"Any idea where you're headed?" Bart had been riding around for the last hour, more lost than anything, and Bret figured it was time to put a halt to the proceedings.
"What? Well, sort of." Actually, Bart knew exactly what he was looking for, he just couldn't find it. There were two or three old, rundown cabins out the way they'd come, and he had a feeling that one of them was serving as the gang's hideout.
"You lookin' for the cabins?"
"Huh?"
"You know, the ones we used to play in when we were kids."
"Yep, those are the ones."
"You figure that's where they are?"
Bart pulled his horse up for a moment and stared at his brother. "If they've been here for the last month, they been hidin' out somewhere. I figure those old cabins are as good a place as any."
Bret took a good look at his brother. Bart was pale and thin and looked like he hadn't slept in days. Had it only been twenty-four hours since Beauregard disappeared? It seemed like weeks. Bret was angry. How could someone, anyone, take a small boy and hold him for ransom? They had to find him and bring him home before things could get any worse. That meant they had to find the gang's hideout. Bart was probably right, the old cabins were as good a place to lay low as anywhere. Now, if they could just remember where the buildings were . . . his head swiveled in all directions, trying to find anything that looked familiar. Then something came to him that he hadn't thought of before. "Come on, Brother Bart, I got an idea." And without further ado he urged his horse southwest, with Bart scrambling to keep up with him.
XXXXXXXX
Davis headed back to the cabin, making sure that no one was following him. Kincaid wasn't going to be happy by the turn of events, but Rob didn't see that there was much he could do about it. He hid his horse and found Al and Danny outside smoking, Cindy attempting to cook supper, and the kid asleep again. Jess was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's the boss?" he asked Cindy's brother, who took a draw on his cigar and shrugged.
"Don't know. He left about thirty minutes ago and ain't been back since."
Rob headed back inside and stood behind Cindy, who was cooking what looked to be a chicken and some potatoes. "How much attention did you pay to the Maverick's?"
"What kind of attention?"
"Did you check to see if they really had money?"
She stirred the potatoes and looked towards Rob. "No, I didn't. How was I supposed to do that? Asked to see their bank account?"
"He don't own the saloon."
"What do you mean, he don't own the saloon? Of course he owns the saloon."
"No, his mother-in-law still owns it. He just runs the place."
"Are you sure?"
Davis nodded. "Yeah, I spent the afternoon drinkin' at Maude's. Listened to all the gossip and a couple of long-time bartenders. Then I played bounty hunter and talked to one of the deputies. Jess ain't gonna be happy."
Cindy knew what Kincaid could be like when he wasn't happy. "He was the one that said Maverick owned the saloon. He ain't got nobody to blame but himself."
"That ain't gonna make no difference."
A horse whinnied outside, and Rob recognized the sound. "It's Jess. Wonder what he's gonna do with the kid?"
A look of fear passed across Cindy's face. "You think he'd hurt Beauregard?"
"I don't know what he's liable to do, my dear. Almost anything, I would think."
It took a few minutes before Kincaid appeared in the doorway to the cabin. As soon as he spotted Davis, he headed right for his second-in-command. "What did you find out?" he queried.
"That Maverick don't own the saloon. His mother-in-law still owns it. Not only that . . . he's got a partner in buyin' the ranch. Most of the rumors that you heard about how well off he was were just that . . . rumors. He ain't got fifty-thousand dollars, Jess, and I don't think he's got any way to get it."
Just about that time, Beauregard woke up and rolled over. He was quiet at first, watching Cindy and her interaction with the two strangers he didn't know, but eventually he sat up in bed and paid attention to the conversation. "Daddy don't have lots of money. But Grandma got lots of money."
Kincaid had heard every word the little boy said, but asked the child to repeat it, anyway. "Daddy's got way less money than Grandma's got." The outlaw threw back his head and laughed, not at all what Rob or Cindy expected.
"What is it they say? Out of the mouths of babes? There's the solution to our problem. We need another ransom note. To the right person, this time." He called out to the men outside, "Al, get in here. I've got a job for you."
Al put out the rest of his cigar and hurried inside. "Yeah, boss?"
Jess didn't waste any time. "I want another ransom note. This time it gets left at Maude Donovan's house. Tell her she's got until six o'clock tomorrow night to come up with sixty-thousand dollars or we start sendin' her the kid's body parts, one at a time. And here's a little somethin' to show her we mean business. Take that scarf off his neck and get some blood on it, then leave that with the note."
"Whose blood, Jess?"
Kincaid carried a knife concealed in his right boot; he'd slipped it out while he was talking and grabbed Cindy's left arm. One quick superficial slice down the inside of her arm and Al had all the blood he'd need. Hammond hurried over to Beauregard and removed the neck scarf the boy wore, then quickly wrapped the wound on Cindy's arm to stop the bleeding. The girl let out a yelp when she first felt the blade pierce her skin, but the injury was a mere scratch and she didn't make another sound. "Make sure you get in and out without gettin' caught, Hammond," Jess ordered as the blood-stained scarf was wrapped up in the note. "Wait another hour, then it'll be dark. And for God's sake, don't let nobody see you."
Al looked from Cindy to Jess, then nodded. He took the paper and pen outside to write the note, then wrapped the scarf up and stuck it all in his back pocket. He went to saddle his horse and avoid the rest of the scene inside.
"You no-good son-of-a-bitch," Cindy spit out at Jess.
He just shrugged his shoulders. "Would you rather I cut the kid?" he asked.
Beauregard had watched the whole scene play out in gruesome fascination. Now it was all he could do to keep the tears from spilling out of his eyes. More than ever, all he wanted was to go home, and he didn't expect it to happen anytime soon. "Why did you do that?" he whined at Kincaid. "You hurt her!"
"Shut up, kid, before I hurt you," Jess ordered. And he walked outside, ignoring the chaos he'd caused.
