Longarm #399 : Longarm and the Grand Canyon Murders (9781101554401) by Tabor Evans Page B

Heidi said at the same time.
    “Ah, marriage,” Frankie Virden said with a warming smile. “When it works, it must be like heaven. But when it doesn’t work…well, trust me it can be hell.”
    Heidi looked to the young woman but she didn’t so much as blink an eye. Maybe, Heidi thought, she is a prostitute who is currently at the head of the line for Virden’s affections. That could explain why she seemed so withdrawn and even afraid. It might also explain that black eye.
    “Mrs. Long,” Seth said, folding his arms across his chest and tipping back his black Stetson, “I understand that your husband is a United States marshal and that you are from Denver.”
    “That’s true,” she said, knowing that there was no point in denying what had obviously become common knowledge.
    “How come your husband, the marshal, didn’t ride along with us?”
    “Seth,” Virden warned, “that is really none of our business.”
    “Well,” Seth continued, “it
could
become our business.”
    “Seth!” There was steel in Virden’s voice.
    “I just mean,” Seth said, “that everyone knows that ajudge and his pretty young wife have gone missing up by the Colorado River. And I don’t mean to upset anyone, but there have been—”
    “I think you’ve said enough!” Frankie Virden hissed.
    Seth didn’t seem in the least bit intimidated. He held up his hands and smiled at everyone. “Folks, I’m just makin’ a little friendly conversation by tellin’ everyone what they already know and askin’ why this lady’s husband, who beat the hell out of Carl Whitfield, didn’t come along with us. I meant no harm nor disrespect, Frankie.”
    Frankie Virden wasn’t buying it, and his face was tight with anger. “Why don’t you just button your lip, Seth?”
    “No cause to get upset, Boss.”
    All the others seemed to glance down at their laps or out the window, and there was a tension in the stagecoach as it rolled and bounced along, heading north.
    They stopped at the Cameron Trading Post, and they all exited the coach and made their way inside. When Frankie headed off with Seth, Heidi joined Carrie Blue, and together they went to find some place to relieve themselves and then wash and have something to eat.
    “It gets damned dusty up ahead,” Carrie said in a small voice. “After we cross over the Little Colorado, the country becomes drier and we’ll have to pull the shades down or the dust will swirl up inside the coach. One time we had to do that and it was a really hot day and I damn near died of the heat.”
    “Where will we stop for the night?”
    “Mr. Wallace has someone waiting about fifteen miles up the road, at a stage stop. He’s got two small bunkhouses, one for men and one for us women. There’s alsoa kitchen and a few other things, but it’s pretty humble. They’ll change horses there and feed us tonight and early tomorrow morning before we get back under way.”
    “This isn’t exactly an easy trip, is it?” Heidi said.
    “I
hate
this trip,” Carrie Blue snapped with surprising anger. “And I don’t like going up to the Canyon and the Colorado River, either.”
    “Why not?”
    The girl started to explain, then froze into silence when she saw Virden and Seth approach. “Please just forget I said that,” she whispered. “Don’t tell Frankie or Seth what I told you.”
    “I won’t. I promise.”
    An hour later they were back in their places on the stagecoach as it rumbled along, and everyone grew sleepy as the day warmed and the dust began to thicken. Suddenly, however, they heard a shout from up top where John Wallace and his driver were seated.
    “Whoa! Whoa!”
    “What the hell?” Seth asked, sticking his head out of the window and peering through the dust up ahead. “There’s a body up there by the road!”
    “Is it a Navajo?” Frankie asked.
    “Nope. Mrs. Long, I hate to tell you this, but it’s your husband.”
    Heidi felt her heart drop to her feet. It was all she could do