Slocum and the Three Fugitives by Jake Logan Page B

Lightning because it’s got that kind of a kick.”
    â€œWe can’t afford that much!” Annabelle looked at Slocum, fire in her eyes.
    â€œIf you’d played nice, I’d’ve sold it to you for ten.”
    â€œYou better leave before you regret it,” Slocum said. He fought to keep his own anger in check.
    Deutsch laughed harshly, then followed his brother and the rest into the bright afternoon sun. The sound of their boots faded until only normal noises came through the door.
    â€œTom never told me. That’s why he went to Denver.”
    â€œThe horses I took from the road agents all had X Bar X brands. The Deutsch family controlling all the whiskey in town explains why Rory Deutsch was all upset over seeing the horses. He thought his boys had been killed.”
    Slocum thought on this. Lucas Deutsch had been one of those waylaying Tom Harris, but the identity of the other two was up in the air. He had been at a distance. One could have been the giant Timothy Deutsch. The other he had the distinct impression of being smaller, small like Rory Deutsch himself, but he could have compared that man with the giant and assumed no one was possibly so big.
    â€œHow many sons does Rory Deutsch have?”
    Annabelle said, “I don’t know. Word was they were on the trail and only got back a month or two ago.”
    â€œAbout the time the whiskey drought hit town,” Slocum said. “The boys came home and immediately went into business other than raising cattle.”
    â€œWe can’t afford that much for a bottle, John. We get thirty-five shots from a bottle and charge a dime. We’re making three-fifty and paying twenty for a bottle? We’d lose sixteen-fifty for every bottle we sold!”
    â€œCan’t see cowboys forking over sixty cents for a shot of whiskey, even if it is good. You ever hear of this Taos Lighting before?” He saw she hadn’t. “We need to talk with other owners.”
    â€œTo unite! We all present a unified front to the Deutsches and we can get our business back to normal!”
    Slocum wasn’t sure what normal meant, but Annabelle had the right idea.
    They closed up the saloon and went to talk with the owner of the Santa Fe Drinking Emporium. Pete sat out front, feet propped up on a nail keg, noisily napping in the sun. It was about siesta time, but Slocum would disturb the sleep of the dead to get back at the Deutsch family. He knew in his gut Lucas and his gang had killed Tom Harris and then tried to extort money from his sister. Nothing about that set well with Slocum.
    â€œPete, wake up, you lazy bones,” Annabelle said, shaking the man’s shoulder. He snorted, started, and pushed his hat up to see who’d interrupted his sleep.
    â€œI musta died and gone straight to Heaven ’cuz I’m seein’ an angel. Ain’t nobody else who’d disturb my siesta.”
    â€œLucas Deutsch and his brother just came by to sell me—us—whiskey at an exorbitant price.”
    Slocum watched how Pete reacted to Annabelle’s news. Earlier she had accused him of feeling guilty about living through the war when so many others hadn’t. If she wanted a display of guilt on a man’s face, she need only look at Pete. He couldn’t even meet her gaze.
    â€œDoin’ that to all of us.”
    â€œYou buy that Taos Lightning from him?” Slocum asked.
    â€œReal fiery shit, that stuff. Liquid death.” Even as he said it, he looked around as if he might have been overheard. “Not that. Nobody’d die from it.”
    â€œWho’s died drinking it? The Taos Lightning?” Slocum demanded.
    â€œRumors, that’s all. Not more ’n a dozen folks,” Pete said reluctantly when he saw Slocum wasn’t falling for such a quick lie. “And the ones what went blind, don’t know how many of them. Folks only care about gettin’ knee-walkin’ drunk. This