“What? Why not?”
“Because he sent you those two men,” he answered. “Whatever money they get off of you, they have to split with him.”
“With the sheriff,” she said.
“Yes.”
“The law.”
“That’s right.”
“Then how can he keep his job?”
Clint shrugged. “He must have connections in town.”
“So you’re telling me the town lawman is crooked, the men I hired are crooked, and you’re not.”
“Now you’ve got it,” Clint said. “I’ll say good-bye, now.”
“B-but—”
He turned and walked down the hall, quickly down the stairs, and out of the hotel.
EIGHT
If she didn’t want his help, there was no point in trying to force it onto her.
This was supposed to be his last full day in town. He intended to ride out in the morning. He had to outfit himself for a couple of days on the trail, and check to make sure his Darley Arabian was in shape to travel. Eclipse had been a little sluggish and feeling under the weather when they arrived.
He walked to the livery stable and found Harley, the attendant, working on a horse’s shoes.
“How’s he doing?” he asked.
“Your big stallion? He’s fine. In the pink, in fact,” Harley said. “You ready to go already?”
“Time to move on,” Clint said. “I’ll just take a quick look at him.”
“Go ahead. I’ve got to get this old boy shoed.”
“What is somebody as educated as you doing working in a livery stable?”
“I beg your pardon,” Harley said. “I own the livery stable.”
“And what did you do before this?”
“I was a schoolteacher.”
“Really? Where?”
“Back east. I’m also fifty years old, and very happy with what I’m doing with my life, at the moment. Any other questions?”
“Just one,” Clint said. “How about letting me buy you a beer before I leave town?”
“When?”
“Four o’clock? The Golden Palace?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Good.”
He walked into the livery, in the back, where Eclipse stood still in a stall.
“How you doing, big boy?” he said, slapping the horse’s muscular rump. “You feeling okay?”
Eclipse shifted about a bit and his big head went up and down, as if he was nodding.
“You’re not really nodding, right?” Clint asked.
The horse stood still.
“Right.”
Then Eclipse shook his head.
“Okay,” Clint said. “You’re fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He patted the horse’s neck and backed out of the stall.
“Whatever you did to him, Harley, he looks very refreshed.”
“He just needed some rest. My guess is you push him pretty hard.”
“Yeah. Hey, I got a question.”
“What?”
“You know two guys named Angel and Joey?”
“I know Angel Pagan and Joey Votto. Those the two?”
“They together all the time?”
“They are. They’re bad men.”
“I just told somebody that,” Clint said. “Glad to hear I was right.”
“You going to get involved with those two?”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“They’d just as soon kill you as look at you,” Harley said. “And if they find out who you are, they definitely will try to kill you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Clint said. “Thanks for the advice, Harley.”
“Sure,” the liveryman said. “See you at four?”
“See you.”
Clint started to walk away, then stopped and turned.
“You think they’d kill a woman?” he asked.
Harley looked at him.
“Good-looking?”
“Yes.”
“She got money?”
“Yes.”
“In a minute,” Harley said, “but they’ll rape her, first.”
NINE
“Are we really gonna go out lookin’ for that box?” Joey asked Angel.
“Yes, we are. I tol’ you,” Angel said, “I want to see what’s in it.”
“We gonna tell the sheriff?”
“No.”
“He ain’t gonna like it.”
“Then maybe we kill him.”
“Kill a lawman?”
“Not the first time,” Angel reminded his partner.
“First time in a while, though,” Joey said.
They had outfitted themselves with just enough supplies to carry between them. They’d be riding out in the morning. At the moment they were sitting at a table in the Golden Palace, sharing a bottle.
“What the—” Joey said. “Look at that.”
Angel turned and saw the woman, Loretta Burns, coming through the batwing doors.
“What is she doin’ here?” Angel said.
She spotted them and started over.
“Lookin’ for us, I guess.”
“You two,” she said, stopping at their table.
“Miss Burns,” Angel said. “Do you want a drink?”
“No, I don’t want a drink. I want my money back.”
“But . . . why?”
“You didn’t tell me that the two of you were crooks,” she said.
“Crooks?” Angel looked at Joey, who shrugged.
“Crooks,” she said. “Thieves . . . outlaws, I believe they call you.”
“Who told you that?”
“A man named Clint Adams.”
Now when Angel looked at Joey, Joey looked worried.
“I know who Clint Adams is,” Angel said. “What I don’t know is why he would tell you such a thing. He does not know me, or my partner.”
“Well, I guess he heard it around town,” she said. “And I suppose I should have asked more questions before I hired you. I want my money back.”
“Fifty dollars?” Angel asked. “We do not have fifty dollars.”
“Where is it?”
“We spent it, on supplies,” Angel said.
“Okay,” she said, “so we’ll go back to the store, give back the supplies, and get me my money back.”
Angel thought that over, then said, “No.”
“ No?”
He stood up, grabbed Loretta Burns by the throat, and said, “No.”
“She went where?” Clint asked the clerk.
“To the saloon.”
“Which saloon?”
“The Golden Palace?”
“She went to the Golden Palace, or she didn’t?” Clint asked.
“She did,” Dwight said. “She went to the Golden Palace.”
“Why?”
Dwight shrugged.
“Dwight.”
“She asked me where I thought she could find Angel and Joey.”
“Great,” Clint said, running out of the hotel, “just great.”
“Hey!” the bartender called.
“Shut up!” Angel said.
“Take it outside,” the barman said.
None of the other patrons were paying much attention. Loretta couldn’t breathe. She thought this man was going to strangle her to death, and no one was going to do anything about it.
“Okay,” Angel said to Joey, “let us take it outside.”
“Out front?” Joey asked.
Angel shook his head. “Out back.”
They dragged her through the saloon and out the back door. There, Angel released her and pushed her down to the ground.
“How dare you—”
“If you say another word,” Angel said, “I will kill you.”
She clamped her mouth shut.
“Get her bag,” Angel said to Joey.
Joey grabbed her purse, pulled it away from her, and gave it to Angel. It had a drawstring. He opened it, reache
d in, and came out with a roll of bills.
“Oh, man!” Joey said. “How much is there?”
“I don’t know,” Angel said. “We’ll count it later.”
“Later?”
“After.”
“After what?” Loretta asked, in spite of herself.
Both men looked down at her and grinned. Then Angel reached down and grabbed her right breast.
Clint ran into the saloon, looked around, then went to the bar.
“Where are they?” he asked the bartender.
“Where’s who—”
Clint grabbed the front of the man’s shirt. “Don’t play games with me! I’m not in the mood.”
“They took her out back.”
“And you didn’t stop them?” Clint turned and looked at the half-full room. “None of you tried to stop them?”
Most of the men looked away. Some of them never looked at him, at all.
He released his hold on the bartender’s shirt and headed for the back.
TEN
They had Loretta’s shirt open and were pawing her naked breasts when he came out the door.
“Hold it, boys,” he said. “Fun’s over.”
Angel stood up and turned to face Clint. Joey kept trying to grab Loretta’s chest.
“Call him off, Angel,” Clint said, “or I’ll kill him.”
“Kill him,” Angel said, “and I will kill you. Then I’ll have the woman, and the money, to myself.”
“Hey!” Joey said.
“Well then, stand up and face him!” Angel said. “Leave the woman for later.”
Joey stood up. Loretta pulled her shirt closed and crawled a few feet away, until her back was against a wooden fence.
“T-they were going to rape me,” she said. “They dragged me out of the saloon and nobody stopped them.”
“Welcome to the West, Miss Burns,” Clint said, “where people mind their own business. Now keep quiet.”
“Why don’t you try mindin’ your own business, Adams?”
“Why don’t you and your friend walk away, Angel?”
“We work for the lady,” Angel said. “She came back here with us willingly.”
“Is that true, Loretta?” Clint asked.
“No!” she said, her eyes wide.
“Then why don’t you get up and come over here with me,” he said.
She quickly got to her feet and ran over to stand behind Clint.
“You boys object?”
“I on—” Joey started, but Angel stopped him.
“Go ahead, take ’er,” he said. “There ain’t enough meat on her bones, anyway.”
“W-what about my money?” Loretta asked.
“How much?” Clint asked.
“Fifty dollars,” Angel said. “She paid us fifty dollars.”
Jesus, he thought.
“Let it go, Loretta,” he said. “Fifty dollars isn’t enough to—”
“They took a thousand dollars from me.” She clutched her bag. “They took it from my bag. He has it.” She pointed at Angel.
“Give it up, Angel.”
“We ain’t got—” Joey started.
“Just toss it over, Angel,” Clint said. “Let’s have everybody walk away from this.”
Angel hesitated, then took out the roll of cash and tossed it to Clint, who caught it left-handed. He handed it back to Loretta, who clutched it.
“Just back away, into the building.”
“O-okay.”
“I’ll kill the first man who touches his gun,” Clint said.
Angel watched Clint, and Joey watched Angel. Clint knew if Angel went for his gun, Joey would follow. He’d have to take Angel first.
But the Mexican never moved, and eventually Clint was inside. He slammed the door, then turned and almost slammed into Loretta.
“Let’s go,” he said, turning her around. “Through the saloon.”
“Through there?” she asked. “But those people—”
“—will mind their own business,” Clint assured her. “Go!”
She moved and he followed. They walked through the saloon and out the front doors. Clint was ready in case Angel and Joey had run around front to catch them, but the pair was nowhere in sight.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, “just slightly humiliated. Thank you for saving me.”
“We better get you back to the hotel so you can change your clothes.”
“Then I want to report those men to the sheriff.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Will you take me there?”
“Well,” he said, “this should be interesting.”
ELEVEN
Clint took her back to the hotel and waited while she changed her shirt.
When she came out he asked, “Do you still want to see the sheriff?”
“Definitely. I want those two arrested.”
“Just remember what I told you about the sheriff,” he told her.
“I can’t believe that,” she said. “He’s the law.”
After what had just happened, he couldn’t believe her attitude hadn’t changed.
“Would you please take me to the sheriff’s office?”
Well, maybe it had changed a little.
“Okay,” he said. “Come on.”
When they entered the sheriff’s office Clint was happy to see that Sheriff Lane was around, but Deputy Jed Simons was there.
“Hey, Mr. Adams,” Jed said. “Time for that drink?”
“Is the sheriff here, please?” Loretta asked the young deputy.
“Uh, no, ma’am,” Simons said. “But I’m the deputy. Can I help you?”
“Deputy, this is Miss Loretta Burns. Just arrived in town this morning on the stage.”
“Welcome to town, Ma—”
“I want two men arrested,” she said. “They tried to rape me.”
“What? Who?”
“Their names are . . . Joey and . . . and . . .”
“Angel,” Clint prompted her.
“Right,” she said. “Joey and Angel. I don’t know their last names.”
“Joey Votto and Angel Pagan?” Simons asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Arrest them! They dragged me behind the saloon and pulled my clothes off—and no one in the saloon would help me.”
“You went into the saloon? Alone?”
“Yes,” she said. “I had to get my money back.”
“Your money?”
“I paid them for a job, but then I decided I wanted my money back.”
“How much?” Simons asked.
“Fifty dollars.”
“For what?”
“Why is that important?” she asked. “Do you allow men to rape women at will in the West?”
“At . . . what?”
“Rape is not allowed in the West, Miss Burns,” Clint assured her.
“Well then, make this young man arrest those two men,” she demanded.
“I can’t make him do anything,” Clint said. “He works for the town.”
She turned to face Clint. “Those two men seemed frightened of you,” she said.
“They weren’t frightened,” he said. “They were careful.”
“Why didn’t they just produce their guns?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”
“They wouldn’t be crazy enough to throw down with Clint Adams,” the deputy said.
Now she looked at him.
“Why? Who is he?” she asked, pointing at Clint.
“Ma’am?” the Deputy said. “Everybody knows who he is. He’s the Gunsmith.”
“The . . . Gunsmith? What is that, his job?”
“Ma’am, he’s a legend,” Simons said. “With a gun. Nobody’s ever beaten him. He’s killed—”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Clint said.
“A famous gunman?” she said, looking at him. “Then why didn’t you kill them?”
“I didn’t have to kill them.”
“But th
ey were raping me!”
“Well,” he said, “actually, they were robbing you, and pawing you, but they hadn’t gotten to rape.”
“Yet!” she said. “They pulled my shirt open! And you’re right, they did rob me. They took a thousand dollars.”
“A thousand?” the deputy said. He’d never seen that much money. “Did you get it back?”
“Yes, Mr. Adams got the money back for me. But that’s beside the point. If you can’t go and arrest them, I want to talk to the sheriff.”
Clint watched Jed Simons’s face, and was convinced that the young man knew that Sheriff Lane was connected to Angel and Joey. He was stuck in the middle.
“Deputy, why don’t you tell the sheriff we were here, and tell him he can find Miss Burns at the Heritage Hotel. She wants something done, officially.”
“Uh, okay, Mr. Adams,” he said. “I’ll do that.”
“Thank you.”
“But—”
“Let’s go,” Clint said to Loretta. “You can talk to the sheriff about it later.”
“B-but he’s a deputy,” she protested. “He should be able to do something!”
“Come on, Miss Burns,” Clint said, steering her to the door.
Outside, she dug her heels in.
“Why did you do that?” she demanded. “He has to arrest them before they get away.”
“He’s stuck in the middle, Miss Burns,” Clint replied. “He’s young, and he knows his boss is connected to those two.”
“I can’t believe this!” she said. “Nothing will be done?”
“The sheriff will come over and talk to you,” he said. “You’ll find out then.”
“And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“I’ll give you this thousand dollars to kill them,” she said.
“What?”
“Today,” she said. “Right now. Go over and . . . gun them down.”
“You’re crazy, lady.”
“Isn’t this the Wild West?” she asked. “Where a woman can’t walk into a saloon without being raped?”
“You didn’t belong in that saloon,” he told her. “Certainly not alone.”
“This is the famous Gunsmith?” she asked. “Won’t take a thousand dollars?”
“Not to kill someone.”
“Isn’t that what you do?”
“You don’t know anything about me,” he said. “You better get over to your hotel and wait for the sheriff.”
The Deadly Chest Page 3
