Fargo put a hand on her leg. “I’d like to repay you for being so concerned about me.”
“You’re incorrigible.” Samantha sniffed. “And I’ll thank you to take your fingers off my person.”
Chuckling, Fargo did as he was bid but he contrived to run his hand from her knee to her ankle before doing so. “Nice dress,” he said.
“I should shoot you.”
“I can’t help you in the hunt if I’m dead.”
Despite herself, Samantha chuckled. “I’m beginning to regret sending for you. Your reputation as a woman- chaser doesn’t do you justice. You’re worse than that. You’re a satyr. Part randy man and part randy goat.”
Charles had climbed down and was going through Bucklin Anders’s pockets. “My Lord, this man stinks. Didn’t he ever hear of lye soap and water?” He found a cowhide poke and opened the drawstring. “Will you look at this? There must be five hundred dollars or better.”
“Blood money,” Samantha guessed.
“He have any friends that you know of?” Fargo asked.
“I never met the man so I couldn’t say.”
“I have no doubt that if he did they are as big an offense to the human nose as he was,” Charles said. He pulled a handkerchief out and covered the lower half of his face. “This is the first instance I’ve come across where a man smells worse before he’s buried than he will after.”
“Quit exaggerating,” Samantha chided.
Fargo headed back down the trail to claim the Ovaro. The shadow he acquired this time had four legs and a tail with a lovely in blue on top. “Want something?”
“Can I trust you, Mr. Fargo?”
“Yes and no.”
“I’m serious.”
Fargo stopped and looked up at her. He had to squint against the glare of the sun. “So am I. Yes, you can trust me to do the best I can to help you in the hunt. No, you can’t trust me if we’re alone tonight.”
Samantha let out a sigh. “You never give up, do you? You latch on to a woman and pester her until she gives in.”
“No. I let her know I’m interested. The rest is up to her.”
“I’ve made it as plain as plain can be that I’m not interested. Why, then, do you persist in your advances?”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You’re saying I don’t know my own mind?”
“I think you really want me but you’re pretending you don’t because that’s what you think a real lady would do.”
Lightning bolts danced in Samantha’s eyes. “Are you suggesting I’m
“You’re as ladylike as they come,” Fargo admitted. “Wanting a man doesn’t make you less of one. It makes you a woman.”
“Pardon my language but you confuse the hell out of me.”
“Good.” Fargo grinned and went into the woods. He unwrapped the reins from the oak branch and stepped into the stirrups. Truth to tell, he was enjoying his cat and mouse with Samantha. The more she resisted, the more he craved her. Something told him that if she gave in, he would be in for the time of his life.
Roland had stopped the caravan to wait for them. He told Fargo that he had wanted to come look for him but Samantha insisted he stay with the others. They got under way, and no sooner did Fargo rein into line than Tom and Cletus Brun were next to him.
“I hear you killed the man who shot my brother,” Tom said.
“His name was Anders,” Fargo hedged, and made it a point to glance out the corner of his eye at Cletus Brun. Sure enough, a scowl rippled across the hulking Missourian’s craggy face. “Ever hear of him?”
“Can’t say that I have, no.”
“How about your friend there?”
Brun’s head swiveled on a neck as thick as a bull’s. “I told you I’m not his friend. And I never heard of anyone called Anders, either.”
“He was a local.”
“So? I don’t know everybody in Hannibal,” Brun rumbled. “I keep to myself. I don’t like people all that much.”
“He was a hunter like you.”
“I just told you I didn’t know him. Are you calling me a liar?”
Fargo figured that now was as good a time as any to test his newest hunch. Casually placing his hand on his Colt, he said simply, “Yes.”
“Here now,” Tom said.
Cletus Brun surprised Fargo. He didn’t get mad or angry. All he said was, “What makes you think so?”
“He made mention of a partner he was working with,” Fargo revealed. “I think that partner was you.”
“Because I’m a local like he was? I suppose I might think the same if I was in your boots. But you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree. I never partner up with anyone.”
“So you claim.”
Cletus rubbed his chin and said very deliberately, “You pile on the insults. Seems to me you’re askin’ for a poundin’ and I’m just the coon to oblige. Before this weekend is out I’m goin’ to bust your bones.”
“You’re welcome to try.”
“Here now,” Tom said again. “I won’t have talk like this, you hear me? Especially from you, Mr. Brun. I’m the one who hired you. To hunt for me, need I remind you? Not to indulge your violent tendencies.”
“My what?” the block of muscle said, and laughed. “You and your fancy words. A man sticks up for himself and he’s bein’ violent? It’s a good thing you’re payin’ me good money or I’d as soon pound you as him.”
“Enough of this,” Tom said. “Come with me.” He reined around and his giant doppelganger went with him.
After that Fargo was left alone, which suited him as he had a lot to work out in his head. The way he saw it, he had at least three killers to contend with: the brown-eyed brother and sister, and whomever Anders had been working with. There was also the matter of who hired them. Since it was unlikely the same person hired both the brother and sister and the locals, that meant two of the four Clyborns were out to gain the inheritance at any cost. But which two? Charlotte was young and innocent. Samantha seemed genuinely to care for her siblings. Roland didn’t seem the type. That left Tom, and Fargo wouldn’t put anything past him.
The upshot, Fargo reflected, was that he better be more on his guard than ever.
Presently they came out of the trees into a clearing several acres in extent. Not a natural clearing, a man- made one where every oak and maple and pine had been felled to use as lumber in the construction of the Clyborn hunting lodge.
Fargo expected it to be big since the Clyborns never did anything on a small scale and he wasn’t disappointed. The lodge covered two of the three acres. The logs had been precisely laid, the gaps chinked with Missouri clay. It looked sturdy enough to survive the apocalypse. At no doubt considerable expense, glass panes had been brought in and a custom door mounted. As at the mansion, there were a number of outbuildings, including a stable.
Samantha took charge, giving orders like a military commander. A small army of servants leaped to obey.
Not an hour after arriving, Fargo found himself in a spacious dining room at a long mahogany table, sipping piping hot coffee. Samantha had gone off to talk to the cook about supper. Tom had gone upstairs to unpack, taking Cletus Brun along. So had Charles with his friend from the club. Roland was outdoors. That left Charlotte and her cousin, Amanda, and Theodore Pickleman. The lawyer filled a china cup and sat next to the women.
“Well, my dears. At six this evening I will read the part of the will that explains the hunt, and who knows? It could be you, Charlotte, who inherits everything.”
“I doubt that very much,” Charlotte said. “I’m no hunter.”
“If you are the one, I hope you will continue to retain me as the family attorney. I have always been faithful
