River 0f Death: Cassandra Wilde Adult Western (Half Breed Haven Book 13) Page 2
Emotionally, however, she worried for the woman at her side. Though she felt guilty about it, she had encouraged her brother, Dutch, to begin distancing himself from Lijuan. The pair had a special bond thanks in part to Cassandra’s rejection of her when they were children, and the little girl had gravitated to her older half-brother. But of late Lijuan’s unhealthy attachment to Dutch was threatening his future with the woman he loved, and Cassandra had insisted for everyone’s good to put distance between them. He had, and ever since, Cassandra had kept a watchful eye out over her knowing it had to hurt Lijuan losing that special closeness. What was unknown to Cassandra, however, was that Lijuan had overheard Cassandra’s pleas to Dutch, so at least she had been able to prepare herself for Dutch’s gradual retreat from their bond.
As they readied for the trip, Cassandra had been pleased to find Lijuan in good spirits, and they had enjoyed each other’s company on the ride. It almost went without saying that the trip would have been even more fun if the others had been along, but Catalina was away on a cattle drive and Honor Elizabeth, a self-proclaimed daddy’s girl, had accompanied their father, a circuit judge, on his travels to hear cases in his assigned jurisdiction.
Suddenly, she found Lijuan’s hand on her shoulder, and it was yanking her back just split seconds before a door flew open that Cassandra would have easily collided with but not for Lijuan stopping her. A clean-cut man appeared and looked startled as he saw the near miss as the door swung closed behind him. Slapping his hat on his head, his two very close together eyes pinched as he mumbled an apology and stepped out onto the main street swerving around a young Indian boy riding a pony.
“Thanks!” Cassandra said, unaware that her voice had a very distracted quality to it as she gazed after the man.
“You’re welcome. I just happened to look through the window to this barber shop at the right moment and saw him heading toward the door,” Lijuan said, nodding toward the large plate glass window that had given her the view into the shop at just the opportune time. “If you ask me, whoever built this place had their head up their ass when they made the door open right into the path of people traipsing up and down this here boardwalk!”
As Cassandra watched the man from their near-miss stride into the local freight hauling office, she became aware that Lijuan hadn’t picked up on the fact that she wasn’t listening to her as suddenly her sister, the hellcat, laid a hand on her once again and this time spun her around.
“What is it?”
“Back to the horses. Now!” Cassandra ordered as she began to hustle in the opposite direction of the fencing company toward the livery where they had checked in Lily and Kong just after arriving in Parish. Lijuan said nothing but trailed after her as Cassandra kept looking back over her shoulder towards the shipping depot.
The stable hand at the livery seemed surprised to see them return so quickly and asked if they were leaving already. As Cassandra hurried to her saddlebag, she heard Lijuan quip, “You got me, friend.” A moment later, she was at her side as Cassandra dug through her bag.
“What are we doing back here?”
“I just need to check my posters, Lijuan.”
Behind her, Lijuan rolled her eyes. "We're not going to the fencing supplier today, are we?"
Though she was hurrying, Cassandra paused long enough to flash her a smile, half-moon dimples forming on her face as she said, “Now don’t go putting the cart before the horse. I just need to see something with my own eyes … and here it is!” Her hand pulled out a sheaf of wanted posters, and she began to leaf through them. Whenever she traveled, she never left without these in her saddlebag. A lawman to her core, Cassandra was always on the lookout for any of the bad men of the West. Once in a blue moon, she might spot someone from the dodgers, and as a feeling of triumph washed over her, she knew if it were night, then there would be a blue moon.
“I knew it!” she cried out and thrust one of the wanted posters in Lijuan’s face. Staring at it, Lijuan kicked a clump of hay on the livery floor. “Now I know we are definitely not going to the Cattleman’s Post and Rail Company.”
“Come on! We’ve got to get back and hope the man hasn’t left the freight office yet. We can’t lose him!”
They quickly threw on their saddles and rode past the confused stable boy to whom Cassandra flipped a gold coin. As they turned out onto the street, Lijuan demanded to know who the wanted man on the poster was that Cassandra had shoved into the back pocket of her jeans.
"He's Royce Coltrane! Part of the crew that knocked over the San Francisco Mint a few months ago!" In her excitement, she had no idea she was speed talking so fast that Lijuan had a hard time understanding her. As they raced up the main street dodging people and other horses, Lijuan asked her to repeat the man's identity. The second time she understood her, and Lijuan let out a whistle of her own. The brazen robbery had made news even back in Alamieda, Arizona.
Soon they were slowing to a stop outside of a feed store whose nearest neighbor was the freight office. Barely able to contain herself, Cassandra said in a low voice as they tied up their horses to the hitching post, “Half the lawmen in California with an equal number of bounty hunters have been scouring the state looking for the Coltrane gang and the loot, and here is the leader right in front of us in Arizona.” She held out the wanted poster. “He may have lost the beard and mustache, but that’s him all right. I need to make sure he’s still in there.”
Lijuan waited behind as Cassandra casually strolled past the building and looked in the window as she did so. The man appeared to be waiting as the clerk behind a counter shuffled through a stack of papers. Coltrane had his back to her, but she was confident that it was him. Quickly, she hustled back to Lijuan.
“We’re in luck. He’s still there. Now I need to wait here and make sure that he doesn’t leave, but I need you to do something for me. Head on over to the barbershop and see if you can find out anything you can about him.”
“Me! You’re the detective, golden girl!”
Cassandra laughed. “Quit downplaying your abilities. I know for a fact what you can do. Now go on. I need to keep both eyes on him.”
Lijuan stalked away in mock anger mumbling she just wanted to get a good price on some fencing. Cassandra smiled after her but then felt her elation dim somewhat and felt a pang of guilt. They'd come a long way when they could have purchased fencing much closer to home, but the company operating out of Parish had a reputation of having the finest fencing in the territory. Now she realized she had just hijacked their entire trip, turning it into yet another of her many pursuits of justice. Sighing, she surrendered to the fact that she really couldn’t help herself when it came to law and order, and she would make it up to Lijuan.
By the time Lijuan pulled open the door and stepped into the barber shop, she already knew what she was going to do. Affecting a clipped accent, she had used on several occasions; she prepared to address the barber who had a man in his chair and another one waiting. The three men looked at her warily, though the man in the chair with his whiskers all lathered up also had a clear look of interest in his eyes. He further telegraphed that interest by the way he shifted his position in the chair to get a better look at her, nearly nicking himself on the straight razor the barber held in his hand. A pair of big tits and a tapered waist will always get you that look yellow skin or not, she thought dryly.
“Help ya, Chinawoman?” the barber asked cautiously.
“Yeah, me look for job. Maybe sweep hair? Need way to make money. Come from China with husband. He work railroad but die in tunnel blast.”
His expressionless face did little to prove his next words, “Sorry to hear that, ma’am. Don’t have any work for you, though.”
“Oh. Sorry bother you. What about man that just leave here? You know if he hire? I ask anybody. I see him go across the street. I go find him.”
The man sitting waiting for his turn for a haircut snapped his suspenders and waved at her. “Don’t go wasting your t
ime with that fellow. He’s not going to have any work for you. He’s just visiting, staying with his uncle Jeb Holt, but not for long.”
“Yeah, he’s leaving soon. Comes in once a week for a cut and a shave, but he said this was his last visit. Moving on soon,” the barber finished. “Save yourself some trouble and don’t bother approaching random people like him. You want work, go see Jenny down at the saloon. She always needs someone to wash dishes. Nobody wants to stick with that miserable job.”
This had gone better than she had planned. Feeling she had enough information for Cassandra, it was time to leave, but the man in the chair was beckoning her over. Against her better judgment, she crossed to him, and he motioned for her to lean in. Wishing to see where this was going, she complied.
In a low voice, the man with the unruly beard whispered, “You need some quick cash, you yellow beauty? I’ll give you five whole dollars if you suck my dick after I get my shave. What do you say, China doll?”
For a long moment, Lijuan’s narrow face was impassive as the man waited for an answer. Slowly she drew her mouth open in a grin, probably giving the man hope she thought.
She widened her eyes for effect. “Five whole dollar? You give me five dollar?”
Instantly she dropped her grin, and her hand blurred in a move that shocked the trio of men as she snatched the straight razor out of the barber’s hand, just barely avoiding cutting herself, dropped it down to the man’s crotch, and pressed it against his trousers as panic mushroomed in his eyes.
“I wouldn’t suck your likely diseased dick for all the tea in China,” she said, dropping her accent. The man began to quake, and she took the razor and threw it towards the wall, but instead of sticking as she intended, it bounced off, clattering to the floor. As she turned and walked away, she shrugged, “Oh, well we all can’t be an Honor Elizabeth when it comes to blades.”
CHAPTER 2
Back by the feed store after Lijuan had headed for the barber shop, Cassandra had slipped into the narrow alley between it and the freight hauler's office to wait. She had busied herself leafing through the town's newspaper someone had discarded into the alleyway. Cassandra dropped it back to the ground when her ears picked up the sound of a door being opened. Peeking around the corner, she saw Coltrane and a young man with the hair the color of straw emerge. Between them, they carried a long, narrow, wooden box. They hefted it into the back of a wagon that was parked directly in front of the shipping business.
“Much obliged, friend, but like I said, I could have managed that box all by my lonesome. If you’re looking for a tip, I’m afraid you’re pumping a dry well.”
The younger man’s hand went to the straps of his suspenders and held them, his face taking on a look of pride as he spoke. “Not at all, sir. My pop started this business when I was knee-high to a grasshopper, and the one thing he always tells me … the customer comes first. Just wanted to see this transaction through to the end.”
Coltrane nodded his head, his hand stroking what Cassandra suspected was a newly shaven jaw. “Well, as said, much obliged. If you want to keep on serving your customers, do me a favor and keep an eye on my wagon here. I aim to wet my whistle with a quick drink before I head back to my uncle’s place.”
“I’ll watch it like a hawk, sir.”
With that, the exchanged ended and Cassandra’s eyes followed the man’s path leading across the street to a saloon whose weather-beaten sign proclaimed it The Whisky Barrel. At the same time, he disappeared through the batwing doors, Lijuan came hustling down the wooden sidewalk. Quickly, the petite Asian gave her a rundown on what she had learned.
“That fits. I overheard him say something about an uncle too. We’ll follow him out there, but we should find out exactly where this Jeb Holt lives. I don’t intend to lose him, but better safe than sorry,” she said mapping out their next moves as she saw Lijuan’s eyes flick down towards the far end of the street at the fencing company.
“I suppose there is no reason to hope you’d simply stroll over to the sheriff’s office, tell him you’ve got a bad guy to serve him up on a silver platter, and we could get on over to the fencing company. I’m telling you, without that fence, that damn Rooster McCarthy is going to try and encroach on our property!”
The twinge of guilt for commandeering Lijuan’s trip flared up again, but at least she had good reason for not carrying out her sister’s suggestion. Her index finger pointed down towards the paper on the ground.
“I was looking over the local paper while I was waiting, and there was a story about the sheriff and his deputies transporting some prisoners to a territorial prison. According to the article, they aren’t due back until tomorrow.”
Sardonically, Lijuan huffed, “Well, it’s nice of the editor of the local rag to announce to every criminal in the area there’s no law enforcement.”
“You’re assuming most of these jaspers can read. It’s been my experience a whole passel of them aren’t familiar with the alphabet, explaining some of them turning to crime to get by.”
Lijuan threw up a white flag of surrender, “Okay, so we’ve got to get the low down on the uncle. It’s safe to say we won’t be getting any more help from anyone at the barbershop.”
Cassandra gave a raise of her eyebrow as she planted her hands on her hips next to the pair of silver-plated Colt .45s that had adorned her waist for many a year. “What exactly did you do back there?”
“Let’s just say someone’s pleasure-making tools had a close shave and leave it at that.”
Cassandra wanted to be exasperated, but she couldn’t. Lijuan was helping her like she always did, like all her sisters did and on occasion her brothers as well did. Besides, this was the Lijuan she preferred, not the quiet, mousy little girl she had been when they were children.
“How about the freight store? We could ask someone there?” Lijuan offered, but Cassandra shook her head.
“I’d prefer we ask someone who wouldn’t ask a lot of questions. I fear the clerk would be curious to know why we are asking about someone he just did business with. Besides, he’s watching the wagon with that box in it that he just picked up,” Cassandra said, jerking her thumb towards the man’s ride. “When Coltrane comes back, he could come out and tell him someone was asking about his uncle. We can’t spook him if we want him to lead us back to the stolen wealth.”
Lijuan crossed her arms and licked her lips. “So that’s the endgame here, isn’t it? That’s why you don’t just arrest him when he comes back to the wagon. You think he’s going to lead us right to that load of silver his gang made off with.”
“You know it is, Lijuan. That filth didn’t just steal from the mint … what they were really doing was stealing from every person in this country in a way. We’re going to set it right!”
Her sister’s laughter drifted on the warm summer air. “You really ought to listen to yourself sometime, Cassandra. I swear the last thing you think about when you go to bed at night is law, and the first thing you think about when you wake up is law and order!”
Cassandra returned her laughter. “I can attest to you, on a stack of Bibles if you prefer, those were not the things I was thinking about two nights ago when I laid with Crocker Jones and spent the night over to his place!”
One of Lijuan’s eyebrows shot up over this revelation, “You slept Crocker Jones down at his livery? I thought he had a fiancé!”
“Ex-fiancé. She broke it off with him last week telling him she wanted to do better in life than being the wife of some small-time livery shop owner; plus, she hates horses. Wanting to sow his wild oats after being a one-woman man for years, I happened to be the first woman to fall into his bed … and it was his bed! It didn’t happen at the stables!”
***
With Lijuan keeping an eye out the front window on The Whiskey Barrel to confirm Coltrane was still inside, the pair stood in front of the counter at the local post office. A slender man with owl-like eyes peered at them as he peered up from sorting
letters on the counter. His face looked tired to Cassandra, like one that had seen far too many things in life that it shouldn’t have, but still, he gave her a smile.
“What can I do for you ladies? You have something to post?”
“Thank you, sir, but I’m looking for an address for a Mister Jeb Holt. I reckon you know him, being the postmaster and all.”
“You reckon right. Hell, everyone around here knows old Jeb, but most don’t see him these days, not since the end of the war when he lost his boy. He’s become something of a recluse.”
“I see.”
"I can tell you where he's at, but I'm afraid if you're looking for him to make you a bell, he done gave that up a couple of years ago. He soldiered on making them after his boy died, but his heart wasn't in it. He's a bitter man, you see when he used to come and drink in the saloon, he was always fretting how he had come home from fighting the Mexican-American war without a scratch and had expected his boy to be similarly blessed, only to have him die at Antietam."
Still keeping her eye on the watering hole across the street, Lijuan asked, “What are you talking about? What do you mean make a bell?”
“Yes, I don’t understand,” Cassandra asked mystified.
“Oh, I just assumed you were folks from that new mission that’s opening up around here. What with the China girl and all.”
“What?” Lijuan’s agitation rang loud and clear in a single word. Cassandra looked back over her shoulder to give her a sharp look to keep it in check, but her sister was looking away. Turning back to the man, she flashed him a smile.
“I’m sorry. I’m still not following you.”
“We heard the Prophet Prescott Bell was opening up one of his Gabriel’s Horn ministries not far from here. He’s known for helping folks most just sweep under the carpet like your Injuns and your Chinamen. Just figured you wanted to see Jeb about making a bell. Lord knows half the bells in the towns for a good fifty miles around were made by him when he was running his bell foundry.”