“You probably know a lot more about that than I do.”
“Hell, no, Skye. I tame towns. That means I use my fists and my gun. Not my brain. Besides, we’d make a good team.”
Fargo shook his head. “I’m not a detective and I’m leaving town tomorrow morning.”
“I’m in a bind here, Skye.”
“Well, you’ve been in binds before and you sure seem to have done all right.”
“If I could take you to the town council with me—tell them you’re helping me with this—”
“Who’s your friend, Sheriff?”
Fargo glanced up to see a pretty but worn dance hall girl with her dark hair pinned up around a blue ribbon. A deep-cut neckline revealed delectable full breasts. She was older than the others and in a few years would be too wasted to compete with the new girls. But for now she was vivacious despite her fading looks.
“Mame, this is my old friend Skye Fargo. They call him the Trailsman.”
“I like the company you keep, Sheriff.” Mame’s blue eyes traced Fargo’s face, obviously liking what she saw. “Handsome man.”
“Hey, I thought you said I was the handsome man.” Cain winked at Fargo.
“Well, I’d say you have some competition.”
“I may just throw you in jail, Mame.”
“Long as you put me in the same cell as Mr. Fargo here.”
“How about this, Mame?” Cain said, taking her hand. “If you want to get to know Skye better then you have to help me convince him to stick around and help me find who’s been killing these boys.”
The playfulness left Mame’s voice. “I feel so sorry for Karen and her mother. Not everybody in my line of work gets treated well. But the Byrneses have been nice to me since the day I got here.”
“Then while I go get us some more drinks, you sit here and convince Fargo to stay.”
Mame took Cain’s place. Fargo liked her face the more he studied it. Intelligence and caring there. She probably had the same story most soiled doves did, running away from a bad family somewhere on the plains of the Midwest and ending up whoring because she couldn’t figure out anything else to do. The trouble was, a man could only hear that same story so many times without being cynical. Must have been something else some of these girls could’ve done besides lying down for very little money. But he’d taken to Mame, no doubt about it.
“I knew all three of those boys.” She smiled. “And you can take ‘know’ any way you want. I’m a businesswoman. I run the girls here and I want to make a profit for the saloon and myself as well.”
“Any idea what’s behind somebody killing them?”
“Not specifically. But a while back they started acting nervous.”
“All three of them?”
“Yes. Especially Clete. He wasn’t as tough as the other two anyway. I could always read his face. If he was unhappy about something, I could tell. Same with when he was worried. And lately he’d been worried.”
“How about the other two?”
“They didn’t strike me as worried exactly. But they started getting into fights here. They were usually pretty easygoing. But something had riled them up and they stayed riled up right up to the time they got killed.” A long slender hand eased across the table and covered Fargo’s. “Tom must have a lot of faith in you. I don’t ever recall him admitting that he needed help. That surprised me. And that means that he thinks you might know how to solve this. And believe me, this town needs it solved. Everybody’s scared.”
“Like I told him, Mame, I’m not a detective.”
“You’re probably more of a detective than Tom is. He thinks with his fists.”
“So do I pretty much.”
“I’ve made a study of men’s eyes, Mr. Fargo. I can pretty well size them up just by watching how they react to things. I know your reputation as a fighter and a gunman but you’re also intelligent. You can work through things. And that’s what we need now. The men who come in here and get beered up are a pretty good cross section of town. People are getting worked up. They’re starting to look at their neighbors, wondering if they might have something to do with it. I’ve seen it happen in towns before like this. It can get pretty ugly.”
Cain was back with two schooners of beer and a shot of bourbon for the lady. “Well, I’ll bet you’ve convinced him to stay on for a while. You never miss.”
“I told him you weren’t smart enough to figure this out on your own.” She smiled. “Sorry. But that’s the truth, Tom.”
“My biggest admirer. Or couldn’t you tell that, Skye?”
Skye smiled. He imagined that Tom and Mame had spent many a night together and that they’d become skilled hands at joshing each other this way. One of the other girls appeared and bent down and whispered something to Mame. The woman stood up. “Need to take care of a little business. I hope I see you again, Skye. I think we could get to be good friends.”
After she’d gone, Cain said, “That woman knows more about sex than even I do.” Then: “So did she convince you?”
“Afraid not, Tom.” Fargo stood up. Yawned. Stretched. “I’m turning in, Steve—Tom. Need to get up early. And I won’t be seeing you again.”
“That town council’s after me, Skye. I really need—”
“Won’t do any good, Tom. I’m leaving town.”
“I could give you some money, Skye—”
“I told you. I want to go see my friends. That’s more important to me than money. So, so long, Tom. I’m sorry but that’s the way it’s going to be.”
He left the lawman sitting there lifting his drink to his scowling face.
4
In the morning, Fargo shaved, washed up, dressed and packed his saddlebags. At the window of his room he stood smoking a cigarette and looking at the magnificent snow-peaked mountains. Dawn was streaks of soft red and yellow in the sky, staining the mist in the mountains the same colors. It would be a good day to travel and he was eager to get out of town.
In the lobby he noticed three young women sitting on a long couch. They watched him with obvious interest. He tipped his hat to them as he walked out the door. One of them was somebody he might like to spend time with under other circumstances.
The main street was just starting to come alive. Vehicle traffic was light but he could see laborers huddled into heavy jackets making their way to work sites. They had to start early these days because dusk came early.
He’d slept well and felt strong. He decided to eat a solid breakfast before heading for the livery. The food would hold him till nightfall when he had to make camp.
The interior of the cafe was lost in the smoke of cigarettes, pipes, cigars and the grease it took to prepare too many breakfasts in too little space. Fargo decided to fight smoke with smoke as he waited for his steak and eggs and potatoes. He sat at a wobbly table in back that had just been vacated and lighted his cigarette. At least the smoke was his own.
When he finished his food, he stood up, patted his stomach, slid on his hat and walked outside—right into the three young women he’d seen in the hotel lobby.
“We’d like to talk to you, if we may, Mr. Fargo. My name’s Denise Haller. My younger brother was one of the boys who was murdered recently.” Denise was full-bodied with auburn hair. “And this is Rebecca Nolan. Her brother was killed, too.” Rebecca was a buxom brunette. “And this is Karen Byrnes. You brought her brother’s body in yesterday.” She was a blue-eyed blond young woman more handsome than pretty.
“I’ll tell you, I’m trying to get out of town here as soon as I can. But I guess I can spend a few minutes.”
“We’d like to hire you.”
“Hire me? For what?”
“To find out who killed our brothers,” Karen Byrnes said.
