My Heroes Have Always Been Hitmen (Humorous Romantic Shorts) (Greatest Hits Mysteries) (4 page)

I
finished her thought, "And the marshal wants you to marry him."

She nodded,
a little shaken that I'd figured that out.

"
Gossip goes both ways, Miss Philpot," I said.

Penny stood and smoothed her apron
. "I think you should consider leaving tonight, Mr. Bombay." She hurried off before I could press her to see if she was concerned about me.

"
Well." Jeb stretched, flexing his fingers in front of him. "I think I'd better take a nap before dinner so I'll be ready for all that hand-to-hand combat that follows you around this place."

I nodded and stood.
"Yes, me too. I'll come to your room, and we can walk down here to dinner together."

Jeb saw me to my room with a wink and
a stifled laugh. I closed the door and lay down on my bed to think. There was a lot to think about. I tried to focus on the job at hand first, but Penny Philpot kept filling my head.

I felt sorry for her. She wouldn
't have liked that, but I did. I'd lost many good men in the war, some of whom had families. Was she one of them? I tried to remember if any of my troops had mentioned a redheaded goddess.

It didn
't really matter. A war widow deserved respect regardless. She'd been very brave to uproot all that she knew to come out West and work to support her brother. In fact, it made me feel a little small. Penny came here because she had to. I came here to play cowboy like a spoiled, little kid.

And then Marshal Figgins tried to control her future, whether she liked it or not. You couldn
't do that to a Bombay. We were a very wealthy family from very old money. How out of touch was I that it never occurred to me my men's widows were now on their own to raise their families and support them? I felt instant shame over this. I would definitely have to do something about that.

Mother was always involved in charities. I would set up a foundation and have her run it. She
'd love that. In spite of her love of society, my mother was very supportive of women's issues.

Marshal Figgins was going to die. I
'd make sure of that. What kind of a man bankrupts a school teacher so that he can force her to marry him? He was a very bad man, and I needed to kill him. After all, he was already trying to kill me. It was only fair.

Penny was right
—the men he'd been sending after me all day weren't up to snuff. But tomorrow…tomorrow he was bringing in reinforcements. It was interesting that I'd only been in town twenty-four hours and, after simply asking a few questions around town, found myself the target of this man. I could take care of myself, but how many other innocent men had been murdered to temper his incredible paranoia?

I could use that. Figgins
' fear of strangers could be exploited to my advantage.
AND
, I could have the showdown at high noon I'd always wanted—which made me very happy. It wouldn't look like a contract killing at all—just a duel, instigated by a mysterious, world-weary traveler who'd had enough of Marshal Figgins. It was perfect.

But the problem was that Figgins was a cheater. He
'd most certainly set up these men coming in tomorrow to ambush me once I'd won—which of course, I would. My record with a pistol was flawless, and he didn't know that. Figgins was known for using others to do his dirty work, which told me he wasn't that accurate with a gun. Or worse, they'd try to kill me before I fired. That would suck.

So how to deal with these other men? That was the real problem.

There was a knock at the door
, and Jeb asked if I wanted supper. I grabbed my jacket, and together we made our way down to the dining room.

Penny was busy
, since every table was full. Every now and then, though, I was rewarded as she caught my eye and smiled. I smiled back when I could, and then I noticed that someone in the room was not smiling. In fact, he was staring at me with a fury I could not mistake.

Marshal Figgins was sitting at his reserved table. And he
'd noticed my attention to Miss Philpot. He also noticed her smiling at me. I stared back, practicing my menacing cowboy squint.
It begins
, I thought.

"
You really must like trouble," Jeb said quietly as he watched me.

I nodded. It
would be wrong to deny it. The marshal's jealousy did speed things up a bit. Maybe we could get this duel out of the way tonight, before his reinforcements arrived. I was just as good a shot in the dark as I was in broad daylight.

The problem with that idea was that I hadn
't done anything for him to try to arrest me. And he hadn't done anything for me to challenge him to a gunfight. Sigh. Why did everything have to be so difficult?             

"
Up for a drink?" I asked Jeb.

He nodded
. "Wouldn't miss it for the world." He cracked his knuckles as we paid the bill. No one was waiting for us outside this time. That was somewhat disappointing. I liked a little action before a showdown. I think Jeb wanted something to happen too. Instead, we made our way to the saloon unscathed.

We
'd just sat down at a table with our whiskey when Rocco, Axel, and Hank came in and joined us. I made my introductions all around, and Jeb seemed to fit in nicely. It was only a matter of minutes before the cards came out.

Rocco dealt the cards as Hank leaned forward.
"Word on the street is you got yerself mixed up with the marshal, Rio."

"
Yup," I said as I rearranged my cards. "I don't think he likes me much."

Jeb hid a grin behind his cards but said nothing.

Axel shook his head. "Well nice knowin' ya."

Rocco kicked him under the table loud
ly enough for me to hear. "Just play yer damn cards, Axel."

There was something going on here
. I waited for the next hand before speaking.

"
I hear Figgins has men comin' in tomorrow. That can't be all for me…" I feigned innocence, and the men laughed.

"
He's got some business at the border, I heared," Rocco said solemnly. "But I wouldn't put it past him to try and kick yer ass a'fore they leave town."

Han
k and Axel nodded. This seemed to be a done deal. Take out the mysterious stranger—which is me—first, and then ride out of town.

"
When are they leaving?" Jeb asked.

"
Afternoon," Hank said. "But they'll try and teach you a lesson first." He nodded at me.

"
They'll
try,
" I said. "Does Figgins always go after visitors this way?"

All three men nodded
and then looked back at their cards. Jeb wisely lost a couple of hands before slowly building a winning streak. They seemed a little put out about that. I folded and made the excuse to approach the bar for another round of drinks.

Mutton
Chops, the bartender, eyed me warily as he poured out five whiskeys. He was avoiding my eyes so successfully, I decided to talk to him.

"
Somethin' wrong?" I asked gruffly.

He set down the bottle and looked at me.
"I just think I'm looking at a dead man, friend." I had to admit…I liked how he said that. It seemed so authentic.

"
So you know how it's gonna go down, then," I said, instead of asking. The bartender nodded but offered no information.

"
Fine," I said as I carried all five shot glasses back to the table.
Fine.

The game ended after a few more rounds, and we chatted about the weather and other useless things. The bar was emptying out
, and I wondered why. It was early yet in the evening. Something was happening.

I had my answer soon enough. Marshal Beau Figgins strode through the swinging doors and went straight up to the bar, demanding whiskey. Mutton
Chops glared at me as the marshal swallowed the shot and demanded another. I did nothing.

Jeb sat back in his chair, relaxed but with his hand near his pistol. The three at our table began nudging each other nervously.

Figgins swallowed his second shot, then came over to our table and loomed over us.

"
Rocco," Figgins acknowledged. "Hank, Axel. Who are your new friends?" His voice was very deep. It was the perfect cowboy voice. Too bad it was wasted on a slime ball like the marshal.

Rocco stuck out his chin, defiantly.
"This here's Rio and Jeb, Marshal." I had to give him credit. Rocco didn't know me from Adam. He could've saved his own hide and just handed us over. But he didn't. He stood up to Figgins a little. Not much, but a little. I liked that.

"
Rio Bombay and Jebediah Smith," I said with a tip of my hat. "And you're Marshal Beauregarde Figgins…The Scourge of Texas."

The
marshal laughed. It was a long, slow, menacing laugh that made Rocco and his friends jump to their feet and flee the bar. Figgins slid out Rocco's chair and sat down in it.

"
Why are you in town, Rio Bombay and Jebediah Smith? Maybe it's time you left." Figgins fixed me with a stare that summed up his entire career of cruelty. I returned his stare with my cowboy squint. Jeb just looked amused.

I answered him.
"This seems like a real nice town to settle down in. Maybe meet a woman and start a family." I didn't need to say more. The way his eyes widened and his nostrils flared told me he knew I was talking about Miss Penny Philpot. I'd struck a nerve. Just as I'd wanted.

Jeb didn
't answer—he knew the question wasn't really directed toward him. He just waited to see what would happen, his hand never moving far from his holstered gun.

"
Well," the marshal said as he regained his composure. "You wouldn't like this town. There aren't many available women."

"
What about that lovely redhead at the hotel?" I asked as casually as I could. "She seems unattached."

I could see the steel forming in Figgins
' eyes. He was very angry now. And angry men did stupid things. That's what I was counting on.

"
You stay away from Miss Philpot, boy," Figgins spat. "And you think long and hard about getting out of town by morning."

I put on my best innocent expression
. "Why, Marshal? I haven't done anything to warrant this kind of hostility." I thought I heard Jeb's throat tighten as he suppressed a smile.

The m
arshal stood and very, very slowly and loudly, slid his chair in to the table.

"
Maybe I'll see you tomorrow then?" he said tightly.

"
Tell you what," I answered back. "Let's make it high noon. On Main Street."

An oily grin crossed the man
's features. He relaxed a little and nodded. "Sounds good."

I watched as he walked out of the saloon
and then rose to my feet. Jeb joined me.

"
Well, I guess no one will give us any trouble tonight." Jeb sighed.

"
Nope," was all I said as we made our way back to the hotel.

Penny sat down at our table at breakfast and begged me to leave town immediately. While I was happy for her concern for my wellbeing, I told her this was something I had to do. Jeb and I discussed some thoughts about the upcoming gunfight before he left me at the door to my room.

I spent the next couple of hours mentally preparing for the fight. The whole town knew what was about to happen. I could hear people talking beneath my window all morning. I cleaned my gun and double-checked my ammunition. Everything was in working order. Now I just had to wait.

Penny Philpot took up most of my thoughts. She was a unique woman. One I hadn't experienced before in the cultured salons and tailored lawns of Newport. Penny was beautiful, resourceful, courageous, and smart. And I had fallen for her.

I had no idea if she felt the same way about me. I
'd like to think she did. That she'd pack up her little brother and run off with me after the showdown. But I wasn't sure. This was a woman who'd already lost one man. It was highly likely she wouldn't want to put herself through that again.

I needed to drop this line of thinking and focus on the upcoming fight. After all, I was here to play cowboy and do a job for the Bombays.

And what would I do with Penny and Percy Philpot anyway? I couldn't just ride back into Newport with a frontier bride and her little brother. I couldn't stay here either, after killing the town's marshal.

A knock at the door brought my thoughts back to the task at hand.

"It's time," Jeb's voice said through the door.

I rose to my feet,
put on my new silver spurs, gun belt, and hat, and left my room for the street below.

The sun was blazing above us as Marshal Figgins and I squared off at opposite ends of the street.
I was a bit disappointed that he wasn't wearing spurs. He was supposed to wear jingling spurs! If he lived, I'd have to show him the novels in my saddlebag. But then that was silly, because he wasn't going to live.