“Any news about Cain?” Jim asked.
“Nothing,” Fargo said. “We’ll find out soon enough. Right now we have to find Daniel.”
“He was part of the bunch that robbed us and shot his father,” Walt said, his words showing his disgust and anger. “I couldn’t believe it, but he was. I had a clear shot at him and didn’t take it. Wish I had now.”
“I had a clear shot as well,” Fargo said. “Daniel may have had reasons for what he did, or maybe he was duped by Sarah Brant. We have to find him and find out. He’s in town somewhere. Or at least he was yesterday.”
“I’ve heard stories about that Brant woman,” Jim said as they reached the sidewalk and Fargo led them toward the center of town. “They say her mother left because of her.”
“I was warned to stay out of her clutches because she liked to cut off men’s privates,” Walt said, shuddering. “But everyone says she’s a looker.”
“I met her once,” Fargo said. “And I don’t doubt either story. And if Daniel was wrapped up in her charms, there’s no telling what he would have done for her. But right now we’ve got to find him.”
“Mind if I pound some sense into him if I find him?” Jim asked.
“Yes, I do mind,” Fargo said. “You find him, either of you, and you come and get me. My gut tells me this kid is in danger. We have to find him before they do, now that they think his father is dead.”
“I sure hope he’s not,” Walt said.
Fargo couldn’t do anything but agree with that. He wasn’t letting himself think about Cain dying.
When Fargo reached a general store close to the center of town, he told Walt to go south along Main, checking out every hotel and saloon. “Ask the desk clerks if Daniel Parker has checked in.”
Fargo sent Jim north doing the same thing.
“I’m going to check some of the brothels,” Fargo said.
“You get all the good jobs,” Walt said, smiling.
“Just had more experience in those places,” Fargo said. “We meet right back here in an hour. And remember, don’t let him see you if you can help it. Just come and find me. Don’t do anything to spook him.”
Both men nodded. Fargo left first. Before Walt and Jim separated, Walt said, “Not everybody’s gonna believe us.”
“Believe us about what?” Jim said.
“Working with Fargo. The Trailsman.”
Jim laughed. “You’re probably right. I met a newspaperman once—he told me he didn’t think that Fargo even existed.”
“I’ll bet some of it’s exaggerated, though,” Walt said.
“Some is. But not by Fargo. People just like to have heroes and they make up things about them.”
“One thing I heard was that he fought two black bears at a time.”
Jim laughed. “I’m pretty sure that didn’t happen.”
“Another thing I heard was that down in Louisiana he killed an alligator with his bare hands.”
“Now that one I know is true. Met a man who actually saw it.”
“But he ain’t—I mean, he could still be killed.”
“Sure he could. Just like us.”
“He’s prob’ly been up against tougher men than Brant before.”
“Tougher, maybe. But not any greedier.”
Walt nodded agreement and the men went on their separate ways.
After three times out and back, none of them had had any luck, so Fargo bought them all lavish steak-and-potato dinners. If Cain lived, he wouldn’t mind feeding the men who were trying to save his son. And if he didn’t live, he wouldn’t care that Fargo had spent his money.
In the three hours, Fargo had personally visited more than a dozen brothels, been propositioned by a dozen women, and been tossed out of one house by a madam who knew him from Denver. He had helped one of her girls get away from her to marry a grocer who was headed west. It seemed the madam still held a grudge and could handle a very large Colt.
Both Walt and Jim complained about their feet hurting and how they hadn’t realized just how big Sacramento had become. Fargo was surprised at that as well. He’d always thought of Sacramento as a bustling but fairly small city.
After dinner they headed back out.
Two hours later Fargo found Daniel sitting in the front parlor of a brothel. He was drunk, so drunk that he could hardly move. It was clear he had been flashing money around like he had more than enough of it. And Daniel’s money was like honey to the girls, who took turns sitting on his lap, kissing him, giving him more drinks, and relieving him of his money.
Fargo walked into the parlor and pushed one girl gently aside before yanking Daniel to his feet. “You’re coming with me, kid.”
“Hey,” protested the madam, a large woman with enormous breasts that seemed to want to escape from her low-cut sheer robe in a thousand different directions. “You can’t go taking my customers.”
“Yeah,” Daniel said, trying to pull away from Fargo’s grasp. “Who are you anyway?”
“I work for your father,” Fargo said, then solidly punched Daniel square in the nose, sending blood gushing and the kid slumping, out cold. More than likely he hit the kid a little harder than he needed to, but he was still damn angry at Daniel.
Fargo held Daniel up and fished for the kid’s money, tossing the entire wad of bills to the madam. “Sorry for the mess and the problem,” Fargo said. “The kid’s now broke.”
“Pleasure doing business with you,” the madam said as the bills vanished into the massive canyon that was her cleavage.
Fargo tossed Daniel up over his good shoulder and went out the door held open by one of the girls, ignoring the looks from passersby as he headed back to where he was to meet Jim and Walt.
He propped Daniel up on a bench and wiped some of the blood from his face while he waited. The kid was still out cold and likely would be until he slept off all the booze.
Fargo sat down beside the kid, watching everyone on the street. It had been a long day and the wounds in his shoulder were aching again. He could use a good night’s sleep as well.
When Walt and Jim finally arrived, Fargo had Walt carry Daniel back to the Mine Shaft Saloon. The hotel attached to the saloon was where they had stayed and left their gear, expecting to return tonight. They put Daniel on the floor in their room and tied him securely to the large metal-framed bed.
Fargo got his own room, then went back to see if the kid was awake yet. It was no surprise that he wasn’t.
“Take turns guarding him. And make sure he doesn’t get away. He’s got a lot of talking to do tomorrow. I’m in the room next door.”
For the second night, the moment Fargo lay down on the bed he was out like someone had snuffed a candle. The rays of the sun the next morning woke him.
This morning his shoulder felt a little better. He checked under one bandage and then pulled it off. The doc had stitched both wounds and they looked like they were healing just fine. He started to put on his shirt when he realized the heavy stitches would catch on the cloth. He quickly taped the bandage back on. Maybe a couple more days and he could again wear a shirt without it. Maybe.
The room next door sounded like a factory going full tilt. All three men were snoring like it was a competition to see who could be the loudest. And to be honest, Fargo couldn’t tell.
Walt was in the chair, his pistol on his lap. Jim was on the bed, and Daniel was still tied up on the floor.
Fargo moved silently just inside the door and then slammed it behind him.
Walt came out of the chair, sending his gun spinning across the floor.
Jim jerked and rolled off the bed on the window side, coming up a moment later with his gun in his hand.
Daniel jerked upward and then was slammed back against the floor by the ropes holding him.
Fargo forced himself not to smile. “Good morning. I hope everyone slept well. I know I did.”