Mercer blushed a bright pink to the roots of what sparse hair he had left. Longarm had to swallow a laugh at the stricken look on the man’s face. Mercer obviously wasn’t accustomed to much female attention, especially from a female as lovely as Janice Cassidy.
As Janice led Mercer away, Padgett leaned over toward Longarm and asked in a half-whisper, “Do you think Leon will be safe?”
“I don’t reckon Miss Janice will get too frisky in broad daylight, in the middle of downtown El Paso.”
But at the same time, given the lady’s history, he couldn’t completely count on that.
Within a quarter of an hour, the racehorses had all been saddled and their jockeys were aboard for the ride out to the track. The horses were trailed by buggies carrying their owners, trainers, and assorted hangers-on. Longarm supposed he would fall into that last category. They made quite a procession as they followed the road that ran roughly parallel to the border river. On the other side of the river were the shanties of Juarez town, and behind them rose hills and mountains that were in Mexico. The caravan of racehorses and buggies headed northwest, toward the corner where Texas, New Mexico, and Mexico all butted up against each other. The big racetrack was located on the outskirts of El Paso, still in Texas, just across the borders from its neighbors.
Longarm rode in the buggy’s rear seat, while Senator Padgett shared the front seat with Julie Cassidy. If Longarm hadn’t been here to work, he would have preferred being up there with Julie. As it was, he caught several glances she threw over her shoulder at him, and from the smoldering looks she gave him, he knew they were both thinking about the same thing.
Not that cavorting with the beautiful Miss Cassidy was the only thing on his mind. He hadn’t forgotten about the attempt on his life the night before. The ache in his hands, arms, and shoulders wouldn’t let him forget.
The only thing he could be sure of was that whoever had tried to kill him wasn’t the same fella who had taken those shots at Senator Padgett back in Albuquerque. His primary suspect was Cy, or perhaps one of the other jockeys who had come out on the short end—so to speak—of that fight. But Padgett had been unaccounted for at the same time, and that fact gnawed at Longarm’s brain. Padgett had understood that he was supposed to remain in the compartment. He must have had a compelling reason to ignore what Longarm had told him. Needing to pay a visit to the facilities could be pretty compelling, all right.
But so was murder.
Longarm was still puzzling over it when the racetrack came into view. The track itself was the same size as the one in Albuquerque, but the grandstands were larger and more impressive. Longarm estimated that they might hold twice as many people as the stands at the other track. That could make it more difficult for him to keep up with everybody he wanted to watch, but he would just have to make the best of it. At this point, there was nobody he trusted enough to bring in on the job with him.
For the next hour, Longarm tagged along behind Padgett as the senator oversaw Caesar going through a brief exercise run, then being settled in one of the stalls in the paddock. Cy avoided meeting Longarm’s eyes anytime the jockey was around him. By the time Padgett was satisfied that everything had been taken care of properly, Longarm’s stomach was growling. He was still waiting for that coffee, bacon, and flapjacks. He hoped the hotel dining room would still be serving breakfast by the time they got there.
“Come along, Cy,” Padgett said to the jockey, motioning for him to follow along to the buggy. “You can ride with Marshal Long and me back to town.”
Cy stiffened and looked at Longarm, who lifted his shoulders in a little shrug. Padgett didn’t seem to have noticed the bruise on Cy’s jaw; if he had seen it, he had chosen not to say anything about it. “Sure,” Cy responded after a second’s hesitation. “Thanks, Senator.”
Longarm climbed into the front seat beside Padgett this time, and Cy settled himself in the back. The serape-and sombrero-clad driver picked up the reins and got the buggy’s two-horse team moving. The trip back to downtown El Paso did not take as long as the one out to the racetrack.
“What about Miss Cassidy?” asked Longarm as they rolled toward the center of the sprawling border settlement. “Won’t she need a ride back to town too?”
“Julie won’t have any trouble getting to the hotel. But she’ll be at the track most of the day. She really hates to leave that horse. I think she cares more about Matador than anyone else.”
“What about her sister?”
“All Janice cares about is winning. Oh, I see what you mean. You’re asking if Julie cares more about her sister than she does about Matador. Well, of course. The Cassidy sisters are devoted to each other. They’re close, very close.” Padgett chuckled, and a hint of a leer appeared on his face as he said conspiratorially, “In fact, some of the stories I’ve heard about those two-“
“Are probably just cheap gossip,” Longarm finished for him before Padgett could go on.
Padgett glanced at him, clearly puzzled by Longarm’s reaction and unsure whether or not he should be offended by the lawman’s tone. Evidently he decided it wasn’t worth it, because he merely grunted and leaned back against the buggy seat.
Longarm was a mite puzzled by the sharp words that had come from his mouth too. Julie and Janice didn’t need him to defend them. They were both outspoken enough to take up for themselves if the need arose. Besides, given the lusty nature of both young women, there might well be some truth to what Padgett had implied.
But it had just sounded so damned sordid coming from the senator, Longarm decided. That was why he’d reacted as he had.
The incident seemed to be forgotten by the time the buggy reached the Camino Real Hotel a few minutes later. The place had the best accommodations in town, which came as no surprise to Longarm. Someone like Miles Padgett would stay in only the best hotels. The Cassidy sisters and the other horse owners were staying there as well. Longarm hoped there would be room for him too. If not, he would simply have to make room.
But it was a good thing that Uncle Sam would ultimately wind up paying for this, Longarm thought with a grin as he followed Padgett into the fancy lobby. He could never afford to stay in a place like this on a deputy marshal’s wages.
Leon Mercer was waiting for them inside, and explained that he and the senator had adjoining rooms on the second floor. “I got you the room across the hall, Marshal, he said to Longarm. “That was the best I could do.”
“Not quite,” said Longarm. “You’ll take the room across the hall, and I’ll bunk in the one next to the senator.”
“Impossible. I have to be on hand to assist Senator Padgett-“
“It’s all right, Leon,” Padgett told him. “You’ll be right across the hall if I need you.”
Mercer sniffed. “Well, I don’t like it, but I suppose the arrangement will have to do.”
“How was your ride with Miss Janice?” asked Longarm, unable to resist needling the stuffy assistant a bit.
Another flush spread across Mercer’s features. “Miss Cassidy is quite … quite a lovely young lady.”
“She sure is,” agreed Longarm. He was willing to bet that Janice had flirted with Mercer every foot of the way and had enjoyed every minute of it.
Longarm’s war bag and repeater had already been taken up to the room. He checked on them, moved the bag and rifle across the hall to the room adjoining Senator Padgett’s, then carried Mercer’s bags over to the other room. Mercer watched with poorly concealed resentment. He had to feel as if Longarm was poaching on his territory, namely the senator. Mercer would just have to get over it, though. This assignment of Longarm’s wouldn’t last forever, only until he found out what he needed to know.
The hotel dining room was indeed still serving breakfast. Longarm sat down with Padgett and Mercer and proceeded to put himself on the outside of everything he had thought about earlier, plus a small army of fried potatoes. Just as he had expected, he felt like a new man when the meal was finished—a well-stuffed, drowsy man.