A Different Trade (14 page)

Still straddling Clint's hips, Jade reached up into her thick black hair. She arched her back, displaying her proud breasts as she removed a thin polished stick that had been keeping a portion of her hair in place. With the snap of her wrist, she pulled the stick apart to reveal a short stiletto blade that had been hidden within the stick. Before Clint could make a move, she pressed the tip of the blade against a tender spot on Clint's inner thigh.

“What's this about?” Clint asked.

“You have become a liability to Mr. Dhang,” Jade said.

“And that's why you're going to stick me in the leg?”

“I am sorry, but that is why I must kill you.”

“Better men have tried with much heavier artillery than that,” Clint replied.

Jade smiled while slowly twisting the tip of the stiletto against Clint's leg. “All I need to do is open this artery and you will bleed out faster than if you were shot.”

“That's a hell of a way to treat a man while you're still sitting on top of him.”

“Is it not the best way to die while the pleasures I have given you are still fresh?”

Clint had to admit that would be a damn fine way to go, but he wasn't about to say that to her. “You could always let me go,” he offered.

She shook her head. Now that the stick had been removed from her hair, Jade's long black mane hung loose to make her look even more like a jungle cat. “The order has been given and there is nothing for me to do about it. At least the two of you will leave this world with the taste of life's greatest pleasures fresh on your—”

Ingrid pounced at her with both arms stretched out, catching both Jade and Clint by surprise. Jade fell straight back, pinning Clint's legs to the bed. Although he was trapped in an awkward position, he was grateful that the sharp, slender blade had been forced well away from his leg and the other vital spots in that general vicinity.

“Too much talking,” Ingrid said as she delivered a right cross to Jade's head.

Even though Jade took the punch well for someone her size, she was knocked completely off the bed and hit the floor in a tangle of smooth legs, long hair, and scrambling arms. Somehow she managed to right herself and snap a quick punch to answer the one she'd been given. Having caught Ingrid before she could take another swing at her, Jade got to her feet and shouted something at the door.

“Clint!” Ingrid said.

In the flurry of commotion that had descended upon that bed, he'd rolled off the side and landed on his feet. When he heard Ingrid call his name, he stood up straight and caught the pistol she'd tossed his way. The little Derringer was swallowed up in his hand, but his finger found the trigger quickly enough.

When the door was shoved open, Clint waited just long enough to get a look at who was coming in. It was no surprise to see the burly guard come stomping in like a bull. Not only was he holding a .44, but he brought the pistol up and took aim at Clint. The instant he saw that, Clint fired from the hip. The Derringer popped once, causing the big man to flinch. Clint took more careful aim and squeezed off his second shot a split second before the other man could fire. That bullet caught the guard in the forehead and snapped his entire upper body back. Another shot cracked through the air, and when Clint turned to see what had happened, he found Ingrid holding the second Derringer in her grip.

“She . . . was going to kill me,” Ingrid gasped.

Jade lay crumpled on the floor. She let out a groan, rolled onto her back, and showed the bloody wound in her ribs.

“She'll make it,” Clint said as he walked over to take the pistol away from the dead man in the doorway. On his way back into the room, he kicked the stiletto away from Jade's hand. “Let me know if anyone else comes along.”

Ingrid was stunned, but she nodded and watched the door while Clint pulled on his pants, shirt, and boots. When he was dressed, he asked, “Is there any law around here?”

“There's a county sheriff in the next town.”

“That'd be a no. Can you keep an eye on her for a short while?”

Ingrid nodded. “I'll tie her up before she gets any ideas.”

Since Jade was still sluggish after receiving the shallow bullet wound, Clint figured she wouldn't be much of a threat anytime soon. “If she gets a second wind,” he told her, “don't hesitate to put her down.”

He'd said that mostly for Jade's benefit and she cringed in response to the threat. Although Ingrid seemed nervous, she gained some confidence when Clint went back to the guard, searched him, and then tossed her the holdout pistol he found in the bigger man's boot.

“When you hear things quiet down, get the hell out of here,” he said.

“What about you?”

“I'm going to make a bit more noise.”

If there was one advantage to gunfire, it was how quickly it could clear a room. As Clint headed for the stairs, he crossed paths with only one armed man on the second floor. All the gamblers were either gone or hiding under tables. That single gunman wasn't expecting to see anyone storm down the hallway, and he dropped to the floor when Clint fired a warning shot into the ceiling over the man's head.

Clint ran down the stairs, holding the dead guard's .44 in plain sight as a warning to anyone who might get in his way. Although there were more armed men on the main floor, none of them tried to get in his way. Upon reaching the door that led to the street, Clint meant to ask where he could find Ki Dhang. He got a good idea of where he needed to go when he heard gunshots from the other side of Sharp Bend.

Women screamed from inside the cathouse. Something cast a large shadow on the front window before the glass shattered from the impact of something large being tossed outside. Clint tensed while sighting along the top of his barrel. The man who'd been thrown outside was wrapped partially in the curtains that had been yanked from the windows and were slowly pulled aside by a bloody hand.

“Hello there, Kurt,” Clint said while smiling down at the battered bald man cocooned inside thick layers of purple velvet. “This just ain't your day.”

“Adams! Thank God!” Kurt scrambled to free himself from the curtain and climb to his feet. When he saw Clint point the .44 at him, he quickly tossed away the gun that he'd almost forgot he'd been holding. “Them Chinese are out of their damn minds!”

“What's going on in there?” Clint asked.

“They're about to kill each other!” Kurt had plenty more he wanted to say, but was silenced by an eruption of gunfire coming from the first floor of Miss Tasha's. Even Clint had to flinch as several pistol shots cracked amid the thunderous roar of a shotgun firing both its barrels in quick succession.

Having reflexively dropped to one knee, Clint waited until the shots faded before standing up again. When he saw Kurt looking to him for instruction, Clint told him the first thing that came to mind. “Run. If I see you again, I'll shoot you on sight.”

“Fair enough,” Kurt said before racing down the street like a horse bolting from a burning stable.

Clint approached Miss Tasha's, scooping up the pistol Kurt had dropped along the way. Since the window had neither glass nor curtains in it, he could see straight through to the front room. Every piece of furniture was overturned. Several men lay on the floor, crumpled and bloodied by whatever hell had been unleashed in that place. Striding down the stairs as if he were taking a stroll through a park, Ki Dhang made his way to the front door. He looked at the carnage, but seemed more puzzled by the shattered window and the fact that Clint was standing on the other side of it.

“Son of a bitch!” shrieked a voice from within the building. Screaming a string of obscenities in at least two different languages, Chow Sun stomped down the stairs carrying a pistol that seemed heavier than his entire body. “You die, bastard!”

Ki Dhang's expression hardly changed as he turned to get a look behind him. Even when he caught sight of the crazy old man coming down the stairs, he didn't make a move to defend himself.

Clint acted out of reflex. Bringing up the .44 he'd taken, he fired a shot that caught the old man in the chest and sent him tumbling the rest of the way down the staircase.

Another pair of armed men rushed into the front room from the direction of the parlor. Clint snapped his aim toward them to defend himself, but Dhang stopped those men in their tracks with a swiftly raised hand and a few clipped words. Looking to Clint, Dhang said, “You are a wise man, Mr. Adams. I appreciate your choice of targets.”

“I never did like that guy,” Clint said. “Now there's still the matter of you sending that woman to kill me.”

“Jade is but one of the traitors on my payroll whose head was turned by the lure of Chow Sun's money. Since you still live, I trust you have dealt with her?”

“She's alive.”

“Then I shall deal with her. I owe you a great debt,” Dhang said. “Chow was poised to do much damage to me and my business by dirtying my name with his filthy slavery. What happened here will not go unpunished. If there is something you require of me, you merely need to ask.”

“I'll get back to you on that.”

*   *   *

Clint went back to the Howling Hound to check on Leo. Before he even got through the front door, Leo rushed outside shouting, “She's gone! They took her!”

“Who's gone?” Clint asked. “Madeline?”

“No! Henrietta. Westin came by when all the shooting started down the street and grabbed her. I don't know where they went.”

“I believe I do.”

Clint had become an expert at navigating Larga Noche's twisting streets. He made it to Bale Avenue in no time at all thanks to cutting across several alleys and a few back lots. Following the simple directions Madeline had given to him, Clint found the little house that was supposedly being used by Westin Voss. When he saw Westin lean out a window to take a shot at him, Clint knew he'd found the right place.

The shot was hurried and sailed well above its mark. Clint ran in a crooked line to avoid catching any other wild shots and kicked in the house's front door as soon as he was close enough. Standing inside a modestly furnished room, Westin had his pistol in one hand and his other hand hanging on to the collar of Henrietta's dress.

“What are you doing, Westin?” Clint asked.

Westin's eyes were wild, and when they darted to a nearby door, he wailed, “No!”

The door creaked open just enough for Clint to see Samuel's face and the barrel of a shotgun. Without hesitation, Clint pulled the second gun he'd collected with his left hand and fired several shots through the door in a tight grouping. The one-armed man fell forward and dropped face-first into a heap.

“I've had enough of you,” Clint said. “Let the woman go.”

Petrified by how easily his partner had been sent to hell, Westin grabbed Henrietta's collar and pulled her close. She barely came up to his chin, but he hid behind her as if she were a brick wall. “The old man,” Westin sputtered. “He promised we'd all be rich.”

“Chow's dead,” Clint told him. “And so is anyone else associated with him. Because you're Leo's brother, I'll give you a chance to get out of town before Dhang comes looking for you.”

“Miss Tasha was in on it, too.”

“And I'm sure Dhang has plans for her.”

“I can't . . . I won't . . .” The more Westin tried to speak, the fewer words he could get out.

As Westin's gun drifted closer to Henrietta's temple, Clint growled, “Let her go, damn it!”

But Westin was too far gone. His eyes took on a crazy spark, prompting Clint to fire a shot that whipped over Henrietta's head and drilled through Westin's shoulder. When Westin hit the floor, Clint pulled Henrietta away and kicked his gun aside. “Next time you hide behind a prisoner,” he said to the wounded outlaw, “find someone taller.”

“Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you!” Leo said as he vigorously shook Clint's hand the following day.

“I think you've already thanked me a thousand times, but you're welcome all the same.”

“I appreciate you not killing Westin, even though he deserved it. Next time the county sheriff comes through town, he'll be taking Westin along with him.” Leo's face brightened when he added, “The good part is that after all that gun smoke cleared, Ki Dhang came by to make me a partner! He's headed out to California and he's letting me take over the Tiger's Paw! I can make any changes I like!”

“That's great, Leo.”

“Since Miss Tasha's nowhere to be found, her girls are working for me as well. Suddenly, I own three places instead of just one!”

“Just try not to name any of them after dogs,” Clint said as he tipped his hat to the excited barkeep.

Henrietta and Madeline were both waiting for Clint as he made his way to the door. The young singer gave him a hug along with a kiss on the cheek before getting back to the stage.

“Are you sure you can't stay?” Henrietta asked. “We could use you.”

“I think I'll decline. The saloon business is too difficult a trade for a man like me.”

Watch for

LET IT BLEED

397
^th
novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series from Jove

Coming in January!