The Heart of Mary: A Thorn Novel

by Brandy Golden

  "That was Boxcar and his partner, Thorn," she gasped.

  "Right again," he purred, then lifted his long arm and brought it crashing down twice on the upturned globes before he soothed them once again.

  "And what did they want?"

  "They said they were here to see Frank." She moaned as his fingers entered the crevice between her thighs, slipping in easily in the wetness and swirling around the button that was eagerly awaiting his attentions.

  "Who else was here?" He already knew Doc was there, he'd seen him go in. He'd been there every day, twice a day, since that fool Frank had beat Maria up.

  "It...it was Doc," she squealed when his hand burned her beautiful bottom six times in a row. Such a blushing shade of pink. Ironic that she hated the color pink, he thought.

  "Go on, what happened?"

  "He woke her up—Doc woke Maria up," she panted. He paused until she pushed her bottom up into his hand, demanding his attention.

  "Did she actually wake up and speak?" he growled, suddenly ripping the pantaloons down to her ankles and off her body.

  "Yes, she did speak," cried Fife, trying to rub on his thigh. He refused to give her satisfaction for the moment.

  "What did she say?" His left hand squeezed her breast hard, and she squealed.

  "I-I couldn't hear what she said," she admitted in a small voice. "I don't think anyone but Thorn and Mary heard it, because she whispered it to them when they bent over the bed. Then she just—died."

  "Now that is something new, sweetheart, you've earned a reward." He pulled her up, placed a couple of pillows on the bed and indicated her to bend over them. He could see her trembling, the mounds of her buttocks shaking and her legs quivering. He knew it was a heady combination of fear and pain, which she totally enjoyed. He went to his duster and took out the quirt he had stashed inside and returned to the bed just as she jerked her head back towards the window.

  "I-I'm sorry, sir," she gasped fearfully.

  "Eyes straight ahead, you know that," he growled. "That will be ten extra for disobedience."

  "Yes, sir," she whimpered. "I'm sorry, sir."

  He tapped the quirt on her wobbling bottom and then lifted his hand and brought it slashing down across her buttocks. It left a beautiful red line across the center, like a cane. Too bad he didn't have a cane with him; he would love to have used it on her.

  "Oh, please, sir, may I have another?"

  He chuckled. She really was a glutton for punishment. A totally delightful young woman. And he knew his threat of ten extra wasn't really a threat to her, it was gift. He whipped her then, stripe after stripe across her lovely bottom, until it was crisscrossed and reddened to a deep hue. He rubbed the hot throbbing flesh with one hand while he slipped his broad leather belt off with the other. "Ten more with the belt, my naughty little girl."

  "Oh, please, sir, I've learned my lesson. No more, sir, please." She was sobbing, but he knew she really wanted more. She always found some little way to be disobedient so he could give her more—and he loved to give it. He snapped his belt together, and the sound was like a pistol shot. He grinned when she jumped like a startled rabbit.

  "I say when your punishment ends, little girl, not you," he snapped as he swung the belt across both buttocks expertly, leaving a broad red band atop the smaller lines. Beautiful! He quickly laid five across her quivering buttocks and moved to the other side to repeat with five more. He could tell from the wetness trailing down her thighs that she was more than ready for him. He threw the belt aside then and moved in behind her to enter her in one deep thrust. She was sobbing into the pillow, her voice keening higher as he rode her hard. Thrusting deep and fast, he brought her up and up until they both crashed over the edge of pleasure.

  "Oh, God," she moaned. "I can't move, sir, that was so fantastic."

  It had been good, she was right, he thought as he caught his breath. Now, he had a decision to make. Fife was a loose end he wasn't sure he could afford to leave behind.

  Chapter Ten

  He'd only been in El Paso a few hours, but now he was going to leave again. He'd made up his mind to approach things differently. With all the people surrounding Mary, he would never get the chance to take her. He was reasonably sure Maria had given them a clue, so he would just let Thorn figure out where the ruby was while he watched from a distance. Then when the time was right, he'd move in and relieve them of it.

  That investigator from the Diocese had been helpful, revealing a new lead on the ruby, a one Maria Vargis—or rather her daughter, Mary. It was just dumb luck that one of the ex priests who had divorced Christ, as it were, had dropped into The Tarnished Rose and happened to see Mary. She had immediately reminded him of his long dead friend, Father Tobias Benedict. The resemblance was uncanny.

  He had immediately reported his findings to the Diocese about a month ago, and they had decided to start yet another investigation. And of course, he had been waiting. What he had never been able to figure out, nor any of the other investigators over the years, is why every person who was at the mission at the time of the Indian attack was accounted for, with no leads as to who might have taken it... They simply had to assume that the Indians had stolen it. However, even with the help of the government, systematically transferring them to reservations, no trace of the ruby had ever been found, which brought him back to the present and his little problem—what to do about Fife.

  Quickly, he went over their association in his mind. He didn't normally have a problem wrapping up loose ends, but he really didn't want to close this one. He ran his palm over her hot buttocks and down her long slender thighs. So gorgeous. And he supposed if there was such a thing as real love, he might have some of that feeling for her.

  She didn't have a lot of brainpower, but she was such a good lay. So accommodating, so sweet—and just the way he liked it. The question was how much she could hurt him, if they should discover the association she had with him. In spite of her pledge to total secrecy, he knew she would break easily under questioning. And that Thorn fella was smart. If anyone could track him, it would be him. He didn't want Thorn and his partner on his trail, but he didn't want to snuff out the flame of this beautiful whore, either. He could use her every now and then, she was very observant. Not to mention all the other benefits.

  He finally picked her up and laid her on the bed with a chuckle. "You're like a limp noodle, sweetheart."

  "Oh, sir, you were wonderful," she cooed dreamily, her eyes closing. "I can't wait until the next time. Come lay down with me." Then she drifted off to sleep in the act of patting the bed beside her. It was so cute when she did that, just like a trusting child.

  He stared down at her for a long time, his brow furrowed with indecision. It would be so easy to snap her neck in her sleep, and she would never know, never have any pain. It was the least he could do for her. Still, he hesitated, but not for long; it was time to move on.

  Five minutes later, he was out of the building, undetected as usual.

  Thorn pushed his hat back and looked around in disgust. There were papers and files strewn everywhere. It didn't look like Doc had done anything to clean up the place, either. What he was specifically looking for was paperwork regarding Mary's birth, but he hadn't found anything at all. He didn't know if there just wasn't any, or if whoever had broken in had taken it. Whoever was after Mary was smart and efficient. He could almost envy the lack of evidence the man had left behind. And somehow, he always seemed to be one step ahead of them.

  When the door opened, he reached for his gun, until he saw it was only Doc. Shoving the papers off his lap, he went to get up when something floated off one of the files.

  "What's that?" asked Doc.

  Thorn picked it up and studied the small bit of black and white fluff. "Actually, I think it's a feather, but what's it doing with all this mess? Do you have feather pillows?"

  Doc shook his head as he took a chair at his desk. "I have down pillows, white geese down. Never seen a feather that l
ooked like that in a pillow."

  The piece of fluff looked familiar to Thorn, and his forehead furrowed as he tried to think where he had seen it. Suddenly, it occurred to him. "It's a feather off a ladies' boa," he said tersely. "And I know just the lady—Fife. That boa she wears sheds."

  "Fife?" Doc looked perplexed. "That can't be from Fife, she never comes to this side of town. In fact, she rarely leaves The Tarnished Rose. Besides, I can't see her making all this mess, she might break a fingernail! No one would hire her to break into my office, and I damn sure know she doesn't have the brains to plot this mayhem. Let alone, the body count." He shook his head vehemently. "No, you're barking up the wrong tree there, son."

  "You're right," purred Thorn, a look of satisfaction on his face. "However, someone who has visited Fife might have gotten this on their clothing and carried it here unknowingly. I think I need to pay Fife a little visit before someone considers her a loose end."

  Doc looked concerned. "Now, you got me worried."

  "You better come with me, in case your services are needed," added Thorn, making his way outside, a growing knot of alarm in his gut. Was the killer still here? Or was he in Potluck? Or had he been in Potluck and not finding Mary at Clary's place, figured out the ruse and followed them here? Too many unanswered questions at this point, and Thorn tried to hurry. If the killer had been watching them in Potluck, he could have made it back here if he rode most of the night. And why did he have this sickening feeling about Fife?

  A few minutes later, they burst into The Tarnished Rose, but Fife wasn't there to greet them as usual. "Where's Fife?" Thorn snapped to the nearest girl, a redhead at the bar.

  "She was upstairs, last I heard," giggled the young girl. "She has a special friend that no one ever sees, we just hear them when he's here, if you know what I mean. We just pretend he doesn't exist." Her wide eyes went up and down Thorn's tall length suggestively.

  "Which room is hers?" he bit out, headed for the stairway.

  "It's the last one on the right, at the end of the hall," she called out as he and Doc hurried up the stairs.

  The window at the end of the hall was open, and Thorn drew his gun before standing near the side curtains to look out. All was silent in the falling dusk and the alley was clear. He looked over his shoulder at Fife's door. There weren't any sounds coming from the room, and the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach refused to leave.

  Doc knocked on the door. "Fife!" he yelled. No answer.

  "Move out of the way, Doc. I don't believe anyone is still in there, this window is open." Holding his pistol in his hand, Thorn kicked the door in with his foot and ducked down to enter the room, but he met no resistance. After quickly surveying the room and checking behind the changing curtain, he motioned Doc in. They turned to the eerily silent figure on the bed.

  "Oh, Lord," gasped Doc. "She's not moving at all. I think she's dead."

  Fearing the worst, Thorn approached the bed and leaned down to feel for a pulse at her throat. He quickly peeled the blanket back that had been carefully tucked in over her breasts and realized she was completely naked. "I don't see any blood or bruising," he whispered in the dim lighting of the room.

  "Did she have a pulse?" whispered Doc.

  "I didn't feel one. Do you think he choked her?"

  "I don't see any marks on her neck." Doc moved closer to inspect her more thoroughly. They were both startled when Fife suddenly giggled and turned over, exposing her backside in all its spanked glory. Then, without opening her eyes, she fished for the covers to pull them back up. "Oh, sir, that was perfect," she purred so low, they could barely hear her.

  Thorn pushed his hat back with his gun. If only Boxcar were here, he would have something flippant to say, but Thorn was so relieved that the girl wasn't hurt that he grinned broadly at Doc.

  "Shall we leave her to sleep?" whispered Doc, sagging in relief.

  "Hell, no," he retorted. "I've got some questions for this young woman." With that, he reached out and smacked Fife soundly on the buttocks, bringing the girl awake and screeching.

  "Wh-what are you doing in my bedroom?" she yelled, her face turning red. "Get out of here!" She clutched the blanket to her naked breasts like a virgin exposed.

  Thorn pulled up the stool near the bed and sat down. "I have some questions for you, and I want answers," he drawled with a sardonic grin.

  She scowled at him. "I don't have to answer your questions. Not unless you're willing to pay for them, that is." She cocked one eyebrow, mocking him.

  "You'll answer my questions or I'll arrest you and throw you in jail for refusing to cooperate with a lawman. Who was just in here with you?"

  Her mocking look turned to a sulky pout, and she shrugged her slender shoulders. "I don't know, I always call him sir. He doesn't have a name. Or, at least, none that he would tell me."

  "Are you the one who broke into Doc's office? I found this among the files on the floor." He held up the bit of boa. "I'm sure it came off that thing you have draped across the chair by the door." He handed it to Doc, who took it over to the boa.

  "I concur with that," replied Doc, looking sternly at Fife. "I can have you arrested for breaking and entering. What did you steal?"

  Fife studied her long red fingernails, looking totally unconcerned. "I didn't break into your office, and I don't know nothing about who did. Sir never mentioned anything like that."

  "Can you describe him?" asked Thorn, his teeth gritting.

  Fife sighed. "Big and beautiful."

  "Can you be more specific?" asked Doc dryly, seeing Thorn was getting impatient.

  Fife tapped her fingernail against her bottom teeth as if she was thinking really hard. "He was dressed all in black, from his hat to his boots."

  "When is he coming back?" Thorn glared at her. He'd take his belt to her, except he knew she'd enjoy it too much.

  Fife scooted up to rest against the backboard, hissing slightly as her bottom rubbed against the sheets and then sighing with pleasure. "I don't know. He never tells me when or if he will be back, he just surprises me."

  "What do you do for him? Besides the obvious?"

  Her features took on a sly look. "Oh, little things, observe stuff, report things to him, nothing really. He's just curious, that's all. He pays me really good for gossip and juicy stuff."

  "And what did you report to him today?"

  She glared at him. "Aren't you through yet?"

  Thorn leaned forward to stare fiercely into her blue eyes. "No, I'm not through yet, Fife. What did you report to him today?" he insisted.

  "N-nothing much," she stammered shrinking back. "Just that poor Maria died and...and that you, Boxcar and Mary had been here."

  Thorn remembered her leaving the room right after Maria died. "And what else, Fife?" Had she observed Maria trying to talk with him and Mary?

  "That Frank was arrested and taken to jail."

  "What else?"

  "N-nothing," she whimpered.

  He reached out and laid his hands on her shoulders, gripping firmly. "What else, Fife? What did you see or hear?"

  She licked her lips, her eyes darting to Doc, but she finally told him, "I thought Maria said something to you and Mary but I didn't hear it," she finished quickly. "Honest, I didn't hear anything!"

  "But you did tell him that?"

  She nodded, her eyes like saucers.

  Thorn stood up and turned to Doc. "We need to get back to Boxcar and Mary."

  As they stepped into the evening twilight, Doc asked, "Why didn't you warn her that the man's a killer?"

  Thorn reached for the reins on his horse. "Because, Doc, her adoration and stupidity is probably what saved her life. Erase that, and he no longer needs her."

  They made their way towards the hotel, stopping off at the jail first.

  "There are no lights on," observed Doc, stepping down from the bay mare. "Isn't that unusual?"

  Thorn nodded, taking his gun from his holster. "The sun's going down, I'd think
the lanterns would be lit by now. You stay here."

  Just as Thorn stepped up on the boardwalk, the deputy flew around the corner and brought his horse to a quick stop. Dismounting, he ran to Thorn, panting. "I think I've been tricked."

  "What are you talking about," snapped Thorn. "Why did you leave Ventermin unattended?" He had a nasty feeling as to what he was going to find inside, and he was ready to cuss a blue streak. He slammed the door open and pointed his gun into the office, but all was quiet.

  The deputy slipped in around him and began to light the lanterns while Thorn made his way back to the cells. "That son-of-a-bitch," he swore loudly.

  Inside the cell, Frank Ventermin was lying half on and half off the cot inside, blood pooling around his feet on the floor, eyes open and staring at the ceiling. He turned to the deputy and snarled, "Why did you leave him unattended? I wanted to question him again."

  Deputy March turned pale. "Eddie came running in here and said there was a ruckus at The Shady Lady, that someone was shooting up the place! But when I got there, nothing was going on. So I figured I'd been tricked and came back here as quick as I could get here," he panted. "I'm real sorry."

  As the deputy held the lantern up, Thorn's eyes narrowed. Ventermin had acquired a new pair of boots since earlier today. A nice pair of alligator boots. Whoever the killer was, it looked like he was mocking him! "Come on," he ordered the deputy. "We need to get to the hotel right away. You're probably lucky to be alive," he added resignedly.

  The three of them made it to the hotel in record time, and Thorn and the deputy hit the boardwalks running. Thorn scanned the hotel foyer as he entered, his pistol drawn. The young woman behind the counter gasped and grabbed her throat. "Doris, find me a young boy named Eddie who delivers messages and tell him to meet me here as soon as possible," he snapped, headed for the stairway.

  "Y-yes, sir," she said quickly. "I know who you're talking about."