Chapter 10 – The Longest Day

Bart lit another cigar and blew smoke out into the alley behind the store. It was almost ten-fifteen when he saw her, and there was no mistaking that this was the woman he'd been waiting for. Tall and slender, with long brunette curls and a hip swaying walk, she approached from the east. He watched her walk a long way and understood how a man could enjoy spending time with her. Especially a man that women had been drawn to his entire life.

"Mr. Maverick?" she asked when she got close enough to be heard.

"Where's my brother?" His voice was flat, cold, emotionless. That was the best he could manage right now.

"Someplace where you won't find him."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

"We aren't wealthy. We breed horses for a living."

"And play poker, and own a saloon. You have money."

"I see you and Bret became acquainted. "

"He's a nice man. Easy to talk to." Bart watched her carefully. She was eighteen, nineteen at the most; the kind of flower that bloomed early and faded fast. Still, there was something soft and tender about her, something that might bring out a new daddy's protective nature.

"Is that why your boyfriend threatened to kill him?"

That question seemed to throw her. "He won't do that. All you have to do is pay and he won't do that."

Bart sighed. "All I have to do is pay. I wish it was that easy."

Smokey brightened. "But it is. You pay us, you get your brother back. You go home, we disappear."

"Really? Is that what you think?"

The girl nodded. "Sure, what else is there?"

"You left out the part where I turn over the money and your boyfriend kills us."

"No. He wouldn't do that. Once we've got the money, we're gone."

"You think so?" Bart was playing a dangerous game with this girl, hoping to gain any advantage possible. "You're just gonna go off and ride away, and leave two witnesses alive and well?"

"Well, I . . . no, you ain't gonna confuse me like that. I just came here to tell you where to bring the money. And when. And give you this." She reached out to hand him something. It was the bandage that had been on Bret's wrist. It was dirty and had small streaks of blood on it.

He took the wrapping and shoved it in his pocket. He couldn't risk his brother's life, and he knew it. He had to get Bret back, no matter the cost. He waited for Smokey's instructions.

"Meet me behind the Alhambra Saloon tonight at five o'clock. Bring the money, and I'll be there to take you to your brother. If you try anything, or the marshal shows up, he dies." She waited just a minute before she continued. "I'm serious. There won't be no second chance. You try to double-cross us . . . "

"I understand. I'll be there."

She turned then and walked away, headed back east, and he watched her go. That left him with nowhere to go but Jefferson Abbott's office, to see if the marshal had learned anything.

XXXXXXXX

Abbott looked at the piece of dirty, wadded-up bandage that Bart Maverick had just dropped on his desk and asked, "What's this?"

"The bandage that was on my brother's shattered left wrist," was the reply Bart gave. "I hope you got somethin' for us to go on, because they expect a whole lotta money at five o'clock."

The marshal pulled a Wanted Poster from the stack he was rummaging through. "Take a look at this," he urged Bart as he handed it to the gambler. It was a drawing of Max Riley, with the wording 'WANTED FOR ARMED ROBBERY, STAGE COACH HOLDUP AND MULTIPLE MURDERS. REWARD $5,000.00' printed above and below the drawing. "There ain't no honor among thieves, I'll tell you that," Abbott told Bart. "Riley pissed off three or four of the boys out at the ranch, and they were all too eager to tell me about him, long as I left them alone. I owe 'em one."

Bart whistled. "Guess he's not such an amateur after all."

"What about you?"

"I'm supposed to meet Smokey behind the Alhambra at five o'clock, with the money. Then she's to take me to Bret."

"You know she means . . . "

"Yeah, I know," Bart interrupted. "I don't think she's willing to accept that Max don't intend to leave any livin', breathin' witnesses around. I tried to open her eyes but she wasn't havin' any of it. She's got some fairy tale in her head that I'm gonna hand over the money and they're just gonna ride off into the sunset. I doubt if she knows about your poster."

"She's got a room at Mrs. Caldwell's."

Bart nodded. "I know. She ain't been there since yesterday mornin'. Mrs. Caldwell's got no idea where she could be."

"Then let's go back to the Palace. Eddie Monroe at the front desk is crazy about her. Maybe she let somethin' slip to him."

"I'll meet you there. Just in case I'm bein' watched."

XXXXXXXX

"You been awful quiet since you come back from meetin' the other Maverick."

Smokey sat in the old rocking chair by the front door with her hands folded in her lap. It was one of the few pieces of furniture still in one piece, inside what used to be somebody's home. She'd been meeting Max out here in the old place ever since they started seeing each other. The only other person that knew about the abandoned cabin was her friend Eddie. She glanced over at Bret, who'd finally fallen asleep tied to another chair, and wondered if Max would answer her questions.

"Bart," she answered. "His name is Bart."

Max grunted, and Smokey decided to take a chance. "Max, honey, what are we gonna do when we get the money from Bart?"

"What?"

"What are we gonna do when we get the money?"

Max laughed. "We're gonna do just what we was always gonna do . . . go to San Francisco and live the good life."

"No, I mean with the Mavericks?"

"Well, we sure ain't gonna take 'em with us."

"Are you gonna . . . kill 'em?" There was a note of fear in her voice.

'Damnit, what had that Bart been tellin' her?' Max wondered. She hadn't asked anything like that before. "No, honey, why would you think that? We'll just leave 'em tied up and ride on outta here. By the time anybody finds 'em we'll be long gone."

"Really? You ain't gonna kill 'em?"

He strolled over to the rocking chair and bent down to kiss her. "No, Smokey, I ain't gonna kill 'em." She smiled up at him. "I promise."

"Good," she nodded. "Good."

Bret kept his eyes closed; let them think him asleep. There was no doubt in his mind that he and Bart would be left 'tied up' for others to find – tied up and dead. He'd gotten the impression during the time he'd spent with Smokey that she was a bright girl – but nobody with half a brain would believe Max's lies about leaving the Mavericks alive. All he could hope was that Brother Bart had something planned for the ransom exchange – something that involved their escape rather than their demise.

Why, oh why, had he not seen this coming? The lovely young girl interested in the older man, hanging on his every word and making him feel alive again? Stroking his ego when he felt useless, building his sense of self-worth back to where he was important to someone, even if it wasn't the right someone. It was classic, and he'd watched the pretty little things manipulate men his entire life – he just never believed it could be done to him.

'Oh, Ginny honey, I'm so sorry, I'll never be able to tell you how dumb I feel. I walked right on into their little trap, and now it could cost me my life . . . and maybe even Bart's. I hope I live long enough to tell you what a fool I've been, and to try and make this up to you, but if I don't . . . I hope you know how much I love you.'