Read Online Robert B. Parker's Blackjack by Robert Knott - Free Book Online Page B

boys?”
    “Two boys. Ray Junior and Carl.”
    She lowered her head and sobbed.
    “Stay right here,” I said. “Don’t move.”
    I moved to tie off my horse as Virgil came riding up the wash with his Winchester in hand.
    “What do we got?” he said.
    “Shot him,” I said. “Not sure if he’s dead or alive. Neither is she.
    “This woman, this is her place here, hers and her husband. Shesaid her husband was killed this morning by the one man that was left here, the sick one. Guess Truitt and Black left him here, left him to his damnable fate.”
    “Who else here, besides her?”
    “Nobody. She said her two sons were expected back here soon.”
    “Ray told him he could have a horse just as soon as my boys returned,” she said. “But he shot Ray anyway.”
    Virgil nodded, then dismounted.
    I exchanged my Winchester for my eight-gauge, and once Virgil got tied off we moved off, following the wash south.

19.
    V irgil and I followed the rock-bottom wash for about a hundred yards, and then it curved back toward the road. We crossed the road out of sight of the way station. Then we made our way back toward the building. Once we had it in sight we cut back to the west, walked another couple hundred yards, and came up on the depot from the back side.
    We split up and moved up on opposite sides of the living quarters. After a time of waiting, hearing nothing and not seeing movement, we crossed swiftly up to the back of the way station.
    The back door was cracked open, and Virgil moved up to one side of the door and I positioned myself on the other side.
    I pushed on the door with the barrel of my eight-gauge and it swung open. There were no shots fired. I took off my hat and moved it just past the doorjamb, soliciting fire, but again there was nothing, and within an instant I moved in and Virgil followed.
    The interior was a simple storeroom with supplies for sale and a kitchen with a counter for eating and drinking.
    Lying flat on his back in the center of the room was the man with the dark scraggly beard we’d heard about. It was obvious by his size and shape he was young, but how young exactly was hard to tell because his face was covered with blood. He was very much alive and it was clear to see the result of my single shot was at least for the moment not fatal, but the bullet had clipped off his nose. The combination of his missing nose and swollen jaw from where Mrs. Opelka removed two teeth made for a grotesque image.
    He turned his head ever so slightly, looking blankly at Virgil and me, and then looked back up at the ceiling. Every labored breath he took made a bubble of blood where his nose used to be.
    The rifle he killed Skinny Jack with was lying in front of the north window where he dropped it when I shot him. He made no effort to go for the rifle or the pistol he had on his hip.
    I moved to him and removed the pistol from his hip and snugged it behind my belt.
    “Where are the other two?” Virgil said.
    He choked on his blood, then spit.
    “Fuck them,” he said. “They . . . they left me here . . .”
    His voice was muffled and muted from a swollen mouth and a missing nose. He turned his head a little and spit a large gob of blood across the floor, and when he did we could see the bullet not only took off his nose but took a hunk of flesh from his cheek as well.
    “They . . . they . . . took my horse,” he said.
    “Truitt and Bill got your nose shot off, too,” I said.
    He looked at me wide-eyed as tears welled up.
    “Fu . . . fuck them,” he said again, then moaned.
    “Where are they?”
    He didn’t answer. He lay motionless, staring at the ceiling.
    “How about we help you,” I said. “Give you an ounce of satisfaction.”
    He stared at the ceiling for a long moment.
    “Wh . . . what?” he said, then spit another stream of blood. “How the fuck are you gonna give me satisfaction?”
    “By you telling us where they took off to,” I said. “That would have to give