Julie Garwood - Come the Spring

bodies and whispered, "The bullet came through the back of this man's

head, went out through his forehead and into the neck of the man facing

him. The same thing happened with those two. They were playing a

game, " he added. "Trying to kill two with one bullet. You already

figured that out, didn't you? " Ryan nodded. "Yes."

"The robbery was yesterday. Why v. ^eren't these bodies buried? "

"The sheriff thought he should leave them here for us to see. I have a

feeling he hasn't been a lawman long." Cole shook his head again.

"There's a funeral cart outside. These people need to be buried."

"Then order it done, " Ryan challenged.

Cole turned to go outside, but stopped with his hand on the doorknob.

"Whenever I'm away from the ranch, I work alone."

"You don't work alone any longer."

"I should warn you. I do things different . . .

Some of it won't be legal."

"I figured as much, " Ryan replied.

He followed Cole outside and stood by him on the boardwalk while Cole

ordered the crowd to back away so the funeral cart could be pulled

closer. The body collector, a moonfaced man with hunched shoulders,

stepped forward. Cole told him that he wanted the bodies covered with

sheets before they were carried out.

The reporter for the Rockford Falls newspaper objected to the order.

"We want to see them, " he shouted. "Why do they have to be covered

with sheets? " Cole wanted to punch the ghoulish curiosity seeker.

With effort, he resisted the impulse and said, "They wouldn't want to

be remembered this way." The reporter wouldn't let up. "They're dead,

" he shouted. "How do you know what they want? " A woman in the crowd

started crying. Cole looked at Ryan, waiting for him to answer, but

the marshal ignored him and kept his gaze directed on the men and women

in the street.

"Yes, they're dead, " Cole shouted back. "And now the law becomes

their voice. Get the damned sheets." Ryan nodded his agreement. He

pulled the compass out of his pocket and handed it to Cole. "You just

became a lawman." at took over an hour to remove the six bodies.

Because of the heat, rigor mortis had set in rapidly, and the owner of

the funeral parlor had a hell of a time getting the two men who had

died on their knees wrapped up and carried out.

The men who were assisting him whispered while they worked. Cole

wasn't certain if they kept their voices low out of respect for the

dead or if they were just plain spooked, but one of them started

gagging and had to run outside when the funeral director worried out

loud that if the families wanted to bury the men that day, he would

have to either build two special coffins to accommodate the bent knees,

or cut off their legs. One day's delay would ensure that the

troublesome rigor mortis would have worn off. And if he sealed the

coffins tight, no one would notice the smell.

The floor near the center of the lobby where the bodies had knelt was

black. Blood had seeped into the dry wood, and it was there to stay.

Not even lye would remove the stains.

Ryan questioned Sloan for a while before he searched through the

president's office and behind the tellers' counter.

He collected the papers, put them in a box he'd found, and carried them

over to an old, ink-stained desk in front of the windows. While Cole

roamed around the bank, trying to figure out exactly how, why, and when

it all happened, Ryan sat on the edge of the desk and began to read.

Sloan stood by the door, fidgeting.

Ryan finally noticed him. "Is something bothering you, Sheriff? " he

asked, without looking up from the document he was scanning.

"I was thinking I ought to get another posse together and go looking

for the gang again. We had to disband last night when it got so

dark.

The trail's going to get cold if I wait much longer."

"That's a good idea, " Ryan said. "Why don't you take charge and see

to it."

"I figure I should pick the men I want to ride with me, like I did

yesterday before you got here." Ryan shrugged. "You know these people

better than I do. I don't want to hear you did anything stupid though,

like stringing someone up because you think he might have been

involved. If you catch anyone, you bring him back here."

"I can't control an entire posse. Folks know what happened here.

Someone mightţ" Ryan cut him off. "You will control them, Sheriff. "

Sloan nodded. "I'll try."

"That isn't good enough. No one takes the law into his own hands. You

got that? If any of your friends thinks otherwise, you shoot the son

of a bitch." Ryan expected Sloan to leave, but he stayed where he

was.

His face turned bright red, and he shuffled from foot to foot as he

stared down at the floor.

"Was there something else? " Ryan asked.

"It seems to me . . . and a lot of folks in town . . . that I ought

to be in charge of this investigation." Ryan cast Cole a quick glance

to see how he was reacting to the sheriff's claim.

"How do you figure that? " Ryan asked.

"I'm the sheriff in Rockford Falls, so this is my jurisdiction, not

yours. Like I said before, I ought to be in charge and you two should

be taking orders from me."

"You think you could do a better job? " "I maybe could."

"You can't even look at the stains on the floor, " Ryan said. "What

makes you think you canţ" "It's my jurisdiction, " Sloan stubbornly

insisted.

Ryan's patience was all used up. "Marshal Clayborne and I are here by

special appointment, and I don't particularly care if you've got a

problem with that or not. Stay out of our way, " he ordered harshly.

"Now, go get your posse together." Cole listened to the exchange

without saying a word. He waited until the sheriff left, then crossed

the lobby to the windows and opened one.

A clean, sweet breeze, tinged with the scent of pines, brushed over his

arms and neck. He took several deep breaths to rid himself of the

metallic smell of blood inside the bank, and then turned around and

leaned against the ledge.

He stared at Ryan's back. "It rained hard last night and most of this

morning, " he remarked.

"Yeah, I know. I got soaked."

"There isn't going to be a trail this afternoon. It's been washed

away." Ryan glanced over his shoulder.

"I know that too. I just wanted to get rid of Sloan." Cole folded his

arms across his chest and leaned back. "The men who did this are long

gone." Ryan nodded. "Wires were sent to every lawman in the territory

yesterday. By now all the main roads are being watched.

There are also men at the train stations and the river. The bastards

will still get through the net, though. They're slick, real slick. "

He let the paper he'd been reading drop down to the desk and turned

around to face Cole.

"You know what I used to be worried about? " "What's that? " Ryan's

voice lowered. "That they'd stop and I wouldn't be able to catch

them.

" Cole shook his head. "They aren't going to stop." Nodding toward

the bloodstains, he added in a whisper, "They're having too much fun.

" "Yeah, I think you're right. They've developed a real taste for

killing."

"How many banks have they robbed? " "This makes almost a dozen."

"They've gotten away twelve times? " "They're either very lucky or

very smart."

"Where and when was the first robbery? " "It happened late spring two

years ago. They robbed a bank in TexasţBlackwater, Texas, to be

exact.

That's how they got their name.

" "The Blackwater gang, " Cole said.

"Yes, " Ryan said. "Anyway, they went in during the night with

kerosene and burned the building to the ground when they left. No one

saw anything."

"Was anyone killed? " "No, " Ryan answered. "Then, two weeks later,

they hit another bank in Hollister, Oklahoma. Once again, they went in

during the night, but they didn't use kerosene."

"Did they tear up the place? " Ryan shook his head. "They were nice

and tidy. They didn't touch anything but the money, and they didn't

leave any evidence behind."

"How do you know the two robberies were related? " "Gut feeling

mostly, " Ryan said. "There were a couple of similarities.

As I said before, they went in during the night, and in both cases,

government money had just been deposited for the army salaries at the

nearby forts."

"Where was the third bank? " "Pelton, Kansas, " Ryan answered. "They

changed the way they did things with that robbery.

They went in at closing time, just like they did here. There were

seven people inside. Two were killed. The shooting started when one

of the employees went for his gun. He died gripping it in his hand,

but he didn't get a shot off."

"So you did have witnesses? " "Yes, but they weren't helpful. They

said the men wore masks and that only one did all the talking. They

said he had a southern drawl."

"How many men did they say came into the bank? " "Seven."