TW12 The Six-Gun Solution NEW (17 page)

"Somebody got to him," said Lucas.

"Apparently."

Lucas looked worried. "That might explain why Neilson didn't make any contact," he said. "Our cover might be blown already."

"How? We haven't done anything to tip anybody off," she said. "We've only just arrived in town."

"Maybe we were recognized," said Lucas. "There are people in the Network who know who we are. If one of them spotted us when we came into town, our cover could have been blown right there and then."

"I suppose that's possible," Andre said. "Only if that's the case, what would be the point in hushing up the deaths of those Observers? That would only put us on our guard."

Lucas shook his head "You're right. It makes no sense. And how the hell could they get to everyone so fast and make sure nobody talked about it?"

"They were late getting to Mehan," Andre said.

"That makes no sense, either," Lucas said, with a frown. "You'd think he would've been the first one they'd warn to keep his mouth shut. And the fact that they could do that, whoever they are, would presuppose that they control the entire town. That doesn't seem possible."

"Maybe it doesn't seem likely," Andre replied, "but it's not impossible."

"That would mean that this whole town is a Network operation," Lucas said. "I can't believe that. There's got to be some other explanation."

"I'm open to suggestions." Andre said.

Lucas sighed heavily, "Yeah. The trouble is. I haven't got any. Did you talk to Finn?"

She shook her head. "I saw him going into the Oriental Saloon shortly before I went to dinner. He was with a couple of cowboys, so I didn't try to make contact."

"And he didn't make contact last night?" Lucas asked, with concern.

Andre shook her head. "No. But then he could have gotten into an all-night poker game or picked up a lead on a job at one of the ranches that the rustlers work out of."

Lucas shook his head. "I don't like it. He should have made contact by now."

"There's got to be a reason why he didn't," Andre said.

"Maybe he learned something that warned him off."

"Or maybe something happened to him," Lucas said. He struck the bed with his fist. "Damn it! We only just got here and already things are out of our control! What aren't we seeing? What don't we know?"

"Whatever it is, we're not going to find out now," said Andre. "You look beat. Why don't you try to get some sleep? I'll stand watch."

She reached into her carpet bag, pulled out a laser pistol and double-checked its chargepak.

"I wouldn't mind lying down for a while," Lucas said. "But I don't know if I'll get any sleep "

"Try," said Andre. "Meditate or something. All we can do now is wait, anyway. Something's bound to break. And I don't need you tired when it does."

"Okay, you've got a point," said Lucas, lying back on the bed. "I'll try to get some rest. But I'd feel a lot better if I knew what Delaney was doing."

Moments later, he was fast asleep. Andre sat down in a chair and put her feet up, holding the laser pistol in her lap. She kept close watch on the windows and the door. Something wasn't right. She had the nagging thought that if she could just back off a bit and look at it a certain way, she'd see it.

She sighed. "Come on. Finn." she whispered, softly, so as not to disturb Lucas. "Where are you?"

"Dealer takes two," said Finn Delaney, dealing himself two cards. "It's your bet, mister."

"Well, let's see if we can't make this interesting," said Stone, putting down his bet.

"Feelin’ sure of yourself, are ya?" said Delaney.

The gambler smiled. "Confidence is half the game."

"Luck is the other half," said Finn. "I'll see you and I'll raise you ten."

"Too rich for me," said one of the players, folding.

"I'm out," said another.

"Luck, is it? I thought it was skill," said Stone, his eyes twinkling. He matched Finn's bet. "Call."

"Three of a kind," said Finn, putting down three eights.

"Sorry, Mister," said Stone. putting down his cards. "Three ladies." He reached for the pot.

"And two aces make a full house," said Delaney, putting down his last two cards.

"Son of a bitch," said Stone.

"Whoo-eee!" said one of the other men, clapping Delaney on the back. "That's the way to play 'em!"

"Drinks on me, gents." said Finn, gathering up the pot.

"Looks like it's your lucky night, cowboy," Stone said. He gathered up the cards. "Tell you what. I'll cut you for that pot you just won. Double or nothing."

"No, not me," said Finn, with a smile. "I might believe in the luck of the Irish, but not enough to push it."

Stone smiled. "Suit yourself. We'll have to play again sometime. Give me a chance to get some of that money back. Unless you're just passing through."

"No, I think I'll stick around a bit." said Finn, as the others got up from the table. "You go on and get your drinks, boys, and tell the bartender I'll take care of it," he said.

"Thanks, mister."

"Where you from, cowboy?" the gambler asked.

“Oh, all over," Delaney replied, "guess I'm what you'd call a drifter. I never seem to stay in any one place too long. What about yourself?"

"Boston," said the gambler.

“Boston? Is that right?"

"Ever been there'?"

"Yeah, back in another life." said Finn. He smiled. The gambler seemed to hesitate a fraction of a second before he smiled back. "Got some of the finest food around in Boston. The old Oyster House by Faneuil Hall.”

"I know it well. What brings you to Tombstone?"

"The wind, my friend, the wind," Delaney said. "I just follow where it blows me."

"You seem to have a touch of the romantic in your soul," said Stone. "That would be the Irish in you. A land of poets and dreamers."

"Aye, that it is." said Delaney. He grinned. "It's lucky for me I ran into you tonight. Mr. Stone. My roll was gettin' mighty thin. I'm much obliged to you."

"Well, you can't win them all," said Stone. "And call me Ben."

"My friends call me Finn."

“It's a pleasure, Finn. Jenny! Bring us a bottle, will you, dear?"

"Well, now. I said drinks were on me," said Finn.

"Very well, I won't argue. Feel free to pay."

Finn chuckled and stared appreciatively as Jenny brought a bottle of whiskey over to their table.

"Thank you, darling," Stone said.

She smiled. "Anytime, Ben.”

They both watched as she moved off.

"Pretty girl," said Finn.

“That she is," Stone agreed. "But if you've got any ideas along that line. I'd advise you to forget them. Time was, not too long ago, she'd have been happy to accommodate you, but not since the Montana Kid arrived in town. Now she's got eyes only for him. A big, husky fellow like yourself might not be deterred by that, but I'd think twice if I were you. The Kid's one hell of a fast gun."

“Is he, now?"

"Killed two men right here in this saloon. And they knew their business, too. He's young, but don't let that fool you. The Kid is deadly."

"I'll keep that in mind," Delaney said. "Sounds like this town can get a mite rough for a man."

"Well, it isn't Boston, that's for sure," Stone replied.

"You get many killings here?"

"More than our share."

Finn fought back the temptation to ask about the dead Observers. He didn't want to ask too many questions. He was aware of Stone's light gray eyes watching him carefully, not smiling when his mouth smiled. Neither one of us are too sure about each other, are we? He thought. He had a feeling about Stone and he was pretty sure that Stone had the same feeling about him. Not quite a certainty, but close enough for government work, as they said. They were both gambling men and Finn would have bet Stone was a pro. Stone would probably have made the same bet, too. There were all sorts of telltale little things that ordinary people would have missed, things that, to a pro, couldn't really be disguised. Body attitude and language. A sense of fine control. Alert and watchful eyes, eyes that picked up much more than most people's did. But mostly, it was a feeling like two predators sensing each other. It was possible that Stone was simply the same breed of man. Capable, crafty, dangerous. Delaney knew he could be wrong. But he didn't think he was.

"Seems like a man could do all right for himself in a town like this," said Finn.

"Well, I guess it would all depend on what he had in mind," Stone replied.

Finn shrugged. "I'm in no hurry. I think I'll just sort of stick around and get the feel of things before I make any decisions. Find out
who's who around here, what sort of opportunities there are."

"There anything special that you had in mind?" asked Stone.

"I said, let
go
of me!"

Stone turned around. "Oh-oh. Looks like trouble."

A cowboy sitting at a table had Jenny by the arm and was refusing to let go. She struggled, but he was much stronger and held on firmly.

"Come on. Now, honey, don't be like that! You weren't too good for me last week!"

"That was last week!" Jenny said. "Things are different now. I don't do that anymore. Now let me go!"

"The Kid's not going to like that," Stone said.

"He around?"

"No, he went out on that posse with the Earps. And Frank Leslie rode out with the sheriff when they went back out after they brought in their prisoner."

"I said, let me
go!"

The man pulled her down on his lap, laughing. "Playin' hard to get
,
eh?

Well, I know what
you
like!" Jenny struggled as the man started roughly fondling her breast. The other men at the table were laughing and egging their companion on.

"Excuse me," Finn said, pushing back his chair. He went over to their table. Jenny was making angry, whimpering sounds as the man forced his kisses on her. "I think I heard the lady ask to be let go," said Finn.

The man stopped kissing Jenny and stared up at Finn belligerently, though he still held onto her tightly.

"What the hell business is it of yours?"

"I just don't like seeing women bullied, that's all," Finn said.

"Is that so? Well now, just what do you intend to do about it?"

"How about if I break your knees," asked Finn, with a smile.

"Hey, now! I don't want any trouble in here!" the barman shouted.

"You stay out of this, Lem! It ain't none of your concern!" shouted the cowboy.

Lem didn't seem inclined to make it his concern. The cowboy let Jenny go and stood up. He was a beefy man, as big as Finn, though heavier and not as muscular.

"Mister, you just bought into a pack of trouble."

Delaney hit him in the face with a quick, sharp blow and the man dropped like a felled tree. His three friends were on their feet in an instant. One of them swung at Finn. Delaney caught his fist in his left hand, then brought his right hand up to cover it, gave a quick, sharp twist and the man howled as his wrist bone snapped like a twig. The other man had picked up a chair and was bringing it down hard. Delaney swung the man with the broken wrist around and made him take the blow. The chair broke over the man's head and Delaney released him as he went down. The third man was reaching into the pocket of his coat.

Delaney snatched up a half empty whiskey bottle from the table and smashed it into the man's face. Whiskey, broken glass, blood and a few teeth spattered on the table as the man went down.

The man who'd swung the chair came up with a bowie knife he had in his boot. Delaney just looked at him and grinned. The man with the knife found the grin highly disconcerting. The knife made sweeping arcs in front of him as he bent over in a crouch. Cards, glasses and coins rained to the floor as Delaney picked up the table and ran it at him.

"Jesus . . . !" yelled the man with the knife as the table struck him and he was propelled back against the wall, struck it hard and remained there, pinned by the table. The knife fell to the floor. Delaney dropped the table on the man's feet.

"Yowww.”

And then Delaney struck him once and knocked him out.

“Great day in the morning!" someone said.

A few people applauded and whooped. Delaney turned and gave them a small bow.

“I’d like to thank you, mister."

Finn turned to see Jenny standing behind him.

"My pleasure, Ma'am."

“Can I buy you a drink?"

"I'd be delighted."

He glanced at Stone, who was watching him thoughtfully. Stone gave a slight smile, inclined his head and raised his glass to him.

"My name is Jennifer," the girl said. “Jennifer Reilly. What's yours?"

"Delaney. But my friends just call me Finn."

"You sure do handle yourself well, Finn Those boys can be pretty mean."

"Oh, I thought they seemed right sociable," said Finn.

Jenny smiled. Oh, dear, thought Finn, not immune to its effects. What's a heartbreaker like you doing in a place like this? One of the men behind him groaned from the floor, but made no move to get up.

"I'm afraid that coming to my rescue might have brought you trouble." Jenny said. "Those men are Johnny Ringo's boys. And they've got friends."

"I'd be happy to make their acquaintance," Finn said. raising his glass to her.

"I'm not sure you'd like that too much." she replied. "What you did was very gallant, but I don't want to mislead you. I'm spoken for."

"So I heard," said Finn. "I'd say the Montana Kid's a lucky man."

"He'll appreciate what you did for me tonight," said Jenny. "I'll be sure to tell him when he gets back to town. I think the two of you might like each other."

"Well, if you think highly of him, then I'm sure that I will, too," said Finn. He turned around and glanced toward Stone's table. The gambler was gone. He felt a light touch on his arm.

"You're pretty good with your fists there, cowboy," said a husky, female voice. "My! Strong, too!"

He turned to see an attractive young redhead smiling at him.

"Finn, I'd like you to meet my good friend, Becky," Jenny said. "Becky, this here's Mr. Finn Delaney."