“I told Buckley…he shouldn’t take her—”
“The hell you did!” Lloyd knelt down and grasped the man’s hair, pulling hard. “Tell us how you all ended up in on this together!”
Beck spit more blood. “That night…after meetin’ up with Buckley and Holt at Gretta’s place…me and Clyde and Tucker went out and got…drunk with them. Buckley thought it would be a good idea for me and Clyde and Tucker to try gettin’ a job…at the J&L…get to know the lay of the land so’s Buckley could make plans…’cause he knew he couldn’t…come on to the J&L…so he needed somebody to…help him.” He looked at Jake, his eyes showing his terror. “Then you shot Mike Holt…and Buckley got run out of Denver…so me and the boys decided to get a job with you…anyway…’cause you were so famous and all…figured we could take you and make a name…for ourselves. When you…shot us up and kicked us off, we went back to Denver, lookin’ for work. Clem…he showed up at that same tavern one night…braggin’ as how he’d like to kill…Jake Harkner on account of you’d…beat him up bad. So we got to talkin’ about…how we could all…get even with you. We’d all…worked on the J&L…so we knew winter was the best time to sneak in…when not so many men was out watchin’ the borders.”
Lloyd jerked his head back. “What about Brad Buckley? He was forced to leave Denver! How did you end up with him?”
“We all got jobs…at the railroad depot. Needed time to…plan and…lo and behold…Brad Buckley came back to Denver on a train one day…and we all…got back together. Buckley, he came up with the idea of…burnin’ down one of your barns. He was…glad to know men who’d worked on the J&L. But I swear, Jake…the thing…with your wife… That was all Buckley’s idea.”
“You and the others abused my wife and beat on my grandsons!” Jake growled. “Boys! Just boys! Nobody hurts anyone in my family and gets away with it!” Jake slammed the barrel of his gun across Beck’s face, and the man cried out, staying on the ground and begging Jake not to shoot him. He curled up, bawling like a baby.
“What have they done with my wife?” Jake roared.
“N-nothin’,” Beck answered. “Not…yet. Clyde and…Tucker… They don’t want nothin’ to do with hurtin’ her.” Beck’s words were muffled against the snow as he kept an arm up against his head. “It’s…Buckley who kept sayin’…what he was gonna do to her. I got…throwed by my horse. That’s how you…found me. My leg hurt somethin’ awful…and I couldn’t get up. The others…just left me behind.”
Jake jerked him onto his back again. A deep gash on his right cheek was bleeding profusely. “So your first story about leaving them to come and tell us where to find my wife was a lie to save your ass! You saw us coming and figured to make up something that sounded good.” He pressed the barrel of his gun painfully against Beck’s eye. “You’ve told us two stories, Beck! How about the truth this time? Where did they take my wife?” he demanded, unmoved by the man’s weeping. “Is she warm? Did any of you hit her?”
“No! Not me!” Beck sobbed. “Buckley…he hit her. The more she fought, the more he hit her. He threatened…to do things…with her…but we didn’t want…no part of that. They’re takin’ her…to that old cabin on the west side…of Fire Valley. Me and the boys…told him that was a good spot…’cause they can see you comin’ from the cabin. They’re gonna…hole up there and…take you down.”
“And through it all you didn’t do a thing to help my wife, did you?” An enraged Jake brought his pistol hard across the side of Beck’s head, this time near the temple. He got off the man and holstered his gun, walking a few feet away and bending over in grief at the thought of Buckley hitting Randy, maybe doing something worse.
Beck rolled over again, managing to get to one knee. Blood dripped onto the ground from his mouth and from the cuts from Jake’s pistol-whipping and split skin at his forehead where Little Jake had hit him with the rock. He wept from the sharp pain in his scrotum and his broken leg. “I couldn’t…help her. Buckley…would have shot me!”
“Well, now I want to shoot you!” Lloyd seethed. “You should have taken your chances with them!”