Beauty And The Bounty Page 3

  “I see. She didn’t produce the gun until…”

  “Until we were in the vault.”

  “Ah. And by that time you were…already…undressed?”

  “Ahem…yes.”

  “Did she make any friends while she was here? Fellow workers?”

  “I don’t…well, I did see her talking to Amy Butterworth on occasion.”

  “Amy?”

  “She’s a teller in the bank.”

  “Is she…attractive?”

  “Quite.”

  How did Decker miss her when he came in.

  “I believe she’s out to lunch now, but she should be back shortly.”

  “Perhaps I’ll stop by later, after I’ve seen the sheriff,” Decker said, standing up.

  “The sheriff?” Holden said. “You won’t…”

  “No, Mr. Holden, I won’t tell the sheriff anything that we’ve discussed here.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Decker. You see—well, my wife…ah, you understand.”

  “Yes, Mr. Holden,” Decker said, heading for the door, “I understand perfectly.”

  Chapter Five

  Ed Friendly was far from friendly looking, and the condition extended to his attitude—especially toward bounty hunters.

  “Don’t like you fellas,” Friendly said when Decker introduced himself, “never did, never will.”

  “I don’t have a problem with that, Sheriff,” Decker said. “I can understand it.”

  “You can?”

  “Sure. You do your job for a monthly wage—a low wage—and you see people like me walking away with the big rewards.”

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “But that wouldn’t make you help an outlaw get away, would it?”

  “What outlaw are we talking about?”

  “The woman who robbed your bank.”

  “Her! She made a fool of Holden, that one did. And he thinks his wife doesn’t know what he was up to.”

  “She does?”

  “Of course she does. She’s a fine woman, Rachel Holden is. A fine woman.”

  “I wonder how she found out?”

  “She’s not a stupid woman.”

  “Obviously not. Anyway, is there anything that you can tell me about the robber?”

  “Not much. She didn’t talk to a lot of people. You know, kept to herself.”

  “How long was she here?”

  “A couple of months.”

  “And she didn’t make any friends in all that time?”

  “Didn’t you ask Holden that?”

  “He mentioned Amy, a teller in the bank, but what about male friends?

  The lawman smirked and said, “You should probably have asked Holden about that, too.”

  Yes, Decker thought, I should have. He didn’t relish talking to Holden again, however, and decided instead to talk to Amy Butterworth about it.

  “All right, Sheriff,” Decker said, “thanks for your help.”

  “Wasn’t much help, if you ask me.”

  “Well, that shouldn’t distress you much, Friendly, seeing how you feel about bounty hunters.”

  “You’re right about that. How long will you be staying in town, Decker?”

  “Just overnight,” Decker assured him. “I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

  “Good,” Friendly said, “that’s good.”

  “Have a nice day,” Decker said.

  After Decker left, the lawman folded his hands under his chin and stared at the door. Damned bounty hunters, got all the reward money.

  He wondered how good he would be at it.

  When Decker arrived back at the bank he found Amy Butterworth in her teller’s cage. He managed to convince her to give him a few moments of her time.

  She was almost pretty, blonde, with very fair eyebrows and lashes and a slender form.

  “I guess I’m the only one she ever really talked to,” Amy said, “but then, I suppose it was all lies.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t,” Decker said. “Amy, would you be willing to let me buy you dinner?”

  “But…you’re a stranger,” the girl said.

  “I assure you, my only intention is to talk about Hannah Brown.”

  “Hmph,” Amy said then. “I’ll bet that wasn’t even her real name.”

  “What about dinner?” he asked the hopelessly naive girl.

  Over dinner Amy did two things very well—she ate and she talked. Decker was hard put to decide which she did faster.

  He listened very intently as she relayed some of the things “Hannah Brown” had told her, and he filed them away for future reference.

  Now, sitting in Duke Ballard’s hotel in San Francisco, he thought about some of those things.

  She’d talked about being hurt by a man. Decker had a hunch that was true.

  She spoke of having something to prove in a world controlled by men. Decker felt that was true, also. That was why she was doing what no self respecting con man would do, using her abilities on banks, and other institutions.

  This woman lived to compete with men. Decker wondered how he’d be able to use that against her.

  He was preparing to go to bed when there was a knock at his door. When he opened it, he was surprised to find a woman standing there. She was tall and slender, wearing a low-cut gown that showed off her creamy white firm breasts. Her hair was blonde, and worn in a single long pony tail that hung over her right shoulder.

  “Hello,” she said, smiling.

  “Uh, hello.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “I, uh, do you have the right room?” he asked, puzzled.

  “Are you Decker?” she asked. “Duke’s friend?”

  “Uh, yes, I am, but—”

  “Then I have the right room,” she said, moving past him into the room…

  Chapter Six

  The next morning while Decker was waiting for his breakfast, Duke joined him.

  “Clean me out last night?” Duke asked.

  “I broke even.”

  “Bad sign,” Duke said. “You’ll either lose big or win big today.”

  “Is that your experience?”

  “It certainly is. By the way, did you have a pleasant night?” Duke asked this question with a hopelessly smug look on his face.

  “Once I got over the shock, yes, it was very pleasant.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “Do me a favor, though, will you?”

  “What?”

  “Let me arrange for my own companionship from now on?”

  “If that’s the way you want it.”

  “I do.”

  The waiter came over and took Duke’s order, who simply told him to bring whatever Decker had ordered.

  “I’ve got something for you on your con lady,” Duke said after the waiter had left.

  “Already?”

  “My community is a pretty small one,” Duke said, “and your girlfriend is making waves.”

  “What kind of waves?”

  “Like I said yesterday, she’s doing things only an amateur would do—but she’s getting away with it. It’s not making her very popular.”

  “Because she’s getting away with it?”

  “Because she’s breaking the rules.”

  “Oh,” Decker said, “the rules…”

  “The rules of the game, Decker.”

  “Well, Duke, maybe to her it’s not a game.”

  “It’s all a game, Decker. If she doesn’t know that, she’s dangerous.”

  “Tell me something, Duke. Is she impressing anyone?”

  “She is.”

  “You?”

  Duke shook his head.

  “No, not me.”

  “So what’s being said?”

  “The feeling is that she’s been building up to something.”

  “What?”

  “Look at her pattern. Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada—”

  “California,” Decker guessed. “And I’d lay odds she’d come to San Francisco.”
>
  “That’s the general feeling. If she can come here and pull off a big con, then she’d really impress people.”

  “So all I have to do is wait for her.”

  “It might take a while, but no longer than if you went out looking for her. Make yourself comfortable here. Gamble, sightsee, chase some women—and wait.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “If you ask me, you look as if you could use the rest. Why don’t you just forget about her for a while? Take some time off, for Chrissake! Or do you need the money that badly?”

  “Not the money, not that badly,” Decker said. “Not yet, anyway.”

  “Then what is it? The action? Is that what you need? Believe me, Decker, there’s plenty of action here in San Francisco.”

  “I’m sure there is.”

  “Good, then it’s settled. You’ll stay here—on the house, of course.”

  “Hey, Duke, that’s fine for a few days, but—”

  “As long as you like, Decker,” Duke scolded him, “you know that.”

  Decker smiled as breakfast arrived and said, “How can I turn down an offer like that?”

  “You can’t.”

  That settled, they both turned their attention to breakfast. Decker didn’t know if he could completely push “Hannah Brown” from his mind while he was in San Francisco, but he could damn well try.

  For the next three days Decker gambled, looked at San Francisco, ate well, even spent some time in the company of several lovely women.

  By the fourth day, the inactivity had worn thin.

  “I’m going crazy,” he told Duke on the morning of the fourth day, over breakfast.

  “Well, actually,” Duke told him, “you’ve lasted a lot longer than I thought you would.”

  “Smart guy.”

  “I’ve got something that might interest you.”

  “Information on my con lady?”

  “No,” Duke said, “a special poker game, starting tonight.”

  “Where?”

  “In one of the suites.”

  “What do you mean by a special game?”

  “You need an invitation to play, and you need to be a damned good player.”

  “Who’s playing?”

  “Some friends of mine.”

  “Friends of yours,” Decker said, looking dubious. “I could go broke playing poker with friends of yours.”

  “They’re all gamblers,” Duke assured him, “not a con man—or woman—among them.”

  “Name one.”

  “Luke Short.”

  Decker’s eyebrows shot up.

  “I’ve never met Short.”

  “That makes you even. He’s never met you, either.”

  “Are you inviting me to observe this game—or play in it?”

  “What good would you do just observing? Of course you’ll play.”

  “When?”

  “Tonight. We’ll have dinner together, and then I’ll take you up.”

  “All right,” Decker agreed, but he was doubtful that even the most interesting poker game would be able to keep his attention and interest indefinitely. Eventually, he was going to have to get back to the only thing that really kept his interest.

  The hunt.

  Chapter Seven

  When Duke showed up for dinner that night Decker was surprised to see that he was with a woman. She was a stunning redhead who put the blonde from the night before to shame.

  Decker stood up as Duke and the woman approached the table.

  “Decker, meet Stella Morrell. Stella, this is my friend Decker.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Decker.”

  “Just Decker,” Decker said.

  “I’ve heard so much about you from Duke.”

  “Shall we sit down?” Duke said.

  “Please,” Decker said. Duke held Stella Morrell’s chair for her, and then sat down across from Decker.

  “I thought we had a deal,” Decker said to Duke. He was referring to their agreement that Decker would arrange for his own companionship.

  “Stella is here for the poker game, Decker,” Duke explained. “She’s the only woman invited.”

  “You must find that quite an honor,” Decker said. He felt embarrassed at having mistaken her for a whore.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Is it an honor to sit in a smokefilled room full of men, all of whom will be undressing me with their eyes.”

  “While you take their money,” Decker said.

  She smiled and said, “Yes, there is that.”

  He saw that she was not young, probably in her mid-thirties, but he was willing to bet that she was more beautiful now than she had ever been before. She struck him as one of those women who would grow even more lovely as she got older.

  “Will you be playing also, Mr. Decker?”

  “I’ve invited him,” Duke said.

  “Well, if you’ve been invited, then you must play. I can assure you, it will be a very interesting game.”

  “How long will the game go on?” Decker asked.

  Duke laughed and Stella said, “Until somebody wins.”

  Obviously, it was the kind of game that could go on for days. Decker liked playing poker, and could sit and play for hours, but days? The only thing that he could do for days—and weeks, and sometimes months—was hunt.

  Decker had become a bounty hunter out of necessity, but he soon discovered that it was all he was really cut out to do. He spent many weeks out on the trail alone, tracking his prey, and never gave it a second thought. There were a lot of people in San Francisco, and soon he knew that the city would start to close in on him.

  He couldn’t even think of staying in one room with five or six other people for days, with only short breaks for sleep and food.

  “Tell me something,” he said, “can someone play in this game only for a few hours?”

  “You can play as long as you like,” Duke said, “but the game will be going on for a long time, with players sitting in and dropping out.”

  “It will be very interesting,” Stella said.

  “I’m sure it will be,” Decker said.

  They ordered dinner, and conversation was kept very light. No deep, dark secrets or life’s goals were discussed at the table, and when dinner was done Duke said, “Well, shall we go up?”

  “By all means,” Stella said. She turned her green eyes on Decker and asked, “Will you be coming, Mr. Decker.”

  “For a while, anyway,” Decker said. “For a little while.”

  There was a huge round table in the center of the suite, and off to one side a small sidebar, where five men were standing, some drinking, some smoking, some doing both.

  When Duke made the introductions, Decker was impressed. He recognized three of the five names, including that of Luke Short.

  Short was smaller than Decker thought he would be. He was a dapper man with a mustache, a firm grip and a steady eye.

  The others he recognized were Gentleman Dan Patrick, and Eddie Black.

  The remaining two men in the room were introduced as Jordan Shaker and Sam Gibson.

  “Can we get this game under way now?” Gibson asked. He was a big man in his mid-forties who wore an ill fitting black suit—ill fitting because his belly was so large.

  “By all means,” Duke said.

  As they sat down Decker discovered that Duke was not going to play. He would simply deal, and when he was not dealing a relief dealer would be brought in.

  With Duke dealing and not playing, there were seven players. After they had all changed cash into chips, they were ready to start.

  “I thought Dutch Leonard was going to be here,” Luke Short commented.

  “Dutch might be arriving tomorrow,” Duke said.

  “I know he was intending to come. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “And Tim Champlin?”

  “Tim can’t make it this time.”

  “What about Clark Howard?” Dan Patrick said. “I played in a game with him
two months back, and he said he was going to come.”

  “He’ll definitely be arriving tomorrow,” Duke said. “This is the first hand of the night, gentlemen and lady. Five card stud.”

  Duke dealt out the cards, and Decker caught a King. Eddie Black had an Ace, and he opened for twenty dollars.

  The game was starting out small.

  Decker was out of his class.

  He knew that almost from the beginning, but a streak of luck kept him in the game for the first three hours. Halfway through the fourth hour he had lost half of what he’d won during the first three hours. Decker’s back was beginning to hurt and he decided to call it a night.

  “If you gentlemen—and the lady—don’t mind, I think I’ll hang it up for now.”

  “Your choice,” Duke said. “Anybody can quit at any time.”

  Decker picked up what was left of his winnings and cashed in his chips with Duke.

  “I could use a drink and a short rest,” Stella Morrell said. “Would you mind?”

  “No, not at all,” Decker said.

  Stella did not cash in, indicating that she was returning very soon.

  Chapter Eight

  They left the room together and went down to the empty hotel dining room, where they took a table and ordered drinks.

  “You were lucky,” Stella said, “in the beginning of the game.”

  “You noticed.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “I’m sure everyone did,” Decker said. “I’m hopelessly out of my depth up there. The cards just happened to be coming right for the first few hours. Anybody could have won with them.”

  “I wouldn’t necessarily say you were out of your depth—not hopelessly, anyway.” He thought she was just being generous. “Everyone up there does this for a living, Decker. You did quite well for someone who only plays for fun.”

  “Relaxation,” he said, “only right now I feel anything but relaxed.”

  “Yes,” she said, looking amused, “I noticed that your back is a little stiff.”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “You kept stretching on the way down.”

  “I still am,” he said, and demonstrated. “I’m used to sitting in the saddle for hours at a time, but those hard wood chairs…”