Chapter 10
They rode into Ciénega del Norte the next morning with the sun still low and the shadows long on the road.
It was a larger town than San Vicente, two proper streets crossing at a central square with a well and a few shade trees.
Adobe buildings on all four sides, a general store, a cantina, a building that served as the municipal office, and on the east side of the square the jail.
It was a solid structure, thick walls, small windows set high and barred, a heavy wood door at the front with a Rurale standing outside it in a grey uniform and a bored expression.
Will and Isum rode in, badges in their pockets.
Isum peeled off and rode to the far side of the square under a big mesquite tree and tied his horse off before sitting down on a bench with his rifle across his knees.
Will dismounted at the front of the jail and approached the guard.
He spoke in Spanish, clear and unhurried, trying hard not to seem threatening.
"I am called Asa Smith, and I believe an American citizen named Del Cole is being held in your jail. I am here to ask if I could see him and speak with him."
The guard looked at Will's face. He was young, no more than twenty, and not sure what to do. He told Will to wait and went inside.
Five minutes passed. Ten. Will stood in the sun and waited patiently.
The man who came out was not a guard. He was lean and angular, about forty, with a neat, dark coat and the watchful eyes of someone who has been careful his whole life and intends to keep on being careful.
He looked Will over with the particular attention of a man who is assessing a threat and deciding how much of one it is.
"I am Capitán Fuentes," he said, in good English. "This is my jail."
"I'm Asa Smith and I'm told you're holding a friend of mine named Del Cole in your jail."
"That is true," Fuentes said. "Del Cole is a prisoner of the state of Chihuahua, charged with horse theft."
"May I ask who is accusing him?"
"Don Rodrigo Vega, a man of unquestioned integrity."
And a liar when it suits him, Will thought. He said, "I'm interested in Mister Cole's case and wanted to speak with him."
Fuentes looked at him for a moment. "He is being held in accordance with Mexican law, and nobody can speak with him at this time."
Will held Fuentes' gaze. Fuentes held his back. It was a practiced stillness on both sides, the kind that comes from long experience of situations where the first man to show uncertainty loses something.
"Is there a time when I can see him?" Will asked.
"There are no visiting hours for prisoners," Fuentes said.
"So he's being held incommunicado?"
"I guess that's how he's being held."
"Has he been able to speak with his lawyer?"
"He has no lawyer," Fuentes said.
"If I hire a lawyer, will the lawyer be able to see his client?"
"No, that is not possible."
"How then does he defend against the charges?"
Fuentes shrugged. "The lawyer can talk to him at the trial."
"Can you tell me anything about him?" Will asked. "Is he in good health?"
Fuentes looked to his right before saying, "The prisoner is well. You have my word as an officer of the Rurales."
"I appreciate that, and thank you for speaking with me," Will said. He put on his hat, walked back to his horse, mounted, and rode to where Isum was waiting in the shade.
"Well," Isum said.
"He's in there."
"You see him?"
"No. But I think I heard him." Will had heard it as he stood at the door, just before Fuentes came out. A cough from somewhere inside, hoarse and deep, the kind a man develops after weeks in a jail with no circulation. "He's alive. He sounds rough."
"Could be somebody else coughing, another prisoner," Isum said.
"We'll soon find out," Will said.
"Why? Whachu gon' do?"
"If you look at the side of that jail, there are barred windows on each side, high up. I'm betting Del is in the last one."
"Yeah, but which side?"
"East side I'm guessing," Will said.
"Why?"
"Because Fuentes turned that way when I asked about Del's health."
"If you're right, you can stand on your horse and talk to him."
"Just what I was thinkin'."
"Your show," Isum said.
He watched as Will rode his mare next to the jail. Then Will stood in the saddle and leaned against the jail wall. He whispered loudly, "Del."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here," Del said in a hoarse whisper.
"Are you okay?"
"Hell no, I'm not okay. When you gettin' me out?"
"A few days," Will said. Will heard some clanging and a door creaking open. He dropped back onto his saddle and quietly rode over to where Isum was standing.
"He there?" Isum asked.
"Yeah, and now he knows we're here. May lift his spirits a little, but he'll never admit it." They both laughed.
"So we gon' do sump'm sneaky, huh?"
"We're gonna do whatever is required, sneaky and underhanded if we have to," Will said, "and no bunch of Rurales are gonna stop us even if we have to kill some of 'em and create a big stink down here.
After all, I'm Asa Smith and you're Isaac Jones, and we're nobody but a coupla rogue Texas cowhands. "
Isum laughed, "Fuentes?"
"He's a functionary who wants to maintain his position. He does what Vega needs because he knows Vega has the power to remove him. He's an obstacle to work around, but I'll say it again, Del and his family are going back with us. Fuentes has no idea how dangerous two determined Texans can be."
Isum looked across the square at the jail. The guard had gone back inside. The square was quiet, a woman crossing with a basket, two old men at a table in front of the cantina drinking something and watching the strangers.
"They're watching us," Isum said.
"Let 'em watch. We're not hiding anything." Will picked up his reins. "We'll ride back to Morales and try to figure out a way to get Del out."