Robert B. Parker's the Bridge by Robert Knott

Author:Robert Knott [Knott, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Virgil Cole & Everett Hitch, Westerns
ISBN: 9781410475053
Google: 6qrqoQEACAAJ
Publisher: WHEELER PUB Incorporated
Published: 2015-01-06T11:00:00+00:00

—39—

By morning the clouds were back over us and a light snow was falling.

We got Lonnie situated as comfortably as we could on top of the mule between the panniers and traveled the shortcut the rest of the way back to the main road. We saw no sign of Driskill and his deputies on the route back to Appaloosa, but we arrived with Lonnie alive.

Lonnie insisted we let his wife, Winifred, know he was okay. We did, we stopped by their place, and Winifred scolded Lonnie regardless of his condition or what he had to say.

We left Lonnie and Winifred at Doc Crumley’s, then Virgil and I made our way over to the sheriff’s office.

It was five in the afternoon when we entered the office. Chastain was behind the desk and sitting in a cell next to Bolger was Beauregard Beauchamp. Beauregard looked up at us when we entered.

“There you are, gentlemen,” Beauregard said in his big voice as he got to his feet. “I was trying to explain to your illustrious deputy here we are friends and that there was no need to lock me up. No need whatsoever.”

Virgil looked to Chastain.

“He was drunk,” Chastain said.

Beauregard laughed, shaking his head dramatically from side to side.

“No, no, no,” Beauregard said.

“Goddamn were, too,” Bolger said from the next cell.

“A simple misunderstanding,” Beauregard said. “It was nothing more than a misunderstanding.”

“Bullshit,” Bolger said.

“One of the show people,” Chastain said, “came over, said they heard Mr. Beauchamp yelling at Mrs. Beauchamp in their trailer. Was scared for her. Book and me went over there. We knocked on the door and Mr. Beauchamp here came out with his fists up like he was a boxer and started swinging at me. I had no choice but to lock him up.”

“It was just a misunderstanding,” Beauregard said. “My wife and I were rehearsing, you see, nothing more.”

“You were drunk. Mrs. Beauchamp was frightened. And you, Mr. Beauchamp, were doing your best to hit me,” Chastain said.

“Mrs. Beauchamp okay?” Virgil said.

“She is,” Chastain said.

“He sober now?” Virgil said.

Chastain nodded.

“Should be.”

Virgil got the keys and walked toward Beauregard’s cell.

“See,” Beauregard said to Chastain, “Marshal Cole and Deputy Marshal Hitch know all too well I am like them. I am a man of substance. A man of quick resolve.”

Virgil unlocked the cell door.

Beauregard put on his fancy gambler’s frock coat and meticulously placed his wide-brimmed hat on his head with a stylish sideways tilt to it.

Virgil pulled open the cell door.

“Why, thank you, Marshal,” Beauregard said with a bow.

“I find you mistreating your wife or anybody else,” Virgil said, “I will personally put a knot in your ass.”

Beauregard gulped.

“Why, Marshal?”

“Get,” Virgil said.

Beauregard was stymied for a brief moment.

Chastain stood up and opened the door to the street for him to leave.

Beauregard was unsure just how to regain some pride, some dignity. He pulled back his shoulders, pointed his nose in the air, and walked out the door with one shoulder leading the other like the seasoned thespian he was.

“Goddamn clown,” Chastain said, closing the door behind him.

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