Belle Gone Bad (20 page)

M
ercy tossed back his shot of whiskey, felt it burn to his gut, and took a deep breath. He had to fish or cut bait. “A friend of mine from Delaware Bend went missing. Her name is Diana,” he answered in Belle's place.

Desperado looked suspiciously from Belle to Mercy, cocking an eyebrow.

“Oh, dear,” Adella said. “Do we know this person? Is that why you are here in our little town?”

Belle sighed. “We followed tracks.”

“In that blue norther?” Desperado asked, voice rough with skepticism.

“Close enough,” Belle said.

“I sincerely doubt you would have traveled all this distance over rough terrain if you did not fear for your friend.” Adella clasped her hands over her heart. “What may we do to help?”

“Not so fast,” Desperado said. “You are leading with your heart, not your head.”

“I stand accused,” Adella said, bowing her head, “and rightly so.”

“Adella's correct,” Belle said. “We do need your help.”

Desperado leaned forward. “In Wildcat Falls, information is not free. Gold or work?”

“If it is work,” Adella said, smiling, “I would be ever so pleased for you to join me at Adella's Delights.”

“Generous to a fault,” Desperado said.

“I stand rightly accused.” Adella bowed her head again. Mercy shared a look with Belle. At this rate, they'd never get information out of the most obtuse pair of humans he'd ever met. Even worse, he didn't know how much or how little to tell them. If the Falls was the bushwhacker's home away from home, then the less said the better. But he had a gut feeling that these two, or Desperado, at least, would not take sides, unless it benefited his town and his people. And that was the rub. What would benefit Wildcat Falls the most? Maybe he could make a better offer with his art.

“We've got an unusual number of strangers with us tonight.” Desperado broke the silence.

“Really?” Belle glanced out over the dance hall. “I wouldn't know.”

“Wouldn't you?” Desperado persisted, pinning her with his cool gaze. “Would you consider it a coincidence that the two of you arrived about the same time as the others?”

Mercy felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. Desperado's words could be taken as a threat. “Maybe the bad weather sent us all looking for shelter.”

“Maybe,” Desperado said. “Maybe not.”

“Well, I like these two lovely people,” Adella said. “You may simply forget all the others.”

Desperado looked at Mercy and shook his head. “She is so tenderhearted that she will take in any stray cat.”

“As all of you well know, no one may ever have too many felines,” Adella said.

“I imagine your town would be overrun with mice without them,” Belle agreed.

“Yes, that is important,” Adella said. “But their true value lies in their glorious beauty and great love.”

Mercy didn't want to talk about cats. He focused on Desperado. “We tracked a pacer here.”

Desperado's eyebrows shot up. “You don't say.”

“Do you know who rides that pacer?” Belle asked.

Desperado tilted back in his chair, rubbed his chin, and looked out over the dance floor. “You got a beef with the man?”

“He's here?” Belle leaned forward.

“I didn't say one way or another.” Desperado tossed back his drink.

“He brought a lady with him. Perhaps she is your Diana,” Adella said.

“Adella—”

“I know.” She bowed her head. “I stand accused of speaking without thinking and rightly so.” She glanced up. “But I told you something was simply not right, no matter what.”

“Did he kidnap the woman?” Desperado asked.

“As far as we can tell, yes,” Belle agreed. “Is she all right?”

“Hard to say.” Desperado shrugged. “She hasn't left their room at the Golden Panther Hotel.”

“But she is alive?” Belle tossed a look of relief at Mercy.

“Last anybody saw of her,” Desperado said.

“Who is the man?” Mercy asked.

“Now that'll cost you,” Desperado said. “We don't like trouble in Wildcat Falls.”

“Trouble is already here.” Belle tugged the fabric of her gown down slightly and revealed the Soleil Wheel over her heart.

Desperado reared back like he'd been struck by lightning and stood up. He motioned to a red-bandanna. “Call Tom up here. Get Jamie to bring a bottle of whiskey and four glasses. And put everybody on alert.”

Mercy sat in stunned surprise, watching the gunslinger jump into action. He glanced back. Desperado's eyes were a crystal-clear green, so pale as to be almost white in certain light. Adella's were a similar shade of the palest blue. Right now, they both conveyed alarm through their remarkable eyes.

Desperado sat back down. “If a Rattler's in town, we've got trouble. What did you come to warn us about?”

Belle looked at Mercy, indicating her surprise.

“Pardon me for not giving you a better welcome,” Desperado said. “I admit to negligence.”

“I made sure to give her a warm welcome,” Adella added.

“You knew, didn't you?”

“I admit that I suspected,” Adella agreed. “But no one ever knows for sure with Sun Rattlers, do they?”

“You've both been quite generous. Thank you,” Belle said. “We do need your help.”

“Name it.” Desperado leaned toward her.

“That faraway lady.” Adella rocked back and forth in her chair. “She moans and groans. Is that not good?”

“That's very good.” More than that, Mercy wasn't about to say concerning Victoria. He realized, belatedly, that these two were a whole lot more than met the eye. And how did they know about the existence of Sun Rattlers?

When a red-bandanna arrived with whiskey and glasses, Mercy was glad of the distraction. Besides, he needed a good stiff shot.

Adella filled two glasses and slid them across the table before sipping her sarsaparilla.

Mercy tossed back his drink with relief. “We'd like to rescue Diana.”

“You're sure she didn't leave the Bend on her own?” Desperado asked.

“She was seen struggling against a man,” Belle explained.

“Why would he bring her here?” Desperado asked.

“And leave a trail a mile wide?” Adella added.

“That's what we'd like to know,” Mercy said. “But first we need to get her to safety.”

“I doubt that will be a problem.” Desperado looked at Belle with narrowed eyes. “There's something more, isn't there?”

Belle nodded. “First I'd like to know the man's name and who he runs with.”

“I hear he's good with an Arkansas toothpick,” Desperado said, “so don't ever let him surprise you that way.”

“He likes a knife?” Mercy asked in surprise.

“I wouldn't discount his ability with a six-shooter or rifle, either,” Desperado added. “His partners in crime vary, so I can't help you there.”

“His name?” Belle prodded.

“Well, speak of the devil.” Desperado held his glass out toward the batwing doors. “Bloody Ballard.”

Mercy glanced at the front of the dance hall. “And Diana.”

B
elle felt her heart beat fast as she gazed upon Bloody Ballard, the man who had single-handedly destroyed her life. She expected him to look like a bushwhacker, murderer, and kidnapper. Instead, he appeared to be an ordinary man. He was tall and lean with tanned face and hands. He wore blue jeans, brown plaid shirt, leather vest, cowboy boots, and a six-gun on his right hip.

What was not ordinary was the firm grip he had on the upper arm of a blonde-haired lady. So this was the missing Diana. She wore a simple burgundy split-skirt with matching blouse and black boots. She stood stiffly, as if in pain or under duress, as Ballard surveyed the dance hall.

Two gunslingers paused just behind and to either side of Ballard, hands near their Colt .45s as their eyes roamed the area.

Belle glanced toward those at her table, wondering how they were taking the new arrivals. She could tell everybody had their back up, anticipating trouble and ready for it.

“You cut that warning a little close, didn't you?” Desperado poured a drink, tossed back the shot, and looked at her.

She felt her Soleil Wheel heat up. “Looks like he's here to talk. I wouldn't trust anything he says. He's a bushwhacker.”

“How do you know?”

Belle took a deep breath and looked at Mercy, not sure which direction to go, truth or fiction. He nodded in support. She let out her breath. No matter which road she took, he'd be at her back. That knowledge gave her added strength and determination. She faced Desperado, ready to take a chance and shell down the corn. “I'm Texas Belle Thompson. That man shot my father and fiancé and left them for dead.”

“Oh, no!” Adella gasped in surprise.

Desperado narrowed his eyes. “You're the female bounty hunter?”

“Yes.” She raised her chin. “And Hackett was the best Texas Ranger I ever knew before his untimely death at that man's hands.”

“Hackett was a ranger and your fiancé?”

“Yes. We sometimes worked together.”

Desperado drummed his fingertips on the tabletop, looked out across the dance hall, and then back at her.

While Belle waited for his response, she felt uneasy, as if she was about to hear something best left in the dark.

“He did business here.”

“No doubt he was pursuing leads on outlaws.” Belle knew Hackett wouldn't have come here and not have told her if he hadn't had very good reasons, most likely to protect her.

Adella reached across the table, squeezed Belle's hand, and then sat back. “No, dear, not ranger business, as you may be surprised to learn. I hesitate to say, but the truth is always best. He showed a particular fondness for the ladies.”

Belle simply stared at her for a long moment, feeling as if she might shatter into a million pieces. “Soiled doves?”

Mercy leaned close, breath warm against her face, and put an arm around her shoulders.

She realized he was trying to comfort her, but even that didn't make sense as she tried to wrap her mind around Adella's words. Hackett had betrayed her trust and their relationship?

“He was a man,” Desperado said, as if that explained it.

She shook off Mercy's support, suddenly disgusted with all men for their perfidy, and poured a shot of whiskey. She tossed it back and felt it burn all the way to her stomach. Yet the heat did nothing to dispel the chill that had invaded her body. Not only did she feel betrayed, but embarrassed as well.

“He was an excellent customer and quite the gentleman.” Adella picked up her sarsaparilla and took a sip. “As you must know, he liked to buy beautiful fripperies for the ladies.”

“Fripperies?” Belle felt as if she were choking on all the words she wanted to hurl at Hackett. He'd never bought her much of anything, saying he lived lean on a Texas Ranger's wages.

“He always had plenty of money to spend on those who pleased him,” Adella said.

Belle simply shook her head in confusion. She wished more than anything that she could confront Hackett and get the truth out of him.

“We figured him for a cattleman,” Desperado added. “Maybe some type of rustling on the side, but a man good at business.”

Belle looked from one to the other. Now that she thought about it, they couldn't be right. Not her Hackett. She held up a hand to stop their words. “I doubt we're talking about the same man named Hackett. You can't possibly mean Hackett Starling.”

“I never heard him called anything except Wild Hackett,” Adella said in a soft, soothing voice. “He took a great deal of pleasure in the Three W's. Whiskey. Women. Wagers.”

“He was a good customer,” Desperado agreed.

“That explains it,” Belle said in relief. “We're discussing two different men. My Hackett was sober and saved every penny so we could buy a ranch. And he didn't spend money on the Three W's.”

Belle felt her anger dissolve into the usual feeling of loss when she thought of her former fiancé. She simply couldn't, and wouldn't, equate the man who visited Wildcat Falls with the man who had professed to love her so much that he couldn't stand to be apart from her. Only the saving of lives took him away. He'd planned to marry her as soon as he'd saved enough money to buy them a little spread in Texas. She'd been saving money, too. Tex was going to throw in with them and help build their ranch.

When Mercy put his arm around her shoulders again, Belle glanced at him. She didn't care for the sympathy she saw in his face, but she appreciated his concern. Still, she didn't need it. Maybe Hackett wasn't perfect, as she'd always thought, but he was still the man who'd loved her and wanted to spend his life with her. She wouldn't let others tarnish his memory.

“Whether Hackett was saint or sinner, Belle's fiancé or a stranger, he's not our trouble right now,” Mercy said. “I've finally found Diana. I want to get her away from Ballard and make sure she's all right.”

“And I want justice,” Belle said. “I've tracked that pacer a long time.”

“Please, do not think for one moment that we would stand in the way of justice,” Adella said, “but there are two sides to most stories.”

“Truth will out,” Desperado agreed.

As Diana and her kidnapper walked closer, Belle felt Mercy's fingers tighten on her shoulder. She felt a spurt of jealousy. He'd come a long way to rescue his friend. She couldn't help wondering how much he felt for Diana. She was a great beauty, even if she appeared tired and disheveled, a woman who'd make any man look twice.

She patted Mercy's hand in encouragement. “We found her in time. She's alive.”

Mercy smiled at her. “Thank you. If not for your tracking abilities, I'm not sure—”

“I'm sure. You'd never let down a friend.”

“Now let's make sure she's safe.” He lowered his arm and dropped his hand to his Colt .44.

Belle positioned her reticule in her lap so she could reach her six-shooter. She didn't expect Ballard to go down easy, but he'd go down.