Read Online Deadly Shoals by Joan Druett - Free Book Online Page B

join the fight. Swinging their ponchos, they thundered by, hollering as they went.
    Gradually the commotion diminished, as the women, children, and cattle disappeared in one direction, and the gauchos in the other. Wiki and Stackpole hurried in the wake of Bernantio’s party, with Wiki worrying about the Swallow, and reassuring himself that the United States was not at war with France. Men at the foot of the sandstone cliffs, which were much closer now, could be seen gathering up brush for fuel, preparing to set fire to the scrub. He could now guess where the salt harvesters had gone.
    They arrived in El Carmen in a clatter of hooves, to find the streets silent and deserted. Adams’s store was firmly locked, with the shutters up over the windows, and there was no answer when they hammered at the door. Wiki remounted his horse and sat in the saddle looking around, and then said, “The fort’s empty, too. The governor will be at the estuary with his troops.”
    Stackpole was looking saddle-sore, and very much the worse for wear. His clothes were smeared with salt and extremely dusty, and his eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed.
    He said, “So what next?”
    â€œI’m heading back to the river mouth to learn what’s happening.” And make sure the Swallow was not under attack. “And then I’ll find the governor and report the murder.”
    â€œWell, I’m staying.”
    â€œWhat about the Trojan ? Aren’t you worried about the French squadron?”
    Stackpole snorted. “Why should I worry? My mate will have her well out to sea, cruising for whales the way I told him. It’s a lot more important to find Rowland Hallett and shake my money out of him, the cheating bastard. There’s that closemouthed clerk, too. He won’t get away with silence so easy this time.”
    â€œBut what about the French? What if they take El Carmen?”
    â€œI’m American, aren’t I? And I ain’t worth robbing, anyway.”
    Wiki hesitated, torn between his sense of responsibility to the victim of Adams’s theft and his fears for the brig Swallow. The weather was deteriorating fast, and the older loyalty won. He wheeled his horse, crying, “I’ll be back as soon as I can!”
    If I can, he thought, but still didn’t change his mind. Slapping the reins, he dashed down the shallow steps that led to the river, turned onto the riverside path, and hurried in the direction of the sea, where a great bank of black clouds was forming. Twice, in the distance, he saw the quick flicker of lightning.
    It wasn’t until he was a half mile away that the horrid thought occurred to him—that Hallett might not be just a thief. The man who had cheated Stackpole of his money could also be the man who’d killed Adams.
    *   *   *
    It was mid-afternoon before Wiki reached the sidetrack that led past the ranch where he had hired the horses and on up to the headland. It looked more treacherous than he remembered, winding steeply upward through scrub and sliding screes of gravel. Most horses would have been too tired after the trek to attempt the climb, but his mare was a hardy gaucho steed, and after a bit of kicking on Wiki’s part she obliged, finally lunging over the top with a snort and a shake that shivered sweat off her shoulders.
    Wiki sat up straight in his saddle to scan the promontory for any sign of soldiers—either the governor’s troops or the invading French. However, the scene was empty, apart from birds and a few scurrying small animals, and he wondered where the gauchos had gone. Encouragingly, however, he could just discern a flagstaff lifting out of what seemed to be thick fog in the distance, and recognized it as the one that stood above the beach and the pilothouse.
    A wind whisked up, sending the fringes of his poncho flying, and heavy spots of rain smacked against his face, forcing him to duck his head. For