“Here we are, dear,” Henrick said, coming out of the back. Putting a vial on the counter for Fiala, she glanced at her and then to Doc. “Is this one causing you trouble?”
“No! No, no trouble,” Fiala exclaimed, dropping money on the counter. Snatching the vial, she bolted for the door. “Thank you!”
Henrick watched her go and collected the money before turning a sour expression to Doc. “You’re as red as a tomato and she was all nervous,” Henrick said in a gruff tone. “You hurt her?”
“No, ma’am,” Doc replied automatically. “I think we just had a misunderstanding. I’ll be doing my best to make up for it.”
Henrick snorted, “Typical man. What did you need from my shop?”
“Umm...” Doc blinked before taking a deep breath. “A couple of things, hopefully. Anything that can kill bedbugs, to start with.”
“Easy enough if you can find them all. If not, just keep spreading the compound and if they touch it, they’ll die,” Henrick said while she pulled a one-inch circular container from under the counter.
“Do you have anything that can help make sure one stays… safe… when visiting certain houses?”
“The women in town already purchase that from me. If that is what you argued with her ab—”
“No, ma’am, it wasn’t. I just didn’t want to bring anything back either if I visited any of the other houses.”
“I have an ointment for the women and a potion for the men. Yours would only last a few hours.”
“And do you have anything to help with injuries?”
“Depends on the injury,” Henrick replied.
“Cuts?”
“Depends on the severity, but I have things to help with mild to moderate cuts.”
“Very well. Can I have one of the compounds, a potion, and something to handle moderate cuts?”
“Compound is a few pennies, potion is a half-dollar, and the moderate healing ointment is ten dollars.”
Doc paused, “Hmm, a bit much for me after all, at least right now. The first two only, please.” He placed fifty-five cents on the counter.
Henrick nodded as she picked up his coins and headed to the back again. A minute later, she returned with a vial similar in shape to the one Fiala had run off with. “Here you go.” She pushed it and the small container to him. “Let me get your change.”
“Keep it,” Doc said. “I wonder if you could answer a question for me?”
“Depends on the question, don’t it?”
“I’ve heard that Doctor Whittaker only sees humans or charges a higher price for those of mixed blood. Is that true?”
Henrick’s lip curled at Whittaker’s name. “Mangy cuss that he is... aye, it’s true. When most of them need help, they see me.”
“I see. Thank you,” Doc said, tipping his hat to her as he collected his purchases.
“Don’t upset my customers while they’re in my shop,” Henrick told him.
“Understood, ma’am,” Doc said as he headed for the door.
Outside, he sighed. Worry about her later, Doc... for now, you have research about buildings in town to do. Breathing deep, Doc made his way back to the courthouse.
~*~*~
“Excuse me,” Doc said as he stepped into the records department. “I’m hoping you can help me.”
What looked like a younger version of the bird bestial from the clerk’s office stood behind the counter. “What are you looking for?”
“Which buildings in town might be for sale, to start with.”
“That’s not a lot... the silver mine made all land worth a lot and all the available lots were bought up. The only building that is still up for sale is the old, burnt-out general store, and even that has seen some interest.”
“Any idea what the asking price is?”
“Five thousand, last I heard.”
Doc blinked at her in shock, “I’m sorry, did you say five grand?”
“Yes. Like I said, all property in town is at the highest price it’s ever been.”
“Hell, that makes things problematic,” Doc sighed.
“If you didn’t buy it today, you probably won’t be able to, as it is,” the recorder told him. “Mr. Suez and the mayor are both speaking with the owner tomorrow.”
“Is there a map that shows who owns the property in town, extending out to the mines?”
“All records cost a dollar each, sir.”
Doc pulled out a silver dollar, “If you have the right map, I’d like a copy.”
The recorder nodded as she went into the back where rows of cabinets stood. After a couple of minutes, she returned, her talons lightly scoring the wood as she walked. “Is this the map you wanted?”
Doc unrolled the map and looked it over before nodding. “Yes, please.”
“Very well,” she picked up the coin. “Is there anything else, sir?”
“Not right now, thank you,” Doc tipped his hat to her and left with the map in hand.
Stepping outside, he looked up at the overcast sky. Don’t rain until I get back to the Lily, please... He walked quickly and started making a list of the things he would need to do once he had time to really look into the map. Check that what I was told is true, then see if there are any outlying buildings that might go for cheaper than the old general store. If not, I might have to find out where the two big spenders spend their time and figure out a way to speak with them.
Chapter Twelve
Doc waved to Dillon when he got back to the saloon, “Can you send up a big mug of something? I got some work to do.”
“Sure,” Dillon replied, turning to do as asked.
Doc made it to his room and got the map unrolled on the table, using coins to weigh the edges down. Collecting the mug from Posy, he gave her a smile and a penny and got a tentative smile in return.
At least she seems to be mostly back to normal, Doc thought.
In the two hours he looked over the map, he found only a couple of things: the mayor and Suez had almost split the town and mining operations outside of the town in half. There was also a third party in play, but they looked to have been marginalized into a corner. They only had a manor out near a mine, the old general store, and the real surprise, the Lily.
“Lia doesn’t own this place?” Doc muttered to himself. “If I find out who this person is and what their leverage points are, maybe I can make a deal with them.”
Rolling the map up, he stuck it in his storage chest. He opened the door to leave, but stopped suddenly because Fiala was standing there. “Fiala?”
She looked up at him and looked down just as quickly, “Doc, do you have a moment?”
Stepping aside, he motioned her into the room. “Of course.”
When the door shut behind her, Fiala hunched a little as she went to the table. “About this morning…” She trailed off, staring at the floor and not looking at him.
“I take it that you didn’t have the correct items to prevent a pregnancy,” Doc said softly.
Swallowing hard, Fiala turned to face him. “I… yes.”
“But you went and got more of it today, right?”
“It’s why I left like I did. If we can take the concoction before twelve hours have passed, then it isn’t a problem.”
“Okay. Everything is fine, then, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I just… after all you did yesterday, I was upset and embarrassed to have made that mistake. When you followed me to Henrick’s, I thought maybe you were going to pressure me to not take the—”
“No,” Doc cut her off gently. “It’s your body and your life. I have no right dictating to you. If you had not taken it intentionally and hadn’t told me, I might have been mildly perturbed. I’m sorry that I made you pass out— that’s the only reason it became an issue.”
Fiala’s lips twitched and she touched one of her ears absently. “Never had that happen before. It was nice.” The last three words came with dark red cheeks.
“Honestly, never managed to do th
at before, so it was a first for both of us. Next time, we know that it might happen and can take steps ahead of time.”
“Next time?” Fiala asked with a smile.
“I’m going to be here for some time, it looks like, so unless you object, I would like there to be a next time.”
“I wouldn’t say no,” Fiala said and took a step toward him.
“Good to know,” Doc grinned. “I do need to get going, though. I have business to see about.”
“Of course,” Fiala said. “I hope you have a good day.”
“You, too, Fiala... you, too,” Doc replied, opening the door for her.
He made it down to the bar as the sun was approaching noon. There were a half dozen men downstairs drinking, half of them sitting at the card table. Ignoring the glare from Julius at the card table, Doc went to speak with Dillon at the bar.
“Doc, you need something?” Dillon asked.
“The guy who owns this place, know anything about him?”
“Mr. Brand? What information were you looking for?”
“Anything that might help me approach him. How did he end up owning the Lily?”
“I don’t know about the first one, he almost never comes in here. Only seen him twice in the entire time I’ve worked here. Dressed in fine suits, walks with a cane, has an accent I’ve never heard another use. As for the Lily… he won it during a tournament at the Gold Strike.”
“That’s the big gambling place down the street, right? Owned by the mayor?”
“Owned by the mayor now, not then. Back then, it was owned by Mr. Brand. Brand would hold tournaments there once or twice a year, and almost three years ago, Madam Lia went. From what I’ve heard, she was doing well and made it to the final table. That’s where things started going bad. You see, side bets during the tournament are a common thing for those who have the extra to spend. Mayor Goodman, Mr. Suez, Mr. Brand, and Madam Lia were the last four in the tournament.”
“I can see where this is going,” Doc sighed.
“During one of the hands, Brand pushed all of his money in. Madam Lia called him, but then Brand goes one better; he offers the Gold Strike up as a side bet. Lia didn’t call right away and thought about it before offering up the Lily as its equal. Goodman and Suez objected that the deal wasn’t equal, so she went further and said she’d run the house as the Madam for three years, as well.”
“What did they have?”
“Madam Lia had a full house, aces over kings. Brand had a straight flush.”
“Bad beat,” Doc sighed. “It’s been over two years?”
“Three years in a couple of months.”
“How did Brand lose the Gold Strike?”
“The next tournament, he bet it against the mayor’s saloon. Lost it and a number of other pieces of property during that. Hasn’t come to town much since then.”
“He stays out at his manor?”
“As far as I know,” Dillon said as he turned to start pouring drinks for the waitress working the room.
“Has the mayor hosted any tournaments?”
“None, and a lot of gamblers have been upset at that. It was a draw for the town, but the mayor hit the silver mine and hasn’t been interested in risking anything.”
Doc put a quarter on the bar, “Thank you, Dillon.”
Dillon blinked but took it. “Anytime, if you are going to tip like that.”
“If the information is worth it, I pay. Guess I need to head down to the Gold Strike and see what that place is all about.”
“Have fun, but, uh... watch the other players and dealers,” Dillon spoke softly, as if not wanting to be overheard.
“Good to know.”
Doc pulled his coat closer when he got outside, a chill wind blowing. The sun was up, but thick gray clouds had come in, bringing the scent of rain with them. Walking quickly down to the Gold Strike, Doc was glad it hadn’t started to rain by the time he got there.
He was surprised when he stepped inside the gambling hall— it wasn’t as wide open as he expected. Instead, there was an antechamber with two people behind thick wood and iron bars. Two large bull bestials stood on either side of the enclosure, shotguns held in their hands. A set of double doors stood to the right of the cashier’s cage.
Reminds me of a really small Vegas casino, Doc smiled as he approached the two cashiers. “Evening. I’m assuming you have the chips to play?”
The woman he addressed gave him a long look before she replied, “Yes, sir. Did you wish to purchase some chips?”
“Yeah,” Doc said as he pulled out his coin purse and emptied it on the counter. “I believe it’s about thirty dollars in total.”
The cashier made quick work of counting up the money and exchanging them for chips in a variety of denominations. “We hope you enjoy your time, sir. The bigger games will open at sundown, as normal.”
“I’ll just build up a bigger stake until then,” Doc chuckled as he took the chip rack. “Have a good day.”
Passing one of the guards and entering the main room, Doc smiled. This is more like what I envisioned. Poker, baccarat, blackjack, roulette, and craps tables filled the large room. Two dozen men sat at different tables, and at least three women in fine clothing accompanied a few of the men.
Doc took a slow walk through the room, getting an idea of the layout and stakes of each game. The baccarat table was not the game like he knew it, but the older game, “Faro.” What was it that Hoyle used to say about faro? Something about how there’s no such thing as an honest faro game? Yeah, let’s avoid those tables.
The roulette table had a dealer behind it, but there was no one playing. The blackjack tables had a couple of players each, and the single craps table open had four people. That left all the others playing at two different poker tables.
Do I want to play stud or draw? Doc asked himself as he walked toward them. The stud table is nickel ante and the draw table is a dime. Hmm… Let’s start slow and see what this place is going to be like.
Doc gave the others a neutral nod as he picked an empty seat at the stud table. “Afternoon.” He kept his face passive, but was surprised at some of the rougher clothing most of the men wore.
“Ain’t seen yous before,” one of the men scowled.
“New in town,” Doc shrugged. “I felt the need to feel the chips and cards in my hand.” Placing his stack of chips in front of him, he waited for the ongoing hand to finish.
“Damned Easterners,” another man snorted.
Doc sighed, “Here I thought this table might be friendly.”
“Guess again,” the first man sneered. “Go back where you belong.”
“Gentlemen,” the dealer said evenly, “the Gold Strike is open to everyone. If you dislike the gentleman, play and take his chips. Openly denigrating another isn’t allowed, as you should well know.” The men snorted but shut up. The dealer smiled tightly as he looked to Doc, “You have the next ante, and as it happens, the following one.”
Doc nodded, “That’s fine.”
The next couple of hours passed with little excitement; Doc won enough hands to add about fifteen dollars to his stack of chips, but never by winning a major pot. He did become aware of the woman sitting at the table helping the man she was with, passing along card information when she could steal glances at the man on her other side.
Obviously a house-bought lady, or the dealer would stop her, Doc thought, knowing the dealer had seen her a couple of times. Something to keep in mind if one of them sits beside me.
With his stack of chips having grown, Doc stood up when the last hand came to an end. “Well, this has been entertaining, but I think something with more excitement is needed. Thank you for the game.”
“Just going to leave?” one of the men scoffed.
“Yes,” Doc smiled as he motioned the dealer for a chip rack. “I’ll leave you all to fight among yourselves.”
“Asshole,” one of the others spat.
Doc got his chips together and walked
away. The room had gotten livelier, and most of the tables now had at least one person at them. As he took his time deciding where to go, a woman dressed much like the others came toward him.
“Excuse me, sir, are you looking to have a companion while you enjoy the tables?”
Doc gave her a smile, “Perhaps. The second floor here, is that restricted for larger games?”
Suited for Luck Page 9
