Alton looked more confident and relaxed in his usual position behind the bar. The Desert Oasis was crammed to the walls tonight. Slocum nursed a drink and studied the men in the room. The thought came that one of them might be the bank robber or his partner. The notion that two men were out there working to rob the town bank gave Slocum pause, though.
If Williams was telling the truth about the first robbery being as much as ten thousand dollars, why had the robber stuck around? There could be nothing left in the bank vault. Yet the robber had made a second robbery attempt. This one had resulted in Delgado getting shot, but the attempt itself was what intrigued Slocum. It was as if there was something still in the bank other than money that the robber wanted.
The robber and his partner were as mysterious as they were dangerous. Were both of them in the saloon tonight? Slocum knew it would be smart if they were. The only reason he could think for the robber to remain was that he lived in Dry Water. Even as this thought crossed his mind, he found himself doubting it. The two dead robbers had not been locals. Why should the third be? And maybe the fourth?
Slocum knocked back his whiskey and let it burn all the way down to his belly. It took away his aches and pains and made him feel downright sociable.
“You want another, Slocum?”
“Hit me,” Slocum told the barkeep. Alton poured, running the amber liquid right to the rim.
“Just for you,” Alton said.
“You think we could get a new posse to go out again?” Slocum asked. The bartender turned pale at the thought.
“Could, but why bother?” Alton took a quick pull on the bottle to get a little Dutch courage. “We run that varmint off. Didn’t we?”
“We didn’t find him, and the contents of the strongbox from the stage were gone.”
“Couldn’t be anything too important,” the barkeep declared. “We run him off, Slocum. I know it.”
“Could be,” Slocum allowed, seeing how uncomfortable Alton was with the idea of being a deputy again on another ride into the countryside. “Then, there’s plenty of crooked dealings here in town.”
“You don’t have to live here long to know that, do you?” Alton chuckled and leaned forward to talk to Slocum in a conspiratorial whisper. “I declare that mayor of ours is as crooked as a dog’s hind leg.”
“The mayor? I thought you meant Williams. Aren’t the two of them in cahoots?”
“Sure thing, they are. I suspect Judge Tunstell is throwed in with ’em, too.”
“Doing what?”
“Can’t rightly say, but it must be important. There’s not a living soul in Dry Water that’s not seen the three of them arguing. If anybody gets too close, they stop and pretend to be buddies.”
“Could be something to do with the miner. What do you think of him?”
“Cal? What I think of him is that he don’t pay off what he owes me too often. No skin off my nose havin’ him in the hoosegow.”
“He’s not rich?”
“Whatever gave you that idea, Slocum? He gets by. That’s about it. That claim of his yields enough gold to keep him from starving, but barely.”
This was about what Slocum had figured. Bennigan hardly looked to be living in the lap of luxury. If it wasn’t the man’s mine that Williams and the rest wanted, what was it?
“Slocum! Hey, Slocum, the judge wants to see you. Right now.”
Slocum looked at the man in the doorway and waved him over. Morris, the judge’s clerk, came quickly on bowed legs.
“You tell him. I was here?”
“Naw, he knew. He’s kinda pissed that you didn’t report straight to him when the posse got back.”
“Why don’t you keep my place for me?” Slocum said, slapping the man on the back. “Alton’ll take good care of you.”
Slocum left the smoking saloon and stepped into the crisp desert air. He sucked in a deep breath and knew he could no longer put off reporting to Judge Tunstell everything that had happened. Going to the courthouse felt like climbing the steps to the gallows. Slocum wondered why he felt this way when he had done nothing wrong.
He just hadn’t found out anything worthwhile.
“Get on in here, Slocum. Shut the door,” the judge bellowed. The thin-as-a-rail man impatiently waited for Slocum.
“What can I do for you, Judge?”
“Dammit, man, you know. Did you get the papers back?”
“I found the strongbox in the robber’s camp…but it was empty.” Slocum shook his head.
“No hope of tracking that son of a bitch?”
“Nope.”
The judge sank down into his chair, grumbling to himself. He finally straightened and leaned forward.
“If I thought for an instant you were double-dealing me, Slocum—”
“What would you do?” Slocum was at the end of his rope. He was not the judge’s lackey to be bullied.
“You wouldn’t want to know.”
“I’ve got places to go, Judge,” Slocum said, standing.
“Shut up and sit down. I haven’t dismissed you.”
Slocum stared at the man. The judge had been unfailingly formal and polite before. He was being eaten alive by something now, and it had to do with the papers that had been lost in the robbery.
“What were the papers, Judge? What made them so all-fired important?”
“I’m not sure telling you would serve a purpose.” The judge stared at Slocum, then said tiredly, “That’s wrong. It will serve a purpose. It’ll keep you around. Don’t walk out on me yet. Please, Mr. Slocum.”
Slocum sat down and waited for Tunstell to get his thoughts in order. It took longer than it should have for a man as clever with words as the judge.
“The papers were the original documents for Bennigan’s mine. We’re trying to foreclose on him and have to get legal approval from Sacramento.”
“That’s mighty odd,” Slocum said. “This is all within your bailiwick.”
“Normally. Not this time. I want everything to be absolutely correct. Now that the papers are lost, I have to find some other way of removing Bennigan.”
“Buy him out.”
“We’ve tried. He’s got this idea that the mother lode is just a few more inches away, and if he keeps working his claim, he will find it eventually.” Tunstell shook his head. “There’s no mother lode. Not a one of the other mines turned up even a fraction of the gold Bennigan has already taken from his hole in the ground.”
“Then why do you want it?”
“We have our reasons.”
“We? You, Williams and Grierson?”
“I represent a group interested in Bennigan’s property for reasons other than mining. Leave it at that, Mr. Slocum.”
“So the lost papers mean you can’t boot him off his property?”
“I need to get copies of the papers. I’ve wired for them to be prepared and sent, but it will take some time. If Bennigan would cooperate, we could construct the papers here.”
“He’s no fool. He knows he’ll be left out in the cold.”
“Do you know who the robber is, Mr. Slocum?”
“I thought it might be somebody local but that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense.” Slocum wondered if he should tell Tunstell that he suspected the stagecoach robber was none other than the mayor. Whatever deal the banker, mayor and judge had, they were actively trying to screw each other out of it for their own gain. There seemed no decent reason to voice his suspicions. Either Tunstell knew his partner was working against him or he at least suspected.
“Go tell whoever’s watching Bennigan to let him go.”
“You’re not keeping him under lock and key?” This surprised Slocum.
“Since the papers are lost, it’s going to be a week or more before I can get official copies. No need putting the town to the expense of guarding Bennigan.”
“You’ll have to pry him loose from his claim all over again, eviction or not from the capital.”
“I’m aware of that. I keep thinking there might be some other way of dealing with Mr. Bennigan.”
Slocum knew what way Williams wanted him dealt with. He started to ask if Tunstell had the same fatal end in mind and then shelved that, too. Again, if Tunstell didn’t know the caliber of his partners, he was stupider than Slocum gave him credit for being.
Slocum studied Tunstell for a moment. Whatever scheme the judge had in mind, he knew he was part of it.
“The sooner he’s sprung from jail, the better he’ll like it.”
“Go on, Mr. Slocum. Tend to it. I doubt the late hour will matter to him.” Tunstell turned back to the stacks of paper on his desk, slowly thumbing through a sheaf. He paid no further attention, so Slocum left.
Again the sharp night air cut at his lungs, invigorating him. He walked quickly to the jailhouse and went inside. Tunstell’s law clerk was standing watch. If sleeping with his head on his crossed arms could be called watching. Slocum didn’t bother waking Morris. After all, he had brought the message from the judge earlier. That probably tired him out. He suspected Tunstell worked him all day and then forced him to stand guard at night.
Taking the keys off the peg on the wall, Slocum opened the door into the cell block. Calvin Bennigan lay with his back to the cell door. He came awake when Slocum rattled the keys and fumbled a mite getting the cell door open.
“You can go,” Slocum announced.
“Wha? What’s going on? Why you lettin’ me go?” Bennigan looked around, eyes wide with fear.
“Nobody’s going to gun you down for trying to escape,” Slocum said. “If you want, I’ll ride with you back to your claim.”
“You’re ’bout the only one of these owlhoots I trust. Am I wrong?”
“No, you’re not,” Slocum said tiredly. He had ridden a goodly distance today and his eyelids were threatening to fall shut at any instant.
“I can go? No shit?”
“No shit,” Slocum said.
Bennigan pushed past, then hesitated. He eyed Slocum suspiciously. “You don’t want nuthin’ from me?”
“I’d like an answer to a question, but you don’t have to give it to me unless you want to.”
“What’s the question?”
“Why do the Dry Water city fathers want your mine so bad? By all accounts, it’s not making you rich. There aren’t any big claims out there. Fact is, you’re killing yourself to eke out a living.”
“Gold,” Bennigan said, his eyes glowing as brightly as the metal itself. “It’s always about gold. Soon as I pump out the lower level of the mine, I’m sure I’m gonna hit it big.”
“Your mine’s flooded?”
“Happens,” Bennigan said. “But I got a rebuilt pump, and I know there’s a ton of gold waitin’ there for me.”
“Good luck getting to it,” Slocum said.
Bennigan still hesitated, then edged away as if he thought Slocum might try to shoot him in the back. He got to the door leading to the office, turned and bolted. Slocum followed. The law clerk moaned softly in his sleep. Slocum couldn’t tell if it was a nightmare or a good dream. He scribbled a quick note for Morris, telling him to report to the judge and verify that it was all right to release Bennigan.
This time the air did not revive him the way it had before. Slocum knew he was reaching the end of his rope. He wasn’t bunked down in the courthouse anymore, not since he got himself patched up. He had been sleeping in the stables. That was as good a place to go curl up as any. In the morning he could see Marshal Delgado and find how he was doing. With a little dickering, he might be able to buy Conchita from him. Slocum marveled at how such a broke-down-looking horse could be so strong and steady.
“Delgado,” he mumbled to himself. “Ought to see him.” A slow smile came to his lips. There was someone else he ought to see. If he waited until morning, he wouldn’t have a chance since she would be in the schoolhouse with a horde of urchins screaming for her attention.
Slocum veered from going to the stables and headed for Mrs. Harmon’s boardinghouse. As he neared, Slocum saw furtive movement under Angela’s window. His six-shooter slid easily to his hand. Step by cautious step he advanced to see who might be peeking into Angela’s room. When he got close enough, he saw that he had it all wrong. Someone wasn’t looking in, someone was climbing out.
From the rustle of skirts, he knew it had to be Angela escaping Mrs. Harmon’s Argus-eyed watchfulness. He wouldn’t put it past the old woman to sleep in the front room with one eye propped open.
Slocum holstered his six-gun and walked slowly in the shadows on the opposite side of the street from Angela. The woman worked her way toward the courthouse, moving as stealthily as an Indian. He was not too surprised to see the woman go to the mayor’s office window. She stood and peered in, then ducked back.
Stride lengthening, Slocum went to her but she had already moved on. He thought he knew where. Not slowing, he circled the courthouse and found her trying to find a spot to get through the bushes under Judge Tunstell’s window. Unlike the mayor, the judge had his window open. Perfect for eavesdropping.
“Nice night, isn’t it?” Slocum said softly. Angela jumped as if he had stuck her with a pin.
He also saw the way her hand moved to the folds of her skirt and remained there, even when she saw who had spoken.
“You scared me, John. Sneaking up on a body is not good. I do declare.” She fanned herself with her left hand. Her right never budged from her side and the thick folds of cloth in her skirt.
“You don’t have to shoot me,” Slocum said.
“Whatever are you saying?”
He moved faster than she could, grabbing her wrist and pulling her hand into sight. A derringer gleamed silver and deadly in the pale moonlight. She struggled for a moment, then relaxed.
“A girl’s got to protect herself,” she said. “Even in a peaceable town like Dry Water.”
“Not so peaceful lately,” Slocum said. “Two bank robberies, a robber killed in the jail and another shot dead while trying to rob the bank, a man murdered in the street, a stagecoach robbery. Not peaceful at all.”
“It’s a good thing you came along, then,” she said, moving closer to him. She pressed so closely Slocum could catch a whiff of her perfume. Her chestnut hair caught moonbeams and turned them into a glory of colors. She tipped her face up to his and half closed her eyes. The way her lips parted left nothing to the imagination.
Slocum kissed her. She crushed herself to him. He felt her tender breasts mashed between them and her entire body quivering with need.
He broke off the kiss and looked up.
“The judge isn’t in his office. He’s probably over at the first office you tried to eavesdrop on.”
“John, I never—”
“You did.” He kept hold of her wrist with the derringer still clasped in her hand and pulled her away from the courthouse until they were hidden behind a woodpile. “What did you expect to overhear?”
“I thought I heard something moving in the bushes. A varmint, maybe.”
Slocum said nothing. It was a feeble excuse when they both knew what she had intended. He was not sure he wanted a real explanation as much as for her not to lie.
“Come along. You haven’t seen it yet.”
“Where are we going?” Slocum found the grip reversed. She held his wrist now and pulled him along behind her like a balky child.
“I haven’t shown you my schoolroom.”
“Saw the inside of one once.”
“That’s what I thought,” Angela said. “You need some more instructing.”
“Do I, now?” Slocum laughed and let her guide him up the steps and into the darkened classroom.
“My desk,” she said breathlessly. Slocum thought she had run short of air as she headed briskly up the last few steps, but he saw how wrong he was as she hurried to the front of the classroom and was bathed in the moonlight angling through a window.
The silvery light caught bare skin. As she walked, Angela stripped off her blouse and tossed it aside. Her breasts swung gently as she moved. The nipples were dark, almost bloodred in the light. She unfastened her skirt and stepped out of it, naked except for her high-button shoes. Angela turned toward him and perched on the edge of her desk. Her legs separated a little, casting shadows in the most beguiling places.
The chestnut thatch between her legs looked dark and inviting, but not as inviting as the woman’s lips. She pouted just a little, then licked her lips. She left liquid silver behind as her tongue vanished back into her mouth. But Slocum found himself staring at her breasts as she cupped them in her hands.
Bouncing gently, she stroked from base to tip, then tweaked hard. She groaned.
“I want you doing this, John. I want to feel your mouth all over my breasts. I want to feel more here.” Her right hand slipped slowly from her breast down across her belly to the tangled forest hiding her nether lips. She began stroking slowly, deliberately. Every stroke across those gates to her sex caused Slocum to get a bit harder.
He discarded his gun belt and started unbuttoning his jeans. Walking was more difficult for him as the jeans slid down his legs and hobbled him, but his erection was freed and bucking like a bronco.
Angela’s bright eyes fixed on that massive staff. She reached out and took him in hand. Tightening her grip just a little encouraged him to step forward and push his hands into her breasts. The soft, warm flesh flowed under his questing fingers until he caught both nips and began squeezing down on them.
This produced an instant response in the woman. The hand circling his manhood tightened. And she began running her finger in and out of herself, moaning louder now.
“What lesson does the teacher want to give today?” Slocum asked.
“I’ll answer any questions you might have.”
“How tight are you?” Slocum let her guide him to where her finger had been stroking just seconds before. Angela hopped up on the desk, sending papers cascading to the floor. She leaned back on her elbows and hiked her feet to the edge of the desk. Her knees parted, giving him full access to her most intimate region.
He slid forward an inch more. Both of them trembled in reaction.
“More, John, I need more. Fill me up!”
He stroked over her breasts, down between them, then around her body and under until he could grab a double handful of ass flesh. He lifted and scooted her toward him.
As she moved, so did Slocum. He sank deeper into her heated, moist interior. A lewd squishing sound filled the empty schoolroom. Slocum gripped her behind even tighter and began stroking. Every thrust took him just a little deeper into her smooth, wet, hot core.
She began thrashing about, impaled on his fleshy spike. Her legs curled up until her knees were almost pressing into her chest. Slocum had to change his grip. He slipped his hands around and went up to where he could hold her by the shoulders. This kept her from sliding away with his increasingly furious stroking.
Together they moaned and strained. Slocum pulled her down powerfully around him and she began rotating her hips to stir him around in her interior. Before Slocum realized it, he felt the white-hot tide rising within him. When Angela gasped and tightened around him, this was as much as he could take. He shot his load.
For what seemed an eternity they were locked together in mutual pleasure, and then they slipped apart. Slocum stood at the edge of the desk, staring down at the naked woman. Moonlight turned her into something angelic. The skin was whiter than marble, but no stone had ever been so warm and enticing. Slocum reached down and pressed a hand into her breasts. Angela put her hand on top of his to keep it there.
Her eyelids flickered open and a smile came to her lips.
“You’ve learned everything I can teach you,” she said. “You get an A plus.”
“I don’t know,” Slocum said. “I might have to be kept after school.”
“But you weren’t bad,” Angela replied.
“Remedial lessons,” Slocum said. “I may need some remedial lessons.”
Angela was the one to give them to him.