“He was torn up just like the Lavery boys,” Burley put in. “But there was no sign of Mrs. Thorp or her horse, so it could be she got away from whatever attacked Hardcastle.”
“That was three weeks ago, Mal!” exclaimed Thorp. “If Emmaline was all right, why hasn’t she come home by now?”
“Maybe what she saw scared her so bad she hasn’t stopped running yet,” Longarm suggested. “I’ve heard of folks who had such a shock that they clean forgot who they were.”
Thorp frowned and said, “That’s mighty unlikely, don’t you think, Deputy?”
No more so than jumping to the conclusion that Emmaline Thorp had been dragged off by a monster, Longarm thought, but he kept that to himself and merely shrugged. He said, “I don’t know the lady. You tell me, Mr. Thorp.”
Thorp shook his head decisively. “No, that wouldn’t happen. Emmaline is too levelheaded to completely lose her wits just because she was frightened. The only reason she wouldn’t come back to the ranch house is if she couldn’t.”
Before the discussion could continue, the office door opened and a heavyset man carrying a black medical bag came in. He had jowls like a bulldog and was wide across the shoulders, but his hands were surprisingly small, almost delicate. He nodded to Thorp and Longarm, then said to Burley, “I hear you’ve got a patient for me, Mal.”
“I’ll take you back to him, Doc,” Burley said as he stood up and reached for the key ring.
“The fella’s got a bullet crease on his right hip,” Longarm offered. “It never bled much, so I don’t figure it amounts to anything.
Doc Carson nodded. “Doubtless you’re correct, sir, but the wound should still be examined and cleaned.”
Burley opened the heavy door and took the physician into the cell block. Longarm smoked in silence and Thorp paced until Burley returned, leaving the cellblock door open this time.
As the local lawman settled himself behind the desk again, Longarm asked, “Did Mrs. Thorp’s horse leave any tracks you could follow?”
“Matt’s body was found on a rocky outcropping over the river,” Thorp said. “The ground was too hard to take tracks.”
“What about in the rest of the area? Any hoofprints or … anything else?”
If Thorp or Burley noticed the slight pause, neither man gave any sign of it. Burley shook his head and said, “There had been too many riders milling around there, what with the search party and everything. There weren’t any tracks that meant anything.”
“Where’d this happen?”
“Like I said, it was on one of the bluffs overlooking the river on my ranch,” replied Thorp. “My spread runs from the Fort Griffin road north for about fifteen miles along the east side of the Brazos.”
Longarm considered that for a moment as he smoked. “That means Rainey and I were on your land when we came across the river today.”
“That’s right, but I don’t worry about people crossing my spread. The northern boundary and part of the eastern boundary are fenced to keep my stock from wandering too much, but otherwise it’s all open range. The river forms a natural barrier to the west.”
“Then the place where Hardcastle’s body was found probably wasn’t very far from where Rainey and I came across.”
“Describe the spot to me,” Thorp suggested. Longarm did so, and the rancher nodded. “That’s about two miles north of where Matt’s body was found,” he said. His features were taut with repressed anger and anxiety as he went on. “I’ve been patient, Long. That outlaw you brought in obviously saw something out there. Don’t you think under the circumstances you ought to tell us about it?”
The man had a point, Longarm had to give him that. Quickly, he told Thorp and Burley about the incident beside the river, even describing the mysterious footprints this time. Thorp became even more agitated and excited as Longarm talked, and Burley leaned forward eagerly.
“Rainey had to have seen the Brazos Devil!” Thorp said when Longarm was finished. “That’s the only explanation that makes any sense!”
“And those tracks you saw sound like the same ones we found around the bodies of the Lavery boys,” Burley put in. “It must’ve been the creature.”
“Hold on a minute,” Longarm said with a stubborn frown. “I don’t know if I’m willing to just assume such a critter even exists.”
“How can you doubt it?” demanded Thorp. “Look at all the evidence!”
“That’s what I’m trying to do-“
Longarm was saved from further arguing by the reappearance of the doctor. Carson was closing his bag as he came out of the cell block. “You were right, sir,” he said to Longarm. “The wound on the patient’s hip is superficial. He’ll be bruised and sore for a few days, but there won’t be any lasting effects.” Carson hesitated, then added, “I’m more concerned about the man’s, ah, mental state.”
“He hasn’t calmed down any?” Longarm asked.
“He’s well nigh catatonic. That means-“
“I know what it means,” Longarm said. “He’s so shaken up about something that he’s pulled back into himself and ain’t letting anybody else in.”
“Exactly,” agreed the physician.
“What are the chances of making him talk, Doc?” asked Thorp.
Carson shook his head. “Hard to say. Cases like this where the patient has suffered a great shock are almost impossible to predict.”
“He seemed to be coming around earlier,” Longarm said, until he got reminded again of what happened out there.”
“Then that’s a good sign. With time, he may make a full recovery.” Carson shrugged. “Or maybe not.”
Thorp took a step toward the cellblock door. “Well, he’ll just have to come out of it, because I’ve got to talk to him!”
Carson put a hand out to stop him. “Sorry, Mr. Thorp, but it won’t do you any good to browbeat the man, especially now. I gave him a sedative since he seemed so disturbed. He’s sound asleep by now.”
“Damn it, Carson!” Thorp burst out. “You didn’t have the right-“
“The man is my patient. I had the right to make a medical judgment, and I did so.”
Longarm also wished the doctor hadn’t knocked Rainey out, but it was too late now to do anything about it. He said, “There’s no sense in getting upset, Thorp. Rainey’ll wake up sooner or later, and you and the marshal can talk to him then.”
“Yes, and in the meantime that monster has even more time to put my wife through the tortures of hell!”
“We don’t know that Mrs. Thorp is in any danger,” Burley said. “Maybe the Devil’s just sort of … holding her prisoner.”
The withering look Thorp gave Burley made it clear just how likely the rancher considered that possibility.
As for Longarm, he wondered why the creature—assuming that the Brazos Devil even existed, and that was a mighty big assumption—would carry off a woman when its other encounters with men had proven fatal. There was only one reason Longarm could think of, and it was a horrifying prospect that had no doubt occurred to Thorp, Burley, and everybody else in Cottonwood Springs. Maybe the monster had wanted a mate.
Longarm put that image out of his mind with a little shake of his head. He still had his own job to tend to, and something else had occurred to him. He said, “Mr. Thorp, you reckon I could use the safe in your bank to lock up some valuables overnight?”
“Of course,” Thorp replied with a wave of his hand, obviously distracted and a bit put out by the question.
Longarm put his hand inside his coat. “Unless, that is, one of you gents happens to know who these baubles belong to so that I can get ‘em back to their rightful owner?” He took out the necklace and bracelet he had found in Rainey’s saddlebag.
He should have figured it out sooner, he realized immediately. But all it took was the strangled sound Thorp made, the widening of the man’s eyes, and the heartfelt curse that came from Burley’s lips. “Where did you get those?” the marshal asked hoarsely.