Through Darkest America

small piece of machined metal and a file no longer than her fingers. Holding the piece close to her eyes, she turned it in the sunlight, studying every angle intently. Finally, she ran the file over the tiny plane for a full minute, stopped, turned the piece slightly, then started on another. She worked in quick, short strokes. The frown lines deepened between her eyes and her tongue darted between white teeth to worry the corners of her mouth. When she was satisfied, she laid the file aside and started polishing the piece carefully with the corner of her shirt. The harder she polished, the more the shirt revealed of Kari Ann. Kari didn’t notice, or care to.

Howie groaned to himself and looked away. He dipped his head in the clay basin in the corner of his room and scrubbed his face vigorously. He didn’t dare turn around and face Kari now. She’d know right off what was happening to him.

Any other right-thinking girl’d get all excited and start crawling all over him, he thought grimly. Not Kari Ann, though. She’d likely roll over and kick her legs in the air and laugh herself sick. Howie knew plenty of girls in Roundtree—and he didn’t have trouble getting them in bed, either. All except Kari. Who lived right under the same roof and wouldn’t let him do anything but look. And hell, she let everybody do that. Kari didn’t seem to care one way or the other whether she was neck deep in a fancy dress or half-ass naked.

Just looking drove him plumb crazy, but he couldn’t stop. He’d never known a girl like Kari. She didn’t talk like anyone else and she sure didn’t do anything girls were supposed to do. Kari flat belonged under a man, but he was certain there wasn’t anyone in Roundtree getting to her. Looking was about all he’d ever get, he decided, unless he plain took what he wanted—and there’d be hell to pay for that. Pardo didn’t give a damn who laid who, but he’d kill Howie or anyone else who hurt Kari or scared her off. Pardo needed Kari Ann and wasn’t about to lose her; because no matter what she looked like, Kari knew more about guns than any man within five-hundred miles of Roundtree. She could take any weapon apart, fix it, and put it back together. If the right part couldn’t be found, why, she’d just squint up her eyes funny and figure out what ought to go where something wasn’t, and make one up out of her head.

It sure wasn’t proper work for a girl, but she was damn good at it, Howie had to admit. Even Klu and Jigger, who didn’t have much use for females of any kind, gave Kari a grudging respect.

No one knew where she came from, or how she learned all there was to know about weapons, and nobody much cared. Except Howie. And he wanted desperately to know everything there was to know about her. Most of all, he wanted to get her in bed so bad it hurt just to think about it.

“What kind of thing is that you’re working on?” he asked her. The sun from the window had dried her hair. It looked all fuzzy and bright around the edges.

Without looking up, Kari said, “You know anything about trigger assemblies for the .38 calibre revolver?” “No,” Howie admitted.

“Then it won’t do much good to tell you what I’m working on, ’cause that’s what it is.”

Howie felt himself redden. Kari looked up and winked mischievously. “Howie, you going to stand there all day?” She patted the bed beside her. “It’s your room. You can sit down whenever you want.”

“I’m… just fine here,” Howie lied.

Kari studied him with one eye. “You’re standing, because you like to look at me,” she announced gravely. “And you can see things better standing up. That’s the real reason, Howie. Why don’t you just say so? I don’t mind you looking… just don’t stand there pretending you’re doing something else.”

Howie swallowed. “You… make it hard for a man not to look, Kari.”

“Do I? How do I do that?”

“You know damn well what you do. You just nearly… show everything ’bout half the time.”

“Nearly everything?” She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Is that what you want, Howie?

 To see everything?” She loosened a button or two and let the shirt fall off her shoulders and down her arms. “There. There’s everything.”

Howie’s mouth came open. “Kari…My God, Kari!” He stared in wonder at the slim, almost fragile body, the perfect little breasts tipped with amber. His throat went dry and he ached so much he could hardly stand it. He let his eyes touch every part of her. He was sure he could circle his hands clear around the tiny waist and the small, flat belly just the color of honey. All he wanted to do was gather up that slight bundle of nakedness and hold it tight against him forever.

Kari watched him and he could see where her eyes were going. “Howie, you want to lay me something awful, don’t you?”

“More’n anything, Kari!”

“Hmmmm.” She put one small fist under her chin and studied him coolly. “Yeah, I guess you do. I wondered, ’cause you never asked… all you do is look.”

“Can… can I, then?” He could hardly believe what was happening.

“No,” she said absently, “you can’t, Howie.” She slipped the shirt back over her shoulders and picked up the metal part and the file.

“God damn, Kari.” Howie’s legs turned to water. “You can’t do things like that. It ain’t right!”

Kari ignored him for a long moment, then looked up curiously. “I was wondering, Howie. Why do you stay here with Pardo? You don’t really belong in Roundtree, you know?”

“Huh?” Howie stared at her. “What… what you askin’ something like that for?”

“Just wondering,” she shrugged. She held the part up to the sun and squinted at it. “Why don’t you kill him, Howie? You want to. Bet you can just about taste it.”

“What do you want to do,” he said harshly, “watch?”

Kari put her hands in her lap and considered. “I don’t know… I don’t guess I ever thought about it. Not really. I might, though….”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Lew Renner didn’t come back that evening from his ride out to Yargo’s. It was only an eight-mile trip each way over easy country and there was no reason to spend the night. Unless, someone suggested, Ben Yargo had gotten Lew drunk on white corn and they’d both forgotten about the horse deal.

Pardo was mildly annoyed, but said nothing. He had more on his mind than trading a few mounts, what with the big gun deal with Hacker underway. In the morning, though, he sent Klu and Jigger out to look—riders were easy enough to come by, but a good horse was something else again.

They found Lew in a dry creek not three miles from town. There were cold embers nearby, and bootprints that didn’t belong to Lew. From the looks of him they’d started at his feet and worked up, using the fire to heat their blades. They quit carving just above the waist, and didn’t leave much below. Lew had either died on them, or they’d found out what they were after.

“Most likely he just give out,” suggested Jigger. “Whoever done it sure weren’t much good.”

Klu and Jigger carried the body into the front room of the Keep to show Pardo. Jigger touched it scornfully with his boot and shook his head. He thought the whole business had been handled badly. There were a lot better ways to make a man talk and most of them didn’t take all night, either.

Pardo didn’t say anything. He studied the body thoughtfully a moment, then took off for town, taking Klu and Jigger with him. Howie helped bury Lew back of the Keep. The day was turning hot and the job was done quickly without ceremony.

The minute it was over Howie climbed to his room and shut the door behind him. He couldn’t forget that it might easily have been him out there under the hard earth, if he hadn’t stood his ground with Klu. He thought again about maybe telling Pardo of his encounter with the stranger. For certain, the skinny little man was in some way responsible for what had happened to Lew.

To hell with it, he decided. Pardo had gotten the message plain enough: someone was pushing him hard, and