“I’m sorry,” Longarm said. “I liked Noah. All I can do is protect you and then find out who really murdered him.”
“Maybe it was his father.” Tears streamed down Stella’s cheeks. “Or his evil brother or someone in politics or … I don’t know!”
Longarm didn’t know either. But he vowed to find out. Now, however, he heard the mob coming back down the street. And this time, they were coming for Stella.
Longarm jumped up and hurried over to the rifle rack. He grabbed a double-barreled shotgun that was already loaded. He jammed a fistful of shells into his pockets and checked his side arm.
“Why don’t you let us out to help you fight!” Jack screamed. “You can’t stand them all off! They’ll do the same to you as they did to that old marshal! Let us out!”
“Not a chance!” Longarm grated.
Stella pushed herself up and staggered across the office, still holding the bloody bandage to her neck. She went to the rifle rack and pulled out the other shotgun, then loaded it as if she did so every day.
“What are you doing!” Longarm shouted. “Get back on that bunk!”
“No. If we’re going to die, we’ll die together, Custis. I’m not taking this lying down!”
Stella’s lovely face was very pale and she was unsteady on her feet. Longarm could see that Stella wasn’t going to back down from anyone or anything. Blood was trickling down her neck to stain her dress, but she didn’t care.
As Longarm took his position behind the door, he glanced over at Stella and felt very proud just to be her friend.
Chapter 9
“Marshal Long, open up! It’s Lola!”
“Go away!” he shouted.
“I have food! Open up!”
Longarm could see another mob gathering in the street, and he was afraid that some drunken fool might mistake Lola for Stella and open fire, killing her at his doorstep. “All right,” he said, unbolting the door and opening it just enough for Lola to squeeze inside. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
But Lola wasn’t listening. Her eyes were on Stella. The two women studied each other for a long moment. Then Stella said, “Why did you risk your life coming here?”
“To be with Custis, of course.” Lola stared at the bloody bandanna that Stella was holding to her neck. “Have you been shot?”
“I thought that you were Pete’s friend,” Stella said, ignoring the question.
Lola shook her head, and then she turned and gave Longarm a brilliant smile. “This is the man I really want.”
Longarm stepped between them. “Stop it, the both of you,” he said roughly. “Lola, you’re the only one that doesn’t need to be here in case things get really ugly. I want you to leave.”
Lola shook her head, then motioned to the rifle rack. “I can shoot a pistol or rifle. Maybe you need my help.”
“No,” Longarm told her. “But if you really want to help, then you should go tell Marshal Walker and Dr. Davis what is happening. See if there is help on the way. Send another telegram. If we don’t get some help here pretty soon, I’m afraid that that lynch mob is going to just get drunk again and make another attempt to storm this jail.”
“I’ll go,” Lola said, starting for the door. “If necessary, I’ll send a telegram for help myself, although I do not know anyone to send it to.”
“There must be a judge and some lawmen closer to Auburn than Sacramento. See if you can find them! Tell them that we’re going to go down fighting before I’ll allow Stella or my last two prisoners to be lynched.”
“I’ll tell them,” Lola promised, setting another basketful of food on the desk and starting to leave. At the door, however, she stopped and turned. “Miss Vacarro, who really killed your fiance?”
“I don’t know.”
“They say it was your knife that was buried in his back. They say it was a double-edged stiletto.”
“That knife was stolen from me almost six months ago,” Stella said. “Maybe by the one who murdered poor Noah, maybe by someone who just happened to sell it in a pawnshop or saloon. I have no idea, but I did not—could not—ever murder the man I loved enough to marry.”
“Then you don’t love Marshal Long?”
Stella started to answer, but then changed her mind. “Why don’t we see if we live long enough to have a nice, long talk someday? All right?”
“All right,” Lola said with a nod before she slipped back outside.
When Longarm bolted the door again, Stella said, “You attract women like bees to honey, Custis. You always have.”
“Can we talk about something serious?” he asked shortly. “There’s a lynch mob starting to gather outside. It’s pretty tame right now, but I can tell you that it will get wilder and wilder as the afternoon wears on. And by nightfall, we’re going to have them howling in the street for your blood, my blood, and the blood of our two train robbers.”
“You got to let us defend ourselves!” Jack shouted from behind the bars. “Marshal Long, if they storm in here like they did last night, you and that woman sure ain’t gonna be able to stop them!”
“Maybe not, but I’ll go down trying.”
“That’s not good enough!” Jack screamed. “We need to arm ourselves!”
“Not a chance,” Longarm sternly told the prisoner. “We’re just going to sit tight and wait because I know that help is on the way.”
“And if it ain’t?”
“Then I’ll fight,” Longarm gritted out.
“No,” Stella corrected, “we’ll both fight.”
“Yeah,” Longarm said, not even wanting to think about the possibility of standing side by side with Stella against a blood-crazed lynch mob.
Two hours passed like two days, and then there was another loud pounding on the door.
“Maybe it’s the doctor or some help,” Longarm said, jumping up from his chair and drawing his six-gun. He walked up to the door and yelled, “Who is it!”
“Abe Huffington! Open up, Marshal Long!”
“Why?”
“My son and I want to talk things over!”
Stella said, “You can’t trust either of them, but what have we got to lose?”
“I agree,” Longarm said.
He turned to the door and shouted, “All right. Disarm yourselves and put your hands over your heads.”
A short argument between Abe and Nick Huffington took place, but the older man cut it short and then yelled, “All right! We’re not packing any hideout weapons. Open up this damned door!”
“Stella,” Longarm ordered, “keep your shotgun trained on them all the time.”
“Don’t worry about that,” she told him as she backed to the wall. “I know better than anyone that they’re as deadly as a pair of vipers.”
Longarm unbolted the door and eased it open. He saw a big, jowly man in a gray suit with a derby hat who was glaring hatefully at him. That would be Abe. Nick was shorter and leaner with a hard cut to his features. His eyes were bloodshot and he seemed to be having difficulty focusing.
“Come on in,” Longarm said, backing up. “And close the door behind you.”
Abe marched inside. He smelled heavily of cologne, but also of whiskey, and he wore full muttonchop whiskers and had an air of importance as well as impatience. His eyes raked over Longarm and then shot across the room to Stella.
“You!” Abe hissed. “I knew that you were poison! I warned Noah that no good would come of his association with a whore like you!”
“I didn’t kill him!” Stella shouted with the shotgun wavering in her fists. “I think you did!”
“What?” Abe took a menacing step toward Stella, but Longarm grabbed the older man by the arm. Nick started to jump at him, but Longarm whipped up his six-gun and growled, “You wouldn’t want to leave your father without any sons, now would you?”