Free This Violent Land by William W. Johnstone

corpse. The body was displaying considerable damage left by vultures. In addition, the face had been blackened by prolonged exposure and deterioration. A crudely lettered sign told the story.
    Â 
    T HIS M EXICAN
Was hung for murder
Leave his carcass here for the buzzards
    Â 
    Smoke removed the marshal’s star from his shirt and dropped it into his pocket before he continued his ride into Salcedo. He passed through the main part of town without stopping, going all the way to the far end of the town into the Mexican section. He stopped in front of a building with the sign C ARLOS B USTAMANTE , M ORTUORIO painted on it.
    Smoke didn’t actually speak Spanish, but he understood enough to know that the sign meant Bustamante was the undertaker for the Mexicans. Tying Seven off in front of the building, he stepped inside, where he was greeted by a man dressed all in black.
    â€œ Sí, señor? ”
    â€œYou’re the undertaker?” Smoke asked.
    â€œ Sí, for the Mexicanos, I am the undertaker,” Bustamante said. “The Americano undertaker is back up the street several blocks.”
    â€œI’m askin’ about a Mexican.” Smoke’s voice was grim as he went on. “He’s hanging from a tree just outside of town.”
    â€œ Sí, that is Juan Montoya, Dios sea con él ,” Bustamante said with a sigh as he crossed himself. “He was hanged because they say he killed an Americano puta . But he did not kill her.”
    â€œHow do you know he didn’t kill her?”
    â€œSeñora Echeverria works at the casa de putas as a maid. She saw Señor Quinncannon coming from the room of Señorita Fannie. He had blood on his hands, and when Señora Echeverria went into the room, Señorita Fannie . . . ah, she was dead.”
    â€œWhy didn’t Señora Echeverria go to the law?”
    â€œShe did, señor. She told Marshal Bradford and Marshal Cassidy what she had seen, but they did not believe her. And then, Señor Quinncannon and some others said that Montoya was the one who murdered the puta.”
    â€œWhy would they choose Montoya?”
    â€œHe worked in the casa as a cook. But he was not even there, then. He was home. His neighbors saw him.When Señor Quinncannon and the others came for Montoya, the neighbors told them that he had been at home all night, but they would not listen.” Bustamante shook his head solemnly. “Instead, they took him out of town and hung him from a cottonwood tree.”
    â€œSeñor Bustamante, I don’t understand. If you’re the undertaker for your people, why do you let the corpse of Juan Montoya hang from a tree for many days?”
    â€œSeñor, perhaps you did not see the sign. The sign said that Juan Montoya, may he rest in peace, must be left hanging there.”
    â€œYou say may he rest in peace. But it doesn’t seem to me that he can rest in peace with the buzzards picking at him. I want you to go get him, bring him in, and bury him.”
    â€œSeñor, I am afraid of Quinncannon. He is a muy malo hombre. ”
    Smoke nodded. “All right, I suppose I can understand that. Do you have a wagon and a horse to pull it?”
    â€œI have a wagon and a mule.”
    â€œHitch the mule to the wagon. I’ll go cut Montoya down and bring him to you.”
    Bustamante’s eyes widened. “If you do that, you will be killed, señor.”
    â€œYou let me worry about that.”
    * * *
    Fifteen minutes later, Smoke came back into town a second time. He was driving the undertaker’s wagon, and in the back of the vehicle, conspicuously visible, was the vulture-picked and deteriorating body of Juan Montoya.
    â€œLook,” he heard someone exclaim. “Ain’t that Montoya’s body in the back of that wagon?”
    â€œThat’s the Mex undertaker’s wagon, ain’t it?” another man asked.
    â€œI don’t know, but that sure ain’t