Beauty and the Bounty Hunter (31 page)

“So you put a bounty on her?”

“I don’t have that kind of money.” The man’s shoulders slumped. “If I did, I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.”

“You sold her to him.”

“No.” The sheriff sighed. “I owed her to him.”

Alexi tightened his hold on the knife—whether in preparation for using it, or to keep himself
from
using it, he wasn’t sure. “Go on.”

Ben stared at his feet. “I was sent west before the war. My daddy had no patience for a boy who played cards.”

Alexi could read beneath that easily enough. Daddy Chase hadn’t sent his son west for playing cards; he’d sent him west for playing cards badly. If Ben had possessed
any talent at the game, his father would never have discovered the habit.

“I wanted to make a new start. I wanted to stop. But I…”

“Didn’t,” Alexi finished. Why was it that those who couldn’t play well were the ones who couldn’t stop, and the ones, like Alexi, who could, had little interest in continuing?

“I meant to,” Chase said. “I tried. But I was in debt to a very bad man.”

“His name?”

The sheriff lifted his gaze, hesitated, shrugged. “Larsen.”

“First name?”

“I never heard him called anything but that.” Ben’s mouth twisted. “Or
sir.
Larsen had a private poker game. Since I couldn’t gamble in any of the saloons in Rock River or leave town for long since I was the law, Larsen invited me to his table.”

“I bet he did.” Suckers were easy to spot. For those who knew how to spot them.

“I kept trying to climb out of the well I’d dug,” Chase continued. “I’d get halfway up; then I’d slide all the way down. And then some.”

“He played you.” Alexi should know.

“I was always good for some of it. I had a job. I got paid every month.”

“Exactly. If you hadn’t had money, he wouldn’t have bothered. So what happened?”

“I missed a payment, and he decided I needed a lesson.” The man’s voice lowered, and his next words came out just above a whisper. “How could I know what he’d do?”

Alexi wanted to ask: How could you not? If Larsen
hurt Ben, his payments would have been delayed while the sheriff recovered. If he killed Ben, no more payments. Ben’s brother, on the other hand…

Was expendable.

Alexi turned the knife so that the blade caught the faint light from the hall and cast shadows over the other man’s face.

“Don’t” was all Ben said, and Alexi blew an annoyed burst of air past his lips. He was right. Alexi hadn’t come here for him; he’d come for Larsen. If the sheriff died now, before he told Alexi where the bastard was, this would never end. Cat would never be safe.

“You owed the man so much it was worth killing for?” he asked.

“For Larsen,” Chase muttered, “Tuesday is worth killing for.”

“I assume you learned your lesson over your brother’s dead body,” Alexi continued, relishing Ben’s wince. “Why does he still want her?”

“Because she won’t stop!” His words bounced off the walls and ricocheted around the empty room.

Alexi waited for the echo to die before he spoke. “How is it that you got involved in making her stop?” The sheriff’s sigh caught in the middle, more of a sob really, and Alexi understood. “Even losing your brother wasn’t enough to keep you from his table.”

“I owed too much to ever pay.”

“Only Cat’s death will clear your debt.” Alexi didn’t even attempt to keep the disgust from his voice.

Chase stiffened. “She’s been trying to die since Billy did. I’m just giving her what she’s been begging for.”

Alexi was sorely tempted to give Ben what he was begging for. But not yet. “Where is he?”

Chase shook his head. Alexi showed him just how sharp the knife was.

“Shit.” Blood trickled down the man’s neck. Alexi considered where to cut him next. “Hold on.” The sheriff struggled to get away, but his back was against the wall.

Alexi allowed a small smile to blossom. He was enjoying this a little too much. “Where?” he repeated.

“You’ll never get in alone.”

“I got in here alone.”

“Larsen isn’t stupid. And
he
isn’t alone. No one will get near him but me. And whoever
I
say is Cat O’Banyon.”

“Why?” Alexi asked.

“There’ve been some brought in who aren’t. With the size of the bounty…Well, folks are grabbing females off the street. Mistakes are made.”

Alexi could imagine. How many dead women had been brought to Denver, their bodies tossed aside when it was discovered they weren’t the right body? How many had been killed for the same reason?

“I wouldn’t think he’d care about mistakes.”

“He doesn’t. But he started to get nervous that so many bounty hunters were seeing his face. There are others looking for him besides Cat. He’s not what you would call a decent man.”

“He’s not what I’d call a man,” Alexi murmured.

Ben sighed. “He sent for me, then got out of town. I’m to identify her, then bring her to him. He wants to make sure she’s really dead, either by killing her himself or seeing the body.”

“Why didn’t you run?”

Chase lowered his gaze and swallowed. “He’d find me.” Then he glanced back. “He found her.”

“Not really,” Alexi murmured. Not yet. If he had his way, Larsen would be finding nothing but his own unmarked grave long before Cat showed up.

“I’ll take you to him,” Ben said. “I’ll say you’re her.”

“What’s to keep you from telling the truth the instant we’re there?”

“I want free of him. He kills you, she’s still out there. This doesn’t end. If you kill him, it does.”

“Why didn’t
you
kill him?” Alexi asked.

Ben paled. “I…uh…”

“Never mind.” Some men were killers; some were not. Chase, most definitely, was not. How he’d managed to become a lawman was a mystery, though he hadn’t been a very good one.

Alexi didn’t trust Sheriff Ben, but as killing the man who haunted Cat’s life was why Alexi had come, he lowered his head, lowered the knife, and said, “After you.”

“What the hell?” Cat murmured, as her brother-in-law headed up the street, holding the arm of a woman who couldn’t be Cat O’Banyon, even though she might look a whole lot like her.

And Ben should know that. Which meant…

Cat had no idea. Was this the woman who had escaped the sheriff? Another one? She narrowed her eyes. Was that Alexi in disguise? She didn’t think so, but she’d been mistaken before.

If Alexi were here, Mikhail would be close by. A quick scan of the street and the rooftops revealed that nothing moved but the two figures ahead of her. Which didn’t mean that Mikhail wasn’t here. He hadn’t become one of the best trackers alive by allowing himself to be seen by his quarry.

If that were Alexi with Ben, and Cat wasn’t yet certain that it was, she had a pretty good idea what he was up to. As he’d told her, just because he couldn’t kill with a gun didn’t mean he couldn’t use a knife or his hands. She needed to stop him before he proved that and ruined everything she’d spent years working toward.

After the incident with Frank Walters, Alexi had implied that her brother-in-law might be feeding information to the man whom Cat was hunting. She had not believed him. She hadn’t wanted to. She’d trusted Ben—not completely but enough. She’d obviously been wrong.

Then again, Ben wasn’t taking
her
by the arm and leading her to her doom. He was taking someone he had to know wasn’t Cat. She needed to discover why, so she followed, keeping to the shadows of the buildings, staying far enough back so that Ben and his companion did not suspect.

The two disappeared into a stable across the street. She hesitated. Should she confront Ben now? Have him release the false Cat and take the real one wherever he was going? Before she could decide, two horses trotted out, then galloped for the distant mountains.

“Dammit!” Cat ran inside.

The place was deserted, unused for years, by its appearance. Not a horse remained to beg, borrow, or even steal. By the time Cat retrieved her mount from the front of the saloon, those she followed were nothing but specs on the gray, moon-shrouded horizon. Fortunately, she’d learned something about tracking from Mikhail. She wasn’t as good as him, but then Ben wasn’t trying to hide.

Unfortunately, the terrain slowed her down. Rocky, hilly—perhaps that was where the
Rocky
Mountains had gotten their name—the up-and-down nature of the trail, when there
was
a trail, allowed the pursued to stay well ahead of the pursuer. But Cat kept going. She didn’t have any choice.

Around midmorning of the fourth day, the trail seemed to disappear. Cat climbed from her horse, then followed a very faint sign to—

The ground fell away into nothingness just a few feet
ahead. Cautiously she approached and peered at a deep gully. A creek ran across the bottom, and several tall pine trees provided shade for two figures and three horses.

Cat’s gaze flitted around the gulch, much of which was shadowed by scrub. She didn’t see another person; though, considering the extra horse, one must be there. She had to find a way down.

However, the drop-off was, indeed, a drop-off. If Cat tried to descend from here, she’d be at the bottom in no time.

With a broken neck.

Cat led her horse along the edge of the abyss. Within minutes, she uncovered a trail.

“Devil’s Head Mountain,” Alexi murmured, earning a quick glance from Ben.

“You know it?”

Alexi nodded. It was the perfect place to hide. The area was covered in thick timber, full of gulches and caves. Rumor had it, the mountain was not only the hideout for every outlaw no one could find, but the final resting place of the same.

There were also dozens of legends about the missing treasure those outlaws had buried and never returned for because they’d been buried themselves. Though Alexi had spent a lot of time searching the location as a child, he’d never found a single stash. Hell, he hadn’t even found an outlaw. Nevertheless, those rumors remained. Alexi could probably sell a dozen land claims to imaginary gold stashes.

Something to consider if he got out of this alive.

As they’d pushed through the forest, Alexi had detected movement now and again; once he’d even heard
a horse whinny. But he’d never seen anyone. Still he was fairly certain Larsen’s men patrolled the perimeter. For now.

They’d entered the box canyon through a long, narrow rock alley, guarded by a sniper who didn’t have the sense to shade the barrel of his rifle from the sun. Alexi had spotted him immediately. Not that it mattered. The man had waved them past with hardly a glance, proving, if their safe passage thus far hadn’t already, that Ben Chase was well known to both Larsen and his cohorts.

Alexi cast his companion a worried look from beneath the brim of his slouch hat. The sheriff’s hands shook; he was sweating and far too pale. If they weren’t careful, this dodge would be over before it had even begun.

Ben dismounted, indicating Alexi should do the same with a flick of his head and a tilt of the gun he’d pulled before they got too close to curious eyes. When Alexi stood on the ground, the sheriff poked the barrel against his side hard enough to leave a mark. Alexi gritted his teeth. His time would come.

“Hello?” Chase called, peering around the area for some indication of a presence beyond the horse. “Larsen?”

“That her?” The question came from the shoulder-high scrub on the far side of the creek.

“Sure is.” The man’s voice was too high; the words came out too fast.

Alexi sighed. He hated working with amateurs.

“We’re square now.” Ben peered at the scrub, but there was no indication, beyond the voice, that anyone was there. “Right?”

“Right,” Larsen agreed. “Get out.”

Without so much as a good-bye, Sheriff Chase mounted his horse and did as he was told.

Alexi kept his gaze on the scrub, his hat tilted to the
sun so Larsen could see nothing but darkness beneath. If he could just keep the fellow believing Alexi was Cat until Larsen got close enough to touch…

And he would get close enough. Men like him always did. They just couldn’t help themselves.

When the shot rang out, Alexi started and glanced down, expecting blood to bloom across his chest. He even patted himself, searching for the hole, waiting for the pain.

A ripple of laughter emerged from the overgrowth. “Did you think I wouldn’t know?”

T
he descent was steep; Cat left the horse behind. Those on two legs could traverse it faster than those on four. Besides, horses were herd animals. The instant hers caught sight or scent of theirs, it would call out. That she did not need.

The path twisted sharply downward, eventually flattening out. Cat paused at the mouth of a narrow alley of rock. She caught the flash of sun off a gun at the top.

“Moron,” she murmured. She could only hope his aim was as bad as his ability to hide. Though—

Cat let her gaze wander over the towering gray walls. Anyone who walked between them was just begging to die. Even if the sniper missed, the ricochet wouldn’t.

She hadn’t encountered any guards on the way in, which concerned her. She’d thought there would be more hanging about. However, considering the area, they could be anywhere.

The gunshot had Cat ducking and covering her head, but the sound of a body hitting the ground made her look up. A figure lay crumpled halfway through the narrow passage. The man’s hat had tumbled off when he died, and his blond hair shone in the sun.

Ben.

She waited for a trickle of sadness at the sight of Billy’s brother lying dead on the ground. It didn’t come.
She and Ben had never been close; Billy’s death had only pushed them farther apart. Considering what she suspected—what Alexi had suspected all along—that Ben had sold her out, she could only be glad that someone else had dispensed justice before she had to.

“There’s someone out here!”

Cat hissed with annoyance as her presence was announced by the sniper.

“I had thought there might be,” came the answer from within. The words were said too loudly, and they weren’t the right words. Still, the voice
could
be his.