The Governor's Gun Page 7
“Got witnesses?”
“Everyone who works here.”
“That’s good for you, then,” Clint said. “Tell that to the policeman.”
“I—I will.”
Once again Clint started for the door. When he got there, he turned with his hand on the doorknob as something else occurred to him.
“There’s another question I want to ask you,” Clint said. “Please don’t try to lie to me.”
“I—I won’t, I promise.”
Clint turned to face the man, just to be sure.
“Who recommended Eve to you?” he asked.
TWENTY-FOUR
Clint got back to the cab and found Danny eating yet another apple.
“Don’t you eat any other kind of fruit?” he asked.
“I like apples,” Danny said. “Where we goin’ now, boss?”
“Take me to the next address I gave you,” Clint said. “We have to see a man about some finances.” He climbed aboard. “And then I’ve got a third man to see.”
“Are any of these men gonna help you find the missing girl?”
“I hope so.”
“Me, too,” Danny said. “I like Adrienne. I bet her sister’s nice like her.”
“Yeah,” Clint said, “I’m sure she is. Drive, Danny.”
“Yes, sir.”
* * *
Arnold Van Eyck’s office was just a matter of blocks from Hamilton Kane’s bank. Danny pulled the cab to a stop right in front.
“Same rules, Danny,” Clint said. “Anybody makes you move, just come back.”
“Right.”
Clint went into the building.
* * *
After Clint left the bank, Hamilton Kane came out of his office and told the girl at the desk, “I’ll be out for a little while.”
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Just out!” he snapped.
“But what if anyone asks—”
As he left, he knew he was going to have to buy her a nice little bauble if he was ever going to get her knickers off again.
He’d been too scared to lie to the man in his office, so he’d given him the real name of the man who had introduced him to Eve. Now he had to go and warn that man that he might be in trouble.
They all might be in trouble.
* * *
The building where Arnold Van Eyck had his office was a brand-new one. It had been built very recently, and was three stories high. There were many offices inside, and they were listed on a board in the lobby. Clint checked the list and saw that Van Eyck’s office was in the third floor.
There was an elevator, but Clint didn’t trust the newfangled things, so he took the stairs to the third floor.
There was a sign on the door that said, ARNOLD VAN EYCK, FINANCIAL SERVICES. Clint wasn’t sure, but he thought this meant that the man told other men what to do with their money.
He entered without knocking. The girl who looked up from her desk could have been the sister of the girl in the bank. Young, pretty, and polite.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“I’m here to see Mr. Van Eyck.”
“And your name?”
“Clint Adams.”
“I don’t believe you have an appointment, Mr. Adams,” she said.
“You’re right, little lady, I don’t. But I think he’ll see me.”
“Why?” she asked with genuine curiosity.
“Tell him Eve sent me.”
“Eve who?”
“He’ll know.”
She stared at him a few moments, then said, “Wait here.” She stood up, as the girl in the bank had done, and went through a door. Didn’t take as long this time. Maybe Van Eyck wasn’t sleeping with her.
She came out, left the door open, and said, “You can go in, sir.”
He moved past her into the room. She closed the door.
The man behind the desk didn’t move, just sat there. He was fifty, had muttonchop whiskers and a long jaw.
“What do you want?”
“Have you heard from your friend?” Clint asked.
“What friend?”
“The banker, Kane.”
“I don’t know him.”
“You do.”
Van Eyck hesitated, then said, “I haven’t heard from him.”
“You will,” Clint said.
“What do you know about Eve?” Van Eyck asked.
“That’s what I wanted to ask you,” Clint said. “What do you know?”
“Nothing,” Van Eyck said, “She’s a whore, that’s all.”
There was a clock on the wall. It was almost five. Clint realized he had made a mistake. He should have told the banker who he was. It might have kept him from warning the other man.
Now it was too late. The banker was most likely on his way to do just that.
“Answer me one question,” Clint said. “Who recommended Eve to you?”
TWENTY-FIVE
Kane got in to see the man, who was very annoyed at him.
“Why did you come here?” the man demanded.
“I had to warn you,” Kane said. “There’s a man looking for Eve.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“I didn’t tell him nothing!”
“Did you tell him about Van Eyck?”
“He told me about him.”
“Okay, so he knows.”
Something occurred to Kane.
“Did you already know this?”
“Yeah,” the man said, frowning, “yeah, I knew. I thought I had it taken care of with that waiter but—never mind. You go back to your bank.”
“The bank’s closed,” Kane said.
“Then go home, damn it!” the man said. “You might’ve been followed here.”
“I don’t think I was.”
“Believe me,” the man said, “if Clint Adams had followed you back here, you wouldn’t have seen him.”
Kane’s eyes went wide.
“Is that who was in my office today?” he asked. “The Gunsmith?”
“That’s him.”
“Jesus, I could’ve been killed!”
“Yeah, you could have,” the man said. “So go home and don’t do anything stupid. Just wait to hear from me.”
“But Mr.—”
“Get out, Kane! And use the back stairs this time.”
Kane got out.
The man sat behind his desk, worrying his bottom lip with his fingers. Adams may have thought he was still in the Wild West, but Austin was a growing city. There were other ways to solve problems than gunfights in the street.
And he thought he had the right person for the job.
* * *
Clint left Van Eyck’s office, armed with the same name he’d gotten from Kane. He didn’t want to go back to Adrienne with what he had found out, and he didn’t feel like going back to his hotel. And he didn’t plan to visit the other man until the next day.
When he got to the cab, he gave Danny the address of the gunsmith shop.
* * *
“What’s this place?” Danny asked.
“Just what it says over the door,” Clint said. “A gunsmith shop.”
Clint unlocked the door and they went inside.
“Wow. Some place.”
“Yeah.”
“What are we gonna do?”
“I’m going to work on a gun,” Clint said. “Then we’ll go back to the hotel.”
“What about Adrienne’s sister?”
“I might know somebody who knows where she is,” Clint said. “We’ll look into it tomorrow.”
“What should I do while you’re
workin’?” Danny asked.
Clint took out some money.
“Go and get us some sandwiches,” Clint said. “I’ll work, we’ll eat, and then you can take me back to the hotel.”
“Okay,” Danny said. He headed for the door.
“And bring back some apples!”
* * *
Jake Kendall turned the naked woman over onto her hands and knees. She knew what he wanted, so she hiked her big butt up in the air. He slapped it a couple of times, leaving the skin red, then slid his hard cock up between her thighs and into her pussy.
“Ooh, yeah, Jake,” she crooned, “that’s it, that’s it.”
He gripped her hips and started fucking her, in and out, slowly at first, and then faster and faster. He grabbed a handful of her blond hair, as if they were the reins of a pony, and rode her until they were both slick with sweat.
When he pulled his cock out, she said, “Come on, big man, put it in my ass.”
“Are you kiddin’?” he asked. He slapped her butt, harder than before. “I tol’ you about that stuff before. It’s filthy! I don’t do that French stuff. Now turn over so I can fuck you proper.”
She rolled onto her back, wishing she could get him to try something new for once. She spread her meaty thighs and he knelt between them, pressed the head of his cock to her pussy, and then slid right in. It felt good, but a girl liked to have something different from time to time. But she couldn’t convince Jake Kendall of that.
* * *
Later Jake asked, “You got anybody to meet tomorrow?”
“Yes,” Leah said, “I have one of my gentlemen friends.”
“Gentlemen friends,” Jake repeated. “Try to get one of them to try that dirty stuff with you, why don’t ya?”
She slapped his wilting cock lightly and said, “Maybe I will.”
“Hey!”
There was a knock on the door, then. Leah got up from the bed, pulled on a robe, and went to the door. When she opened it, she saw her boss in the hall.
“I’ve got a job for you,” he said.
“Now?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said, “now.”
TWENTY-SIX
Clint decided what kind of gun he was going to make for the governor, then busied himself gathering the components he needed. Danny watched and ate sandwiches and apples. Clint worked on a sandwich at the same time.
Clint showed Danny how to pick out the right cylinder, the right barrel, the correct action for the gun.
“This is going to be lighter than most guns,” he explained, “because the governor won’t be wearing it in a holster.”
“I get it,” Danny said. “He’s always dressed fancy, so a holster wouldn’t go with those kinds of clothes.”
“Right.”
They finished the sandwiches and washed them down with beer Danny had brought in a couple of pails.
“So what are you gonna do about Adrienne’s missin’ sister?” Danny asked.
Clint had put that out of his mind while he was working on the gun, but Danny’s question brought him right back to it.
“Danny, I’m not sure how to play this,” he said. “See, it’s starting to look like Eve works as a prostitute.”
“Holy cow! And Adrienne doesn’t know?”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“How you gonna tell her?”
“That’s my problem,” Clint said. “I’m thinking maybe I can find Eve and then she can explain it to her sister.”
“So those men you talked to today know where she is?” Danny asked.
“No, but they gave me the name of a man who probably does.”
“So we’re goin’ to see him tomorrow?”
“Well, you’re driving, and I’ll see him,” Clint said. “Maybe we can locate Eve as soon as tomorrow afternoon.”
“Gosh, I hope so.”
“Let’s clean up in here and then you can take me back to the hotel.”
* * *
They got the place cleaned up and then Danny drove Clint back to the hotel.
“What time tomorrow, Mr. Adams?”
“Nine a.m.,” Clint said. “I’ll buy you breakfast, and then we’ll go.”
“Whatever you say, boss!”
* * *
When Clint entered the lobby, he saw the blond woman right away. She was hard to miss. Not dressed provocatively, wearing a simple dress, her body still screamed sex with full breasts, wide hips, and an impressive butt. She was standing at the front desk, talking to the desk clerk, who seemed agitated—possibly even more so than the woman.
As Clint got closer to the desk, he was able to hear their conversation.
“. . . was supposed to meet me here. What am I to do now?”
“Madam, there’s nothing we can do—” the clerk said.
“Well . . . somebody has to help me!” she wailed.
At that point the clerk saw Clint and sent a pleading look his way.
This close, Clint could smell the woman—perfume and sex—and could not walk away.
“Can I help?” he asked.
The woman turned to look at him and it was as if he had been hit in the gut. She wasn’t beautiful, but she was possibly the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. She had a wide, full-lipped mouth that just begged to be bitten into. Although her mouth dominated her face, her big blue eyes gave it a run for its money. Her blond hair was wavy and hung down well past her shoulders, and the dress was cut just low enough to show a tantalizing shadowy cleavage between her full breasts.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Just somebody who wants to help,” he said. “My name is Clint Adams.”
“Do you own the hotel?” she asked.
“Well, no, but—”
“Then I don’t see how you can help me,” she said, and turned back to the clerk. “There must be a room.”
“Madam, I’m sorry—”
“Then what am I to do. I have no money—”
“Perhaps I can help,” Clint said, “even if I don’t own the hotel.”
“How?” she asked.
“Well, for one thing, you look like you could use a drink.”
“Now you’re making sense!” she said.
“Can I buy you one?”
She took a deep breath, swelling her cleavage impressively, and then said, “Yes, please.”
She had a carpetbag at her feet, so he bent and picked it up before she could. It was remarkably light, given the way women usually packed, but it did have a bit of weight to it.
“This way to the bar,” he said.
He led the way into the bar, and then all eyes followed them as they walked to a back table. He held her chair for her, and set her bag down next to her.
“What can I get you?” he asked.
“Would it be unladylike if I asked for a whiskey?” she asked.
“Not at all.”
“And a brandy.”
“Coming up.”
He walked to the bar and ordered her drinks and a beer for himself.
“That’s some woman you got there, mister, if you don’t mind me sayin’,” the bartender commented.
“I don’t mind,” Clint said.
He balanced all three drinks and carried them back to the table.
“Here you go,” he said. Standing next to her, he set her drinks down, bringing his face tantalizing close to her breasts. Her perfume seemed to be coming up directly from her cleavage, and the sex smell was simply emanating from her entire body. It was as if someone had found a woman who would appeal to him perfectly.
He sat across from her with his beer.
“Clint Adams,” she said. “That name is familiar to me. Should it be?”
She drank half of her whiskey and put her hand out to shake. “My name’s Leah.”
They shook hands. She had a firm grip.
“I’m sorry if I was rude to you at the desk,” she said.
“That’s all right.”
“No, it’s not,” she said. “Just because some sonofabitch stood me up here doesn’t mean I have to take it out on all men. And you’ve been very nice to me.”
“What kind of an idiot would stand you up?” he asked.
“That’s what I say,” she answered. “He was supposed to meet me here, buy me dinner, and pay for the, uh, well, the room.”
“Like a gentleman should.”
“You’re still bein’ nice,” she said. “He’s no gentlemen, and I guess I’ve already proven I’m no lady. What kind of a lady meets a man at a hotel?”
“One who knows what she wants, I suspect,” he said.
She finished her whiskey and pushed the glass away, pulled the brandy toward her.
“I think I’m gonna have to watch out for you,” she said. “You seem to know what to say to a woman.”
“I’m just trying to help,” he said. “Are you from town?”
“No,” she said, “not exactly. That is to say, I don’t live in Austin. I live far enough away that I wouldn’t be able to get back home tonight. So I’m stuck here.”
“Do you have any friends in town?”
“I’m afraid not. We, uh, it was really the reason we were meeting, uh, here in Austin.” She lowered her eyes. “The man is married.”
“I see.”
“We thought no one would recognize us here.”
“So you have no place to stay?”
“Nope,” she said. She tasted her brandy. “Which is why I was pleading with the clerk for a room, even though I have no money. So as you can see, I’m pretty stuck.”
“Why don’t I get us some more drinks,” he suggested, “and maybe together we can come up with a plan?”
“That suits me,” she said.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Leah’s last name was Williams. Clint figured her age at thirty-three or thirty-four, which also suited him. She was old enough to take care of herself, but not too old.