“Maybe,” Longarm said. “Maybe.”
Chapter 12
The next morning Longarm had ridden less than a mile out of Cortez when he saw a young woman and two old cowboys coming into view. The woman was riding a spunky sorrel mare, while the two hands were seated in a rickety buckboard wagon. She had long blond hair and blue eyes, and hid her figure well with an old leather jacket that was about three sizes too large. Longarm wondered if he’d just gotten lucky.
“Miss Mason?” he asked when he drew up alongside the woman and her buckboard. “Miss Candice Mason?”
“That’s right,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously, “and who the hell are you?”
“I’m a friend,” Longarm said, not wanting to let the two older cowboys know that he was a lawman.
“No, you’re not. You’re a stranger and you are blocking the road. Get out of our way.” One of her cowboys reached for a buggy whip, but Longarm said, “All right, Miss Mason, I work for United States Marshal Billy Vail, who sent me here to see if I could help sort out your troubles. I was just coming out to see you.”
Candice studied him closely. “Have you got a badge or anything to prove what you say?”
“Sure,” Longarm said, reaching inside his coat pocket, “but I’m traveling as a tourist and I’d like to keep my real identity a secret.”
“We can do that,” the driver of the buckboard said. “No problem.”
“Good.” Longarm showed them all his badge. “Now, Miss Mason, I’d appreciate it if we could have a private conversation.”
“Anything you have to say to me you can say to my men,” Candice told him. “I trust them with my life.”
“All right. I take it that you are going into Cortez, probably for supplies?”
“That’s correct.”
“Then I’ll ride along with you,” Longarm decided. “We have plenty to talk about.”
“Fine,” Candice told him. “I just wish that Billy would have sent two or three lawmen instead of one.”
“If I need help,” Longarm told her, “I can always send for reinforcements.”
“It took you a damn long time to get here,” Candice argued, “so what makes you think that reinforcements could save your bacon if you get in a fix?”
“Let that be my worry,” Longarm replied as he reined in next to the woman. “Why don’t you tell me everything that you know about this gang of grave robbers.”
Candice was quiet for a moment as she composed her thoughts. In the meantime, Longarm couldn’t help but stare because she really was a beautiful woman, although there was a hardness in her he found disturbing. Maybe it came from losing both her mother and father and from the heavy ranching responsibilities she had inherited. But whatever the reason, it was definitely present. “Lawman, what’s your name?”
“Custis.”
“Well, Custis,” Candice began, “what we have going on in this part of the state is a sophisticated bunch of grave robbers. We’re not dealing with just a couple of fellas with picks and shovels out to make a few extra bucks. No, sir! We have thievery on a grand scale.”
“I’ve been asking a lot of questions since I left Denver,” Longarm said, “and I know about those scientists up at Mesa Verde. Do you believe they are part of the gang?”
“Sure! They’re the ones that are doing the actual looting under the guise of science. But they aren’t real archaeologists.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just know,” Candice said. “And I’ve spied on them enough to learn that they are sending most of their stolen artifacts back to Durango on the pack animals that drop off their supplies.”
“Do those pack animals belong to an outfit called Mountain Packers?”
Candice actually smiled. “So, you have been asking some questions! And guess who owns Mountain Packers.”
“Mr. Laird?”
“Bravo!” Candice exclaimed. “But I am sure Laird has a partner in Durango. Someone who packs and routes the stolen artifacts to an international market.”
“What makes you think that?”
“It only makes sense that Laird would have a partner,” Candice said, shrugging her shoulders. “Of course, he buys and sells artifacts through his museum, but not nearly enough to make it profitable for an organized gang of thieves.”
“Have you ever followed Laird to Durango just to see who he might be dealing with?”
“No,” Candice said, “I’m much too busy trying to raise cattle and keep my ranch going. But I don’t think it would be hard for a man like yourself to do that.”
“This is all just conjecture, of course,” Longarm said. “We need some proof that the two scientists are fakes and that Laird is the go-between for a gang transporting and selling the treasures.”
“Why don’t you telegraph someone back East and have them check up on Barker and Lucking? I’m sure that Harvard has never heard of either man.”
“As a matter of fact,” Longarm said, “I sent a telegram off just before I left Cortez asking Billy Vail to do that very thing.”
“How is he?”
“Billy is fine. He sends his regards.”
“I never knew him very well, but my parents said that he once helped them out of some kind of bad fix.”
“Billy was a fine lawman during the years he was in the field,” Longarm told her. “It’s a shame that he settled for a desk job, but he seems happy and has a nice family.”
“Yeah,” Candice said, “I guess the life you lead wouldn’t be very good for a marriage or family, huh?”
“That’s right,” Longarm agreed. “It wouldn’t.”
She studied him with such frankness that Longarm felt a little uncomfortable. “Maybe you should find a new line of work, Custis.”
“Such as?”
“Do you know anything about cowboying or cattle ranching?”
“Nope. The only thing I know about cattle is that they taste good when they’ve been cut up and cooked medium rare.”
Candice laughed. “At least you are honest. But you’re still young enough to learn ranching.”
Longarm decided that the conversation was getting way out of hand. “I’m married,” he lied. “My wife is waiting for me at the Concord Hotel. A fella named Matt Horn is taking us up to Mesa Verde tomorrow.”
“You brought your wife?”
Candice looked appalled. Longarm tried to ignore that, and added, “Miranda is very interested in Anasazi artifacts, and she has always wanted to see the cliff dwellings.”
“That may be,” Candice said, “but it seems a little foolish to me to have her around when you are trying to find a gang of thieves who are probably also killers. I’d have thought that a man with your obvious experience would have known better than to bring along his wife.”
“Look,” Longarm said, “why don’t we just pretend that we don’t even know each other. I’ll ride on ahead and you and your buckboard can come in later. Tomorrow, I’ll let Mr. Horn take my wife and me up to Mesa Verde and I’ll do my best to find out what is really going on there.”
“That’s fine with me,” Candice said, “just as long as we agree that you’ll keep me posted on what you find and what you intend to do about it.”
“I’ll keep you posted,” he promised.
“All right, but I ought to warn you that this gang isn’t stupid. If you start asking questions, they’re bound to become suspicious, and then they’ll put a bullet through your brisket.”
Longarm tipped his hat to the ranch woman. “Thanks for the warning,” he said a moment before he set his horse into an easy lope heading back to Cortez.
He had unsaddled his horse and was headed for the hotel when Candice and her two old cowpunchers arrived in town. Longarm guessed he was the only man in Cortez who did not stare at the attractive young woman. Even wearing an old leather coat and with most of her blond hair bunched up under a soiled Stetson, Candice was a beauty. She had long legs, and rode her horse as if she had been born in the saddle.