It was getting on toward dusk as Clint and Roper came within sight of the Wentworth house. The townspeople still had not returned to the streets. Clint didn’t know how many of them there were, or how long Gately and his men had been in Segundo. But without law nobody would go against them, and he doubted Sheriff Harlan from Trinidad would want to risk his life for Segundo.
“We better leave the horses here,” Clint said.
“She’s got to have guards,” Roper said, as they dismounted.
“I’ll circle around and we’ll come at the house from different sides.”
“How do we know where the money is?”
“I know,” Clint said. “She’s got the money. She wouldn’t trust it to anyone else.”
“All right. How long?”
“Count to sixty and then move in. I’ll be in position by then.”
“I’ll take the front.”
“Okay,” Clint said, “I’ll go in the back.”
Roper hunkered down as Clint moved to circle to the front of the house.
In fifty-eight seconds he was in position …
Gately looked at Gemma Wentworth, lying naked on her bed. For a woman in her forties she had a lovely body, full breasts and hips, smooth skin, and an appetite for sex of a much younger woman—like his whore, Katy.
He was naked, as well, standing by her bed. She was stroking his cock with one hand, murmuring to him.
“Pretty,” she said, “such a pretty thing and so sweet … come on … come to bed …”
He knew her husband was in the next room, but it didn’t matter. While his penis was so hard it didn’t matter, and while there was the money it didn’t matter. Together they would use the money to build a new South.
“Quickly,” she said, “they’ll be back soon, with the rest if the money … quickly …”
He joined her on the bed, lowered himself onto her, and slid into her steamy depths, which closed around him like a wet fist …
Clint moved in on the house, saw the soldier standing by the front door. He was one of the young ones. It was no trouble to sneak up on him and render him unconscious. He lowered him to the ground easily. He didn’t have anything to tie him with, but decided not to kill him. Maybe it would be all over before he woke. He took his pistol and rifle and tossed them as far as he could, then moved to the front door . . .
At the same time Roper moved in on the guard at the back of the house. Just one man in front, and one in back. He wondered if that meant there were more inside.
This was one of the older soldiers, who had put in his time during the war. He was trained, and started to turn as Roper go closer, but it was too late. Roper hit him over the head with the butt of his gun—something he hated to do because it could damage the weapon—and lowered the man to the ground. He took his guns and tossed them, moved to the back door, which was not locked, and opened it …
The front door was locked, but Clint was able to force it without much fuss or noise. When he was inside he moved quietly, stopped in the empty livingroom and listened. He heard the unmistakable sounds of two people having sex, and started to follow it when the kitchen door opened and Roper stepped through.
“Simon was in the kitchen,” Roper said. “I used some towels to tie him.”
“Good.”
“Sounds like someone’s busy,” Roper said.
“Let’s go see who it is.”