Chapter Twenty-Six
Miguel Ramirez scratched the growth of beard at his chin as he rode into Sacramento. He promised himself King would not outsmart him again. Entering the town, Miguel headed for the marshal’s office.
He’d tracked King through Texas, up through the northern states, and into Omaha missing him at each turn. He was confident he’d caught him in Omaha near the train station. The local sheriff there assured Miguel he’d seen the man he sought. The fool told him he’d been mistaken in his assurance. The man he suspected of being King wasn’t him at all, but a man traveling west with his young wife and children.
Miguel assumed King outmaneuvered the sheriff. Frustrated at having been so close to his prey, Miguel hadn’t known which way to head. Would King have gotten on the train headed west or go in another direction? Most other bounty hunters would have given up the search, the frustration becoming too much, but Miguel never gave up. His own frustration drove him harder.
Receiving a message from a Marshal Marcus Rhodes promising King could be found in Sacramento was a stroke of luck. Now Miguel had arrived in Sacramento. His prey was so near, he was eager to complete his goal of capture.
Miguel walked into the marshal’s office glancing around the vacant confines. A man walked out of a back room. “Marshal Rhodes?” Miguel inquired. The man glanced up from the papers in his hands at the sound of another’s voice.
“No, I’m Andrew Donahue, the sheriff,” he corrected. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“My name’s Miguel Ramirez. Marshal Rhodes has sent for me in connection to a man I’m searching for,” he explained.
“Yes, of course,” Andrew said.
“Is the marshal here?” Miguel Ramirez questioned the sheriff.
“No, he’s stepped out,” Andrew responded.
“When will he be back?” Miguel asked.
“Hard to say,” Andrew replied, scratching his head. “The marshal’s out by the Finster place. With Mavis Finster, you never know how long you might be delayed. You see, the Finsters have this herd of cattle,” Andrew explained, leaning against the desk. “A sorry lot by most standards. They do have a nice bit of land though, good grazing grass.”
Miguel couldn’t fathom how the sheriff believed he was interested in his jabbering.
“…that’s where the sheepherders come in,” Andrew continued.
Miguel took a heavy breath, regarding the sheriff with barely concealed tolerance.
“Their sheep keep crossing over onto the Finster land and ruining the grazing grass with their hooves. The grass becomes useless for the Finster’s herd to eat.”
“A shame,” Miguel said, hurrying the sheriff on with his reply.
“Don’t worry,” Andrew assured him. “Most of the Finster’s herd doesn’t need much fattening up. The Finster’s butcher one of their herds when they have run out of beef for their table. Mavis Finster says she couldn’t face the rest of the herd knowing she sent one of their members to market more often. The Finsters are a little peculiar.”
Miguel clenched his fists. They weren’t the only ones. The sheriff could join them. He didn’t give a damn about the cattle. He’d come to see the marshal.
“You might return later this afternoon,” Andrew said in answer to the man’s question. He acted as though the conversation never strayed from the point. “You’re welcome to wait however, if you prefer,” he offered.
“I’d rather not,” Miguel said, shaking his head, adamant in his conviction. “If you could tell me where I can find Jared King. He is who I intend to speak to the marshal about.”
“Jared King,” Andrew said in recognition. “He’s someone you’ll have to talk to the marshal about. He’s the only one who knows anything about him. I can give you directions to the Finster ranch. You can discuss your business there.” Andrew jotted down some directions as he spoke. “You might find the Finster ranch difficult to find, some do,” Andrew informed Miguel. “I know the first few times I went out there, I got lost. Felt like an idiot,” Andrew confided.
“I’ll find it,” Miguel bit off, considering how apt the sheriff’s description of himself fit. Miguel never met anyone so dull-witted as Sheriff Andrew Donahue. The marshal better be more alert than his addlepated sheriff.
****
Following the bounty hunter’s departure, Andrew exited the office through the back door, proceeding to the Grand Marquis Hotel.
“He’s here,” Andrew announced when Jared opened the door of his suite.
Jared waved Andrew inside.
Taryn joined the two men in the living room, her heart in her throat. This is what they’d been waiting for, and dreading.
Jared felt relieved and filled with a familiar tension knowing Ramirez was so close. Anything could go wrong. “You sent him to Etta’s as we discussed?”
Andrew nodded. Ramirez accepted Marcus would be the source with information about you. He’s not interested in wasting time,” he observed.
“Etta will give us the time we need right now,” Jared assured him. “By the time Ramirez gets back to town, Jonathan will be in place to act as the marshal. Where’s Rhodes now?” he asked, his thoughts tumbling one on top of the other.
“Fate is on your side. Marcus went to the barber’s minutes before Ramirez came to the office,” Andrew said.
“Good,” Jared sighed. “All we need now is to keep Rhodes occupied for the day, and Ramirez to believe Jonathan when he tells him I’ve left town.” Jared’s focus hardened in concentration, his gaze fixed on Andrew. “You know what to do next?”
Andrew nodded, heading for the door. “I’ll send word to you as soon as everything’s clear.”
****
A hard rap on the door brought Etta to the foyer of her home. Opening the door to the visitor, she gave the stranger an inquiring glance. “May I help you with something?”
“Mrs. Finster, my name is Miguel Ramirez. Sheriff Andrew Donahue told me I could find Marshal Rhodes here. I wonder if I might speak with him?” he requested remembering something of his manners in front of the lady.
“Mrs. Finster?” Etta repeated with a confused gaze.
Miguel expected entry into the home and further escorted to the marshal. He even took a step forward in anticipation of her allowing him in. He paused. Perhaps she hadn’t captured the full content of his request or her hearing was not intact. “You are Mrs. Finster, aren’t you?” he asked, raising his voice.
“There’s nothing wrong with my hearing, young man,” she stated, adjusting her glasses on her nose. “No, I am not Mrs. Finster. My name is Etta Briggs. The Finster ranch is east of here.”
Miguel inhaled a steadying breath to control his frustration. He couldn’t understand it. He’d followed the sheriff’s directions without confusion. He couldn’t be at the wrong place.
“Don’t chide yourself, Mr. Ramirez, you’re not the first to mistake my home for the Finster place. The roads out this way are poorly marked. Do come in. I’ll direct you from here.” Etta showed him to the parlor, retrieving a piece of paper on which to write. She proceeded to sketch a small map for him then made certain he could follow it. “Would you care for some lemonade, Mr. Ramirez?”
“No, ma’am,” Miguel declined, wondering at his politeness toward the woman when he steamed within. The woman reminded him of his mother. “It’s imperative that I speak to the marshal.” He started for the entrance, but she detained him before he took two steps.
“One glass won’t detain you,” Etta said, ignoring his words, calling for someone named Benita to bring a pitcher with two glasses. “I planned to have some myself when you arrived. Besides, after riding all this long way from town, you must be thirsty.”
Miguel wanted to refuse. He should have no compunction about doing so. Etta Briggs gave him the oddest feeling if he did refuse it would be as bad as insulting his own mother. One glass would take a moment’s time to consume, and he was thirsty. He sat in the proffered chair.
Four glasses of lemonade, three pastries, and two hours later, Miguel walked out of the woman’s home hoping he could still get to the actual Finster place before dusk. How did he allow the woman to delay him for two hours? He mounted his horse discovering himself waving good-bye to the woman who stood returning his wave in the doorway. He jerked his arm down the moment she closed the door.
Miguel glanced about him checking to see if his compadres weren’t standing nearby hooting with laughter. The unrelenting bounty hunter waving good-bye to granny. He glanced at the piece of paper with the directions to the Finsters’, crumpling it in his hand. With a growl, he spurred the horse forward, furious with the fact he played these games and wasted his time.
****
Marcus returned to his office thirty minutes after leaving it. “Anything happening here?” he asked Andrew.
“Ben Masters sent someone in to ask you to go out to their ranch. There’s some dispute,” Andrew commented.
“There’s always some dispute,” Marcus fumed. “Why didn’t you go?”
“I offered,” Andrew said easily, “but they insisted on you.”
“All right,” Marcus uttered. “I’ll be back before dusk. It’s not how I planned to spend the remainder of the day,” he said in irritation, leaving the office.
“But it’s how we want you to spend the day,” Andrew returned when the door closed behind Marcus. Andrew released his breath in a nervous sigh. As soon as Marcus left town, Jonathan would come into the office and assume his role for the bounty hunter.
Marcus took the west road out of town but reined in his horse once out of view from anyone who might be watching his departure. Marcus longed for this type of opportunity. King was aware of Miguel Ramirez’s impending arrival. Marcus couldn’t be sure if he himself would know of the bounty hunter’s arrival before King.
It was obvious Ramirez arrived, and King was the first to know. A shame his plan to escape the bounty hunter wouldn’t work. Marcus stayed one step ahead of King this time. A dispute at Ben Masters’ ranch. Andrew had been very convincing. Too bad it backfired on him. What Andrew didn’t know was Ben Masters had been at the barber’s. Ben didn’t mention a thing. Marcus already made arrangements that couldn’t fail.
Marcus circled around, heading back to town, taking lesser traveled roads until he came to the back entrance of Rose’s Saloon where he entered undetected. He left a message with the proprietor informing the man he expected someone to join him. Climbing the stairs to the upper floor, Marcus entered a room where he waited. Three hours later, Marcus answered the knock on the door of the room.
“Marshal Rhodes?”
“Mr. Ramirez, do come in,” Marcus said, gesturing for the man to enter.
“I hope you’re ready to deliver on your promises, Marshal,” Miguel said. “Because I’m tired of being led on a chase with no end.”
“I understand,” Marcus commiserated, “but it was necessary so King wouldn’t become suspicious. As I told you in the subsequent telegrams I sent to you confirming this meeting, extreme caution is paramount if we’re to succeed in our mutual goals.”
“Let’s conclude this,” Miguel demanded. “Where’s King?”
“I would imagine he’s at one of two places,” Marcus said. “Either at the hotel where he’s residing or at his wife’s relatives. Now,” he said in a voice dripping with glee at the prospect of handing King over to this bounty hunter. “Wait in my office. I’ll go check the hotel. If he’s there, you’ll have him in your custody within the next ten minutes.”
****
“Shouldn’t we have heard something by now?” Taryn asked Jared, biting her lip as they waited in their suite for word from Andrew. The inactivity drove her insane. Hours had passed.
“Maybe not,” he replied, his gaze still focused on the street below from the place he stood by the window.
She and Jared were both wound up, jumping at the slightest sound to the point where neither wanted to move at all for fear of startling the other.
“Jared, let me go find out from Andrew what’s happening,” she said, moving to his side.
“We can’t risk it, Taryn. If Ramirez happened to see you back in Omaha and recognizes you here in town, he’ll know something’s going on. We don’t know what the sheriff in Omaha told him.”
“But he may not have seen me then,” she suggested. “His concentration right now is on you. He won’t be paying attention to anyone else. I’ll keep hidden by going around to the back entrance of the marshal’s office.”
Jared debated having her take the chance. In order to go undetected by Ramirez, he could do nothing more than wait for the results of his plan. “All right,” he agreed in frustration, but be quick about it. “Go there, find out, and come back.”
Taryn rushed out of the hotel and down the staircase, slowing her pace as she walked through the hotel lobby. She walked out onto the verandah of the hotel, running down the steps and across the street. Darting in and out between buildings, she made her way to the marshal’s office. She glanced down the street to see if anyone noticed her flight. She froze at the sight of who walked toward the hotel. The marshal. He was supposed to be out at the Masters’ ranch. She didn’t know what to do. Should she run back to the hotel hoping to get by the marshal to warn Jared or continue onto the marshal’s office to inform Andrew and Uncle Jonathan? Closer to the marshal’s office by half, she made her choice. She could reach the office faster if she ran down the main street walkway.
She took the chance. Picking up her skirts, she ran the length of the walkway, moving out onto the street when two ladies paused in conversation, blocking her path. She chanced another glance over her shoulder for the marshal and proceeded to run into someone. Jarred by the impact, Taryn stumbled back. “I’m sorry,” she said, fighting for breath. She stared into the face of the man she’d hit. She didn’t recognize him as anyone she knew. A strange foreboding rippled through her. “I’m sorry, Mr…”
“Ramirez,” Miguel supplied. “Are you all right, miss,” he said, steadying the girl as she appeared faint.
“I’m fine,” she said, her voice shaking. She stood in front of the bounty hunter whose intent was the marshal’s office. They stood in front of the building. The marshal had been walking toward the hotel. It could only mean one thing. The marshal went to pick Jared up to take him to his office where he would hand him over to Miguel Ramirez.
“Maybe you should sit,” Miguel suggested.
“No, I’m fine,” Taryn repeated, jerking away, and racing around the side of the building next to the marshal’s office. She couldn’t have the bounty hunter know she headed for the same building as he. He would be at the office before her, but she needed to warn Andrew that something had gone horribly wrong. One small advantage—Miguel Ramirez did not recognize her. She reached the back of the marshal’s office, pounding on the door.
A few agonizing moments later, Andrew unlocked the door. Surprise etched his brow to see Taryn rush in. She pulled him into the far corner of the back room, her gaze darting toward the entrance to the front room.
“Taryn, what are you doing?” Andrew whispered. “Ramirez is out front right now.”
“I know,” she whispered back. “The marshal is at the hotel.”
“What?” Andrew said in incredulity.
“Andrew, I think they both know,” Taryn almost cried. “I think the marshal went to pick Jared up to bring him here for Miguel Ramirez to take to Mexico. You’ve got to go back out front. Think of a ruse to get Uncle Jonathan back here alone. We have to do something.” She broke her promise to Jared, but it was an emergency. He’d want her to use her best judgment.
****
From the moment Taryn left the hotel, Jared began pacing the living room. Where was she? Twenty minutes passed. A knock on the door sent him rushing over, assuming it was Taryn returning. Preoccupied with his thoughts, he didn’t consider she wouldn’t knock when she carried a key.
“Taryn…” Jared said, yanking the door open.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” Marcus Rhodes said, standing in the doorway, gun in hand. He chuckled at the apprehension in King’s eyes. “Not expecting me back so soon, King?” Marcus questioned. “Did you think I wasn’t aware you’d be planning something?” he goaded. Marcus gestured with his gun for King to step out into the hallway. “After you. There’s someone waiting for you at my office. I know he’s anxious to reunite you with your friends in Mexico.”
Walking down the stairs at gunpoint, Jared wondered what options to use at his disposal. If he ran, the marshal would not hesitate in shooting him in the back. He could wrestle the gun from the marshal, then escape, but he didn’t know where Taryn was at the moment. For all Jared knew, Ramirez could be holding her as security. As much as he didn’t want to face Ramirez, he needed to wait until he reached the marshal’s office to see if she was there.
“You’ve obtained your wish,” Jared commented to Rhodes as they reached the lobby.
“A long time in coming,” Marcus said, his victory evident in his confident stride.
“You should be commended for your efforts, Marshal,” Jared said conversationally. “Killing Breck yourself then trying to blame it on me was ingenious.”
“You can never prove I was involved in any way,” Marcus told King. “If your wife hadn’t come forward, I’d have been able to hang you for it,” Marcus spat.
“So, you decided to attempt a different method of revenge by trying to kill my brother?”
“Fitting, wouldn’t you say? I overheard Gwen Dalton and Anita Morrell talking of it,” Marcus informed him. “Your brother for mine,” Marcus said. “He shouldn’t have lived,” Marcus said, unable to hide his bitterness. Controlling himself, he smiled. “A fate easily remedied.”
Jonathan walked into the back room with Andrew wondering what madness consumed the man to drag him away when he was about to tell the bounty hunter of how Jared disappeared from town. “Andrew, what the hell…” Jonathan stopped, seeing Taryn, knowing something wasn’t right.
“He knows,” Andrew informed Jonathan. “The marshal’s back and is on his way here with Jared. We don’t have a lot of time, but Taryn has an idea.”
Taryn remained hidden in the back room when Andrew and Jonathan returned to the front office area.
“I apologize, Mr. Ramirez,” Jonathan said. “As I was saying, Mr. King…”
“Why don’t we drop the pretense?” Miguel said. “I know you’re not the marshal. In fact, I’ve spoken with the marshal, and he should be returning shortly with Mr. King.”
“I don’t know who you’ve been talking to or what you’ve been told,” Jonathan said, nonplussed, “but you better get your stories straight. Where did you meet this person claiming to be me?” he demanded.
“Rose’s Saloon,” Miguel said.
“Rose’s Saloon,” Jonathan chortled. “I suppose the proprietor assured you the marshal waited your convenience in one of the upper meeting rooms?”
“Yes,” Miguel said.
“The proprietor of Rose’s Saloon can be bought for a very nominal price to tell anyone anything,” Jonathan said, driving his point home. He proceeded to describe the marshal’s features. “Does the description fit him?”
“I believe you’ve described him,” Miguel agreed.
“I hate to be the one to tell another lawman he’s been fooled, but I’m afraid you were talking with Jared King himself.” Jonathan laughed. “King has used the ploy before. If he returned to the hotel as you say, he went to pack his things and leave. If I might suggest, you would be wise to…”
Miguel Ramirez was already out the door. Jonathan and Andrew took a collective sigh, each hoping nothing else would go wrong. Andrew headed for the door to wrap up his part of their alternative plan.
Jared saw Ramirez racing toward the hotel before Marcus, who stood behind him at the bottom of the verandah steps. He didn’t move, fearing Ramirez recognized him. By Ramirez’s expression, he wasn’t going to wait to return him to Mexico but, instead, kill him.
Marcus noticed the bounty hunter. Without thinking, he moved forward to King’s side wondering why the man rushed to the hotel when they were to meet at his office.
Bracing himself for Ramirez, Jared staggered back when the bounty hunter barreled into the marshal instead. He knocked him to the ground, yanking the gun from Rhodes’ fingers. Having no idea what was happening, Jared took advantage of the moment, ducking around a pillar before his identity was exposed.
Grabbing Rhodes forcefully by the arm, Miguel threw his weapon aside, retrieved his own gun, sticking it under Marcus’ chin.
“What are you doing?” Marcus demanded trying to pull away from Miguel Ramirez but not able to with the man’s hold on him, cautious of the gun below his chin.
“You almost succeeded,” Miguel snarled. “You knew I wouldn’t recognize you by face, taking advantage of it by impersonating a marshal. Well, King, the game is finished.” Miguel removed the handcuffs from the man’s belt, locking his prisoner’s hands in front of him.
“Impersonating… I am the marshal!” Marcus roared.
“You can tell your story to the Mexican police. I’m sure they’ll be more willing to listen to you than I.” Miguel jerked him up. He would not wait another moment to begin his journey back to Mexico with King.
Marcus spluttered his outrage. “You’re mad.” Andrew Donahue walked down the street toward them. Marcus called out to the sheriff. Andrew walked up to them. “Thank God,” Marcus breathed. “Andrew, tell this man who I am.”
Andrew’s gaze shifted from Marcus Rhodes to Miguel Ramirez. “His name is Jared King,” Andrew said without hesitation.
“Sheriff,” Miguel said, “I need to get a second horse. If you could guard him for a moment…”
“Of course,” Andrew said, pulling his own weapon on Marcus.
When Miguel left them, Marcus erupted. “Take these damn cuffs off me, you idiot,” he finished. “What do you think you’re doing by this stunt?”
“I believe it is called justice, Marcus,” Andrew said. “Something you haven’t practiced in some time. It all culminated with you killing Dean Breck, then the attempt on Luke Morrell. Jared King was innocent of any wrongdoing concerning your brother, you know it as well as I. But you were so blinded by your determination to avenge your brother’s life you chose to even things up. So obsessed with King, you were willing to do anything, even murder. Well, now you can take your obsession one step farther and become him.”
Miguel Ramirez returned leading a horse behind him. At gunpoint, Miguel forced Rhodes to get on the back of the horse then tied his wrists still handcuffed to the saddle horn.
“I’m telling you my name’s Marcus Rhodes. I’m the marshal for God’s sake!” Marcus screeched in desperation, attempting to convince the bounty hunter. “They’re all in on this together. You’ve got to listen to me!” Marcus shouted to Miguel Ramirez.
Miguel mounted his own horse, steered the horse around to come up alongside of his prisoner’s, then backhanded the man across his face. “I don’t have to listen to anything,” he snapped. “If you open your mouth again, I’ll put a bullet in it to close it. You’ll have plenty of time to talk to the police when we reach Mexico.” Taking up the reins of his prisoner’s horse, Miguel spurred his own animal onward.
Joining Jared where he stood, Andrew regarded the direction Miguel Ramirez took with the marshal. “What do you think will happen to the marshal when they reach Mexico?”
“The Mexican police will realize the mistake made. Unlike Ramirez, they do know what I look like. After questioning Rhodes, they’ll release him.”
“Then he’ll return for you,” Andrew remarked.
“I doubt it. If Rhodes returns here, he’ll have his own trial to face for the murder of Breck, and the attempt on Luke’s life,” Jared said.
“And Ramirez?” Luke asked.
“If I know the Mexican police, Ramirez will be too busy trying to explain away his failure to them to be bothered with me anytime soon. “Besides,” Jared added, “he still doesn’t know my face.”
“Everything seems to have resolved itself,” Andrew commented. “All except for the marshal’s position being vacant now,” he added.
“What about you?” Jared asked Andrew.
“I have no desire for the position,” Andrew replied. “I know my limitations. The ideal person for the position would be someone whose reputation alone could hinder those inclined to break the law,” he finished, and then raised an eyebrow to Jared.
“There is a sense of irony to it,” Jared remarked.
“I could recommend you for the position to those responsible for making the final decision,” Andrew offered. “I believe we’d work well together,” he added.
Jared nodded, shaking Andrew’s hand.
Taryn ran to the hotel into Jared’s arms, her body still shaking from the whole episode. Uncle Jonathan came up behind her.
“I have to thank you all,” Jared said. “If it hadn’t been for your quick thinking, I’d be on my way to Mexico.”
“Taryn came up with the idea,” Jonathan said.
Jared’s eyes crinkled at the corners belying the stern gaze he bestowed on her.
“I found it necessary to break my promise,” she said, accompanied by a slight lift of her shoulders.
“You saved my life,” he returned in appreciation.
She smiled, relief flooding her knowing he was safe. It was over. “I’m glad I could rescue you for a change,” she commented.
Jared hugged her. His life was his own again.