A Different Trade (11 page)

Clint reached out to grab the front of the boy's shirt and pull him outside with the same speed he would use to draw his Colt. Like many of the men who'd found themselves on the wrong end of that Colt, the boy who'd been on his way out of the cathouse gaped in surprise and struggled to catch his next breath.

After dragging the kid outside, Clint kept moving until he could duck around a corner and throw the boy against a wall. When the young man tried to speak again, Clint slapped his hand against the boy's mouth. The teenage boy stared at him with wide, petrified eyes without making another move.

Around the corner, Clint could hear the front door open and a few heavy footsteps knock against Miss Tasha's front porch. A pair of working girls were sitting out there, but they knew better than to get involved with other folks' business.

The door creaked open again and a woman said, “What are you doing, sweetie? Come back inside.”

“Who was just out here?” Kurt asked.

When he heard Kurt's voice, Clint reflexively pressed his hand tighter against the young man's face. Now that he'd had a moment to think, he recognized the boy as one of the teens who'd helped hang the new sign in front of Leo's saloon. When he wasn't on top of a ladder, the boy turned out to be a bit shorter than Clint had guessed.

“You,” Kurt grunted. “Who just walked through that door?”

One of the women on the porch answered the question in a slow, lazy voice. “Wasn't that just you?”

“Before me, you stupid bitch!”

“I guess there were some men walking out,” she said. “Imagine that. Men leaving a place like this.”

One heavy boot thumped against the porch. Even though he couldn't see anyone on there from his spot around the corner, Clint could hear a definite shift in the woman's voice when she said, “Take one more step and I'll start screaming. Then Armand will come out to check on me.”

Whoever Armand was, Kurt must not have wanted to draw his attention, because the next sound Clint heard was the creak of the front door again. “So you didn't see anyone?” Kurt asked.

“Just the sweet little thing that was with Sally.”

Clint glanced over at the young man in front of him and felt a smirk form beneath his restrictive hand.

After a few seconds, the dark-haired woman with Kurt purred something to him and the door was shut. Clint waited for a spell before risking a quick look around the corner. Miss Tasha's front porch was once again occupied by just the two working girls who rested there. The closest lady saw Clint right away and gave him a nod.

Taking his hand away from the young man's face, Clint pushed him farther down the alleyway. “What's your name?” he asked.

“W-Will.”

“First of all, I apologize for dragging you out here like this.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Not at all,” Clint said. “You know that man who was walking in right ahead of me?”

“Yes. He's one of the men that comes to the Dig Dog sometimes. Or . . . I mean the Howling Hound.”

“Right. Have you seen him very much?”

“Not really, but I know he's not the sort of man I'd like to see very often.”

Clint smiled. “You're a smart kid, Will.” Seeing the twitch on Will's face, Clint added, “Sorry. Not a kid. Do you frequent this place very often?”

Will shrugged as if he'd been caught at something. “I come around every now and then to talk to the ladies. I been saving up for . . . well . . . you know.”

“Sure I do. And that bit of money that Miss Henrietta gave you put you over the top.”

“That's right. Since it was my first time . . .” Will stopped himself and flushed in the cheeks.

“We all have a first time, Will,” Clint said as he took a look around. So far, nobody was taking much of an interest in their conversation. “Nothing to be ashamed of. Did she take care of you?”

“Oh yeah,” Will said through a grin that stretched nearly every muscle in his face. “Twice. She even let me sleep there and gave me a bath in the morning.”

It sounded to Clint like she'd overcharged him and then decided to make up for it. Still, he doubted any young man would be too angry about such a thing. That didn't happen until his fifth or sixth time.

“Sounds like a hell of a deal,” Clint said. “I've got another deal for you.”

Will scowled and recoiled a bit as he looked Clint up and down.

“Not that kind of deal!” Clint said. “I've got a job for you to earn some extra money. Might not be enough for another all-night party, but it should get you back in one of those ladies' good graces.”

“I'm just interested in one of them,” Will sighed.

“Of course you are.” Clint dug some money from his pocket and slapped it against Will's chest. “Here's half up front. I want you to go back in there and see if you can find out what that fellow is up to. The bald one. I'd go in, but he'd recognize me.”

“That's why you didn't want me to say your name when he was right there!”

“Smart lad. See if you can find out where he is in there and who he's with. Ask the girls, not anyone else. They're used to keeping secrets, and we don't need this one kept for more than a few minutes. If you have to, slip one of them a bit of this money and they'll give you something at least.”

“What if I can find out more?” Will asked.

“Then you'll get more when you come back. Just watch yourself. That man's a killer, so don't get too close.”

“Okay. I'll just ask around.”

“I'm not kidding here. Being stupid will only force me into something I want to avoid,” he explained while patting the gun on his hip. “If you get nervous or if he seems suspicious, come right back out here and find me. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

Since Will seemed nervous enough to be cautious but not jittery, Clint sent him on his way.

Will had been gone for less than a minute when Clint stepped back around the corner and onto the porch in front of Miss Tasha's. Both ladies who'd been out there before were still there now. One of them, a slender blonde in her twenties, sat in a chair with one leg draped over the arm in a way that caused her skirts to fall away just enough to present an interesting view to passers-by.

“Howdy,” she said. “Thought you were gonna hide in the alley all day long.”

“The view on this side of the building is a whole lot better,” Clint said. He took a bit of money from his pocket and offered it to her. “This is for before,” he said. “For when that bald fellow was asking about me.”

She took the money, folded it up, and slid it down the front of her body. After tugging the front of her dress down to expose one dark little nipple, she eased her clothing back into place and put the money into a pocket. “Yeah,” she said. “I thought you'd appreciate that. I don't care much for that one anyway.”

“Really? Why not?”

“He comes along like he owns the place. Like he owns us. He's rough when he's with us. He likes to throw us around when he takes us upstairs.”

Clint looked over to the other girl. She was younger and had a little more meat on her bones, which made her very easy on the eyes. The troubled expression on her face when the subject of Kurt had been brought up wasn't so pretty.

“Does he prefer any one of you over the other?” Clint asked.

Both women shook their heads.

“What about today? Do you know what he's doing in there today?”

“I don't care,” said the younger girl. “Just so long as he's not doing it with me.”

“Why all the questions?” the other woman asked. “He owe you money or something?”

“It's more than that,” Clint said. “Any way you could find out some more about him or any of the men he might run with?”

“Maybe,” the blonde said. “But it'll cost more.”

“Why?”

“Because they're dangerous.”

Clint stepped a little closer to the blonde with her leg hiked up on the arm of her chair. “Sounds like you already know a thing or two on the matter.”

“Could be.”

Digging into his pocket, Clint discovered he was almost out of cash. Leaving just enough to have something for Will when he came out, he took out one bill and discreetly gave it to her. “What's your name?” he asked.

The blonde took the money in an experienced hand, only to make it disappear quicker than if she were showing him a magic trick. “Ingrid,” she told him.

“Will you have something to tell me later tonight?”

“I can tell you a thing or two right now if you like.”

He shook his head. “It'll have to be later. How about seven o'clock?”

“You come back here and I'll be waiting,” Ingrid said.

“If I can't make it, can you come to me?”

“Where?”

“There's a hotel all the way down on Linden.”

“The place near Mackie's?” she asked.

“That's the one. Come by there if I don't show up here. Is that all right?”

She looked Clint over and seemed to like what she saw. “For you, sure.”

Just then, the front door swung open and Will stepped outside. He wore an excited look on his face and could barely contain himself once he spotted Clint. “Mr. Adams, I—”

Clint grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away from the front of the cathouse. As soon as they picked a spot in front of the neighboring store, Will said, “Sorry about that, but that fella you wanted to know about isn't in a spot where he can hear me.”

“You're sure about that?”

“Oh, yes. He's busy with one of the girls inside. They just went up to her room.”

“Do you know which room?” Clint asked.

Will nodded. “The end of the hall on the right. I even got a key.”

When Clint saw the key in Will's hand, he could hardly believe it. “Why the hell did you get a key?” he asked.

“I thought you might want it. Don't you want to go and see him? Isn't that why you wanted to know all of this? Anyway, my mother always says it's better to have more and not need it than not have enough.”

Clint took the key from him. “Smart lady. You're sure this is the right one?”

“Yeah. I did what you said and asked the girls. Actually, I just needed to ask one, and since she was the same one who was with me, I didn't need to pay her any more. She said none of the girls really likes that man or any of the others that have been coming around here.”

“How many others?”

“She didn't say,” Will replied. “But she did say that the fella you're after is kind of quick. Whatever that means.”

“All right, then,” Clint said as he handed Will the rest of his payment. “I won't waste any more time.”

Clint walked through the cathouse with purpose. Some of the women who weren't with customers watched him, but they knew when a man should be approached and when he should be left alone. One of them knew Clint a bit better than the rest, and she approached him straight away. Rather than trying to discourage her or steer her in another direction, Clint smiled broadly and wrapped an arm around the buxom redhead.

“Back for more?” she asked. “I knew you wanted something other than a tour of our parlor.”

“You are very right,” Clint said without breaking stride. “And that's why I came back. I don't believe I caught your name last time.”

“You never asked for it.”

“I'm asking now.”

“Why do you want it now?” she asked. “You're not interested in fucking.”

“How do you know?”

“Because you haven't done one thing to make me think you were. Why are you here, Clint?”

They were at the foot of the stairs leading up to the rooms where most of the working girls conducted their business. The redhead had a firm grip on Clint's arm and wasn't about to let go anytime soon. He turned to her and said, “This is as far as I need you to go. Just do yourself a favor and stay away from here for a spell.”

“Why? Are you going up to look in on Kurt?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because that sweet boy who was in here before asked about him and bolted from here like his tail feathers were about to be plucked. Now you show up.”

“All right,” Clint said. “Would it be a problem if I did need to have a word with Kurt?”

“No.”

“And if those words got a bit loud?”

She smirked. “Make that asshole squeal as loud as you can. Ain't none of us girls going to lift a finger to stop that. You might have a bit of trouble from Miss Tasha, though.” She let go of Clint's arm and rubbed his chin. “Don't worry about it none,” she said. “I'll keep this area as clear as I can for as long as I can. Just try not to shoot anyone other than him.”

She said that last part with a wink, and Clint allowed her to think that was a joke as he went upstairs and headed for the right-hand door at the end of the hall. Once he was there, Clint took a moment to wonder just how much he was going to trust a kid who he barely knew. He eased the key into the lock, turned it, and felt no resistance whatsoever. Putting his shoulder to the door, he eased it open as quietly as he could. As it turned out, he didn't need to be quite so cautious since the people in that room were more than a little preoccupied.

“Get on your knees,” Kurt said from his spot near the bed. He stood with his back to the door, naked as the day he was born and looming over a young girl dressed in nothing but an unbuttoned blouse.

Clint opened the door slowly, resisting the urge to hurry inside before Kurt could touch the young woman again. Once he got a bit closer, Clint saw that he was already too late on that account. The girl crawled off the bed and did as she was told. As soon as she was kneeling, Kurt took a firm grip of her hair with one hand.

A split second after the girl had caught sight of Clint entering the room, Kurt wrenched her head in the other direction while snarling, “Look at me, bitch.”

Although he couldn't see exactly how excited Kurt was at that moment, Clint could read what he needed in the other man's voice. When the girl attempted to pull away from him, Kurt brought up his other hand, which was wielding a hunting knife as he gripped the woman's hair with enough force to pull it from its roots.

“You know what I want, you damn whore,” Kurt said. “Now give it to me before—”

The barrel of Clint's Colt tapped against the back of Kurt's head, freezing him in his spot. “How about we take a moment to think about what the lady wants,” Clint said. “From where I'm standing, I'd guess she wants to get the hell out of this room. Am I right?”

“Y-Yes,” she replied.

“Let her go,” Clint demanded.

Remaining rooted to his spot without moving a muscle, Kurt said, “There's money on the dresser. Take it.”

“I'm not robbing you. Let her go. Now.”

Kurt released his grip on the girl's hair, allowing her to scurry away on all fours like a frightened rabbit.

“Collect your clothes and get out,” Clint told her.

She hurried to gather her clothes and was out of the room before anyone had a chance to say another word. After the door shut, Clint said, “Drop the knife.”

Kurt held his ground and didn't relax his grip on the hunting knife. “That voice sounds familiar.”

“It should.”

Without any regard for the precarious position he was in, Kurt turned around to look over his shoulder at the man behind him. “Oh yeah,” he said through a wide smile. “I kicked the hell out of you not too long ago. Your face is looking better. How are them ribs?”

“Better. How about you tell me why you're here.”

“If you don't know why I'm here, I must've hit you harder than I thought.”

“No. I mean why you're here in a shit hole town like this one when there are much greener pastures not too far away. You and Westin are into a lot more than wringing money from saloon keepers, right?” When he didn't get an answer, Clint thumbed back the Colt's hammer and tapped the end of the barrel once more against Kurt's head. “Right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kurt spat. “Right.”

“So tell me more about that.”

“The best I can tell you is to leave this room, leave this town, and do both of them things real quick.”

“So there truly is something good brewing around here,” Clint mused. “I know you're not exactly paid to think, but try to recall as much as you can about the business you and Westin are involved in. While you're at it, tell me just who the hell that one-armed asshole is who rides with you. You can use short words if that makes it easier.”

Kurt met Clint's eyes and said, “Real tough talk from the man with the gun. This would be a whole lot different if things were leveled out.”

“You want level, huh?” Clint said as he holstered the Colt. “I was hoping you'd say something along those lines.”