularly Marlowe. So he had to trust that this plan that they came up with had to be based on sound reasoning.
He turned to Frissy. “And the sheriff came back out here?”
“That’s what he told me he was doing. ‘You bring the judge to Marlowe’s ranch. We’ll be waiting,’ was his exact words.”
The judge took a handkerchief from his coat pocket, removed his bowler, and wiped the sweat on his brow. It was getting warmer these days.
“Start again. From the beginning.”
“Judge, we’re almost there. That sumbitch’s ranch is right along that bend. In ten minutes, you won’t need me to remember nothing. That murdering bastard Starr can tell you himself.”
“I know we’re almost there. But I want you to go through everything from the beginning.”
“But, Judge—”
“Start. From. The. Beginning.” He drawled every word. Sometimes, that was the only way this hulking meat head could understand directions.
Frissy spat again and then let a deep breath slowly escape his barrel-like chest.
“Marlowe arrested Starr in Bonedale. They was coming back to Elkhorn. But they got wind of Starr’s railroad men biting at their heels.
So instead of going straight into town, he took to the forest and lost them.
Then they go to his ranch. Then Zeke meets them there.
Starr tells them he wants a deal. He gives up his boss if you let him go free. So then Zeke—”
“Wait. Hold on.” Patterson reined in his horse, and their entire group halted like a line of cavalry. He turned to Frissy. “How did the sheriff know that Marlowe had returned?”
Frissy shrugged and shook his head.
“Why is Starr suddenly so ready to make a deal?”
Again, the stupid shrug.
“Marlowe and Zeke could have stashed that arrogant bastard anywhere and then come in and talked to me themselves.”
Frissy was looking at him blankly, but his piggish face looked paler than ever.
Invisible fingers twisted Patterson’s gut. Something wasn’t right. All of a sudden, everything was too quiet. “Why the push to get me out of Elkhorn?”
A shot rang out, causing Patterson to duck his head and clutch at the neck of his mount. But the bullet wasn’t directed at him, and one of his forward guards went down.
“Ambush,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone.
More shots cracked, and the air was filled with smoke and blood. The other man in front barely had time to draw his weapon before he was cut down. The two horses bolted in panic, and in a moment only the judge, Frissy, and the two bodyguards riding in the rear were left on the trail.
Patterson yanked at his reins, trying to get out of there. But before he could go anywhere, Frissy reached out and grabbed the bridle, stopping him.
“What the hell are you doing!” the judge yelled at him. “Let’s go!”
The truth dawned on him as the ox hung on tight and said nothing. Realization of the betrayal came quick and cut as sharp as a knife blade. The two men behind him had made no attempt to draw.
Patterson reached for the short-barreled Colt holstered under his arm, but Frissy grabbed his wrist and shook the pistol loose.
Five riders emerged from the trees with smoking pistols in their hands, surrounding him.
Patterson turned to Frissy. “Where’s Marlowe?”
“Bonedale.”
“Zeke?”
“On his way to Denver on that errand you sent him on.”
“I sent him on no errand.”
Elijah Starr rode up to them, and the hulking bodyguard turned to the one-eyed son of a bitch.
Patterson looked from one man to the other and read the silent communication that passed between them.
It was all perfectly clear. He’d been betrayed and double-crossed. He didn’t know how long it had been going on, but Frissy was now working for Elijah Starr.