“Yes, all right,” Kate said. “I told them.” She shrugged. “Hey, women talk about men.”
“And they don’t think you’re some kind of . . . loose woman?”
“They’re my friends,” she said. “They know how hard it is for a single woman to find a good man. And they don’t judge me.”
“Well, those are good friends to have.”
“And you didn’t tell Virgil? Or James?”
“I did not,” he said. “I’m a gentleman, and a gentleman never tells.”
She stared at him for a few moments, then said, “You know what? I believe you.”
“You should,” he said.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him along.
“Where are we going?” he asked. “Don’t you live that way?”
“Yes,” she said, “but your hotel is this way . . .”
Dave Holman turned the woman over, stared at her naked back and ass. He rubbed his rigid penis along the cleft between her ass cheeks. She was a thin girl, but she still managed to have big breasts and a nicely padded butt.
He lifted her onto her knees, poked his penis between her thighs.
“Whatchoo doin’?” Regina demanded.
“Ain’t you never done it this way?” he asked. “From behind.”
“You ain’t puttin’ nothin’ in my behind,” she told him, indignantly. “I ain’t no whore.”
“Not your behind,” he said. “Look, just spread your thighs. I’ll use my hand . . . see? Right there.”
“Oh,” she said, then “Oh! Dat’s . . . nice.”
“Now wait,” he said. He slipped his penis between her smooth thighs, found her wet and waiting, and slid easily into her.
“See?” He moved in and out of her. “Ain’t that nice?”
“Yeah, it sho is,” she said. She lifted her butt higher, began to find his rhythm and back into him as he poked her.
They started out slowly, then he began to move faster and faster. When Dave had met Regina in the kitchen, he knew he wasn’t going to need to find a whore in Colton. This girl needed to be poked. He could see it in her hungry eyes. And he was right. He talked nice to her, complimented her, said how good her food was. When he helped her clean up in the kitchen he kept bumping her hip with his, noticed that she didn’t pull away. Then, when they were drying dishes, he pulled her to him and kissed her. He liked the way she tasted and kissed her again. She responded, and soon their tongues were going at it.
“I ain’t never been with a white man before,” she’d told him.
“That’s okay,” he said. “I ain’t never been with a black girl—but you taste so sweet, Regina.”
She agreed to take him home with her that night, to a small two-room shack in a poor section of town, but warned him to keep quiet because of her five kids.
Now, as his breath began to quicken, she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder.
“Remember you gotta be quiet,” she told him in an urgent whisper. “My kids is in the next room.”
He gritted his teeth and said, “I remember.”
But in the end it was her who made noise, crying out when he came inside of her, and from the other room a little girl’s voice called out, “Momma, you havin’ a bad dream?”
TWENTY-ONE
As Clint and Kate entered the hotel together, Clint saw Sally Quest starting up the steps.
“Miss Quest,” he called.
She turned, eyes wide, and stared at him, then relaxed when she saw it was him.
“Mr. Adams,” she said. “I just got the message you and Mr. Earp left me. Has there been any word?”
“No,” he said, “but we did want to talk to you again.”
“I’m really very tired right now,” she said. “Can it wait?” She looked at Kate curiously.
“This is, ah, Kate Violet. She is a business partner of James Earp’s.”
“I see,” Sally said, although she clearly didn’t.
“Hello,” Kate said.
“Can you come to Virgil’s office tomorrow morning?” Clint asked Sally. “We can talk then.”
“Yes, of course,” she said. “I’ll be there after breakfast.”
“Good. Thank you.”
“Good night,” she said, looking at both of them.
“Good night,” he said.
“Good night,” Kate echoed.
Sally started up the stairs.
“That’s Virgil’s client?”
“Yes.”
“The one with all the money?”
“Yes.”
“She’s very young to have so much money.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Shall we leave and come back?” she asked. “Or just follow her up?”
“Let’s just give her a minute to get to her room,” he said.
Clint turned and looked over at the front desk. The clerk was nowhere to be seen. As nervous as he was, Clint wondered if the man was hiding down behind the desk.
“Are you sure she has the money she says she has?” Kate wondered.
“She’s got a lot of cash with her,” he said, “and Virgil checked her out in Nevada. She inherited a silver mine from her father. She’s got the money she says she has.”
“So she’s looking for her older sister?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Did Virgil check on that?” she asked.
“On what?”
“Well, you said she has the money she says she has,” Kate said. “Does she have the sister she says she has?”
Clint stared at her.
“What?” she asked.
“You’re a genius.”
When Dave Holman got back to the boardinghouse, his brother, Link, was on the porch with Derek Morrell.
“Where’ve you been?” Link asked.
Dave grinned.
“You found a whore?”
“I found a gal.”
“Who?” Link asked.
“That nigger gal who cooks,” Dave said. “Regina.”
“You been with a nigger?” Derek asked.
“Yep,” Dave said, “and a sweet little thing she is, too.”
Derek Morrell just shook his head. He’d never been with a black girl, and never intended to be. It just wasn’t right.
“Did she happen to say anything while you were with her?” Link asked.
“I didn’t give her much time to talk, if you know what I mean,” Dave said, proudly.
Link and Derek stared at him.
“Say anythin’ about what?”
“The house, about the Earps,” Link said. “Anythin’ that we could use.”
“Use for what?” Dave asked. “Link, you still ain’t told us what we’re doin’ here.”
“I hate to agree with Dave,” Morrell said, “but he’s right.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Link said. “You fellas will know what we’re doin’ in plenty of time. You gonna be seein’ yer little nigger gal again, Dave?”
“If we’re stayin’ in town a few days, I hope so,” Dave said.
“Well, if ya do,” Link said, “see what you can find out about the Earps.”
“Like what?”
“Just keep your damn ears open, boy,” Link said. “Jesus, I don’t wanna have to end up tellin’ ya when to wipe your ass and when to wipe your nose.”
“Okay, Link, okay,” Dave said. “Take it easy. We just wanna know what’s goin’ on.”
“When have you ever gone wrong listenin’ to me?” Link asked them both.
“Never,” Morrell said.
“Okay, then,” Link said. “Just wait a while, that’s all.”
Link turned and went inside.
“He was with a woman tonight,” Morrell said.
“Him, too?” Dave asked. “Which one? The one who works here, with the big teats?”
“I don’t know which one, but I can always tell,” Morrell said.
“If he was with a woman it’s gotta have somethin’ to do with why we
’re here,” Dave said. “He’s my brother and I know that much.”
“Well, he’s right about one thing,” Morrell said. “We’ve never gone wrong listenin’ to him, so just do what he says and, sooner or later, we’ll find out what the hell is goin’ on.”
“You don’t have to tell me that, Derek,” Dave snapped. “I know my brother.”
“Yeah, okay,” Morrell said. “I’m gonna take a walk and have a cigar. See you inside.”
Dave watched Morrell step off the porch and walk toward town, lighting a cigar.
“Now what’s goin’ on with him?” he wondered aloud.
TWENTY-TWO
Clint wrapped Kate in his arms from behind and pressed up against her. Her body was still hot and moist.
“Are you staying tonight?” he asked.
“Do you want me to?”
“I’ll buy you breakfast in the morning.”
“Wow, that’s an offer a girl can hardly refuse.”
“Then you’ll stay?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I might need a little something extra to make up my mind.”
Clint’s penis was pressed against her ass and started climbing up her butt.
“Is that something extra enough?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Oops, wait . . . wait . . . oh, it’s getting there. Now it’s big enough to be called a little something extra.”
He turned her around roughly and kissed her, and now his cock was crawling up her belly. She reached between them and grabbed it.
“Oh yes,” she said, “that’s it!”
She mounted him, holding his hard penis so she could impale herself on it. She started to buck on him, and put her hands up on her head so that her breasts jutted and bounced. She kept her hands there, closed her eyes, and just rode him. He watched her breasts with fascination, but eventually he couldn’t wait anymore. He grabbed her hips and flipped her over so quickly that she yelled. He fell out of her as he did it, but quickly straddled her and slid his cock home again. She gasped as he drove in to the hilt, and then she started to laugh as he held her by the hips and plunged in and out of her . . .
“You don’t laugh during sex,” she said to him, later. “In fact, you don’t even smile.”
“Don’t I?”
“You do before, and after, but not during,” she said. “Why not?”
“Well, I find it hard to kiss while I’m laughing or smiling,” he said, “and I love to kiss.”
“Mmm, I can tell,” she said. “Sometimes I think you like kissing better than breathing.”
“Sorry,” he said, “I love long, wet, slow, deep kisses.”
“So do I,” she said, “but you’ve got to warn a girl when you start one.”
“What if when I start it I don’t know how long or deep or slow or wet it’s going to be?”
She pulled him down to her and said, “I guess I’ll just have to hope I can figure it out before I suffocate.”
They dressed and she begged off when Clint wanted to go to breakfast.
“I look terrible,” she said, “and I’m all sticky. Need to go home, take a bath, get dressed, and go to work.”
“I bet I can get you the day off,” he said. “I know the boss.”
“Ah, but you don’t have the day off, remember?” she said. “You asked Miss Quest to go to Virgil’s office this morning, and you have to be there, too, don’t you?”
“I suppose,” he said, grudgingly.
“So you go and have breakfast, and then go to your meeting,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”
They didn’t leave the room together.
“I have to try to hang on to my reputation somehow,” she said.
He left, knowing she would sneak out later.
After breakfast Clint went to Virgil’s office and found the detective sitting at his desk.
“Did you enjoy supper last night?” Virgil asked.
“Very much.”
“Kate’s a nice woman.”
“Couldn’t be nicer,” Clint said.
“Allie and Bessie were hopin’ you’d think that.”
“You tell them I said it,” Clint replied. “After I walked Kate home last night, I ran into your client.”
“Where?”
“In the hotel,” Clint said.
“Did you talk to her?”
“Briefly,” Clint said. “She was tired, so I asked her to come here this morning.”
“Well, she hasn’t been here,” Virgil said.
It was after nine.
“She said she’d be here after breakfast.”
Virgil drummed his fingers on his desktop.
“How long you wanna wait until we go find her?” he asked.
Clint shrugged.
“Let’s go now.”
“You’re on.”
They left the office and walked back to Clint’s hotel. They already knew she was in the Presidential Suite, so they went right up past the desk clerk.
When they reached her door, they knocked several times before Virgil tried the doorknob.
“It’s not locked,” he said.
“She’s probably out,” Clint said, “but since it’s open, why don’t we take a look inside?”
“What are we lookin’ for?” Virgil asked.
“Don’t know,” Clint said. “Maybe we’ll know it when we find it.”
Virgil shrugged and pushed the door open.
“Smell that?” he asked.
“Yes,” Clint said.
They both knew that smell only too well.
Blood.
“Damn,” Virgil said.
“Better keep going,” Clint said.
They walked through the parlor to the bedroom and found her on the bed. Her throat had been slashed, and she was very, very dead.
“Well,” Clint said, “now you’ve got a real mystery to solve.”
TWENTY-THREE
Virgil said he’d wait in the room while Clint went down to the clerk and sent him for the police.
“What about your friend, Sheriff Evans?” Clint asked.
“Might as well send for him, too,” Virgil said. “Not that he’ll have much to do once the police get here.”
“Dead?” the clerk asked.
“Yes.”
“Oh, my. Should I . . . go up?”
“Not unless you want to see a lot of blood,” Clint said.
The clerk swallowed hard.
“Shall I fetch the owner?”
“Good idea,” Clint said, “after the sheriff and the police. Now, get to it!”
“Yessir.”
Clint went back upstairs, and found Virgil prowling the suite.
“Find anything?”
“No,” Virgil said. “Thought there might be some sign of a man, but there’s nothin’.”
Clint stood in the middle of the parlor and looked around.
“Wanna have a look?” Virgil asked.
“Nope,” Clint said. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“You know,” Virgil said, “I’m not really a detective. I mean, I’m not trained or anythin’.”
“That makes two of us,” Clint said. “If you didn’t find anything, I won’t, either, so why don’t we just wait for the police?”
“Fine.”
“You got any idea who’s going to show up?”
“No,” Virgil said. “I haven’t had my shingle out very long, so I haven’t had anything to do with the police yet.”
The first man on the scene was Sheriff Dick Evans. He came through the door, and stopped when he saw Virgil and Clint. Clint couldn’t be sure if the man recognized him or not from the other night, when the sheriff was drunk.
“Virgil, what the hell,” Evans said. “That pissant clerk said there’s a dead girl up here?”
“The other room, Sheriff,” Virgil said. “You better have a look for yourself.”
Evans went into the bedroom, and came out looking pale.
“Damn, that�
��s a young girl. Who was she?”
“Sally Quest, from Nevada,” Virgil said. “She hired me to find her sister.”
“And did you?”
“No,” Virgil said, then added, “not yet.”
“Send for the police?”
“Yeah.”
Evans glanced around.
“I took a look around,” Virgil said, “but help yourself.”
“No point,” Evans said. “When the police get here, I’ll be done.”
“Any idea who’s going to show up from the police?” Clint asked.
Evans looked at him, frowned, then said, “They got a couple of detectives, but there’s also a fella named Inspector James. He might show up when he hears it’s murder. You fellas got any idea who did this?”
“Not a one,” Virgil said.
“Adams?”
“No, sir.”
“Shame,” he said. “Young woman like that. Wonder what the reason was.”
“She was carrying a lot of money in a little bag,” Clint said.
“Is it still here?” Evans asked.
“Don’t know,” Virgil said. “I was lookin’ for any sign of a man.”
“Well, let’s make ourselves useful and look for it,” Evans said. “At least until the police get here.”
They were still looking when two policemen in uniform arrived with their guns out.
“Hands up, gents!” one of them said.
“Don’t be stupid,” Evans said. “I’m the sheriff. These men found the body and sent for me and you.”
“And you let them keep their guns?” the other man asked. “Sorry, Sheriff, but you’ll have to leave, and they’ll have to hand over their guns.”
“I told you—”
“Look, old-timer,” the first policeman said, “we got to do our jobs, so you just step out into the hall and wait for the inspector to get here.”
Evans gave Clint and Virgil a look that said, “See what I have to put up with,” and went out into the hall.
“Okay, gents,” the first policeman said to Clint and Virgil, “let’s have those guns.”
TWENTY-FOUR
The sheriff turned out to be right. Inspector Raymond James arrived soon after the two policemen.
“Sheriff,” he said, “what have we got?”
Virgil Earp, Private Detective Page 6
