Deguello (A Hunter Kincaid Novel) - Page 70

“My, you’re so forceful.”

Ike grinned, then laughed. “You horse’s butt.”

“Eldorado is the next town. We’ll stop and get you something for your headache.”

“Okay.”

“And I’ll stop mentioning you trying to die on me.”

“Deal.”

Kelly sat in the rear seat, biting her lower lip and shaking her head in small, slow movements as she looked at the two people in the front seat.

Hunter turned her head and winked at her. Kelly said, “You two are like a brother and sister.”

Chapter 18

They pulled into Eldorado twenty minutes later, driving past the courthouse and the bank to a Stripes Convenience Store. Ike went inside and Hunter kept watch on the road for Suretta, and so far, no luck.

Ike returned with Dr. Peppers, peanuts, and some of the large Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, giving them to Kelly, along with the soft drink and the peanuts. He gave Hunter a pack of peanuts and a Dr. Pepper and kept the other ones for his own. He worked his neck as if it was stiff.

Hunter said, “Did you get something for your headache, or just candy?”

Ike patted his shirt pocket, “Got some Advil right here.”

Hunter pulled out on the main street and continued through town and on toward Sonora. She said, “My grandparents lived in Sonora.”

“Oh yeah?” Ike said. “It was a rough town from what I heard.”

“I guess. Will Carver, of Butch Cassidy’s Wild Bunch outfit was killed here by the Sheriff. He was in Sonora at a bakery buying some pastries when they tried to arrest him, Carver drew his pistol from the waistband and the front sight hung up, causing him to almost tear off his trousers. That gave the Sheriff enough time to shoot him five times, putting an end to the confrontation. That was in 1903.”

“I’ll be.”

“The Babbs were around there at about the same time; this was before they moved to the country around Langtry and the Big Bend. The old man, Cherokee Bill, had killed twenty-three men in shootouts, and his son was almost as good. There were several families like that around there.”

She continued, “In the nineteen thirties, my grandfather was nine when he saw two men gunned down in Sonora. It was at a cantina down by the big draw. Seems these two guys were messing with an older gent’s daughter, sneaking into the house at night uninvited, going into her room, and wouldn’t leave her alone. He warned them once, but they didn’t quit, so he walked down to the cantina, went through the door, and found them drinking at the bar.

My grandfather and a friend were playing outside nearby and watched the whole thing. He said they heard shots, then the two men came running out of the bar and the old man followed them, shooting as he came. Both men fell about five feet from my grandfather. He was shaken up, but didn’t move. He told me he watched their eyes glaze over as they died.”

Ike said, “And he was nine? Holy cow.”

“There was other stuff, other shootings and killings, too.”

“Great place to grow up.”

“Funny, they thought exactly that. The country was wild far beyond the days of Hickok and Hardin. I think every town had some problems back then.”

“Maybe, but not everybody had Butch Cassidy’s Wild Bunch hanging around on their streets eating donuts.”

One cheek dimpled with a half-smile. “I guess not.”

As they drove into Sonora on Highway 277, Hunter pointed to the right, “There’s the golf course and the airport is just beyond it. I’ll go slow, see if you catch sight of the plane.”

Ike and Kelly watched until they were beyond it and turning off US 277 onto the access road for I-10 West. Hunter said, “See anything?”

“Nope. Not even golfers.”

“I’ll pull in here and we can watch from behind the hotel for Suretta and the plane.” She pulled into the Days Inn Devil’s River and went to the back area, parking in a space where they could watch the airport.

Tags: Billy Kring Thriller
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