A Different Trade

by J. R. Roberts

  “Girls, girls, there’s only one of me,” Clint said.

  The woman who got to him first had light brown hair and plenty of curves beneath her light pink dress. The dress’s neckline was cut low enough to make Clint wonder how the hell she didn’t fall out of it anytime she made a move. She smiled at him with full, red lips and stood so close to him that she was the only thing he could see.

  “I’m Kat,” she said.

  “Hello, Kat.”

  “Welcome to Miss Tasha’s. Come on up to my room and I’ll get us both out of all these clothes.”

  “What is this place?” Clint asked.

  She laughed and asked, “You really don’t know?”

  “No, I know what goes on in here. I mean, is there also a saloon or is it just you girls in here entertaining folks?”

  Kat took Clint’s arm and led him into the next room. Compared to how Jade had done the same thing at the place across the street, Clint now felt more like he was being dragged. “Funny you should ask. The owner is making some improvements along those lines.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Miss Tasha!” Kat’s voice was so loud that anyone within the building could have heard her. Since he was already right beside her, Clint swore his brain rattled between his ears.

  The woman who answered the shouted summons reminded Clint of a gypsy fortune-teller who made her living cheating suckers out of their money. Her weathered European features hung on her tired face as though they’d already seen everything the world had to offer and weren’t impressed. She wore at least three filmy skirts beneath several belts covered in charms and cheap jewelry that jangled loudly with every step she took.

  “Miss Tasha,” Kat said to her. “Is the bar open yet? This here fella wants a drink.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Clint explained. “I just asked if there was also a saloon in here as well as the other entertainments.”

  “Other entertainments?” Miss Tasha asked as she reached into a pocket for half a cigar and jammed it into her mouth. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “I think he means us,” Kat said.

  “He means pussy, he should just say pussy.”

  “Yeah,” Clint said curtly. “That’s what I meant.”

  “Never mind, Miss Tasha,” Kat said. “I’ll take care of him.”

  Tasha waved them both off and struck a match against a wall so she could light her cigar.

  Kat led him through a parlor and into a larger room that must have taken up a good portion of the entire floor. “Sorry about her,” she said. “Miss Tasha’s not good with people but she’s got a good head for numbers.”

  “How long has this place been around?” Clint asked.

  “Why are you so interested? Most men just come in, pick out what they want, and head to a room upstairs.”

  “I was just passing by and thought I’d stop in to take a look.”

  “Some of the girls in the windows draw you in?” Kat asked. “No need to be ashamed. That’s what they get paid for.”

  “And they do a fine job of it.” Having gotten a look at the room he was in, Clint could see the makings of a nice little saloon. There was a bar and what looked to be a fairly decent selection of liquor. “What’s that over there?” he asked while pointing to a portion of the room that was crammed with pieces of lumber and sectioned off by a tarp.

  “Just something that should be built in a while. Look,” Kat said. “Do you want a drink?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  She reached down to cup his groin. “Do you want something else?”

  “Thanks,” Clint replied, “but no.”

  “If you change your mind, I can make you real happy.”

  Kat’s hand worked between Clint’s legs with practiced skill that made him stiffen almost immediately.

  “I’m sure you could,” he said, “but I don’t pay for sex.”

  Abruptly she pulled back her hand, then he was shoved toward the front door and given half a wave as she spun around on the balls of her feet to take the arm of another man, who was allowing his lower regions to make his decisions.

  Having had his fill of scouting for a while, Clint headed back to the Dig Dog.

  TWENTY

  “So,” Leo said as he poured Clint a beer, “you basically got kicked out of both places?”

  “No.” Clint took the beer and had a drink. After a moment, he said, “Well, I guess you could put it that way.”

  “Sounds like a real successful day of scouting.”

  “At least someone is bothering to scout. I haven’t been in town for very long, and I can already see that your brother has more backing than those two idiots he rides with. If it was just those three, there are several better and quicker ways to cause you misery. He could bust up this saloon from the inside or out. And don’t forget the easiest solution of all.”

  “Don’t say it,” Leo groaned.

  “He could burn this place down.”

  “I just asked you not to say that.”

  “Or he or one of his men could just walk right up to you, beat you down, and then put a few bullets into you.”

  “My brother may hate me,” Leo said, “but he wouldn’t kill me!”

  “He could shoot you without killing you,” Clint told him.

  “All right. Enough of that. Sorry for what I said about your scouting.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “But if you’d wanted to know more about my neighbors,” Leo continued, “I would’ve been able to tell you just about anything you needed to hear.”

  “All right, smart ass. Tell me about the Tiger’s Paw.”

  “Mostly a gambling emporium,” Leo recited. “Carries plenty of exotic liquors, but not much that the locals would really care to drink. Lots of pretty china dolls working there, and they cook some of the best noodles in New Mexico.”

  “Noodles?” Clint asked.

  Leo nodded and looked in the direction of the Tiger’s Paw as if he could see the place through every wall separating them. “Over a dozen varieties. Half of them are original recipes made by the cook that the owner brought in all the way from Sacramento.”

  “Hmmm. I’ll have to see if I can get a taste for myself.”

  “So you actually found out less than I could have told you. Interesting.”

  “The owner’s name is Ki Dhang,” Clint said.

  “I knew that.”

  “He plays host to some powerful men from other states. If I had to wager, I’d say it’s just as likely they’re from other countries. Even more, I’m fairly certain those men aren’t powerful for doing business of the legal variety.”

  The smug satisfaction disappeared from Leo’s face. “You mean criminals?”

  “High-ranking ones, I’d say.”

  “Criminals have a rank?”

  “Even outlaw gangs have members that rank higher than others,” Clint said. “Some gangs are more like businesses. I’ve seen a few here and there. There are also outlaws themselves who just wield more power than some brute with a gun or a few followers. I’d say those sorts of men are no strangers to the Tiger’s Paw.”

  Leaning with both elbows on the bar, Leo glanced around as if he was afraid of some demon lurking in a corner somewhere. He didn’t have much to worry about in that regard. The only other people to be seen were the usual drinkers and a few more gamblers than normal. On the stage, the guitar player plucked his strings to a new melody while Madeline sang softly to him. “What makes you so sure of all that?” Leo asked.

  “I’ve met powerful men and I’ve met killers. The men Ki Dhang was hosting were both.” After Leo’s face had become a pale enough shade of white, Clint added, “Also, there wasn’t nearly enough money on that card table to warrant the firepower those men were surrounding themselves with.
”

  The whole truth of it was that Clint was playing a hunch. While his instincts on such matters had saved his life more than once, they weren’t exactly gospel. Since playing them off as certainty helped move things along, Clint did just that.

  “The good part is that I don’t think Ki Dhang or any of his men have anything to do with your problems.”

  For the first time that day, Leo looked truly hopeful. “Really?”

  “Yeah. The Tiger’s Paw is doing just fine as it is. He doesn’t stand to gain by anything that happens to you. That is, unless you haven’t told me something crucial in that regard.”

  “No. I’m just like you said. Insignificant.”

  “Great.” Seeing all of Leo’s hopefulness fade away, Clint added, “Trust me. There are some men who you want to think you’re insignificant. Ki Dhang and some of the others he hosts are prime examples.”

  “You’ve got me curious. I’d like to meet some of those powerful criminals. Who are they?”

  “Smugglers, most likely.” Clint couldn’t help but be amused when he imagined Leo introducing himself to the crazy old man who’d wanted to slit someone’s throat outside to keep his rugs from being stained. “I’m sure Dhang would like to meet his neighbors. Just be sure to bring a gift.”

  Eventually, Leo straightened up and spoke in a normal tone. “You’re pulling my leg right now, right?”

  “More or less.”

  “Speaking of neighbors, I’m sure you found your way to Miss Tasha’s.”

  “Why do you say it like that?” Clint asked.

  “Like what?”

  “Like some holier-than-thou asshole.”

  Leo shrugged. “I’ve done some scouting of my own and heard a few things about you along the way.”

  “You were checking up on me?”

  “When you were just delivering a few bottles, I didn’t need to know much where you were concerned. Now that my livelihood and health may be at stake, I’d say it would be smart to know more about everyone involved.”

  Since that was basically the purpose behind his day of scouting anyway, Clint couldn’t really argue with that. “So what did you hear?”

  “That you’ve bedded damn near everything in a dress wherever you go.”

  “That’s a bit much.”

  “I imagine it’s close. I know about you and that gal who runs the stable across town.”

  Clint shrugged. “All right, but did you get a look at that gal in the stable?”

  “Yes I did. Can’t say I really blame you there.”

  “I did get over to Miss Tasha’s. Before you say anything else, though,” Clint quickly added, “you should know that I don’t pay for sex, and I didn’t bed any of the girls working there.”

  “Then that’s why it was such a short visit,” Leo said. “Unless you’re buying opium or time with one of those whores, there’s not much reason to be in that place.”

  “Opium?”

  Leo nodded. “That miserable old cow bought her cathouse with profits from opium. She soaks cigars in the stuff and barely bats an eye when one of her customers has so much of it that he never leaves her place alive.”

  “Sounds like you know quite a lot about that spot,” Clint pointed out. “A lot more than you knew about the Tiger’s Paw.”

  “What can I say? Not all of the women working over there are so bad.”

  “You might change your favorable opinion if you knew that Miss Tasha stands to gain a whole lot by your place being crippled.”

  “Westin is just after some money,” Leo said. “I doubt he wants to cripple me.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t, but a partner of his might not be so charitable.”

  “And you think Miss Tasha is that partner?”

  “It stands to reason. Being set up across from a place like the Tiger’s Paw can’t be good for her business,” Clint explained. “If there’s any chance at all that Ki Dhang or any of his associates are involved in the opium trade, that would cut even deeper into her profits.”

  “Not to mention put her in danger,” Leo said. “If what you said about Dhang and his criminal friends is true, that is.”

  “More than that, I’d say her business may not be doing too well. That’s mostly just a gut impression, but it won’t take much to see if that’s true or not.”

  Leo’s face lit up as he excitedly said, “Of course! A man with your reputation would only be expected to frequent a cathouse.”

  “Hey! I told you, I don’t need to pay any woman to share my bed.”

  “Of course,” Leo said with a wink. “Me neither. If you didn’t see anything to make you suspicious, then there are a few more places in town you might want to check.”

  “You mentioned that Westin wants you to hand over Madeline, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, someone like Miss Tasha could surely put her to work,” Clint said.

  Leo’s muscles tensed and he looked toward the stage as though someone were trying to pull the pretty singer away right in front of him. “Madeline would never work as a whore.”

  “Sometimes a job like that isn’t exactly voluntary,” Clint said.

  “If that old hag thinks she’ll make that dear girl into a slave . . .”

  “Actually, even though I don’t think that woman is beyond such a thing, I’m not sure that’s what she has in mind.”

  “What, then?” Leo asked.

  “Well, it looks like she’s turning one of her parlors into something of a saloon.”

  “Nothing too surprising about that.”

  “She’s building a stage just big enough for a singer or two.”

  Leo winced. “Uh-oh.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Clint spent the next day wandering the streets of Larga Noche and looking in on as many saloons or gambling parlors as he could find. None of them stacked up to the Tiger’s Paw. In fact, only one of the saloons Clint found was much better than Leo’s place. For the most part, the others were watering holes catering to a few regular customers and their owners weren’t interested in doing much more than that.

  There was only one other cathouse in the area, and that was a small place about half a mile outside of town. The owner was a stick of a man who was too afraid of Miss Tasha to take one step closer to Larga Noche. A man like that was hardly a threat to anyone else.

  After one more day of making the rounds, Clint was convinced that his first instincts were correct and the only other players he needed to be concerned about where Leo’s situation was concerned were the owners of the two establishments closest to the Dig Dog. He was also convinced that so much walking didn’t do anything to help a set of sore ribs.

  After calling it an early night, he made his way back to the stables to pay Eclipse a visit. The Darley Arabian was just finishing up with a feed bag when Clint approached his stall to give his ear a scratch.

  “She taking good care of you, boy?” he asked.

  “You know I am,” Danielle replied from another stall.

  Clint had seen her in there fussing with another horse’s hoof, but hadn’t said much until now. “Just thought I’d come by and say hello.”

  “To me or the horse?”

  “Both.”

  After grunting with effort a few times, Danielle replied, “I’m flattered.”

  “What are you doing over there?”

  “This old girl’s got a stone under her shoe and I’m just . . .” After one more grunt, she sighed, “There you go! That’s better.” Her upper body appeared over the stall’s gate as she held up a chunk of rock. “Now she’ll stop fussing so much,” she said while tossing the rock away. “Speaking of fussing, what really brings you by? I know that’s a fine horse you’ve got, but he ain’t family.”

  “I also figured you might be here.”

  She
stepped out of the horse stall and shut the gate behind her. “Go on,” she said. As she got closer to him, Danielle reached out to put her hands on him.

  Clint smiled. “After our last visit went so well, I thought perhaps—ow!”

  She’d cut him short by moving her hands directly to his sore ribs and pressing in.

  “What the hell?” Clint asked as he backed up a step.

  “I was just about to ask you the same thing. What the hell are you doing carousing when you should be resting?”

  “Carousing?”

  “I have friends in this town other than you, you know,” she told him. “I’ve heard that you’ve been sticking your nose into every saloon in Larga Noche when you should have been resting.”

  “That’s not the same as carousing,” Clint said in his defense. “I’ve just been having a look around.”

  She glared at him for a few seconds before sighing, “I suppose I’ll believe you.”

  “No, I think you’re going to believe your friends when they told you I wasn’t ordering more than one beer in each place.”

  “And that you didn’t let yourself be led away by any of those whores working at them places,” she added. “What were you doing in those places, then?”

  Clint winced and twisted his body to try and work out a kink in his back. When Danielle saw that, her features softened a bit. “Stay where you are,” Clint snapped when he saw her reaching out for him again.

  “Don’t get squirrelly now,” she said as she gently placed her hand on him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Waiting until she got closer, Clint wrapped his arms around her so he could reach down to cup her backside. “That’s a lot better.”

  Danielle shook her head. “Not now, mister. I’m done tending to one wounded animal, which means I should tend to the next one.”

  Clint looked around at the other stalls to find Eclipse and one other contented horse apart from the one that had just gotten the stone removed from its shoe. Following her line of sight when he looked back to Danielle, he asked, “You mean me?”