Read Gunsmith #361 : The Letter of the Law (9781101553657) Online

Authors: J. R. Roberts

Gunsmith #361 : The Letter of the Law (9781101553657) (8 page)

BOOK: Gunsmith #361 : The Letter of the Law (9781101553657)

11.49Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Read Book Download Book

ads

He turned to the girl and said, “You better get dressed. We're probably going to have company.”

She grabbed her clothes and began putting them back on.

“I hope we can get another room,” she said.

He paused in pulling on his pants and looked at her.

“Well,” she said, “I wasn't finished, were you?”

As expected, Sheriff Garver appeared soon, making his way through the people in the hall.

“Back to your rooms, please,” he called. “Go back to your rooms.”

He checked the doors, saw the one that was ajar, and stepped to it. When he opened it and saw Clint Adams, he wasn't surprised.

“More trouble,” he said.

Clint looked at the sheriff as he entered.

“Same trouble,” Clint said, “just double.”

Garver looked down at the bodies.

“Ah, the Crespo boys,” he said. “This is a continuation of the trouble you had at the poker table.”

“Obviously,” Clint said. “Nobody bothered to mention to me that he had a brother. Are there any more Crespo family members?”

“Not that I know of,” Garver said. “I think you've wiped the family out.”

“That wasn't my intention,” Clint said.

Garver looked over at the girl, who was fully dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed with the bodies at her feet.

“Amy,” he said.

“Sheriff.”

“You wanna tell me what happened?” the lawman asked.

“They broke in shooting, and Clint shot them,” she said.

“That's it?”

“That's it,” she said with a shrug.

“And what were the two of you doin' at the time?” Garver asked.

She smiled and said, “Just talkin'.”

Garver looked at Clint, who stared back.

“Okay,” the lawman said, “I'll get some men to remove these bodies.”

“No hurry in my account,” Clint said, picking up all his belongings, “I'm going to get another room.” He turned to the girl. “Amy?”

She got up from the bed and stepped into the hall with Clint, then turned to the sheriff and said with a smile, “We haven't finished our conversation.”

TWENTY-TWO

Clint got a new room from the desk clerk, and he and Amyâthe name they finally settled onâreturned to what they were doing.

If anything, having two men shot dead at her feet seemed to fuel her passion even more. As soon as they got to the new room, she dropped her dress and tore at his clothes, pushed him down on the bed, and mounted him again. She rode him long and hard again and again, seemingly completely insatiable, until finally she seemed to tire herself out. She collapsed on him at one point, and they both fell asleep.

He awoke with her lying next to him, but on his left arm. The sun was streaming through the window, shining in his eyes but on her naked back. He pressed his hand flat to her smooth back and felt the warmth of the sun there.

Carefully, he eased his arm out from under her and then walked to the window to look down at the town. At least what had happened reaffirmed his suspicions from the night beforeâthere
were
two men watching his room from the street that night. At least he didn't have to keep looking over his shoulder for them.

“Hey?”

He looked at the bed. She was propped up on one elbow. Her breasts made his mouth water, like two overripe melons.

“Come back to bed,” she said, reaching out. “It's early.”

“I know,” he said. “I have to be somewhere.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“That's too bad.”

“I promised a friend I'd help him out.”

“Oh, well, then,” she said, turning onto her back, “you better go.” She tossed the sheet off so he could see her whole body.

Hurriedly, he got dressed.

“Doesn't it bother you that you saw two men killed last night?” he asked.

She laughed and asked, “Did it seem like it bothered me?”

“No,” he said. “That's what I mean.”

“Clint,” she said, “where I work I see a lot of shooting.”

“And do they all excite you like last night?”

“Well,” she said, “that was a combination of the shooting, and you.”

He strapped on his gun and grabbed his hat, then walked to the bed. He ran his hands over her body, down between her legs, and then kissed her while he probed with one finger, making her wet.

“You bastard,” she whispered.

He slid his finger out of her and smelled it.

“I'll take you with me all day,” he said.

“Hey,” she said as he headed for the door.

“What?”

She propped herself up on both elbows this time.

“That was pretty sexy.”

He smiled and said, “I'll see you tonight.”

He left the hotel, walked to the livery, and saddled Eclipse, then headed out to Billy Dixon's ranch.

As he rode out of town, Garver stepped out into the open. He didn't know how long Adams would be out of town, but he found the fact that he was leaving this early encouraging.

Time to get things under way.

“You're late,” Dixon said as he rode up.

“Yeah, well, I got . . . busy last night,” Clint said.

“What happened?”

“Crespo and his brother kicked in my door and tried to kill me.”

“What happened?”

“I killed them. Garver didn't like it. It just proved his point about me and trouble.”

“Well,” Dixon said, “you're out here now. My men went out about an hour ago. I told them you'd be joining them.”

“What about you?” Clint asked.

“I have to open the post office.”

“Can't people go one day without their mail?”

“Yes,” Dixon said, “and according to the government, that would be Sunday. Let me get my horse. I can ride partway with you.”

He went into the barn and came out walking his horse. They rode a few miles together, and then Dixon pointed the way to the valley where the mustangs were.

“My foreman, Kelly, is out with the men. He's expecting you. If you stay around later, you can eat with us.”

“Okay, then,” Clint said. “See you later.”

TWENTY-THREE

Clint found the foreman and two other men in Central Valley. The three riders saw him, reined in, and waited for him to reach them.

“Kelly,” Clint said. He recognized him from their first meeting.

“Adams,” Kelly said. “Glad to have you. This is Charlie and Ed.”

“Boys.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Adams,” Charlie said.

Ed just nodded.

“Mustangs are in that direction,” Kelly said. “About a dozen. Any good with a rope?”

“I'm a little rusty,” Clint said, “but instead of roping them, why not just collect them all.”

All three men stared at him.

“I don't mean to interfere,” Clint said. “It was just an idea. I mean, there are enough of us.”

“All?” Charlie asked.

“Just . . . drive them back to your ranch.”

Kelly looked at the other two men, who nodded.

“Yeah, we can give that a try,” the foreman said.

They spent morning tracking the herd. When they found them, there were fifteen of them, led by a dappled gray.

“Okay,” Kelly said, “there are more than we thought. You two come in from the other side. We should be able to drive them to the ranch.”

“I'm going to see if I can drive the gray,” Clint said. “They should follow him.”

“Okay,” Kelly said, “let's go.”

It took some doing, but the four of them were eventually able to drive the small herd back to the ranch. Once or twice the gray got it into his head to go a different way, but Clint was able to put him back on the right track.

When they had them in the corral, Kelly came over to Clint and said, “It was that Arabian of yours. That gray followed him.”

Clint had figured that out, eventually. Every time the gray tried to go off on his own, he brought Eclipse in close. The gray seemed to gravitate toward the Darley.

“Lucky for us,” Clint said.

“Come inside,” Kelly said. “The boss'll be back soon. We'll get the grub goin'.”

“Okay. Let me put my horse in the barn.”

“The boys can do that.”

“No,” Clint said, “he gets ornery with strangers. I'll take him.”

Clint unsaddled Eclipse in the barn, rubbed the horse down, and gave him some feed.

“We did an honest day's work today, big boy,” he said, affectionately stroking the horse's huge neck.

He walked back to the house, found Kelly at the stove. The other two men were out at the corral, checking out the mustangs. Clint noticed that it was six thirty.

“What time does Billy usually get home from the post office?” he asked.

“Normally about this time, or a little earlier. It's about an hour from townâless with a horse like yours.”

“Something must be keeping him.”

“I'll get the boys from the corral,” Kelly said. “Grub's ready.”

While Kelly was gone, Clint figured he'd do his part so he found the plates and forks and put them on the table. When the men walked in, they laughed, having become easier around Clint after a day's work. All except for the man named Bob, who had stayed behind the whole day.

“Never thought I'd see the Gunsmith settin' the table,” Ed said.

“Somebody's got to do it,” Clint said.

The men each grabbed their own plate and walked to the stove so Kelly could fill them. When that was done, Kelly filled his own plate and joined them at the table. There was a coffeepot on the table that they all partook of.

“Where's the boss?” Ed asked.

“Dunno,” Kelly said. “Somethin' musta held him up.”

“Not like him to be late when you make stew,” Charlie said.

“He'll be along soon,” Kelly said.

But he wasn't.

By 8 p.m. Clint said, “Something's wrong. I better ride back into town and see.”

“It's gettin' dark,” Ed said.

“That's okay,” Clint said. “My horse will handle it.”

“I'll come with you,” Kelly said. “You three stay here, keep an eye on those mustangs.”

Clint and Kelly went out to the barn and saddled their horses.

“Has he ever been this late before?” Clint asked.

“Naw,” Kelly said. “He likes to get back as early as he can, maybe even get some work in.”

“Okay,” Clint said, “then something's definitely wrong.”

They mounted up and Kelly touched his rifle. “I'm ready.”

TWENTY-FOUR

They rode into Adobe Walls a little after 9:30 p.m. The street was quiet but there was noise coming from the saloons.

“The post office?” Kelly asked.

“Yeah, we better check there first,” Clint said. “We'd look silly if he was there and we didn't look.”

They rode to the post office, dismounted, and tried the door. It was locked. Clint knocked, knocked again, but there was no answer.

“Okay, now what?” Kelly asked.

“Sheriff's office.”

They walked their horse over there. Again, Clint tried the door, found it locked, and knocked a few times, but to no avail.

They looked at each other.

“Saloon,” Clint said.

“Which one?”

“The Tumbleweed,” Clint replied. “Somebody there's got to know something.”

They walked their horses again, tied them off outside, and entered. They approached the bar and, while there wasn't much room, managed to elbow their way in. The same young bartender was working, so Clint called him over.

“What can I getcha?” the young man asked.

“Some answers,” Clint said. “You seen Billy Dixon today?”

The man looked startled.

“You mean you ain't heard?” he asked.

“Heard what?”

“We had us a robbery here today,” the barman said. “The bank had a cash delivery comin' in today and it got took.”

“What's that got to do with Billy Dixon?”

“Well, he tried to stop 'em and they shot him down.”

“Is he dead?” Kelly asked.

“I don't think so.”

“Whataya mean you don't think so?” Kelly asked.

BOOK: Gunsmith #361 : The Letter of the Law (9781101553657)