The heavy pounding on the door woke Beth Arling from her light sleep. She opened one eye, frowning as the pounding continued. Damnation, she grumbled, and threw back the covers, swinging her long, shapely legs to the floor. The clock on her dressing table told her it was a few minutes after noon. Too damn early to be up and around. She felt worse for the fact that she had been indulging in her favorite dream. The dream that had been with her for a long time, and which was now close to becoming reality. Beth shrugged off the last vestiges of sleep, groping for the thin robe lying at the foot of the bed. She pulled the robe over her naked body as she made her way to the door. Turning the key she opened the door and peered wearily at the figure in the passage.
“Good Lord, you look like you seen a ghost,” she said.
Raymond Crown stepped by her without a word. He crossed the room and went directly to the small table where Beth always kept a substantial supply of drinks. His hands were trembling as he uncorked a bottle of expensive whisky, spilling it as he filled a glass. Beth, closing the door, turned and crossed the room to where he stood, watching him drain the first glass and then fill it again.
“Before you drink yourself under that table, Ray, maybe you’d better tell me what’s got you all worked up.” Beth reached out and forced his hand away from the open bottle. “Damn you, Ray, don’t play games with me!”
Raymond Crown took a couple of deep breaths. He ran a pale hand across his face. He turned to face Beth, reaching out to grasp her upper arms, fingers digging into the firm flesh.
“She’s back,” he rasped. “Goddam it to hell, she’s back. Alive and kicking, and mad because somebody tried to kill her!”
Beth smiled. “So Kopek made a mess of it? Why didn’t you listen to me, Ray? I knew I should have handled it. I must have been crazy letting you hire that drunken roughneck!” For a moment she stared at him wildly, her thoughts racing. “Does she know it was Kopek who tried to kill her?”
Raymond nodded. “But don’t worry about that. Kopek’s dead. And he didn’t talk.”
“Are you telling me Angela killed him?”
He laughed. “No. But I don’t doubt she could do if the need arose.”
“Then who killed Kopek?”
“You haven’t heard the best part yet.” Raymond said. “While Angela was in Ridgelow she hired herself a gun. He took care of a couple of Randall’s men who attacked her in town and left them in jail. He shot Kopek. And he also killed three more of Randall’s gunslingers who tried to interfere with Angela on the way in.”
“One thing about that sister of yours, Ray. She always does things right. It’s a pity that trait doesn’t run in the family.” Beth fell silent for a time. “Who is this one-man army.”
“I haven’t seen him yet. Apparently he stopped off at Deeks’ office to deliver Randall’s dead gunslingers.”
Beth laughed. “Lord, I’d have given a fortune to have seen Deeks’ fat face when that happened! Ray, the more you tell me about this gun Angela’s hired, the more I think I know who it is. Did she tell you his name?”
“Yes. He’s called Bodie.”
Beth’s blue eyes gleamed with excitement. “It couldn’t be anyone else.”
“Do you know this man, Beth?”
“I know of him,” she said. “And with a man like Bodie that’s as close as you ever want to get.”
“So who is he?” Raymond sneered.
“Bodie? He’s the best — or worst — bounty hunter ever to have picked up a wanted poster. They call him the Stalker on account of the fact that once he takes up chasing a man he never lets go. Not until he’s buried somebody. He used to be a lawman himself a few years back. Then something happened that changed him. Right after that he started bounty hunting, and the undertakers have never had it so good.”
“Great,” Raymond said. “As if we haven’t got enough trouble! With Bodie at her side we’ll never get to Angela now!”
“Just calm down, honey, and let Beth handle things from now on.”
“Yeah? How?”
“The way I’ve been handling things on my own for years,” Beth said. “Like I said before, Ray, I should have dealt with this from the start.”
“All right! All right! Don’t you start lecturing me too! It’s bad enough getting it from Angela all the damn time.”
Beth smiled at him, slipping her arms round his lean body, pressing her supple hips against his, rubbing her thighs against his groin. “I’ll bet this is one thing you don’t get from that sister of yours!” She reached up and pulled her thin robe open, exposing her full, lush breasts, dark nipples rising in anticipation. “Let me take care of you, honey,” she soothed.
A soft groan rose in her throat as his hands reached for her breasts. Beth pressed her face against his shoulder, enjoying the caress of his eager fingers. She arched her back and let the robe slip to the floor. Smiling to herself as she caught sight of her reflection in the dressing table mirror, she eased one hand down between their bodies, quick fingers opening the front of his pants. Slipping her hand inside she grasped his swollen member, running her fingers up and down the rigid length of heated flesh. Raymond moaned softly, his body jerking. He had no resistance in him when Beth guided him to the bed. She pushed him down onto the rumpled sheets and began to undress him. And then she bent over him and made love to him, her soft lips and sharp teeth teasing and tantalizing his body until he was begging her to stop. Then and only then did Beth roll onto her back, long legs spread wide for him, drawing him over her, allowing him to enter her pulsing body where he plunged frantically and uncontrollably to a swift and powerful climax, his release leaving him drained and shuddering between her legs. As always he fell asleep. Beth drew the bedclothes over them both, cradling him to her breasts, and then she began to make new plans.
First she had to have Bodie taken care of. No mistakes there. The manhunter was no raw beginner. It would take a damn good man to deal with him. Beth had such a man. If she hadn’t allowed Raymond to arrange for Angela’s death in his clumsy way, she would have used her man for that task as well. Mantee, her personal bodyguard, a strange and frightening creature, possessed skills far above anything the pathetic gunfighters crawling all over High Grade could never visualize. Beth had rescued him from death one terrible night, eight years back, in a stinking back alley in New Orleans. She had nursed him back to health, seeing in the giant mulatto a great potential. And she had not been wrong. From that moment on Mantee had become her devoted protector. Physically he fitted the job to perfection. Six and a half feet tall, superbly muscled, Mantee had lightning reflexes, tireless strength, and a total lack of feelings when it came to having to use violence on a fellow man — or woman. He also had a terribly disfigured face, the result of an accident during his childhood. It had left him with the left side of his face scarred and twisted out of shape. Shriveled scar tissue extended from his naked skull down to his neck, the taut muscles pulling his features into a permanent snarl, exposing crooked teeth. The accident had also destroyed his vocal chords, leaving Mantee dumb. Not that it made any difference to his relationship with Beth. Mantee understood everything she told him and Beth in turn knew Mantee’s every thought. Oh yes, she thought, Mantee would do very nicely. He would kill Bodie, and he would do it quickly and quietly, and that would be an end of it.
And when Bodie was out of the picture Beth would employ Mantee’s skill to complete the plan. She wanted Angela Crown out of the way too. Because Angela stood between Beth and a lot of money. A great deal of money. More than she had ever had the chance of owning in her short but exciting life. With Angela dead, her brother Raymond became the sole owner of the Crown mines, and Raymond wanted to sell the mine to Jonas Randall. Beth wanted him to sell it, because she wanted him to have the money. Then they could leave High Grade. Once they were away from the place Beth would relieve Raymond of the money, which wouldn’t be difficult.
Raymond was a weak fool. He was putty in Beth’s hands, completely infatuated by her. In his own way he was as devoted as Mantee. The only difference was that Raymond could talk and seemed to want to spend most of his time between her legs. Which didn’t worry Beth. She had learned early in life that being a woman meant she had a powerful hold over men. At first she’d been amazed at the lengths men would go to just spend a few hours in her bed. Then her devious mind had worked out that if she played her cards right she could turn that power into profit. Beth had luck on her side. She was young and attractive and she had a beautiful body. At fifteen, when she found herself alone in the world, her parents dead after a tragic fire, the cold reality of life slapped her in the face. But fate, in the shape of a hairy, smelly, middle-aged buffalo hunter turned up. He took Beth away from the burned-out ranch, wrapped her in stinking buffalo robes, and rode off with her across the snow-lashed Texas plain. At first she’d been grateful for being rescued. Two nights later the gaunt hunter had taken her to his blanket, and with a lot of grunting and sweating, despite the bitter cold, he had taken her virginity and her innocence. The first time Beth had been terrified. After that, with each passing night, she found it wasn’t so bad after all, and by the time they reached the first town Beth realized she wasn’t in such a bad way. Each time he’d had his way with her the hunter had placed a ten-dollar gold piece in her hand. On reaching the town Beth had one hundred dollars in her pocket. It was just the beginning. She learned quickly and she had a business-like mind. By the time she was twenty Beth’s bank account ran to thousands. Gone were the days of ten-dollar buffalo hunters. Beth Arling had risen in the world. Now she only chose the wealthy clients. And they were only too eager to spend their money on the blue-eyed, golden-haired beauty who wore fashionable clothes, was always clean and doused in expensive perfume. In Baton Rouge Beth befriended a forty-year-old French whore by paying off a debt the woman owed to a wealthy patron. In return the French woman taught Beth everything she knew, and Beth became aware of techniques she had never dreamed of. In the next few months Beth used her new methods, finding she was able to please and satisfy her customers ever more than before. In New Orleans she met Mantee. With him at her side she moved back out west, where gold and silver strikes were attracting men by the thousand. Barely able to count or read, many of them not even able to speak the language, they were digging their way to vast fortunes. And for many of them it was enough to spend it on drink and gambling and women. So Beth Arling began to follow the strikes. With her sharp mind and her money Beth plied her trade in her own unique way. No grubby back room for her. Nor a flea-ridden blanket in the back of a creaky wagon. When Beth arrived in a new town she would look around for a saloon to buy into. Once established she would run the place with a firm hand. No crooked gambling. No cheap drinks. She offered good value in everything, attracting a lot of custom. The rest was easy. She used the saloon to pick her clients. Any man who wanted a woman didn’t need to look any further than Beth. She charged highly but the client got his money’s worth. And one satisfied client was the best advertisement a girl needed. The men flocked to Beth’s door, offering higher and higher prices. The moment any of the towns showed signs of dying Beth would sell up and move on.
As the years slid by Beth added to her substantial bank balance. She never tired of her work. One reason was that she actually enjoyed sex. She was a woman who needed ample personal satisfaction. But even so, she was wise enough to know that it couldn’t go on forever. One day she would start to get old. And no amount of sexual expertise would make up for sagging breasts and flabby thighs. Beth saw that she was going to have to think about the later years. And the moment that line of thought crossed her mind she decided she didn’t want to wait until she was old before she quit. She made up her mind to get her hands on some really big money. Big enough so she could move out to California. Buy herself a big house and maybe set herself up in some kind of business. She had the sense to realize that to do that she would have to make a really big killing. And it was shortly after that when she arrived in High Grade. She bought a saloon from a bankrupt Irishman and set up her usual operation. She had only been there a month when Raymond Crown walked in one evening. He took one look at her and couldn’t stay away. Within a couple of days Beth knew everything there was to know about him. Plus the most important thing.
Which was his half ownership of one of the richest copper mines in the area. She also found out about the offer Jonas Randall had made for the mine, and the pressure he was putting on Raymond and his sister Angela. Randall had made an offer close on a million and a half dollars for full control of the Crown mines. Raymond wanted to sell. He hated the mining business and he hated High Grade. But his sister didn’t. She refused to even consider selling.
For Beth it was her dream come true. Here was her big killing. The kind of money she had dreamed about. So close she could almost smell it. All that stood in her way was Angela Crown. So she went to work on Raymond. Allowing him every moment he wanted with her. Which was considerable. Beth figured it worth every second. Though weak and given to self-pity, Raymond was an attractive man. At his best he might not have been the most dominant man Beth had taken to bed, but she was experienced enough to make him believe he could master her. She put on some superb performances for his benefit, writhing and moaning beneath his straining body, using every trick she’d been taught all those years ago, and through it all she was adding up the cost, smiling when she realized how little she was having to lay out for such a big reward at the end.
Over the weeks she worked carefully on Raymond’s antagonistic attitude towards his sister. Cleverly she had instilled in his mind the fact that Angela stood between him and the money that would allow him to leave High Grade. She had persuaded him, convinced him that Angela was ruining his life. And that she was stopping him from taking her, Beth, away with him. She had told him that she would never leave him. That she had to be with him. Because she needed him like she had needed no other man.
And one night, late, as they lay in her bed, bodies entwined in the heated throes of desire, Beth had offered the final solution. As she had whispered the words in his ear Raymond had jerked his head round to stare at her, his eyes wide with surprise. He had paused in mid-thrust, his whole body quivering, and a strange expression had flowed into his eyes. Beth had gripped him with her naked thighs, lifting her hips in urgent response. He had given a low, throaty moan, suddenly thrusting into her with desperate agitation. His climax had been so violent that the sheer intensity of it had driven Beth herself to her own release. Raymond had collapsed on top of her, his body shivering, gleaming with sweat, and it had been a long time before he had moved. Eventually raising his head he had stared at her again, still with that odd look in his eyes, and a wild grin had curved his thin lips. In that strange moment Beth had known, without a shadow of a doubt, that she had him. That he would agree to her suggestion to kill his sister.
The only flaw in the plan had been Raymond’s clumsy attempt to forge ahead with the plan without asking her advice. He had learned of Angela’s planned trip to Ridgelow to buy supplies, and had hired the man called Kopek to wait for Angela’s return and kill her out on the trail. Beth had been angry when he had told her, but she concealed her anger, hoping that Kopek managed to carry out the murder as arranged. But as she now knew, the plan had not gone as it should. Kopek had died. Angela had returned to High Grade, along with the man called Bodie, creating a further problem.
Sliding from Raymond’s embrace, Beth eased herself out of bed. She crossed the room and pulled back the curtain. She gazed down on High Grade’s busy street. The sooner she could leave this place the better! High Grade was beginning to bore her. The prospect of a peaceful life somewhere in California held greater appeal with every passing minute.
Beth padded across the room and rapped on the wall with her knuckles. In the next room was Mantee. Her knock brought him to the connecting door. Beth unlocked it and moved to her dressing table. Seating herself on the padded stool she picked up a brush and began to tidy her hair. She heard the door open and sensed Mantee step into the room. She carried on brushing her hair.
“Mantee, there’s something I want you to do for me,” she said. Glancing in the mirror she saw Mantee’s huge head move in a nod. “Come here,” she went on, her tone soft, gentle, as if she were talking to a child.
Mantee came and stood beside her. His great bulk seemed to fill the room. She knew he was staring at her naked body, and the thought excited her. She felt her nipples pucker, start to rise, felt the warm pulse between her thighs.
“There is a man in town, Mantee,” she said. “He is bad for me. He wants to spoil my plans. He must be removed.”
Mantee uttered a hoarse grunt. He held out one of his huge hands, clasping it into a massive fist.
“Yes, Mantee, he must die! You must do it at night, so that no one will know it was you. Do you understand, Mantee? No one must know we are involved.”
Mantee nodded. He watched as Beth stood, turning to face him. She smiled at him, reaching out to stroke his scarred face. He gazed at her in silent admiration. Beth laid her hand over his, lifting it to her breast, pressing it against the soft, warm flesh. Her nipple thrust stiffly against Mantee’s palm. He cupped his huge hand over her breast, cradling it gently, as if afraid of hurting her.
“We will never leave each other, Mantee,” Beth said. She took his hand and slid it down to the inviting softness between her strong thighs. “I will always protect you. And you will do what I ask. Always, Mantee! Always!”