Escape from Five Shadows - Leonard Elmore John - Страница 33
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“I’ll bust your face wide open. Honest to God I’ll fix you so no man’ll look at you as long as you live.”
Lizann’s eyes opened. She breathed in and out slowly, painfully, and said, “Let me sit down…I’ll tell you.”
“You’re stalling.”
“Let me sit down-”
Renda held her against the wall. “How’re you going to do it?”
“Willis wrote a letter. He mailed it from Fuegos.”
“You’re lying!”
“I swear it’s the truth!”
Renda went back a half step and drove his fist against her cheek.
“I’ll kill you! You understand that!” He moved against her before she could slide to the floor. Close to her face he said, “One more will fix you. One more and even Willis won’t know you.” Her head hung forward resting on his shoulder. He could feel her breathing against him, but she made no sign that she had heard.
“All right,” Renda said. His left hand held her against the wall as he stepped back.
Lizann raised her head. The side of her face was deep red, her cheekbone was skinned and a thin line of blood showed at the corner of her eye. Her eyes remained closed as she said, “I wrote the letter.”
“You’re lying!”
“I did!”
“How could you mail it?”
“I gave it to that girl from the station.” That was it. It was forming in her mind now-something to make him leave, something to give her time-but the pain made it difficult to think and she knew she had to be careful. You gave it to the girl, she thought hurriedly. But she hasn’t mailed it yet. He must think he can still get it. But get him out-for God’s sake get him out!
“When did you give it to her?”
Lizann opened her eyes slowly. “She was here just before you came. A few minutes before.”
“Nobody passed me. Not a soul.”
“Then she came the other way. I don’t know…but I gave it to her.”
“Lizzy, if you’re lying to me-”
“I swear it!”
Suddenly Renda turned from her. There was the sound of a horse outside. He waited. “Stay where you are,” he said then and went out into the front room. The moment he reached the doorway he saw that his horse was gone. He ran out, hearing the running hoofbeats now-two horses, one of them his, both moving through the open gate, then swinging south toward the wagon road.
“Karla!” Renda cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted after her. She did not look back, but he saw her release his horse before she disappeared over a low-swelling rise.
Lizann stood in the doorway to the bedroom. “What did you say? You called something.”
“Karla…she was still here.”
“You’re sure?”
“Listening to us all the time,” Renda said. “Else she wouldn’t be running now.”
Lizann stared at him.
“Now I’ll have to go after her,” Renda said. He looked at Lizann again. “I would’ve sworn you were lying. You’re lucky she was still around. You know I just might have killed you.”
Lizann nodded slowly. She did not trust herself to speak.
They had come down the wagon-road slope keeping in line with the windowless north side of the stage station and now, from the willows, they looked across the open yard to the front of the adobe.
“One horse in the shed,” Manring said.
Bowen was studying it. From this angle they could see only the hindquarters and saddle. “It could be Willis Favley’s dun,” Bowen said. Karla wouldn’t be back yet, he thought. That left her father and whoever owned the dun. That you’re sure of, he thought.
“It could be,” Manring said. “That’d be something if he was inside.”
Bowen’s hand went into the front of his shirt. “We’re about to find out,” he said. As he pulled Lizann’s revolver he saw the look of surprise come over Manring’s bearded face.
“Where’d you get that?”
“I told you, Earl, we didn’t need you as much as you thought.” Bowen turned and as Manring continued to stare at him, moved out from the willows.
He started to hurry across the open yard, then thought: Take your time. He slowed to a walk, keeping his eyes on the door, but not going directly for it. He reached the corner of the building, hesitated, then moved along the front of the adobe, past the two windows, to the screen door. He opened it, felt it open wider as Manring took it, and brought up the revolver as he stepped into the room.
At the far end, behind the bar, John Demery looked up. As he did, as the astonishment came over his face, Willis Falvey glanced around, then turned suddenly, pressing his back to the bar.
Bowen said. “Who else is here?” moving toward them.
Demery shook his head. “Nobody else. Karla-” he stopped. “You broke out!”
Bowen motioned with the revolver. “Come around to this side.” He glanced at Manring. “Look out back.”
Manring was staring at Falvey. “I got to talk to little Willis.” He walked toward him, ignoring Bowen.
Falvey pressed against the bar. “I never did anything to you.”
“Leave him alone,” Bowen said.
Falvey looked toward Bowen. “I don’t even know his name. How could I have done anything to him?”
Close to him Manring said, “You were there, boy. That’s enough.”
Bowen stepped toward them. “Get away from him, Earl.”
Falvey’s face was flushed; he’d had a lot of whiskey, Bowen judged, but not enough to hide his open-eyed, lip-biting expression of fear.
“I don’t care if you run away,” Falvey said. “More power to you. Ask John here, I was telling him…I don’t care anymore what goes on at that place.”
“He doesn’t care,” Demery said. “But not enough to pull out.”
Falvey turned on him. “Why should I? I do my job! What Frank does is none of my business!” He caught himself then. “You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re doing the talking,” Demery said. “Maybe I don’t know everything; but living within six miles of that place, and watching you, I know enough.”
Abruptly, Manring pulled Falvey around by his coat lapels. “Willis, are you packing a gun?”
Falvey shook his head emphatically. “It’s on my saddle. Gun and holster both hanging on the saddle.”
Manring released him, stepping back. “Let’s see.”
Falvey’s hands went to his coat. He unbuttoned it and was holding it open when Manring’s fist drove into his face. Head and shoulders snapped back and as his knees buckled Manring hit him again.
“Leave him alone!” Bowen was on Manring pushing him away and Demery caught Falvey before he could fall.
Manring stepped back, looking at Bowen now. “You’re a real do-gooder, aren’t you?”
“Earl, get out of here. Take a look out back; then bring the dun around and saddle another horse.”
“So you’re bossing,” Manring said mildly.
Bowen nodded. “Now you’re sure of it.”
“That’s a lot of order giving,” Manring said, “for a man who’s still got numbers on his pants.”
Bowen moved the revolver toward him. “You’re on a poor end for arguing about it, Earl.” He held the revolver on him until Manring turned and went out through the kitchen.
To Falvey, Bowen said, “You’d better sit down.”
Falvey shook his head. “I’m all right.” He took out a handkerchief to wipe the blood from his mouth, then turned to the bar and drank down the whiskey still in his glass.
Demery watched Bowen move to one of the front windows. “You didn’t see Karla,” he said. “You couldn’t have.”
Looking out across the yard to the willows Bowen said, “I saw her. She passed us just before…just before we ran off.”
“I mean,” Demery said, “you didn’t talk to her.”
Bowen looked at him now. “She wanted to tell me something, but Brazil was there.” It seemed a long time ago and he had almost forgotten it.
“Well, it doesn’t matter now,” Demery said.
“What doesn’t?”
“Man, you got a new trial coming up. New evidence, new trial, new everything!”
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