Slocum 420 (14 page)

“Yeah.”

“Did you happen to look for him while you were searching the spot where those bodies were found?”

“That's what I forgot to tell you,” Merle replied. “We found some tracks that led into the woods, but they led straight across some rocky ground and through a bunch of dead leaves. I'm guessin' he didn't want to be found.”

“Covered his own tracks?”

Merle nodded. “Probably didn't want this one here tracking him down,” he said while nodding toward the prisoner. “We can keep lookin', but it won't be easy. There weren't no blood or anything else to show he was dead or badly hurt, so it may be easier to let him come back to town on his own.”

“He's probably there already,” Darryl said as he lifted the wild man from the stream. All that remained of the prisoner's skins was a few wet shreds that had gotten snagged beneath the ropes around his wrists and ankles. Hoisting the drenched, near-naked man over one shoulder, Darryl added, “I heard a thing or two about Abner. Hell of a tracker. If anyone had a better chance of finding this beast, it's him. Of course, I won't complain about this beast finding us.”

If Bennsonn had been any farther away, Slocum would have opted to stay put and continue looking for the remaining man who had been left in the woods. But since nobody had found anything to make him believe Abner was hurt, he decided to put the wild man away first and come back for Abner tomorrow.

Now that the stinking skins were gone and the prisoner was once again quiet, the ride into town was as pleasant as it was short.

When the solitary rider entered town, he didn't attract much notice. He was just another man arriving in Bennsonn on business of his own. Most of the people who looked his way didn't find enough of interest to keep their eyes on him. Those who watched him longer than that were encouraged to turn another way when the man returned their stare with cold, dark eyes.

He sat tall in his saddle, shifting his weight with every one of his horse's steps as if he'd been riding one trail or another for most of his life. He was of average height and build, wrapped in dusty clothes and a long coat that draped across his horse's back to partially conceal the Spencer rifle carried in his saddle's boot. That wasn't the only weapon on his person. A .45-caliber Smith & Wesson was strapped to his hip and a smaller .32 Colt was tucked in a holster under his left arm. The long, dark brown hair hanging to his shoulders looked more like a cropped mane while the patch of neatly trimmed whiskers covering his upper lip and a small portion of his chin gave him something of a distinguished appearance.

Although he would normally keep his head down when entering unfamiliar territory, he couldn't help looking straight ahead and studying every detail of every sight in front of him. His eyes darted to and fro, taking note of each face he passed. Instincts honed from passing through more towns than he could count brought him to Bennsonn's saloon district in short order. The first place he saw was a tall, narrow building that looked as if it had been one of the first ones built when the town was founded. A sign painted on the front window said
BARKER'S SPIRITS AND SONG.
After tying his horse to a post and making sure there was some water in the nearby trough, he patted the animal's nose and walked inside.

Although there were plenty of spirits on display behind the short bar on one side of the room, there were no songs. A piano sat next to a dilapidated stage that, in its prime, would have supported no more than three dancing girls. Now it could barely support its own weight and the piano beside it gathered as much dust on its keys as tobacco juice stains on its base. The man stepped up to the bar and waited to be noticed.

A barkeep standing no more than four feet tall approached him, stepped onto a stool behind the bar, and smiled. “What can I get for you, mister?”

“I'll have a whiskey,” the man replied.

“Comin' right up.”

Both men's voices echoed within the place since they were the only two there. The clink of bottle meeting glass only made the saloon feel emptier than it already was. After placing the glass of whiskey onto the bar in front of his only customer, the barkeep beamed proudly as if he'd been the one to brew the liquor as well as serve it. “Anything else for you?”

“I'm looking for someone by the name of John Slocum. You know who he is?”

“Mind if I ask who wants to know?”

The man lifted the glass of whiskey to his mouth, tipped it back, and set it down, all without taking his eyes off the man in front of him. “I am,” he said smoothly.

“I don't want to start any trouble here.”

“What makes you think there's going to be trouble?”

“No offense,” the barkeep said, “but you don't strike me as someone looking to reunite with an old friend. You're wearing at least two guns and you chewed on your words when you mentioned the name of the man you were after.”

The man nodded slowly. “All right, then.” He reached under his coat, opening it to reveal more of the .32 under his arm. The barkeep tensed, paled slightly, and exhaled when a small wad of money was taken out instead of the pistol. The man peeled off one of the bills and set it down. “That's for steering me in the right direction. There'll be more coming if your directions pan out.”

“If I'm to give up a good man like that, I'll need a bit more to clear my conscience.”

A smile flickered across the man's face, doing nothing to alleviate the tension in the air. “You don't seem all too friendly in regards to that name. You own this place?”

“I do.”

“Then it's plain to see that you need every bit of money you can scrape together.” The man peeled off a few more bills, but didn't place them on top of the first one just yet. “What can you tell me about John Slocum?”

“He was in a scrape or two over at the Second Saloon just down the street. He works at the mill.”

“How do you know him?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does,” the man sternly replied, “if you're just feeding me a line of horse manure to get your hands on this money.”

Sighing, the barkeep said, “He was after one of my regular customers in regards to some feud between them. I haven't seen that very good customer of mine since, and as you mentioned already,” the barkeep added while sweeping his little hand to encompass the saloon, “I don't have many of them to spare. Him coming around to roust one and chase away the others hurt me. If he's got some bit of misery coming from some other direction, that's fine by me. My grandma always told me people get what's coming to them one way or another.”

“Well, you keep this,” the man said as he put down the money in his hand. “I'm good for my word, so if I catch up to Slocum, I'll be back to pay you the rest.”

“Sure. And do me another favor.”

Already turning away from the bar, the man stopped and faced the little fellow behind it.

“That regular customer of mine is Lester Quint,” the barkeep said. “If you run into him somewhere along the way, let him know it's safe to come back here. I'll even give him a better discount than before.”

“I'll do that,” the man said. He then tipped his hat and went on his way.

After a short walk down Cedar Street, he spotted the Second Saloon as well as a place called the Axe Handle. The man hadn't forgotten which one he was supposed to go to, but decided to start at the other just to see what he might find. After asking two people a minimum of questions, he got plenty more than he'd bargained for.

“John Slocum?” one of the barkeeps at the Axe Handle replied. “Hell yes, I know him! You a friend of his?”

“That's right,” the man replied as he plastered on a somewhat convincing smile. “You know where I can find him?”

“Should be around anytime. Hey, Nellie!”

Following the barkeep's line of sight, the man found a woman with reddish blond hair and generous curves wrapped in a flimsy excuse for a dress. She sauntered over and immediately placed a hand flat upon the man's chest. “What can I do for you, honey?” she purred.

“This one's looking for John Slocum,” the barkeep said. “You know where he is?”

“He's been across the street on occasion,” she replied. “But I think he rode out to look for the Beast of Fall Pass.”

“The what?”

Waving her hand as if she were clearing cobwebs from the air, Nellie said, “Just some myth. Probably nothing but a bear. They should be back anytime. I can think of a few ways to keep you busy while you wait, though.”

“I'm sure you could.” Taking hold of her wrist before it could reach any farther below his belt, the man asked, “What about Lester Quint?”

“I think I can make you feel a lot better than he could,” she told him.

“No doubt about that. I just need to have a word with him. After that, I think I'd like to see you again.” He reached into his pocket and found a few dollars, which he then slipped down the front of Nellie's dress. His fingers lingered in the warmth of her cleavage as he said, “Think that'll tide you over until I get back to you?”

Her eyes widened and she shifted her body to ease his hand even farther between her breasts. “That should do nicely. Lester rents one of the houses on Third Avenue. Number six.”

“He there now?”

“He doesn't go much of anywhere else ever since Slocum handed him a beating. I think his pride is hurt worse than anything else. Let him know I'm thinking of him, but,” she added while fishing out the money, “I'll really be thinking of you instead.” She took his hand and placed it between her legs so he could feel the warm spot through her skirts. “Hurry back or I'll have to start without you.”

“I'll do that.”

“What's your name, honey?”

“I'll introduce myself proper when I get back,” he said.

Nellie smiled and waved when he left.

From there, the man went straight to the corner and saw that the intersecting street was Second. He made his way to Third Avenue and spotted a short row of small houses on either side of the street that all looked as if they'd been poured from the same mold. Each had a number nailed to the door, but he took his time before approaching the one he was after.

The man walked slowly down the street, wary of what was happening on either side. Apart from a few children playing nearby and one old woman keeping an eye on them, there wasn't much to see. When he finally did step up to the door of the house bearing the number six, nobody in the vicinity seemed to give a damn.

After knocking on the door, the man heard nothing so he knocked again. A few more seconds passed before he saw a shadow move behind one of the curtained windows. When he knocked a third time, it was hard enough to rattle the door in its frame.

“Get the hell off my damn porch!” someone bellowed from inside.

“You're Lester Quint?”

“Yeah, and I got a shotgun, so get the hell off my porch! I won't ask again!”

“I'd just like a word with you, sir.”

The curtain shifted to one side so an angry face could peek out.

“I won't take much of your time,” the man promised.

Lester gritted his teeth and moved away from the window. Soon, the door was unlocked and jerked open so he could show himself and the shotgun he'd mentioned to the man on his porch. “You got two seconds,” Lester snarled. “Best make 'em count.”

“I'm looking for John Slocum and I was told you might be able to help me find him.”

“I ain't no friend of that son of a bitch, so I sure as hell ain't gonna help you. Now get to walkin' or I'll cut you in half with this scattergun.”

Despite the harsh words and the twin barrels pointed at him, the man smiled and said, “My name is Buck Oberman. I have business to settle with Mr. Slocum.”

“What kind of business?”

“This kind,” Buck said as he peeled open his coat to show the gun at his side. “And I can assure you, I'm no friend of John Slocum either.”

Slowly, Lester stepped aside. “Why don't you come on in?”

Most of the time, Slocum didn't mind a day spent in the saddle. In fact, he found it preferable to spending time with most people and would gladly remain under a wide-open sky than cooped up in a room with a bunch of strangers. Still, considering the circumstances of his most recent ride, Slocum was plenty glad to back within Bennsonn's town limits.

It took them a bit longer to get back than it had for them to ride out in the first place on account of the load Merle's horse was carrying. Also, Darryl and Slocum were both preoccupied with searching for any other wild men springing from the trees swinging strange three-bladed knives. No such surprises were in store for them, however. Once they got within sight of town, Darryl had begun lobbying to be the one to take their filthy cargo in to the sheriff's office.

“Go right ahead,” Slocum sighed.

Obviously expecting more of a fight, Darryl asked, “You don't mind us taking him in? We can bring you your part of any reward.”

“Or you can just tell him to keep it and I'll come get it later.”

“We won't cheat you, you know.”

“I know,” Slocum said. “Wasn't even thinking that.”

Darryl blinked, turned away, turned back, and blinked again. Finally, he grumbled and rode on.

Shaking his head as he followed, Merle said, “I'll make sure your part of the money stays put. Will you be staying in town for a spell?”

“Yeah. If you need anything, leave word at the Morrison House.”

“I was thinking we could split a bottle of whiskey.”

Slocum nodded. “Sounds good. In fact, I think I'll get a jump on it at the first saloon to strike my fancy.”

“Don't spread too many wild stories about subduing the beast until we get back to lend our two cents.”

“I'll try.”

Merle followed his brother to Sheriff Krueger's office, and Slocum rode to the stable to put his horse up for the night. Then he walked to the Axe Handle, which was nearby. He stopped a few steps shy of the saloon's front door, thinking about the card games he'd been playing there. While he enjoyed a good game of poker, Slocum wasn't in the mood to sit at a table with a bunch of gamblers who were out to fleece him. All he wanted was to have a drink or two. When his eyes drifted toward the Second Saloon across the street, he thought how nice it would be to have that drink with some pleasant company.

The Second Saloon wasn't exactly quiet. Slocum walked inside, looked over at the faro tables, and saw all three of them were being run by dealers that weren't half as pretty as Eliza. On the contrary, not one of them was even a lady. All three dealers looked over at him expectantly, hoping he would come to their table and add more to the percentage of the house take they were allowed to claim as their own. Slocum nodded back at them and turned to the bar. He was startled to find Eliza standing there with a smile on her face waiting for him.

“Were you there the whole time?” Slocum asked.

“Yes,” Eliza replied with a smirk. “You didn't even notice.” She wore a black dress with blue ribbons stitched into a bodice that hugged her form nicely. The dark colors made her skin seem smoother than cream that had been poured over a peach. The fact that Slocum had overlooked her spoke to just how tired he was.

“Why aren't you at your table?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “A few of my players had lucky streaks and Rolf was convinced I was bad luck for the house, so he told me to serve drinks for a while.” Her eyes widened and she leaned against the bar to say, “I heard you and the Beasleys went after the Beast of Fall Pass.”

“You heard right,” he said.

“Did you catch anything?”

“Yep. It stands somewhere close to eight feet tall, walks on two legs, has claws as long as your hand, and fangs that could take a bite out of this bar like it was made from peanut brittle.”

Her mouth gaped open and her eyes grew even wider. “Really?” she gasped.

Slocum bathed in the moment for a few seconds before saying, “No. He's just some crazy man dressed in smelly skins swinging some mighty big knives. He did put up quite a fight, though.”

Eliza laughed. “Still sounds exciting. When did you get back?”

“Less than an hour ago. I wanted to have a drink and thought I'd come here for it.”

“Did you miss me?” she asked shyly.

“Actually, I did come here for you. The way I see it, you owe me at least a steak dinner.”

“How do you figure?”

“You agreed to spend a quiet evening with Lester Quint when you thought he was me,” Slocum explained. “Having met Lester, I believe you were cheated from what that evening could have been. And . . . I can tell by the way you're blushing right now that I've touched a nerve.”

“I really don't even know you,” she said.

“Then let's change that. I can tell you all about the hunt for the beast. Or if you'd like something a little more exciting, I can tell you about the bank robbers I chased out of Cheyenne.”

“You . . . chased bank robbers out of Cheyenne?” she asked with no small amount of skepticism.

“Well, not just me. I was riding in a posse, but it's still a hell of a story. Tell you what . . . you come along with me tonight and I'll pay for the steak dinner. I should be able to scrape up some money from the sheriff. Come on, now. Don't make me beg.”

The smile that had appeared on her face as a glimmer had grown to something much brighter. Finally, she said, “I suppose that sounds inviting. But I can't just leave my duties here.”

“Soldiers have duties,” Slocum said. “Mayors have duties. Even parents have duties. Pouring drinks for these folks, as friendly as I'm sure they are, doesn't exactly qualify as a duty. Do you have any young ones waiting for you?”

“Not hardly.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” he asked while offering his hand to her across the top of the bar. “You strike me as a woman looking for a good reason to kick her heels up a bit.”

Although Eliza hesitated, the glimmer in her eyes told Slocum that she was only trying to think of the quickest way to put that saloon behind her. Before too long, she settled on taking Slocum's hand, hopping up to sit on the bar and swinging her legs over so he could help her come down on the other side.

From out of nowhere, Rolf stomped toward the bar. “What's the meaning of this? Where do you think you're going?”

“She's coming with me,” Slocum said. “I'm a paying customer and I demand that she escort me to get something to eat.”

“That don't allow her to come and go as she pleases!” Rolf fumed.

“I just returned from risking life and limb for this town,” Slocum said without missing a beat. “Two other brave souls and I captured the Beast of Fall Pass, and this generous lady offered to thank me on behalf of this fine establishment!”

Without much of any consideration, Rolf shook his head. “Still don't cut it.”

Before Slocum could come up with another grand statement to throw at the barkeep, Eliza said, “I'll make it up to you,” and slipped her arm around Slocum's.

Rolf was sputtering, but quickly quieted down when another woman came along to pat him on the back. “Don't get your knickers in a twist,” Mary said. “I'll watch the bar. You go along, Eliza. Have a good ol' time.”

“She will,” Slocum promised.

 • • • 

It had been simple instinct when Slocum had decided to pay a visit to the Second Saloon so he could call on Eliza. Seeing her in that black dress with raven hair framing her pretty face, Slocum felt a different kind of instinct that was even more powerful.

They'd had supper at the steakhouse Slocum visited often enough to be recognized by the owner, who grudgingly agreed to extend him a short line of credit. Slocum and Eliza talked, laughed, and he told her plenty of stories. Just when he thought it was time for him to stop flapping his gums, she gazed at him intently and asked for more.

Upon leaving the steakhouse, Slocum and Eliza took a walk in the cool night air. There was a gentle breeze playing with her hair and the edges of her skirt. Dim light from the stars played beautifully upon her face and arms. Although Slocum didn't rightly know where they were walking, she led him to a small house at the end of a quiet street.

They stepped inside after a few more pleasantries, but didn't venture much farther than the sitting room just beyond her front door. Although she talked about parting ways after a splendid evening, her eyes told a different story. Slocum tested the waters by stepping in a bit closer while placing his hands upon her hips.

“I . . . shouldn't,” she whispered while leaning in closer to him.

“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. But something tells me you want to.”

Every breath she took caused her body to swell, which pressed her against him even more. Eliza opened her mouth as if to speak, but no words came out. When Slocum moved in a bit more, she placed her hands on his face and kissed him hungrily. Their tongues quickly started to wander, causing her to moan softly and with mounting passion.

“Not here,” she said.

Moving back, even an inch, at that moment was physically painful for Slocum but he somehow managed. “No?”

“No.” With a smile, she took his hand and started walking down a short hallway. “In here.”

She led him to her bedroom, and when she kissed him again, Eliza gave in to the desire that had been building the entire night. She trembled with anticipation as Slocum pushed her against a wall and started gathering up her skirts so he could reach beneath them. Her hands were busy as well, tugging at his belt buckle and occasionally cupping the growing bulge in his crotch.

“Yes,” she sighed once his fingers discovered the moist lips between her legs.

Slocum had pulled aside the layers of her clothing while she'd loosened his jeans enough for them to be pulled down far enough to free his erect member. He pressed her against the wall while taking hold of one of her legs so he could lift it up near his waist. Eliza was feeling his rigid cock, stroking every inch while looking into his eyes. When he moved his hips toward her, she guided him toward her slick opening. Slocum eased into her, causing Eliza to grip his shoulder and draw a sharp breath.

Watching her as he slid in deeper, Slocum was careful not to pump too hard. Once he was all the way inside her, he felt her grind her hips while wrapping both arms around the back of his neck. She smiled hungrily, and Slocum started pumping faster, gliding in and out of her in a building rhythm. Leaning her head back against the wall, Eliza moaned softly.

As good as it felt to be inside her, Slocum wanted more. He reached down to grab her other leg and Eliza hopped up to wrap them both around him. Cupping her ass in both hands, he held her up against the wall and thrust into her harder. Slocum could feel her fingers digging into his neck and shoulders. She leaned her face in close to his and grunted every time he plunged into her. The sound of her building pleasure was music to his ears, and he pumped into her again and again just to see how much she wanted him to give.

Eliza showed no signs of letting up. In fact, the more he drove between her legs, the more she urged him onward with throaty moans and urgent motions with her hips. When he felt that she was gripping him tightly with both arms, Slocum moved away from the wall and carried her to the bed. He remained inside her all the way until lowering her onto the edge of the mattress to set her down. She looked up at him with her legs open and her pussy dripping.

“You're not going to stop, are you?” she asked.

“Not hardly,” Slocum replied. Grabbing both of her ankles, he positioned her so her legs rested on his shoulders while he stood facing her. Eliza's backside was on the very edge of the mattress so all he had to do to enter her again was ease forward and slip the tip of his cock between her glistening lips.

Eliza moaned as he filled her with every inch of his hard flesh. She cried out even louder when he drove into her again and again while rubbing her little clit. Her eyes snapped open as if she could barely take a breath.

“Oh God,” she cried. “Oh . . . that's . . . I'm . . . I'm going to . . .” Suddenly, her back arched and she couldn't make a sound. Her climax was so powerful that she remained that way until the pulsing orgasm had swept all the way through her body. He liked watching her as she trembled, and he enjoyed feeling her even more as she writhed slowly against him to feel him moving inside her.

When she was finally able to catch her breath, Eliza looked up at him. As Slocum crawled on top of her, she scooted back so she wasn't about to fall off the bed. He settled in and reached down to feel between her legs. She was wetter than ever and jolted at the slightest touch of his hand against her pussy. Slocum didn't say a word as he undressed her and then stripped off his own clothes so they were both completely naked.

Her skin felt smooth as silk in every spot that her body rubbed against his. For the next minute or two, Slocum and Eliza savored being so close, tasting each other's lips and feeling each other's bodies any way they could.

“I want you inside me again,” she whispered while reaching down to feel him. Her fingers wrapped around his thick pole and stroked it slowly up and down. Slocum closed his eyes, savoring the way her hand worked him before placing his cock where she wanted it to be. As soon as he felt his tip brush against the wet lips of her pussy, he pushed his hips forward to plunge inside her.

This time, Slocum's entire body ached for only one thing, and he gave in to that desire by pumping into her like a piston. She was more than wet enough to accommodate him and she spread her legs open wide so he could thrust as deeply as he wanted. Slocum grabbed one of her hands and held it tightly as his other hand eased along the side of her body until he could cup the tight curve of her buttocks. Every one of his muscles strained with the effort of maintaining that rhythm, and soon Eliza was moaning again.