YUMA TERRITORIAL PRISON
A WEEK LATER
After a week in Yuma, Clint was starting to think he was going to have to break out. But he didn’t think he could do that before finding Harlan Banks—alive or dead.
As Clint approached the lone cell, he wondered if he would find Banks inside. Instead, when he reached it, he saw there was a woman inside.
“Clint Adams?”
“That’s right.”
She was in the shadows, but he could tell it was a woman. For one thing, he could smell her. No perfumes, or lotions, just pure woman. The smell was unmistakable.
She came out of the shadows and he saw she was one of the women he’d seen in the mess earlier in the week. She was slender and pretty.
“My name is Amanda King.”
“What’s on your mind, Amanda King?” he asked. “Those two guards said we have five minutes.”
“Don’t worry about them,” she said. “They’ll do what I want.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I give them what they want.”
“Don’t they get what they want from all the girls?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, “but I’m the one they don’t have to force.”
“So when they don’t want it to be rape, they pick you?” he said.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” she said. “It’s still rape. I’ve just learned to deal with it on my own terms.”
“Well, whatever works for you, I guess,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”
“I want to get out of here.”
“Why tell me?”
“Because you’re gonna break out.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you’re the Gunsmith,” she said. “You’re not gonna let them keep you in Yuma.”
“I’m in here for murder,” he said.
“So am I. Well, attempted murder anyway.”
“I was convicted of two murders—crimes I didn’t commit.”
“That’s where we differ.”
“I can’t get out of here until I’m proven innocent,” he said. “I don’t want to break out and be on the run.”
“How are you gonna prove yourself innocent if you stay in here?”
“I’ve got some people on the outside.”
“A lawyer?”
“People.”
“And they know you’re here?”
He hesitated. Ken Tohill would have been looking for him after he disappeared from his hotel. Maybe he and the sheriff would look for him. Maybe Tohill would figure out where he was. Maybe not.
Maybe Amanda King was right. He had to get himself out, and then take steps to prove his innocence.
“Okay,” he said, “say I want to get out. Say I do get out.”
“Take me with you.”
“Why would I do that?”
“You mean aside from the obvious reasons?” she asked, looking him in the eyes.
“I’m not really that anxious to rape you, Amanda,” he said.
“With you,” she said, ”it wouldn’t be rape. And I know I don’t look so great in here, but you can smell me, can’t you?”
“What?”
“I smell like a woman,” she said, “and you strike me as the kind of man who likes a real woman.”
He stared at her and then said, “You’re right about that.”
“Also, I can be helpful.”
“How?”
“Remember,” she said, “I have control of two of the guards. Maybe more.”
Clint turned and stole a look at the two guards in question. He was sure she had control of them at times, but more often than not?
“Here they come,” she said. “We’ll talk again soon. Okay?”
He stared at her hopeful look, and just as the guards reached them, he said, “Sure.”
“Okay, that’s it,” the smaller guard said. “We gotta get ’im back.”
“Come on, Adams,” Ace said, closing his big hand around Clint’s arm.
As they pulled him away from Amanda’s cell, he could see how truly frightened the girl really was.
“We’ll talk again,” he said to her. “Soon.”