12
Slocum hissed at the other two. He heard the sound of shoe soles descending the stone steps. Someone was coming. It was not the sound of the guards’ heavy sandals this time; that’s what made him sharpen his senses. The candle lamp had long since gone out again, so there was no light in the room.
“Think it is Cherrycow?” Jesús asked in a whisper.
“Time that bastard got here,” Obregón complained.
The outer door to the jail chamber opened with a weary creak. Whoever was over there hissed, “Slocum, you in here?”
A woman’s voice, one he recognized in the inky darkness of the cell. Slocum was surprised, but thankful it was her.
“Yes, I’m here. Is that you, Angela?” He frowned in disbelief. How had she ever—?
“Sí.” She fumbled with the key in the lock.
“You have no light?” Obregón asked as the three men joined her at the locked cell door. At last the barred door opened and they were free.
“Do you have a gun?” Slocum hugged her shoulder in the darkness.
“Sí, two, and they are loaded.” It was pitch dark and she reached for Slocum’s hand to give him a revolver, then she handed Obregón the other one. “They were all I could get.”
“What time is it?” Slocum asked.
“Maybe three o’clock in the morning. I am unsure.”
“Lead the way. Everyone put their hand on the next one’s back. Let’s go,” he said.
“Oh, Madre de Dios,” Obregón said. “I am so grateful to you for this.”
They passed through the next door and climbed the steep steps. Slocum saw some light ahead and felt grateful too. “Are there still a lot of guards up there?”
There was enough light that he saw her shake her head.
“What has happened that you got in here to let us out?”
“The captain of the guard. He was horny.”
Slocum asked no more as they stepped into the hallway. Even though it was dim, the light was almost too much for the three men.
“Follow me,” Angela said and led them out into the back courtyard.
With his bow strung over his shoulder, Cherrycow stood up and waved at them to follow him.
“Where in the hell have you been?” Obregón demanded, looking around.
“Busy trying to get you out,” the man spoke brusquely. “That is not easy. Angela was the one who found you. I was in that casa three times since they caught you, but I couldn’t find you.”
“We were in the prison underground,” Slocum said.
“Juan, the old man who took you your food, told me where you were,” Angela said and then pointed to the waiting horses.
“Why did he tell you that?”
She smiled in the starlight as they reached the picketed horses. “A woman has ways to get information from men that even torture cannot get from them. Even really old men.”
He did not need any more answer than that. They checked their cinches and then mounted up. In the saddle, Slocum reached down and hoisted Angela up behind him.
“Can we go to Don Carlos’s house and rest?” Slocum asked Cherrycow.
“Sí, he was very worried about where you were when you did not come back.”
“He doing better?”
“Much better.”
“That’s good news.”
As they rode away, Slocum looked back at the outline of the huge, fortified building. What really went on inside that house?
“Whatever brought you back?” he asked Angela in a whisper.
“Oh, we can talk about that later. Just a witch’s way. Keep going.” She booted the horse they shared to make him go faster.
“You learn anything about the operations inside that house?” he asked her.
She hugged him around the middle, driving her breasts into his back. “I think it houses La Cucaracha.”
Slocum looked back and frowned at her as they crossed over a good-sized hill, the mountain horse under him hunching his way up the grade. “He’s in there?”
“I think his operations are in there.”
“Not him?”
“I think the one who is him may be calling himself something else.”
“I’ve thought that for a long time,” Slocum said. Had she really found out who the Cockroach was?
“Has anyone ever seen him?” Slocum asked her.
“No. I think whoever is playing him is like an actor in a play and uses that house to hide his identity.”
“It could be anyone then, huh?”
“I asked el capitán, but he told me nothing. But I think it is all some scheme so if his house of cards falls down, La Cucaracha can escape and not be sought. You can’t arrest someone when you don’t know who you’re looking for, right?”
Slocum agreed. After they were well away, they stopped briefly to eat some dried food that Cherrycow had in his saddlebags—Slocum and the two pistoleros were ravenous since the food they’d gotten during their confinement was terrible, and they’d had to force themselves to eat enough to keep their strength up.
They reached Don Carlos’s house a couple of hours later, and Slocum’s friend looked fresh sitting in a lounge chair, just finishing his breakfast.
“I see you made it out all right.”
“Thanks to one brave lady—Angela,” Slocum said and indicated her.
“Gracias, my dear. You have saved my great amigo, who in turn saved me and my ore from the bandits,” he said, starting to rise.
“You look very good.” Slocum shook his hand and made him stay sitting down.
Slocum squatted on his boot heels. “Salazar said Martina McCarty wasn’t at the house. Have you heard anything about where they have taken McCarty’s wife?”
“Who is Salazar anyway?” Angela asked.
“Mendez Salazar. He runs that operation at the house, or at least he acted like he did. He’s the one who killed Nada to trick me into going up there after him and then was waiting for us when we busted into the casa.”
“He is a rich man’s son. I know him, now that I think about the little cocksucker,” Don Carlos said. “Actually a spoiled child.”
“Where does his money come from?” Angela asked.
“Mexico City. His father has much money.”
“Enough to pay for all those guards?” Slocum asked.
“That would be nothing to him.” Don Carlos made a pained face when he shifted in the chair. “By the way, I have asked Donna to marry me. I hope you’re happy.”
“Did she say yes?” Slocum asked and then smiled.
“I think so,” Don Carlos said and then laughed. “Yes, she did.”
“You’re lucky.”
“Who is lucky?” Donna swept into the room.
“Him,” Slocum pointed at Don Carlos. Everyone laughed.
Donna smiled, then said, “Slocum, I have a hot bath for you being made ready upstairs. Send your clothing right down and wear the largest robe I have set out for you until they dry.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He winked at Angela. “Here’s to Angela.” He raised his glass high. “For getting us out of that damn prison.”
Everyone agreed.
Slocum and Angela went upstairs. When he opened the door, he spotted the steaming tub. “Whew, she aims to cook me.”
Angela poked him. “That place was pretty bad.”
“Yeah, I can still smell it.”
After his bath he busied himself shaving. “So whatever brought you back?”
“Oh, I knew you were in trouble. My dreams were all about you. You kept me awake. I worried the ones holding you might kill you before I could get up here. I found Cherrycow here in the village earlier. He took me to Don Carlos’s, and from there I went to work.”
“I owe you my life.” He swished the soap and whiskers off the blade in the pan of hot water, then went back to slicing off his stubble.
“Maybe I owe you more than that. Don’t worry about it.”
“What about your rancher deal?” Slocum frowned for an answer.
When he glanced at her for a reply, she stared at the ceiling for help. “Oh, he has so many problems, no wonder he has no woman. What I suspected about him, it happened. And oh, he is such a poor lover, my God, there was no way I could live with him.”
“Sorry.” He went back to shaving. “I still don’t have Martina McCarty away from those bastards. In fact I haven’t found her. Can you help me?”
“I will look for her.”
“Good, I can damn sure use the help. Salazar says he has her son too.”
“You said—”
“I know the pistoleros were angry over him saying that. Why would that bastard say that if he didn’t have the boy?”
She stretched her arms over her head. “Hombre, I have no idea. The rest will be taking siestas since they were up all night. Can we?”
He laughed, rinsing off his face with a wet cloth. “It ain’t sleep you want.”
She shrugged. “Oh, we can do that later.”
Then she ripped off the towel from around his waist and moved in to hug him. “You know what I need.”
Yes, he knew all right.