The Outlaws: Jess (27 page)

Meg was serving a man named Simon Pool
whiskey when Arlo laid down his winning hand. A full house, aces
over tens. As he raked in his winnings, including the deed to a
valuable silver mine, Simon Pool leaped to his feet.

"Bastard! You cheated!" Pool charged. "I saw
you deal yourself that ace from the bottom."

"You can't prove that, Pool," Arlo argued.
"You're just sore because I won one of your silver mines. Cool
down, you know damn well you can afford it."

"That's not the issue. A man doesn't enjoy
being fleeced."

"I didn't cheat," Arlo maintained. He shoved
the cards at Pool. "Your deal."

"I've had enough," Pool barked. "If I were
you, Skully, I'd watch my back. Card sharks and cheaters aren't
welcome in Denver. I thought you ran a clean game."

Meg watched with trepidation, her right hand
hovering near her pocket so she could reach her pistol if it came
to that. It didn't. Pool left in a huff, aiming a murderous look at
Arlo before he charged out the door. At that precise moment Meg was
glad she wasn't Arlo Skully. It was probably a good thing he was
leaving town tomorrow.

The game broke up shortly after Pool stormed
out. Only one other man besides Arlo, who had won heavily, came out
ahead. The rest went home with empty pockets.

"That was a rewarding evening," Arlo said
after the room had cleared of all but him and Meg. "I'm going out
to look at my silver mine tomorrow. Do you want to come with
me?"

"Not on your life. We're quits after tonight,
Arlo. You got what you wanted. We had a deal, remember? I hope I
never lay eyes on you again. Good night, Arlo, and good-bye."

His eyes narrowed, Arlo grasped her arm,
obviously disliking her reply. "Maybe we aren't quits. You were
damn good tonight. We're a team. You distracted the men to the
point that my cheating wasn't apparent."

Meg shrugged off his hands. "Pool caught you
red-handed. I fulfilled my part of the bargain. If I were you I'd
take Mr. Pool seriously. I sensed a definite threat."

"He's harmless," Arlo said. "All bark and no
bite. He was sore because he lost one of his mines."

Meg shrugged. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
She turned to leave.

"One more thing, Meg," Arlo said in a voice
that made her halt in mid-step.

She turned to face him. "What?"

"I lied."

Meg froze. "About what?"

"I'm not about to break a winning team.
You'll travel with me as my partner or..."

"Or what?"

"Or I'll put your lover behind bars."

"Damn you! You promised."

"Not really. Good night, Meg."

He shut the connecting door in her face. Meg
grasped the handle and tried to pull it open, but he had already
shot the bolt. She pounded on the door a good five minutes before
giving up. Things were getting out of hand. She had no choice now
but to deal with Arlo in her own way.

Meg was rudely awakened from a deep sleep.
She assumed it was Arlo beating on the door and told him to go
away. But the pounding continued. Suddenly she was aware that
someone was calling her Mrs. Skully and she recalled that Arlo had
signed the hotel register as Mr. and Mrs. Arlo Skully. She dragged
herself from bed, pulled a wrapper over her nightgown and opened
the door.

Her eyes widened when she saw a man sporting
a badge prominently on his chest standing on the threshold. What
had Arlo done now?

"I'm Inspector Faulkner. Are you Mrs.
Skully?"

Meg hesitated. She wasn't Arlo's wife. Yet
something told her to skirt the issue until she learned more.

"What is this about, Inspector?"

"I regret to inform you that your husband's
body was found in the alley beside the telegraph office this
morning."

"He's dead?"

"That's right, ma'am. I need you to come with
me to identify the body and collect his belongings. He carried a
large sum of money on him."

Shock shuddered through Meg. "You found him
this morning?" She glanced at the window and saw sunshine streaming
through gaps in the closed drapes. "What time is it?"

"Just past noon."

"Where did you say he was found?"

"In the alley beside the telegraph office. He
must have been out and about early this morning. Walter Harper said
he was waiting for the office to open when he arrived for work. But
Harper swore he didn't see or hear a thing after he sent Skully's
telegram."

The telegraph office
, Meg thought with
alarm. "Do you know to whom he sent the telegram?"

"Yes, ma'am. He sent it to Sheriff Bufford in
Cheyenne. Seems that Mr. Skully had information about an outlaw,
which he passed on to the sheriff."

"I'll join you as soon as I dress, sheriff,"
Meg said.

"I'll wait in the hall," Faulkner said. "Take
your time."

Meg couldn't move after she closed the door.
Arlo was dead. It didn't seem possible. Someone had beat her to it.
Someone who wanted him dead more than she did. Over the years Arlo
had doubtlessly made enemies. Like Mr. Pool. Dishonest card sharks
had few friends.

At length Meg forced herself to wash, dress
and roll up her hair into a semblance of order. Fortunately she
wasn't hungry so missing breakfast was no big thing. Some thirty
minutes later she opened the door and stepped into the hall to join
the inspector.

A short time later Faulkner ushered her into
the funeral parlor. The stench of death hit Meg like a fist to the
gut. All she could think of was getting out of there...fast.

"Where is he?" Meg asked.

"This way, Mrs. Skully," the undertaker said,
showing her the way into a bare room that held a table with a body
laid out upon it.

The body was covered with a sheet; all that
was visible were bare feet protruding out one end. Faulkner grasped
her elbow as the undertaker prepared to lift the sheet. "Are you
all right, Mrs. Skully?"

"Yes, just get on with it."

The sheet was lowered and Meg stared into the
lifeless face of Arlo Skully. She couldn't recall how many times
she'd wished him dead over the years, but the reality was still
stunning.

"How was he killed?"

"A knife through the heart. Neat and silent.
The killer was obviously skilled. Have you seen enough?"

"Yes. That's Arlo Skully. Is there anything
else you need to know?"

Faulkner guided her away from the body. "I
have a few questions. Did your husband have enemies?"

"He was a professional gambler. Not a
particularly honest one. Does that answer your question?"

"Can you name the people who attended the
card games he held in his hotel room?"

"No," Meg lied. "I wanted no part of that
life. We had separate rooms. If you must know, Inspector, I was
going to leave Mr. Skully today. We both had agreed upon a
separation. Anything else?"

"No, you're free to go. I doubt we'll ever
find his killer."

The undertaker, bearing a bundle in his arms,
came bustling over to them. "Here's Mr. Skully's belongings.
Inspect them if you'd like. There's a great deal of money
involved."

Meg dutifully untied the parcel of Arlo's
clothing. Inside were his watch, various pieces of jewelry, and a
purse containing all the money he'd won the last two nights. The
deed to the silver mine was conspicuously missing.

"I'd like to pay for the burial now," Meg
said. "I'm leaving Denver as soon as I can book passage. Maybe even
today. There will be no formal funeral, Mr. Skully had no friends
in town."

"I reckon that can be arranged," the
undertaker said. "Thirty dollars should cover the pine box and
burial fees."

Meg counted out the money into his hand and
bundled the rest up inside Arlo's clothing. "Am I permitted to
leave town, Inspector?"

"There's no reason for you to stay," Faulkner
said. "Besides, it might be a good idea. Until your husband's
killer is found, you could be in danger."

That notion, though it made sense, was not
comforting. "Thank you. I agree wholeheartedly."

Meg hurried back to her hotel room and locked
the door behind her. Then she entered Arlo's room through the
connecting door and made a thorough search of his belongs. It was
just as she thought, the deed to the silver mine was missing. The
implication was startling. Mr. Pool was behind Arlo's murder and
she could be the next victim.

Meg set the bundle of Arlo's clothing on the
bed with the money intact and left the room. She wanted nothing to
do with Arlo's ill-gotten gains. She packed her carpetbag, placed
her guns inside, and left the hotel through the back door. She felt
no guilt at skipping out without paying for she'd left a small
fortune behind to cover the bill.

The moment Meg heard that Arlo had sent a
telegram to Sheriff Bufford, she knew she had to return to
Cheyenne. It didn't matter if Jess no longer wanted her, she had to
be there to lend him support. It was her fault Arlo had exposed
Jess, and she wasn't going to sit idly by while he was tried and
convicted for a crime he didn't commit.

Meg learned that the train to Cheyenne was
due in at six-thirty the following morning. Having nowhere else to
go, she settled down on a bench in the depot to wait.

Zach barged into Jess's office with an
agenda. Jess knew it the moment he saw the mutinous expression on
Zach's face. Fortunately his office was empty. Most the men in town
had joined the posse after the recent back robbery and those who
were left had other things on their mind besides visiting the
doctor. Even the women and children seemed to be caught up in the
excitement.

Jess was glad for the breather. Since Meg had
left, it seemed as if the heart had gone out of him. Even his
practice seemed dull, as if something vital had gone from his life.
Yet he couldn't bring himself to react to Meg's disappearance with
anything but anger and self pity.

Now here was Zach again, looking fully
prepared to do battle on Meg's behalf. Jess knew that Zach was
going to demand that he go to Denver after Meg and he was half
convinced to do it. Especially after he'd received the envelope
containing the pieces of his wanted poster. But his damn pride kept
getting in the way.

"I expected to find you all packed and ready
to board the next train to Denver," Zach said as he charged into
the reception room.

"What good will it do? Obviously Meg prefers
Arlo Skully."

"Damn fool," Zach muttered. "No help for it.
I'll have to go myself. That little gal means the world to me. I
won't let Skully hurt her again."

"You're not going," Jess argued. "I'll go. I
don't want your death on my conscience. Stay here with Mary and
plan your wedding."

"Can you be ready to leave on the train
tomorrow?"

"I'll be ready, but don't expect miracles. I
won't force Meg to leave if she wants to stay with Skully."

"Meg loathes Skully, trust me. Thanks, Doc,
you won't regret this. I hate feeling helpless. I'm no longer the
man I once was. But bad heart or not, I would have gone after
Meggie if you had refused."

Meg stepped off the train and pulled the
collar of her traveling jacket up over her ears to ward off the
brisk wind blowing in from the north. Summer was coming to an end
and there was a definite chill in the air. She paused on the
platform, clutching her carpetbag and pondering her next move. She
supposed she should go directly to the jailhouse to learn Jess's
fate. Squaring her shoulders, she silently prepared herself to view
Jess behind bars.

The streets seemed unusually crowded, Meg
thought as she passed knots of people engaged in conversation.
Something was afoot. Was it news of Jess's arrest?

Meg hurried down the sidewalk, her heels
clicking a hallow tattoo against the wooden boards. When she
reached her destination, she opened the door and stepped inside.
Deputy Taylor was sitting in the sheriff's chair, resting his feet
on the desk. His feet came down to the floor with a bang the moment
he saw her.

"Miz Lincoln! I thought you left town."

"I came back. Where's the sheriff?"

"You haven't heard? Two masked men robbed the
First Union Bank. The sheriff left with the posse after it happened
and hasn't returned yet. He swore he wouldn't return without the
men who shot and killed Bill Bicks over at the telegraph office.
The poor bast...er man, caught a stray bullet as he stepped outside
the Western Union office to investigate the ruckus. He died
instantly."

"I didn't know," Meg said, stunned by the
news. "I'm sorry about Bill Towers. Did he have a family?"

"No, he was a bachelor. What are you doing
here? Doc Gentry and Zach Purdee have been worried sick about
you."

"Zach's back?" Meg said, her face alight with
genuine pleasure.

"Returned a few days ago. You probably
haven't heard, but he inherited a small fortune. Him and Widow
Dowling are planning a wedding."

That was indeed good news. "How...how is
Doctor Gentry?"

"Haven't seen him since the robbery. He's
kept to himself since you took off." He sent her a quizzical look.
"Doc said you two were gonna get hitched. Congratulations."

"Yes, well..." She dropped the uncomfortable
subject for she had no idea where she and Jess stood now. "How long
has the sheriff been gone?"

She wanted to ask about the telegram but
didn't dare. Had it gone astray?

"Four days now. His mail's been piling up.
Some new wanted posters came in and a couple of telegrams. Didn't
read them, thought they might be personal."

"New posters, you say?" Meg asked casually.
"Mind if I have a look?"

"Sheriff Bufford never objected so I reckon
it's all right with me. Sit here," he said, vacating the sheriff's
chair. "The posters are all together in that packet. Look all you
want, though I don't suppose it will make either old Zach or Doc
Gentry happy to have you traipsing off after another outlaw."