A Different Trade

by J. R. Roberts

  The main source of his fretting was Westin himself. Of course, Clint hated steering clear of an asshole like that who’d beaten the tar out of him at gunpoint, but he took comfort in knowing he would be paying Westin a visit real soon. What truly got under his skin was the fact that Westin seemed to be going through a whole lot of trouble to hurt his stepbrother when he could have just as easily beaten Leo to a pulp and taken what he wanted from him. As far as that was concerned, if Westin wanted to hurt Leo some other way, he could have simply put the Dig Dog to a torch.

  There was something else behind Westin’s actions; possibly someone else, for that matter, causing him to work up such an elaborate trade. As he thought it over some more, Clint found himself walking down Third Avenue. Now that he wasn’t looking for a particular place or cursing the idiots who’d put the town together, he saw a lot more than the last times he’d walked that same path.

  Instead of a town that had grown outward from some central point like hubs on a wheel, Larga Noche seemed to have been put together in spurts. Small portions of town were separated into even smaller sections to provide stores, entertainments, and services. In another part of town, those same needs were met in another clump of seemingly random buildings. Perhaps someday the town would form larger districts, but there was just as good a chance that Larga Noche would dry up and blow away like so many other settlements before it.

  The main reason he thought along those lines was because Clint had been thinking about other people in town who might benefit from what was happening to Leo and his place. The first thing to pop into Clint’s mind from there was that other saloons could always do well with less competition. When it came to moving Madeline to another spot, however, that added theaters into the mix. He had yet to see any theaters in Larga Noche, but saloons were a different story. In fact, he’d heard mention of a few other places since he’d been in town.

  One of those places was the Tiger’s Paw. Just down the street from the Dig Dog was the place marked by an elaborate painting of a tiger. Upon getting a little closer, Clint was able to read the sign that let him know he’d indeed found the place he was after. Preparing himself for the worst, he opened the Tiger’s Paw’s front door and stepped inside.

  Even before he’d been able to soak in everything he was seeing and hearing, Clint knew one thing for certain: If Leo wanted to compete with that place, he was in a whole lot of trouble.

  SEVENTEEN

  The Tiger’s Paw wasn’t the largest saloon Clint had ever seen, but it had to be one of the fanciest. The dark blue carpeting on the floor alone could very well have paid for most everything Leo had at the Dig Dog. Even more impressive was the fact that the carpet was the least impressive thing Clint could see.

  Apart from the card tables and faro layouts, he spotted other games of chance that he rarely saw outside cities such as San Francisco, Denver, or New York City. As he walked through the place to approach the bar, Clint was greeted by exotic women who looked more like expensive china dolls. One of those was wrapped in dark red silk and had her raven black hair pinned up high so a few long strands could wind over her ears and brush against the ivory contours of her exposed shoulder. She was obviously from the Far East, but he couldn’t quite nail down anything more specific than that.

  Ruby red lips parted into a smile that was so genuine, Clint thought he might have actually saved the woman’s life at one time. “Greetings and welcome to the Tiger’s Paw,” she said in a rich, melodic voice.

  “Hello there,” Clint replied. “I was just passing by and thought I could have a look inside.” The instant he heard himself speaking to her, Clint wished he could draw the words back into his mouth and never say them again. He hadn’t felt so flustered since the first time he’d ever approached a woman.

  Bright green eyes reflected the same beautiful smile adorning her face. “You are sweet,” she said while taking his arm in a way that felt as if she were melting against him. “Would you like something to drink?”

  Almost immediately, Clint regained his composure. “I certainly would, just so long as you have one with me.”

  Clearly recognizing the change in his demeanor, the Asian beauty leaned against the bar while letting her hand drift all the way down Clint’s arm. “I have not seen you here before.”

  “That’s because I’m new in town. I’ve been spending some time at a place just down the street, though. The Dig Dog. Ever heard of it?”

  “I have,” she said in a voice that could have said anything at all and made it enticing. “Very strange name.”

  “It most certainly is.”

  Offering him her hand, she said, “I am Jade.”

  “Clint Adams,” he replied while taking her hand and kissing it. When he got that small taste of her skin, he couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of her tasted like. He tried not to think about it for too long, lest he be too distracted to continue.

  “I am glad you’ve decided to visit the Tiger’s Paw,” Jade said. “What would you like to drink?”

  “What would you recommend?”

  “Let me buy you a spiced rum. Just arrived from Boston this week.”

  “That sounds good.” At first, Clint thought he might have misunderstood the part about her buying the drink for him. The bartender arrived, however, took the order, and handed over two drinks without asking for a cent.

  Jade took one of the glasses and raised it. “Here is to good beginnings.”

  Touching his glass to hers, Clint sampled some of the best rum he’d ever had.

  “Do you gamble?” Jade asked.

  “Occasionally.”

  “What do you play?”

  “Solitaire mostly.”

  She smiled again. “I highly doubt that. Why are you here today, Mr. Adams?”

  “Why does any man visit a saloon?”

  “If you were just any man, you would have made it clear what you wanted by now. I think you have something specific in mind and are just waiting to ask.”

  Clint took another drink of rum and then set the glass on top of the bar. “Who owns this place?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I’d like to buy it.”

  Jade didn’t believe that for a moment. Instead, she smiled at him as she most likely did when any customer told her a bad joke. “Mr. Dhang is a very busy man.”

  “Mr. Dhang?”

  “The owner.”

  “Fact is, I’d just like to meet the man who put a place like this in the middle of such a backwards town.”

  Jade’s brow furrowed. “Backwards town?”

  “Yeah. It seems like whoever put Larga Noche together didn’t know whether he was coming or going. After walking the streets for a couple of seconds, I sure as hell didn’t.”

  Compared to the polite smile she’d showed him at his last joke, this one was something completely different. She placed her hand on his arm and let out a laugh that caught the attention of every man within ten feet of where she and Clint were standing. Considering how many people were crammed into that saloon, that was saying something.

  “I know just what you mean!” Jade said. “When I first got here, I spent most of my time being lost.”

  Clint came up with a few humorous stories about their shared frustrations with the town while finishing their rum. When the barkeep took the empty glasses away, Jade wrapped her arm around his and led him toward the gambling tables. “I will take you to see Mr. Dhang.”

  “Much obliged.”

  Leaning in to brush against him as she walked, Jade whispered, “I like the way men in this part of the country speak.”

  “Well, I’m sure I speak for all such men when I say we like the way you do pretty much everything.”

  Jade laughed again and brushed her hair back, filling Clint’s nose with her scent. She escorted him across a room that was filled with almo
st more people than Clint had seen thus far in the rest of the town. The customers were occupied with all manner of diversions ranging from card games to exotic women. Just when Clint thought they’d reached the edge of the room, Jade took him a bit farther.

  Finally, they walked up a narrow set of stairs leading to a floor that was half the size of the main level. It was in the shape of a crescent and built so a good portion of the tables up there could look down on the ones below. The games up there were different than the ones being played on the first floor, as were the players. While the men on the main floor were mostly engrossed in poker or faro, the cards up here weren’t even painted with the same symbols or pictures as those. The few tables Clint saw that were using standard decks had the cards spread out in unfamiliar patterns.

  The men playing those strange games were dressed in expensive suits that were tailored to fit them perfectly. They all stared at Clint with mild distaste as he passed them by, but were quickly diverted by the woman who was accompanying him. It did Clint some bit of good to know that the men on the second floor were familiar in at least one way.

  The table Jade approached was at the farthest point of the floor’s crescent shape. It had the best view of the main room and was easily blocked off by a trio of solidly built Asian men whose thickly muscled arms and beefy hands looked as if they’d been molded from granite. Although their suit coats were too well made to give anything away, Clint had no doubts that those men were carrying enough firepower to defeat a small uprising.

  There were four men playing whatever game was being hosted at that table. Clint leaned forward to get a look at the cards, but was blocked by a wall of muscle that closed in while scowling at him. One of the men seated at that table wore a suit cut from dark purple silk and frilly cuffs sprouting from both sleeves. At least two of them were Chinese, and the other had a different look to his facial features and body type.

  The skinniest of the four men had wrinkled skin that looked as if it had been steamed partially loose from his bones and long wispy silver hair that hung from the back of his scalp and his chin. His clothes weren’t as obviously expensive as those worn by the others, and seemed almost as antique as the man wrapped within them. He squinted at Clint, frowned, and said, “Why is this foreigner interrupting us?”

  Jade smiled. “His name is—”

  “I don’t care to hear his name,” the old man snapped. Jabbing a finger at the three muscular guards, he said, “Take him from my sight, slit his throat, and leave him outside.”

  Some of the men chuckled at that, and before Clint could say anything, the old man waggled a bony finger at the closest guard. “No, no,” he said in his screechy voice. “Remove him from my sight, take him outside, and then slit his throat. Better for rug.”

  Clint didn’t like that option much better than the first.

  EIGHTEEN

  Two of the monolithic guards stepped forward while opening their coats to reveal even more guns strapped to them than Clint had anticipated. He knew better than to make a move for his Colt, however, since that would only make a bad situation worse.

  “No need for any of this,” Clint said. “I’ll leave on my own.”

  Jade tightened her grip on his arm. “He is a guest here,” she said in a sharp tone that caused the gunmen to stop in their tracks. “He will be treated as such.”

  Both gunmen kept their hands within easy reach of their weapons and turned around to look at the card table. The old man there slowly stood up and calmly said, “If he is still here by the time I sit, I will kill him myself.” To make his point even clearer, he pulled aside a flap in his jacket and drew a blade that was slender enough to slide between a set of ribs with next to no effort.

  Before Clint could finish sifting through the options for escape that would hurt the least, the man next to the Asian fossil reached out with one hand to touch the old man’s arm. “That is quite enough,” he said in a smooth baritone.

  The old man bared his teeth and hissed a string of syllables in a language that didn’t quite sound Chinese. The man with the deep voice had a solid build, a round face, and a mustache that didn’t have a single whisker out of place. He looked up at the old man and said a few things in the same language that had been spewing from those withered lips.

  Still muttering obscenities from another land, the old man sat down.

  Rising to his feet, the man who’d put the old man in his place bowed slightly and said, “You will have to excuse him. He is losing quite a lot of money. Mostly due to his poor temperament.”

  The old man didn’t like that one bit and was quite vocal about it.

  “Clint Adams,” Jade said while gesturing with her free hand, “this is Ki Dhang.”

  The gentleman with the round face and perfect mustache shook Clint’s hand while saying, “I have heard of you, Mr. Adams.”

  “Have you now?” Clint asked.

  “Yes. We are all quite fond of the more colorful stories of this wild land.” Glancing down at the old man, Dhang spoke in his native language. The only words Clint recognized in there were his own name. Although the old man’s features softened a bit, he was still a long ways from friendly.

  “Mr. Adams wanted to have a word with you,” Jade said. “I didn’t think you would mind.”

  “Of course not. My friends,” Dhang said to the others seated at the table, “excuse me for just a moment.”

  The other players responded with subtle nods, and their game, whatever it may have been, was quickly resumed.

  There was a bar against the back wall that was most likely very well stocked. Clint couldn’t tell right away because the bartender was a stunning woman clothed in nothing but a pearl necklace. Her skin was flawless and her proud, ample breasts were only slightly covered by the long black hair that flowed over her shoulders. All Dhang had to do was look at the woman to get her to pour him a drink.

  “I will have my usual,” Jade said.

  “I’ll have one of those, too,” Clint added.

  Before long, two glasses of light green liquor were placed in front of them. Clint picked his up and took a drink. “Absinthe. That’s why they call you Jade?”

  She smiled, nodded, and drank the liquor as if it were less potent than ice water.

  “Mr. Adams,” Dhang said while leaning against the bar, “what brings you to my place of business?”

  “I’ve been in town for a short while and thought I’d have a look around. I would’ve stopped by sooner, but I’ve had some trouble with a man by the name of Westin Voss.”

  “I have heard of him. Is he responsible for . . .” Rather than saying the words, Dhang motioned at Clint’s bruised face.

  “Yeah,” Clint said. “Him and some of his friends.”

  “Most unfortunate. It is dogs like that which give a town a bad name.”

  “Have you had many dealings with him?”

  “I do not allow his kind into the Tiger’s Paw.” After sipping his drink, Dhang added, “Bad for business.”

  “So you do know him,” Clint said. “Otherwise you wouldn’t know what kind he is.”

  “He did come to see me some time ago. I believe he wanted to force me to pay him protection money. He changed his mind when one of his gunmen disappeared.”

  Even though he’d barely seen the three hulking gunmen move, Clint could imagine several different and unpleasant ways those monsters could make someone disappear.

  “He is a petty thief,” Dhang continued. “Nothing more. I am certain a man of your talents will have no trouble in finding retribution for what was done to you.”

  “I’m not worried about that. I’m asking around on behalf of Leo Parker.”

  “Who?”

  “He owns the Dig Dog Saloon just down the street.”

  “Ah yes,” Dhang said. “Such an unfortunate name. I have heard that he has a few talented sing
ers working for him.” Lifting his glass, he said, “I wish him well.”

  “Do you know any reason why someone would want to run him out of business?” Clint asked.

  “Honestly, Mr. Adams, if you have been inside that establishment, you would know that if a man wanted it to fail, all he would need to do is wait.”

  For Leo’s sake, Clint would have liked to refute that statement. However, he doubted a man who gambled in so many different languages would have gotten far if he couldn’t spot a bluff.

  “Is there anything I can get for you, Mr. Adams?” Dhang asked. “A seat at one of our high-stakes games perhaps?”

  “Perhaps,” Clint replied. “For now, though, I’ll let you get back to your game before that old man has a fit.”

  “That old man can arrange three deaths in as many countries with one word,” Dhang warned. “You might want to keep your voice down.”

  “All right, then. I’ll just be on my way.”

  NINETEEN

  Clint wasn’t exactly thrown out of the Tiger’s Paw. He was shown to the door. In his years, he’d been tossed out of plenty of places, and many times the men doing the tossing said they were showing him the door. That usually amounted to his face meeting the door before his body met the street. This time, however, Jade walked with him through the main room and outside, where she parted ways with a kiss on the cheek. When she left him standing outside the saloon, Clint almost thought that leaving had been his idea.

  Across the street was another place he intended on visiting. Since he wasn’t welcome back inside the Tiger’s Paw while that crazy old man was still there, Clint made his way over to a place that had scantly clad women displayed in most of the windows on all three of its floors.

  Before Clint had even touched the front door, he’d already been propositioned by at least half a dozen women from the windows as well as the porch. Stepping inside the place should have been a dream come true considering all the ladies that came to meet him. Instead, he felt like a single piece of bloody meat that had been tossed into shark-infested waters.