Rainey was quaking like an aspen. He sank down on the cell’s hard bunk and drew his legs up beside him, curling himself into a ball. He seemed to relax a little then, as if the knowledge that he was locked in a cell made him feel better instead of worse. Rainey might be locked away from everything, Longarm thought—but everything was also locked away from Rainey.
Thorp came into the cell block. “Well, what about it?” he said harshly. “For God’s sake, tell me what you saw out there!”
“I’m getting a mite tired of your tone of voice, mister,” Longarm said. “Hell, we haven’t even been introduced yet, and you’re already full of questions.”
Thorp’s eyes widened as if no one ever talked to him that way, and Burley stepped smoothly between him and Longarm. “This is Mr. Benjamin Thorp, Marshal,” the local star-packer said, “owner of the Bank of Cottonwood Springs and the Rocking T ranch.”
“And the richest man in town,” Longarm guessed.
“I don’t give a damn about money right now,” Thorp said. “I just want my wife back. Did you see her or not?”
“I didn’t see anything,” Longarm said, “but I wish one of you fellas would tell me what this is all about.”
Thorp opened his mouth to speak again, but Burley stopped him by saying, “Come back out into the office with me, Marshal Long, and I’ll explain the whole thing. Maybe you can suggest something I haven’t thought of.”
Longarm couldn’t tell about that until he knew what was going on. He followed Burley from the cell block into the office, and Benjamin Thorp brought up the rear.
Burley went behind an old desk with a scarred wooden top and gestured toward a chair in front of the desk. The chair was padded with black leather. Longarm sat down, propped his right ankle on his left knee, and took off his hat, dropping it on the floor beside him. Burley settled himself on a chair behind the desk, and since the seat was out of sight, Longarm wondered idly if the local lawman had boosted it with a couple of books or something. Burley seemed taller sitting down. Another of the padded chairs like the one Longarm was sitting in was against the wall of the small room, but Thorp didn’t take it. Instead he started pacing back and forth.
Burley said, “I’d tell you to take it easy, Mr. Thorp, but I know it wouldn’t do any good.”
“Damned right it wouldn’t,” growled Thorp. “I’m not going to relax until my wife is back with me, safe and sound! Hell, how can you expect a man to take it easy when the women he loves has been dragged off by some unholy monster!”
Burley held up a hand. “You go right ahead and pace,” he said, “while I tell Marshal Long what happened.”
Longarm took that cheroot from his pocket again. “Reckon I can guess some of it,” he said as he struck a match with a flick of his iron-hard thumbnail. “Mrs. Thorp is missing, and for some reason you folks think she was carried off by a critter called the Brazos Devil.”
“I thought you said you hadn’t seen it,” Thorp snapped.
“I haven’t.”
“Then how did you know-“
“I’ve got eyes and ears,” Longarm said patiently. “And ever since Rainey and I rode into Cottonwood Springs a little while ago, folks have been acting pretty worked up about something. I just listened and put it all together.”
Burley leaned back in his chair and asked, “Had you ever heard of the Brazos Devil before today, Marshal?”
Longarm took a puff on the cheroot and shook his head. “Nope. But I’ve heard other local legends that I’d be willing to bet are similar. This here Brazos Devil—he’s some sort of hairy half-man, half-monster, right?”
That’s what the people who have seen him say,” Burley admitted. “They claim he’s about seven feet tall and covered with fur.”
“Anybody ever stop to think that maybe it’s a bear?” asked Longarm as he remembered those prints he had seen in the soft dirt. He didn’t want to mention them just yet.
“Well, in the first place, there aren’t any bears in these parts. There probably aren’t any bears in Texas this side of the Big Bend. And for another thing, people have seen it run, and it doesn’t run like a bear. It runs like a man.”
“Folks have seen it close up, have they?” Longarm was still skeptical, but he was curious enough about this matter to forgo that hot meal and bath and hotel room for a while.
“Not too close,” Burley said with a shrug. “But close enough to tell that it wasn’t like anything they’d ever seen before.” He sighed and added grimly, “I’m afraid the only ones who have gotten a really good look at the Brazos Devil can’t tell us anything about it.”
“Too afraid?” Longarm asked, thinking about Rainey’s reaction and the stunned silence that had gripped the outlaw for most of the afternoon.
“Too dead,” Burley said.
“Damn it, Mal!” Thorp burst out miserably. “You know that thing’s got Emmaline!”
Burley grimaced and leaned forward. “Sorry, Mr. Thorp. I guess I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to upset you even more.”
Longarm had a feeling Thorp, as the town’s leading citizen, must have installed Burley in the marshal’s job, either directly or through his influence. But Longarm didn’t depend on the banker and rancher for his livelihood, so he said bluntly, “You’re saying this Brazos Devil has killed folks?”
“Four that we know of, including Matt Hardcastle, Mr. Thorp’s foreman. Matt was killed when the thing ran off with Mrs. Thorp.”
Longarm blew out another cloud of blue smoke. “Back up a mite and tell me about that.”
“I don’t know,” Burley said. “Maybe Mr. Thorp…”
Thorp took off his hat, ran a hand over his thinning hair, then breathed deeply and put a look of resolve on his face. “It hurts to talk about it,” he said, “but if there’s a chance you might be able to help us, Marshal Long, I suppose I can bring myself to do it.”
“I can’t promise anything,” Longarm said mildly, “but I’m willing to listen.”
“All right. About three weeks ago, my wife went out for a ride on our ranch. It’s her habit to go riding several times a week.”
“Horseback riding, you mean? Not in a buggy?” Longarm interrupted to ask.
Thorp nodded. “That’s right. Emmaline is very fond of it and is actually a good horsewoman. She grew up in Louisiana, and she never got a chance to ride horses when she was a child. I go with her whenever I can, but my business keeps me either at the ranch house or here in town most of the time.”
“So you sent your foreman, this fella Hardcastle, with her whenever you couldn’t go,” Longarm ventured.
“Yes. Especially after what happened to the Lavery boys.”
Longarm looked at Burley, and the marshal said, “Howard Lavery’s three sons. The Lavery’s have a little spread southwest of here, and the boys were found dead on the road about six weeks ago.”
“Killed?” Longarm asked.
Burley nodded, his narrow features bleak. “Torn all to pieces, in fact. It like to’ve turned my stomach. Something ripped those fellas apart with its bare hands. There hasn’t been too much traffic on the road since then.”
Thorp shuddered and lifted a hand, covering his face for a moment. He took a deep breath and went on. “After that, I tried to persuade Emmaline that her horseback rides weren’t a good idea, but she wouldn’t hear of giving them up.” He gave a little shrug. “You don’t know Emmaline, Marshal, but there’s no arguing with her when she gets something in her head. She insisted she was perfectly safe as long as Matt or I was with her.”
“But she wasn’t,” Longarm said heavily.
Thorp clearly had to force himself to go on. “Matt’s horse came back alone to the ranch. There … there was blood on the saddle. The men sent word to me in town immediately, and also started a search party on the horse’s back-trail. By the time I got to the ranch and caught up with them, they … they had found Matt’s … body.”