“How much?”
“Five dollars. After that you can pick out a girl and make your arrangements with her, depending on what you want.”
“I don’t see any girls,” he said, looking around the sitting room, “only men.”
“Well, all of our girls are busy at the moment. Would you like to stay?”
He took out five dollars and handed it to her.
“I’ll stay.”
“Thank you. I’m sure you won’t regret it.”
“Excuse me,” he said as she turned to walk away.
“Yes?”
“If all of the girls are busy…what about the hostess?”
She smiled at him and said, “I’m afraid that would cost you more than you could afford.”
“And it would probably be worth it, too.”
Her smile broadened—and became more real—and she said, “You’re very sweet. Please, have a seat and someone will be available shortly.”
“Thanks.”
Decker entered the sitting room, which was inhabited by cigar-smoking men who were engaged in conversation about various things. As he listened he heard some of them discussing business, and others discussing the merits of some of the girls who worked at the Palace. He counted almost a dozen men, and not all of them were Mexican, and not all of them were from his town.
He took a seat and lit up one of his own cigars, almost in self-defense. As he continued to look around the room he saw a couple of women come down the stairs, each of them Mexican and quite pretty. One was tall and full-breasted, while the other was shorter and slimmer. They each picked a man out who seemed to have been waiting for them and went back upstairs to work.
Decker was there almost a half an hour before he got what he wanted.
He was watching the steps from upstairs and recognized the man immediately.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a sheriff’s star on his shirt, but what clinched it was the face. It was the same smooth, handsome face that was on the poster in his pocket.
There was twenty-five hundred dollars, coming down the stairs.
Behind him a stunning blonde woman came down, and at the foot of the stairs the red-head was glaring up at the two of them. From what Decker could see the fact that they were coming down at the same time was probably a coincidence, but the redhaired Crystal apparently didn’t see it that way. She and Moran got into a heated discussion and Moran finally gave up and walked out.
Yep, Decker thought, things are sure heating up for Moran in this town. Shouldn’t be long before he made his move.
The blonde eased past the redhead and came into the sitting room. She saw Decker just as he was standing up to leave and came walking over to him.
“Are you waiting for me, lover…I hope? I’m Gloria.”
“Well, actually—” Decker said.
“He’s waiting for me, Gloria,” Crystal said, coming up behind the blonde.
Gloria turned and looked at Crystal in surprise.
“For you? But I thought—”
“This is by special request, dear,” she said, looping her arm through Decker’s. “Run along and take care of old Mr. Velasquez.”
The blonde looked over at the white-haired, beer-bellied man Crystal was talking about, then rolled her eyes and walked over to him.
“He’s the undertaker,” Crystal said, “and he smells like it.”
“Well, now that the joke is over,” Decker said, disengaging her arm, “I think I’ll be leaving.”
“Leaving?” Crystal asked, looking puzzled. “But you did ask me if I was busy, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but you said—”
“Well, I’ve changed my mind. I think you’ve been kept waiting so long that only the best will satisfy you.” She put her arm through his again and said, “Shall we go upstairs?”
Decker recognized that this was a very dangerous situation. Crystal was obviously Moran’s woman, and she was just doing this to get back at him after the argument they’d just had. At any moment, Moran could return and find them together.
Still, this was a place of business, and Decker really had nothing better to do with his time.
He looked at the creamy valley between her breasts again, and her green eyes, and said, “Yes, why don’t we?”
Chapter Thirty-one
The next morning Decker slept late, because he’d had a strenuous time at Crystal’s Palace the night before. Crystal had not been exaggerating her prowess in bed when she’d indicated that she was “the best.”
He could also afford the luxury of sleeping late because now that he had successfully tracked his prey and the man had no idea he was there, there was no need to rise early.
He had decided to give Moran until the end of the week—three days—to make his move. If nothing happened by then, he’d have to take the man by force and bring him back to the United States. From what he’d been able to gather, there wouldn’t be any great hue and cry once Moran was gone. The man had apparently worn out his welcome here—even with his pretty partner.
Crystal awoke to an empty bed. That hadn’t happened since she and Moran became partners, but she wasn’t sorry.
Moran had obviously not come home last night, but she found that she didn’t mind. The man she had taken up to her room with her had more than made up for Moran’s absence. In fact, he had made her realize that there was life after Moran.
She wondered how soon she’d be able to pay him back now that the business was going well. The original idea for the place
There were many men out there, and it would be silly to tie herself down to one.
She rose and decided to take a hot bath. She had not yet been able to provide a private bath for herself, so she had been using the one downstairs, which was also used by the rest of the girls. It was a small price to pay, and soon enough she would have her own.
On the way down she thought that maybe if she could find out what Moran had done—why he was hiding out here in Mexico—she could turn him in herself. If what he had done had netted him so much money, there was sure to be some kind of a reward.
Moran had slept at the sheriff’s office.
The argument the night before with Crystal had clinched it for him. All he had done was walk down the stairs, and because Gloria had been behind him Crystal had jumped to conclusions.
Well, Red Moran didn’t need that kind of grief from any woman, and he certainly didn’t need the shit this town was heaping on him.
When he’d gotten to his office last night, he’d found the mayor waiting for him.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Mayor?”
“Sheriff—uh, this is very difficult for me to say.”
“Well, just spit it out all at once, Mayor. That’s usually the best way.”
“The town council and I have, uh, reconsidered our position on your standing as sheriff.”
“Is that a fact?”
