Thousand Mile Case (9781101619520)

by Roberts, J. R.

  “I know just what you need,” she said.

  * * *

  “A bath?” he asked moments later.

  They reached Jenny’s small house, which surprised Clint when he got inside. Although from the outside it seemed rather old, the inside had been modernized. She had running water, with a working sink and toilet facility—including a bathtub.

  “Yes,” she said, “you need a warm bath to relax you.”

  Also to get the remnants of Angela Callahan off his body.

  “You might be right,” he said.

  “Why don’t you sit in the living room,” she suggested, “and I’ll call you when your bath is ready.”

  “Okay,” he said. “You’re the boss.”

  “Yes,” she said, “in my house, I am.”

  And as if to dispel any chance that he might misunderstand her intentions, she moved closer to him and kissed him.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Ray Winston decided not to wait for Sheriff Bodie to act. In fact, he wasn’t even sure the man would act. So he decided to make a move himself.

  Everybody in town might have believed that Sheriff Bodie had cleaned out the town, but in truth he had simply created a red light situation. It wasn’t a big section of town, but if you knew where to look, you could find someone to take on any type of job.

  Winston entered the Black Ace Saloon and walked directly to the bar. He had to walk like he belonged, in order to avoid drawing the attention of everyone in the place. As it was, several men looked up and tracked his progress to the bar. But he had been there before, and there was a man standing at the bar who knew him.

  “Well, well,” Delmond King said, “look who’s here. Hello, Mr. Foreman. What brings you slumming?”

  “Lookin’ for you, Delmond,” Winston said.

  “That a fact?” King asked. “Guess that means you’re prepared to buy me a beer.”

  “As many as you want,” Winston said.

  King turned around and shouted, “Barkeep!”

  * * *

  “Ready!” Jenny shouted.

  Clint left the living room, walked down the hall in the direction of Jenny’s voice, and then entered the room with the tub.

  “It’s warm, not hot,” she told him.

  “That’s fine,” he said. “I don’t really like baths that have steam coming up from them.”

  “Well,” she said, “get undressed and I’ll go and get you some towels.”

  She left the room, and he removed his gun belt and his clothes and slipped into the tub. She was right, it wasn’t hot, but it was better than lukewarm. He set his gun down within easy reach.

  He looked around and realized he had no soap. He wondered if he was going to have to get out of the tub to find some. At that moment she came back into the room, carrying towels. She had also gotten undressed and was now wearing only a shirt that came down to her hips, leaving her thighs and legs bare.

  “I didn’t want to get my clothes wet,” she said.

  “Wet?”

  She put the towels down and then held up a bar of soap.

  “I’m going to wash your back.”

  Clint submerged himself to the neck, hoping that the water was getting the last of Angela Callahan off his skin.

  “Come on,” she said, “lean forward. Don’t be shy.”

  It was funny to him that she was taking his attitude as one of shyness. He sat up, and then shifted forward. She put her hands in the water, lathered them up with soap, and then rubbed them over his back.

  “I’m just going to use my hands instead of a cloth,” she told him. “I hope that’s all right.”

  “It’s fine,” he said.

  She rubbed his back vigorously, including his neck and shoulders, then began to scratch his back pleasantly with her nails. Clint couldn’t help himself, and began to grow hard.

  She pushed her hands down into the water to do his lower back, and slid her finger along the crack of his butt. He wondered if it was an accident until she did it again, then slid her hands down to cup his buttocks as he leaned forward even more.

  “Mmm,” she said, “you have a wonderful bum.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Why don’t I wash the front of you, too?” she asked.

  “Sure,” he said, “why don’t you?”

  * * *

  When they had two beers in front of them, King asked Winston, “What’s on your mind?”

  “I suppose you’ve heard that the Gunsmith is in town,” Winston said.

  “I heard,” he said. “I also heard Harvey went after him. That wasn’t a good idea.”

  “I guess not.”

  “I wonder who sent him.”

  “I don’t know,” Winston said, “but I want you to go after him.”

  “Alone?”

  “I don’t care,” Winston said.

  “You want him dead or just out of town?”

  “Again, I don’t care,” he said. “Do whatever you want.”

  “And who’s footin’ the bill on this?”

  “Mrs. Callahan,” Winston said.

  “Why?”

  “Adams was involved in killin’ her husband,” Winston said. “He didn’t pull the trigger, but he was there.”

  “And she blames him?”

  “Yes,” he lied.

  “Well, how much are we talkin’ about?”

  “I guess that’ll depend on how many men you’re gonna use.”

  King waved at the bartender and said, “We’ll need two more beers to discuss it.”

  * * *

  Jenny ran her hands lovingly over Clint’s chest, soaping him up. She did his neck, his shoulders again, his arms, his armpits—which he found so incredibly intimate that it just made him harder—and he popped out of the water.

  “Oh my,” she said, looking down at him. “I was going to do your legs and work my way up to that, but okay. There you are.”

  “So you planned this, huh?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said, “I planned this.”

  She soaped her hands and then took him and stroked him. She washed his penis up and down, then reached into the water to cup his genitals.

  “Oh my,” she said with his balls in her hand, “big boys.”

  “You know what?” he said.

  “What?”

  “I think you should get in here with me.”

  “Well,” she said, “I have to take my shirt off—”

  “No you don’t.”

  He grabbed her and pulled her into the tub, splashing water all over.

  “Hey!” she shouted.

  He gathered her into his arms and kissed her soundly. She kissed him back, pressing herself against him, but then pulled away.

  “Wait, wait,” she said. She unbuttoned the wet shirt and peeled it off herself, tossing it out of the tub. Then she put her hands out and posed.

  Her breasts were medium sized, and firm, which was surprising for a woman in her thirties. Usually, with woman that age, there was some sag, which he didn’t mind at all. He liked breasts of all sized and shapes. Jenny’s were exquisite, with small pink nipples.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said. “Now give me the soap.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  In the Black Ace, Ray Winston and Delmond King came to terms on the amount of money that would be paid. Now all Winston had to do was figure out a way to get it. Maybe when Adams was dead, Angela would come to her senses and be his again. With her husband’s money, they could live a very comfortable life together.

  At least, that was the plan.

  * * *

  Clint soaped Jenny’s breasts and then rinsed them off. When that was done, he leaned forward and took the nipples into his mouth. She caressed his head, held him there with her eyes closed. She felt as if she were floating on air.

  She reached between them again to take hold of his penis and stroke it. He reached between her legs to touch her, and she gasped.

  “Are you ready to get out of the tub and move
this to another room?” he asked.

  “I am very ready,” she said into his ear.

  * * *

  Sheriff Bodie had made his decision. He was going to ride out to the Callahan ranch and ask Angela Callahan if she’d told Ray Winston to have Clint Adams killed. There was no way he was going to act on Ray Winston’s word alone.

  In fact, there was no guarantee he would act on Angela Callahan’s word either.

  * * *

  “I want it done tonight,” Winston said. “Tomorrow mornin’ at the latest.”

  “It’ll have to be tomorrow,” King said. “My men are in the arms of whores at the moment, and probably drunk. It’ll take that long to get them ready.”

  “Okay,” Winston said, “but get it done.”

  “What about the money?”

  “You’ll get paid,” Winston said, “after.”

  “I’m gonna trust you, Ray,” King said, “because you know what’ll happen if you don’t pay.”

  “I know,” Winston said.

  “Okay, then,” King said. “A last beer to seal the deal.”

  * * *

  Clint and Jenny dried each other—only right, since they’d washed each other—and then she took his hand and led him to her bedroom. There they fell onto the bed together and became entwined while they kissed—legs, arms, tongues.

  “Mmm,” she said as his hands roamed over her body, “this is what that first look between us was all about.”

  “What else could it have been?” he asked, remembering the first look that had passed between him and Angela Callahan. But that was different. That was pure lust. This woman he actually liked.

  He rolled her onto her back and began to explore her with all his senses. She felt amazing, smelled sweet, and tasted delicious. She sighed as his tongue moved around her belly button, and then moved farther south.

  Finally, he settled between her legs, pushing them apart and then parting the pink lips of her pussy, which was very slick and wet. He ran a fingertip up and down the wet slit and she gasped. Then he leaned in and licked it up and down, causing her to moan and squirm.

  “Don’t stop,” she gasped.

  “I don’t have any intention of stopping.”

  And he didn’t…not for a long time.

  * * *

  Bodie made it out to the Callahan ranch before darkness could fall completely. Several of the men were leaning on the corral smoking and talking, and one came over to him.

  “What can we do for you, Sheriff?”

  “Is Winston around?”

  “Naw, he went into town.”

  “What about the lady of the house?”

  “Mrs. Callahan is in the house, best I know,” the man said.

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “Take care of your horse for ya?”

  “That’s okay,” Bodie said. “I’ll tie him off in front of the house. I won’t be staying long.”

  “Suit yerself.”

  The man returned to his friends at the corral, while Bodie walked his horse to the front of the house and tied him off. He walked up the steps and knocked on the front door.

  The door was opened by Angela Callahan, who looked surprised.

  “Sheriff.”

  “We need to talk, ma’am.”

  “About what?”

  “Your foreman.”

  “What’s he done?”

  “Can I come inside and talk?”

  She hesitated, then stepped aside and allowed him to enter.

  FORTY

  Clint continued to lick Jenny until she screamed and closed her thighs around him.

  “Oh my God!” she gasped. “I could have a heart attack if you do that again.” She looked down at him. “Do that again.”

  “Later,” he said, gliding up onto her. “First I want to do this.” He slid his cock into her easily, since she was so wet. She gasped, and this time closed her legs around his waist.

  He slid his hands beneath her, gripped her butt, and began fucking her as if his life depended on it…

  * * *

  “He what?”

  “Told me you wanted the Gunsmith killed,” Bodie said.

  “I do not!” she said. “I never told him any such thing. That fool!”

  “Relax,” Bodie said, “I’m not gonna do it.”

  “And he’ll know that, once he thinks about it.”

  “So you think he’ll do it?”

  “No, he won’t do it himself,” she said. “He doesn’t have the nerve.”

  “He’ll get somebody to do it for him,” Bodie said. “But he’ll have to pay them.”

  “He didn’t have to pay Harvey,” she reminded him.

  “He won’t want another Harvey,” Bodie said. “He’ll want to hire a pro.”

  “And that’ll take him ’til at least tomorrow,” she said. “Won’t it?”

  “Probably,” Bodie said.

  “Do you have any idea who he’d go to?”

  “No,” Bodie said, “but I have an idea where.”

  “Then you go and find him, and stop him.”

  “And if I can’t?”

  “I’ll talk to him when he comes back. If not, I’ll come to town in the morning,” she said. “Between us, we’ll stop him, the idiot.”

  “Mrs. Callahan,” Bodie said, “can you tell me why your husband chased Tom Angel until they were both dead?”

  They were seated in the living room, on the sofa. She had her hands in her lap, and she stared down at them.

  “I think I might be able to, Sheriff,” she said. “I think I might.”

  * * *

  Ray Winston left the Black Ace, almost satisfied that he’d done what he could to get rid of Clint Adams. There was still one other thing he could do, but he’d have to spend the night in town to do it. Later, he’d explain it all to Angela. She’d see and understand that he had done the right thing.

  He walked back toward town.

  * * *

  Bodie left the ranch and rode back to town. Looked like he was going to have to do his job, which he hadn’t exactly been doing lately.

  * * *

  Clint rolled over, looked at Jenny’s sleeping form next to him. She was exhausted and he was close to being exhausted, but he wanted to clean up so she wouldn’t have to do it when she woke up.

  He went back to the bath and used the towels to clean up all the water they’d spilled. Then he emptied the tub and cleaned it out. By the time he was done, he was ready for a good night’s sleep, even though it was still pretty early.

  * * *

  He awoke to the smell of coffee and bacon. He sat up, rubbed his face, then pulled on his trousers. He left his holster, but tucked his gun into his belt before going to the kitchen.

  She turned as he entered, and her eyes immediately fell on the gun.

  “I suppose you have to take that with you everywhere?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  She turned back to the stove.

  “Sit down. Have some coffee. Breakfast will be ready in a moment.”

  “What about your café?” he asked, sitting and pouring himself some coffee.

  “It’s probably open by now.” She turned and came to the table with two plates of eggs and bacon.

  “Sorry,” she said, sitting opposite him, “no biscuits. Didn’t have time.”

  “This is great.”

  He forked some into his mouth, nodded his approval.

  “So let me get this straight. You can cook like this but you don’t cook in the café?”

  “Breakfast is one thing,” she said, “but I’ve got a cook who can do anything.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Elroy.”

  “Does he ever come out of the kitchen?”

  “Only to go home. And he goes out the back door.”

  “I ate in another place when I got here. They told me I didn’t want to see the cook. The food was pretty good.”

  “That’d be Lowell, Elroy’s brother. They’
re not much to look at, but they can really cook.”

  He put some more bacon and eggs into his mouth and said, “Well, this is really cooking, too.”

  She smiled.

  “Your head is still in the clouds after last night.”

  “You might be right.”

  “You wore me out, you know.”

  “You look pretty well rested to me.”

  “Well,” she said, “I have to go to work, or I’d show you.”

  “I sort of have some things to do myself.”

  “Like what?”

  “Still asking questions.”

  “What if somebody decides they don’t want you asking questions anymore?”

  “Then they’ll try to kill me, I guess,” he said. “That’s probably the way I’ll get my answers.”

  FORTY-ONE

  Bodie couldn’t find Clint Adams, and he couldn’t find Ray Winston.

  Adams wasn’t at his hotel, and the desk clerk didn’t know where he was. It was too early to find him at a saloon. His only other chance was at Jenny’s Café.

  He didn’t know where to look for Winston, so he was just going to keep his eyes open.

  * * *

  Delmond King sat in the Black Ace, which was technically closed to the public. But that didn’t matter to him. The bartender was his cousin.

  Standing at the bar were his men, five of them. Oh, he knew that Harvey had about the same number of men with him when he went after the Gunsmith, but they weren’t pros. These five were. Men who lived by the gun, and wouldn’t mind if they died by it. None of them wanted to get old and die in bed.

  King looked at the clock on the wall, then looked at the five men.

  “It’s time,” he said.

  * * *

  Angela Callahan saddled her own horse in the barn and walked it out. Ray Winston had not come back from town the night before, so she was going to have to go there to fire him.

  “You want any of us to come with you, ma’am?” one of her ranch hands asked.

  “No,” she said, “I want you all to go to work. I’ll be back soon.”

  “And Ray?” he asked.

  “Ray’s getting fired,” Angela said.

  “Who’s the new foreman gonna be?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said, thinking of Clint Adams, “but I’m hoping.”

  She mounted up and rode toward Black Rock.