Sweet Silken Bondage (9 page)

Clay immediately recognized them as having come
from Dev's hand-tooled, leather and silver belt. It was
a one-of-a-kind keepsake that he'd had made for himself while they were down Los Angeles way several
years before. "There's got to be some mistake." Clay
looked up at the sheriff, puzzled.

"I found those at the scene of the crime, and..."

"Sheriffl" Carter's excited call interrupted them. He
had been going through De's things while they'd been
talking. "Sheriff, look at this..." He pulled a thick
wad of money from the bottom of the saddlebag.

"Well, well, well." Macauley fixed an accusing glare
on Clay. "Maybe you can explain to me what your
partner's doing with over four hundred dollars cash on
him, when you haven't collected your reward for Denton yet? Where were you two or three days ago?"

"We were..." Clay fell silent for a moment as he
remembered the day they'd trapped Denton out in the
wilderness. He and Dev had been separated for about
eight hours as they'd circled around the cunning,
elusive outlaw before finally managing to trap him.
"We were south of town, rounding up Denton. Look,
Sheriff, you've got the wrong man. There's no way
Dev could have done this!"

"Then how do you explain the fact that I found
these in the very place where the bushwhacker must
have been standing? Were you and O'Keefe together
the whole time that day?"

"No...we were apart for a while when we were
closing in on Denton," Clay admitted slowly, hating to
think what his testimony was going to do to Dev's
chances of getting out of jail. He knew Dev as well as
he knew himself, and he was positive that his friend
would never kill anyone in cold blood, never.

"Then how do you know what your partner did or didn't do?"

"Because I know Dev!" he argued vehemently. "He's
not a killer!"

"Well, well just have to see what a jury has to say
about that, won't we, Cordell? I'll tell you one thing,
with the evidence we've got, it doesn't look good for
him."

"I want to see Dev now," Clay demanded.

"You can have five minutes. That's it. Leave your
gun here," Macauley instructed and then waved Clay
on to the back of the building where Dev was imprisoned.

It was a shock to see his friend locked up next to the
deadly murderer they'd brought to justice themselves
just a few days before. Denton was watching the
goings on and found Dev's situation highly amusing.

"What's the matter, O'Keefe? You gotta have your
friend Cordell come and rescue you?" the killer
taunted with obvious glee.

"Shut up, Denton, or I'll save the sheriff the trouble
of hiring a hangman," Devlin threatened angrily. He'd
been listening to the killer's abuse ever since they'd
thrown him into the cell a short time before and he'd
about had all he could take. Dev looked up then and
was greatly relieved when he saw Clay coming. "Clay!
What the hell's going on? Get me out of here!"

Clay quickly explained what the sheriff had just told
him about the silver medallions from the belt, and
Dev looked deeply frightened.

"I don't understand it," he said worriedly. "I didn't
even know the medallions were missing, let alone how
they got out to this Santana's place. Hell, I wasn't
anywhere near there!"

"I believe you, damnit!" Clay swore. "But I've got to
prove it to the sheriff. The way things look right now,
it isn't going to be easy. Just sit tight. I'll do what I
can."

Dev knew he could count on Clay. He felt a little better, but he was still scared "Clay," he begged in a
low. desperate voice, "I didn't do it! You gotta get me
out of here!"

"I know," Clay sympathized. "Just tell me where all
the money came from."

"Money? What money?"

"They just found about four hundred dollars in your
saddlebags, and it seems that money was missing from
this Santana's ranch, too."

"I didn't have any extra money in my saddlebags -"
Dev was completely dumbstruck by this revelation.

"You didn't?"

"No! Where would I get that kind of cash?" He
could see the concern clouding Clay's gaze, and he
asked, earnestly, "You believe me, don't you?"

"Of course I do. I've just got to figure out what's
going on around here..."

"Time's up, Cordell," the sheriff called, forcing him
to end their conversation.

"Right," he responded. "Look, Dev, try to get some
rest for now. Let me see what I can find out. There's
got to be some explanation."

"Ail right" Dev said slowly, already feeling caged
and restless. He watched Clay leave the jail and then
sank slowly down on the small, lumpy cot to wait.

It was dawn as Clay made his way back upstairs to
his room at the Perdition. He'd spent the last hour
going over everything that had happened to them over
the last few days, but he could find no answer to Dev's
dilemma. It seemed too pat, too simple, but oh, so
damning. The whole scenario upset Clay, for he found
himself doubting Dev for the first time in all the years
he'd known him. There was no way Dev could or would
have done it. He'd had the time and the opportunity while
they'd been apart that day, but he wan 't the kind of person to
do a thing like that. Clay allowed himself to follow that train of thought for only a few minutes before summarily dismissing it. He trusted Dev completely.
There was no way the Devlin O'Keefe he knew could
cold-bloodedly murder a man. No way.

Clay thought back to the first time he'd met Dev. It
had been nearly eight years before when he'd been
trying his own hand at prospecting. He'd had a little
success, but nothing spectacular. Then one day on his
way into town to see the assayer about a new vein he'd
uncovered, he'd been wounded in an ambush. Clay
knew he would have been killed that day had Dev not
come along and interrupted the would-be robbers in
the act. Not only, had Dev saved his life, he doctored
him up and helped him go after the two men responsible.

It had taken them several weeks to track the outlaws
down, but they finally had done it and brought both
men to justice. When they'd returned from chasing
down the outlaws, Clay had discovered that his promising vein was so poor it wasn't worth the money and
effort it would take to dig it out. So he'd sold his claim
to another miner, and they'd left the gold fields behind. He and Dev had decided then to take up their
present vocation, and they'd been working together
ever since. They were as close as two men could be.
Clay knew he owed Dev his life.

Troubled, Clay returned to his room. It was still too
early in the day to do much in the way of investigating
the charges against Dev, so he was hoping to get a few
hours of much needed rest before checking further
into the allegations. Clay did not expect to find anyone in his room, especially not Luis Alvarez, and he
stopped just inside the doorway, tensing visibly at the
sight of him.

"Alvarez..." Clay growled his name in surprise,
glaring at the man who stood so casually across the
room from him with a look of supreme confidence on
his dark, Hispanic features. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Mr. Cordell" Luis responded with a cool smile.
"I'm glad to see you finally made it back. I've been
waiting for some time to speak with you, and I was
beginning to wonder if you were going to return."

"Oh, really?" he drawled sarcastically, not believing
the gall of the man.

"Yes, I understand you and your partner ran into a
little trouble with the law last night."

"What do you know about it?"

"Why, nothing, nothing at all. Frenchie, I believe
her name was, told me what had happened, that's all."

"Look, Alvarez, why are you here?" Clay demanded, resenting his intrusion and wanting to get
rid of him. "What do you want?"

"I'm here because I wanted to repeat my offer to
you, Mr. Cordell. I want to hire you to find my
daughter."

"And I told you before that I'm still not interested in
your deal. Now, go on and get out of here." Clay's
concern for Dev was foremost in his mind, and he
wondered in annoyance if this man would ever give
up. He had refused his business proposition point
blank. He'd told him that he didn't want anything to
do with chasing down his errant daughter, and yet
here he was, back again.

Luis smiled even wider. "Ali, but Mr. Cordell, I've
raised my offer again."

"I said I wasn't interested - not at any price!" Clay
just wished the man would leave and let him get on
with what he had to do. He had to concentrate on
getting Dev out of that jail cell.

"Not even to save the life of your friend?"

Clay went completely still at the question, and he
slowly raised his gaze to meet the .Californio's. "What
are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Mr. O'Keefe. I understand he's
been arrested for murder."

"Yes, so?"

"So, perhaps there's something I can do to help you.
I am not without influence here in Monterey, you
know."

"Sorry, Alvarez. I'm not interested in bribing anyone. Dev is innocent, and all I have to do is prove it."

"Ali, but Mr. Cordell, Pedro Santana had a lot of
friends here in town, and vigilantes have been known
to storm jails and wreak their own type of justice.
Who knows if your friend O'Keefe will stay alive long
enough for you to prove that innocence?"

"Why you..." The implication of his words infuriated Clay, and he took a menacing step toward Luis.

Luis held up one well-manicured hand to stop him
as he dictated with a steely calm, "I wouldn't if I were
you, Cordell." He waited to continue until he was
certain the bounty hunter had his fierce temper under
control. When he spoke again, it was in a conversational tone, "I think it's a more than fair exchange,
don't you? My daughter returned for the life of your
friend."

"You set this up, you no-good, son-of-a-"

"As it is now," Luis interrupted his tirade, "all the
evidence against O'Keefe is circumstantial. As long as
it stays that way, I'm sure hell be safe enough in jail.
Of course, should you refuse to take my job offer,
there's no telling what other evidence might unexpectedly turn up against him."

Clay was holding himself under rigid control as he
ground out the words, "I want Dev out of that cell
today!"

The Californio's smile turned cruel. "Sorry, Cordell.
No deal. He stays put until you get back with my
daughter. Once Reina's home with me, I'll see that
your friend is cleared of all charges and released. Until
then, he stays right where he is. He's my insurance,
you see." He watched the growing anger and frustration mirrored in Clay's eyes and was pleased. "Of course, if you're not interested in taking on the job-"
Luis enjoyed power-plays, and after the way this
gringo had talked to him previously, he was taking
great pleasure in making him crawl a bit. He started
to leave the room.

Clay was trapped, and he knew it. It enraged him
that he was helpless to do anything more to free Dev,
but Alvarez seemed to be holding all the aces. In
temporary defeat, he demanded, "What do you want
me to do?"

Luis's thin lips curved triumphantly. "I have here a
small portrait of my Reina..."

Four days... We've only been on the road four days and
already it seems an eternity. Reina's thoughts were grim and
miserable as the poorly-sprung stagecoach continued to
rumble and jounce along on the last leg of its southward
journey to Los Angeles. Scrunched in between a small,
fair-haired, eight-year-old girl named Melissa and the
hard, unyielding wall of the coach, Reina struggled
miserably to keep her seat and maintain her dignity at
the same time. This was not an easy thing to do
considering that her habit, once so pristinely clean and
white, was now dusty and wrinkled, and the veil that
had once been so perfectly starched, was now wilting
pitifully in the growing heat.

"Kinda a rough ride, eh, Sister?" the grizzled, skinny,
good-natured, old cowboy named Poke who was sitting
across from her in the coach asked.

"Yes, Mr. Poke, it is a very rough ride," she agreed,
fighting to keep up her pleasant demeanor. When the
stage unexpectedly hit another big bump and slammed
her against the wall, Reina almost lost her temper with
the obviously ham-handed driver. Couldn't the idiot see
where he was going? Didn't he know how to drive? If he
kept this up there wouldn't be an inch of her body that
wasn't bruised and battered. She was about to shout at
him and tell him what she thought about his ability to
handle his horses, when Maria's words of caution about presenting the proper image at all times echoed through
her mind. Annoyed, Reina squashed the urge to put the
driver in his place. She was Sister Mary Regina now,
not Reina Isabella Alvarez.

"I done told ya, Sister, ya don't hafta call me `Mister
anything. I'm just plain Poke." He grinned at her,
showing uneven, tobacco-stained teeth.