CHAPTER  6

 

            “Hey, mister! Wake up, sir.”

            The voice penetrated the alcoholic fog that shrouded John Wilberforce’s numbed brain. He lifted his head. A tall, muscular, rather oily-haired bartender in a white short-sleeved shirt stood in front of him, pouring steaming coffee into a cup on the bar.

            “Closin’ time comin’ right up, sir,” the man said affably. “I didn’t know those drinks were goin’ t’ hit ya so hard.”

            Wilberforce blinked several times, trying to clear his vision but the problem was not in his eyes.

            “Wha….” he mumbled, but no more words would come out.

            Despite his formidable physical presence, the bartender looked sheepish.

            “You didn’t drink that much here. Ya musta had a couple somewhere else ‘fore ya came in. I’ll try to get ya back in shape t’ drive. You jest sit there and have a cup or two ‘fore ya try to move much.”

            Wilberforce struggled to remember.

            “Yeah, I did have a couple drinks earlier,” he managed to say.

            The bartender was nodding.

            “Thought so. Ya gotta watch that stuff. How’m I supposed t’ know?”

            The banker’s hand struggled toward the cup and saucer in front of him. He had nearly reached it when he remembered the briefcase. He practically jumped in his haste to look at the stool next to him. The briefcase was there. The bartender was chuckling.

            “A sign o’ life. That’s good. There’s no need to worry about your briefcase, Mac. I been keepin’ an eye on it while you were asleep. Nobody bothered it.”

            Wilberforce sighed with relief. Now all he had to do was clear his head and get started. He reached for the cup and sipped. He looked up at the clock behind the bar. It was nearly two o’clock.

 

            Dora Wilberforce was looking at the clock on the table between their beds. After Sherry’s search had failed to turn up any money, the girl had left. She had at least come back, rolled Dora on her side, and covered her with blankets. After an hour or so of periods of vigorous struggling, the banker’s wife had become exhausted. Since then, she had been dozing from time to time, waking to struggle again with the nylon stockings that bound and gagged her, then repeating the cycle. Now she was awake and furious.

            Where was that good-for-nothing husband? It was bad enough that he had made advances to that little tramp Sherry, but it was even worse that he was not there to stop the girl from attacking her and leaving her bound and gagged and nearly naked. ‘A lesson in humility’ she had called it. Well Dora would see that Sherry got an even better lesson. John had made advances to other women too, but only those who had invited it. Sherry must have too. Dora was sure of that.

 And she had accused him of stealing the money and framing her. Dora herself had been in the courtroom when the verdict was returned. The jury couldn’t be wrong, no matter what that fool of a judge said. He was under the spell of that girl, too. Most of the men in town were, the fools.

            The cord for phone on the table had been pulled out of the wall. Dora wondered if Sherry had done the same to the living room phone. It would not be easy to get there, but she had to try. Just to get out from under the bedclothes would be no simple job. She started by gathering up the sheet in her tied hands and pulling inch by inch.

 

            Sky Ryder sat across the desk from Sheriff Winchell.

            “I just don’t know what more we can do, Sky,” said Winchell, running a finger over his graying mustache. “I’m concerned that Copper’s missing, but we don’t have any idea where to look. I’ve got Cooley and Harris watching Marie Sanders’ apartment, Tyler and Rivera at the Wilberforce place, and everybody else out patrolling the roads in the area near your ranch, including Amy Cole who I couldn’t keep from going. The State police even loaned me a team to watch Sherry’s old apartment.”

            Sky stood up and began pacing.

            “We’ve got to do more, Winch. I just know that Copper needs help.”

            Winchell looked wearily at his friend.

            “And it won’t be long before we’ll have to do less.”

            Sky stopped pacing and looked at the sheriff.

            “Some of those I just named have worked more than a double shift today. They’re going to need some rest soon, if they’re going to be any good in the future. I was just about to send Tyler and Rivera home.”

            Sky nodded.

            “And that’s the right thing to do, Winch. I’ve been through enough of these things to know that, too. When someone you love is involved, it’s easy to lose sight of things.”

            Winchell rose and walked toward the door. He stopped and put a hand on Sky’s shoulder as he passed.

            “I know that. We’ll get her back, Sky.”

            Sky followed Winchell into the outer office. It was a quiet night. Deputy Charlie Barnes was still there manning the radio.

            “Where’s Al?” asked Winchell, referring to Deputy MacKeever who would normally be at that post.

            “I sent him out for more coffee,” said Barnes. “It could be a long night.”

            Winchell nodded.

            “Get a report from Tyler and Rivera. If there’s nothing going on there send them home. As soon as Al’s back I want you to go home and get some rest, too.”

            Barnes nodded sleepily. He put out the call. Deputy Tyler reported that there was still one car in the driveway, no lights on in the house, and John Wilberforce had not returned. Barnes acknowledged and told the team to go home.

            “No sign of Wilberforce or his wife either,” mused Winchell. He turned to Sky. “You think that Sherry’s got both of them?”

            Sky shrugged.

            “Could be. She might have-“

            He stopped abruptly and turned to Barnes.

            “Did Tyler say that there was one of their cars in the driveway?”

            Barnes nodded.

            “Mrs. Tyler’s car. But she’s not there. First thing they did was to ring the doorbell.”

            Sky turned quickly back to Winchell.

            “Maybe she’s there but can’t answer the door.”

            Winchell nodded,

            “It’s worth a try. Let’s go, Charlie.”

            The three men hurried to a patrol car.

 

            Deputy Amy Cole was getting too weary to think very straight any more. She had been searching the back roads near the Flying Coronet for five or six hours now. After a brief rest, the comely deputy had insisted on returning to duty. Having been attacked, bound and gagged, and her uniform and weapon taken for the second time in a few months was too much for her. She wanted to bring Sherry in. But the long hours and the strain of the day had taken their toll on the young brunette. The highway was just ahead, and Amy had decided to take it back to town and go off duty.

            Just as she rounded a slight bend in the road, her headlights flashed on something large and metallic, possibly a car, hidden in a grove of trees. She quickly pulled off the road and shut her lights off. With a flashlight in one hand and her revolver in the other, she got out of the car and cautiously approached the vehicle. It was Sky Ryder’s station wagon.

            All traces of weariness temporarily gone, she turned back to her patrol car, intending to radio the Sheriff with the news. She had taken a step back when she saw the lights on in a nearby house. A check of her wristwatch showed after two in the morning. It was very unlike people out here to be up so late. Amy gripped her pistol and headed for the house.

            As quietly as possible, the deputy went from window to window, trying to get some idea of what was going on inside. At the back door was a most alarming sight: a buxom and attractive young woman was bound to a kitchen chair with rope. A white cloth was tied over her mouth, evidently holding a gag inside. The woman’s eyes were closed and her head was drooped over to one side. Amy did not know whether she was dead or alive. She put her hand quietly on the doorknob and threw it open. The woman’s head jerked up, eyes wide open.

            Deputy Cole had found Jeanne Hall.  

 

            Copper Ryder awoke from troubled dreams to find consciousness no better. Still was still bound and gagged, lying on her side on the motel bed with Marie Sanders. Marie had untied Copper’s legs long enough to remove her shredded nylons and use the bathroom, then had tied them securely again and laid her on the bed.  The blonde had then taken the extra blanket from the closet, removed her own clothing, and laid in the bed beside her and gone to sleep. She was still there, facing Copper with one arm draped over the bound girl. At first Copper had worked at her wrist bonds in the hope she could release herself and overpower her captor, but she had had no success and eventually drifted off to sleep. She tried another tug but the result was the same again. There was no way out of her ropes.

            Marie stirred and pulled herself closer to Copper. Their bare breasts touched. Copper was surprised to find her nipples growing harder. The girl told herself it was just the cool of the night and a little fear.  It was odd, thought Copper, that fear should do the same things to the body that other, more pleasurable kinds of excitement did.

            The blanket did not quite cover all of her and she was a little cold, so she inched a bit closer to Marie. The woman seemed to radiate heat. Copper snuggled closer, savoring the touch of her breasts against Marie’s. In a situation like this, she had to take whatever comfort there was where she could find it.

 

            Sheriff Winchell pressed the doorbell for the third time. He took a step back and waited. Deputy Barnes, arms folded across his chest, leaned against a porch support, while Sky Ryder, barely able to contain his nervous energy, paced a few feet behind them. Sky finally stepped off the porch and looked along one side of the house.

            “I’m going to look down here,” he said. “Charlie, you try the other side.”

            Sky trotted off to his side while Barnes shuffled wearily to the opposite side.

Though it was pitch dark, Sky closely examined the ground and looked in every window. At the rear of the home was a patio with heavily curtained glass doors and screens in the center, a kitchen window on Sky’s side of the house, and another window on the other. Sky tried the patio door, and was amazed to find it unlocked. Carefully stepping through the curtains, the tall flyer paused to allow his eyes time to adjust to the even blacker inside of the room. In a moment, he could see that this was the dining room. He slowly advanced, every sense alert.

Then he heard it. There was some kind of intermittent sliding or hissing sound coming from the rear of the house. He made his way to the front door and quietly opened the door for Winchell, holding his index finger to his lips to caution the Sheriff to silence. The lawman nodded, pulling his revolver from his holster as he entered. Sky looked behind Winchell questioningly. Winchell put his lips close to Sky’s ear and whispered:

“A call came over the radio. He’s answering it.”

Sky nodded and pointed toward the rear of the house. The two men crept down the hallway. Behind the partially closed bedroom door the sound continued: a slow swish and a pause, then another swish. Now some sort of muffled grunts of exertion could be heard. Sky did a short pantomime to Winchell. He pointed to himself and made the motion of a door opening. Then he pointed to the overhead light, stuck out his index finger, and made a couple rapid motions upward, as one would flipping a switch. The Sheriff nodded and readied his pistol. Like a well-drilled team, in one smooth, rapid move, Sky threw open the door and turned on the light as Winchell blocked the doorway with his drawn weapon.            

            Dora Wilberforce lay helpless on the bed. She was still gagged and hogtied with nylon stockings. She had succeeded in pulling most of the bedclothes off her, and lay panty clad before her rescuers, her bare breasts and wide eyes facing them. The surprise of the opening door and the flood of light had caused her to shriek into the gag in her mouth. When she realized whom it was she stopped but, in an agony of embarrassment, tried to draw her knees up to hide her breasts.

            Sky reacted quickly, opening his pocketknife he stepped to the bed.

            “Don’t worry, Mrs. Wilberforce. We’ll have you out of this in no time.”

            Winchell put his pistol back in its holster, and took a step forward to help Sky when he heard Barnes calling him from behind. The lanky deputy appeared at the front door and came down the hall toward them.

            “Sheriff, Amy just called in from out near Sky’s ranch. Jeanne Hall, that new gal who works for the Department of Agriculture, had a run-in with the Johnson girl. She surprised Jeanne, tied her up, and stole her car.”

            Barnes stopped dead when he saw Sky cutting Dora free. The rancher reached up to untie the stocking holding in the woman’s gag.

            “She’s been here too, Charlie,” Winchell said dryly.

 

            Copper opened an eye. Early morning light was coming through the open door and window of the motel room. She looked around as best she could. There was no sign of Marie. This might be he chance to escape. She was trying to decide how a hogtied woman could best fall off a bed, when she heard a car trunk closing outside and bare feet on the walk outside the door. Marie, wearing only panties and carrying an overnight case, came back to the room and locked the door behind her.

            “Didn’t get your hopes up too much there did you, Miss Ryder?” She put the case on the other, unused bed and walked up to Copper. She reached out and stroked one of Copper’s breasts. “Or should I say, ‘Copper?’ I guess I should seeing as how close we got last night.”

            The girl mewed in protest and tried to pull away. Marie sat down on the bed and continued her fondling of the helpless captive.

“Yeah, I hear that you’re kind of a prude with the local boys. Maybe I should tell them my secret for getting you to warm up.”

Copper protested indignantly, trying to say ‘I was just cold’ and having it come out as a string of unintelligible vowels.

“Oh, don’t spoil it,” continued Marie. “It was more fun than most nights with Johnny.”

The woman stood up and stretched. Taking in the sight of Marie’s truly breathtaking figure, Copper decided that she also might have a tale to tell the local boys. Her eyes fell on the overnight case. Marie noticed.

“When you have fun with a married man, you’ve got to have a change of clothes to take to a place like this, Hon,” Marie informed her. “I don’t want to go to my place, ‘cause the cops may be watching it, and I’ve got to go into work for a few minutes today.” Noting Copper’s surprise, she added. “It’s not that I love my job; I’ve got to pick up the money.”

She shook her head. “Poor Johnny! If he’s done what I think he did, he’ll be in for a very nasty surprise sometime today.”

She brightened, and picked up her case.

“Well, you just be a good girl and wait for me. After I’m done in the shower, I’ll let you use the bathroom and, if you promise not to yell or anything, I’ll take out the gag and let you have some water. Don’t go away now.”

 

When the rays of the sun hit his face, John Wilberforce woke with a start. He was in the front seat his car in the parking lot of the bar he had been in last night. The steering wheel was in front of him. His head was leaned back on the top of the seat, and it not only hurt mightily but also still seemed befogged. On top of that, his awkward sleeping position had put such a crick in his neck that he doubted he could raise it. Only one thought could have moved him to sudden voluntary movement and that occurred to him at this moment. The briefcase!

He sat bolt upright and looked around. There it was on the seat beside him. He remembered. The bartender had wanted to close, had given him coffee, and tried to wake him up. Finally he and another man had helped the banker to his car and dumped him in the front seat. He vaguely recalled one of them saying something about ‘sleeping it off.’ They had placed the briefcase in beside him.

He was struck by panic. Had they looked in it? Had they found the money? He looked around to make sure no one was watching and opened the case. He fumbled with the paper wrapping of the bundle of bills, but found fifty-dollar bills under the paper. The paper seemed to be just as he had left it last night.

Wilberforce breathed a sigh of relief. He found his keys in his pants pocket and started the car. A cup of coffee and a couple aspirin were all he needed before getting on the road. The whole night had been wasted, but it didn’t matter. No one suspected him of anything. And Marie couldn’t squeal on him without implicating herself. It was going to work out fine.

 

Dressed in a nightgown, Dora Wilberforce sat at her kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee. After she had been untied last night, that fool Sheriff had kept her up another hour asking questions about the Johnson girl. Dora had told him only what she needed to and refused his offer to get one of the neighbors to come and stay with her. He had insisted on leaving two deputies outside on guard, and had warned her that the men could only be spared for the night. As the banker’s wife much accustomed to business social affairs, Dora knew well the art of maintaining a mask of politeness. That fool Sheriff! And the condescending concern of that man Sky Ryder. He and his niece had sat right behind that girl in court yesterday and promised to help her all they could.

            Somehow it was all Sherry Johnson’s doing. First John was after her, and then he went after that blonde, Marie. And Dora knew deep down that he had stolen all that money. Why had he done it? To run away with one of them.

            She took another sip. And where was he now? More importantly, where was the money? With that money she could have her own life for a change. That would be sweet! But first she had a score to settle with those girls. Both of them.

            She went to the living room and looked out the front window. The Sheriff’s Department car was still there with two men inside. But they would be leaving soon. Then Dora would be free to act.

            She went to the bedroom. From a shoebox in the closet she pulled the .32 caliber revolver John had bought ‘for protection.’ She hefted it thoughtfully. Yes, she would need it, but she would not use it on Sherry or Marie unless she had to. They would get something more humiliating: ‘a lesson in humility.’

            On top of the chest of drawers was her jewelry box. She opened it and took out the one piece of evidence her husband had been foolish enough to leave behind: a matchbook. It was cheap plain white cardboard with a simple line drawing in red ink of a saddle with a cowboy hat draped over the pommel. In block letters it read: SADDLE TRAMP MOTEL – KERMIT, ARIZONA.

            She didn’t know if she would find Sherry Johnson there, but she might find Marie and John there. And that would be a start.

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

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