“What brings you to Tombstone, Scott? If you don’t mind my asking, that is.”
“No. I don’t mind. I came looking for some friends of mine. Only I found out they’d been killed. Maybe you knew them. Ben Summers. Josh Billings and Joe McEnery?”
“Oh. My, yes!” she said. “They were friends of yours? It was an awful thing, what happened. They were real gentlemen, all three of them, always so nice and so polite. Never pawing at you like a lot of men do. Ben and Josh were always friendly, but Joe was kind of sweet on me. He used to sneak over sometimes to see me, when the others weren’t around. See, they were all supposed to be saving up to buy a ranch together out in Oklahoma and he didn’t want the other two to know that he was spending any of it on me.
“I see,” said Scott. What he hadn’t wanted them to know was that he was going to a hooker. That son of thing was against regulations, though it was known to happen. Observers were only human, after all, and long-tem postings had their hardships.
“You don’t approve of me.” she said.
“No. I wouldn’t say that. A girl has to make a living. I’d say that Joe McEnery had good taste.”
She lowered her eyes demurely. “It’s sweet of you to say that, Scott.”
“Did you see Joe often?”
“Every now and then.”
“Did he ever say anything about anyone in town he might be worried about? Someone he had trouble with, perhaps, or someone new in town who looked suspicious to him?”
“Well, he did ask some questions, once or twice,” she replied. “He seemed curious about that Mr. Drake and a few others.”
“Mr. Drake?”
“Oh, well, he had a room right here in this hotel, but he checked out and left town. Nathan Drake, his name was, a rich man from hack East somewhere. He came out here looking to make some investments, like a lot of people do. He wasn’t interested in silver, I don’t’ think, just property, only he didn’t find anything here that suited him. Then there was that Mr. Stone, from San Francisco. Joe was curious about him, as well. He’s a gambler and you can find him most nights in the
Oriental or the Alhambra He’s new in town, only came in a few weeks ago. And Zeke
Bailey. Joe asked about him, as well. Zeke’s a gunsmith, works for Mr. Spangenberg at his shop over on Fourth Street. He came to town about a month or so ago and old George Spangenberg, he says he’s just a wonder when it comes to tuning guns and fixing them. Zeke makes knives, too. Beautiful things they are. I’ve seen some of them in the shop. He has a little place just outside of town, where he’s got himself a forge and all. Zeke’s kind of quiet and keeps to himself a lot. And there’s a few other people that Joe asked about. To tell the truth. I think Joe distrusted just about everyone he didn’t know. Most folks around here think those three were greenhorns, nice enough, but city boys who didn’t know their business and were slowly going broke out there. Me, I think they made themselves a strike and didn’t talk about it, for fear of someone robbing them. I think they were hiding what they found till they were ready to pull out. Only it looks like someone found out about it anyway and killed them for it. I guess Joe was right to worry.”
The bottle was empty and Scott had only drunk two glasses.
“Oh, look at me!” said Jenny. “My, here I was rattling on so, I went and drank up all that wine and didn’t even notice! Now I’m feeling a bit tipsy. Scott, you naughty boy. I do believe you’re trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me!”
“I’d never take advantage of a lady.” Scott replied.
“Well, aren’t you the proper gentleman. But what must you think of me, talking so and drinking all that wine!”
“I think you must have been thirsty,” Neilson replied, with a smile.
“Now you’re teasing me!”
“Well, maybe a little. But I have enjoyed talking to you, Jenny. You seem to know a lot about what happens in this town. I’d like to try and find out what happened to my friends. You’ve been very helpful. Maybe we could talk some more.”
“You mean, like in private?” she asked, looking at him.
Neilson had been thinking about that. She did seem like a font of valuable information and information was exactly what he needed now. A friend like Jenny could be very helpful. Yet, if he turned her down, he might offend her. Or was he just rationalizing the fact that he was sexually attracted to her? He’d been rendered immune to most diseases, including those that were sexually transmitted, but he wasn’t sum if getting involved with her would be a very smart thing to do. On the other hand, he did need intelligence…
Before he could decide, he heard a loud voice say. “I’m lookin’ for the Montana Kid.”
“Oh. dear.” said Jenny. “It’s Ross Demming.”
“Demming?” Neilson said, looking over his shoulder.
“The brother of one of the men you killed. And the other man with him is Frank McLaury. Don’t say anything. Maybe they won’t know who you are.”
But Demming’s gaze had already settled on him.
“You,” he said. “You’re the one. You’re the polecat who shot my brother.”
The room had become completely silent, save for the sound of chairs scraping as people quickly moved out of the way. Neilson turned away from him and remained seated.
“He’s not wearing a gun. Ross,” Jenny said. “If you shoot an unarmed man, it will be murder.”
“You stay out of this. Jenny. It’s none of your affair. He murdered Jack.”
“It was a fair fight.” Jenny said, was there. I saw it. As anyone in town. Jack jerked his pistol first “
“I said, stay out of it!”
“Frank, you get him out of here before there’s trouble,” Jenny said, speaking to McLaury. “You have more sense. You get him out of here right now.”
“Jack was a friend of mine, Jenny. And Ross has a right to be upset about his brother bein’ shot down by some young gunfighter out to make a reputation for himself.”
“He’s got no right to shoot an unarmed man!”
“The Kid can have one of my guns,” said McLaury, pulling one of his Colts out of its holster. He held it out butt first. “Here, Kid. Take it. It’ll be a fair fight. They say you’re good. Let’s see how good you are.”
Neilson still sat with his back to them. His heart was beating fast and his stomach felt tight.
“I don’t want any trouble,” he said. “I’ve got no quarrel with you, Mr. Demming. Or with you, Mr. McLaury. What I did yesterday. I did because. I had no choice.”
“What makes you think you’ve got a choice right now?” asked Ross.,
“Take the gun, Kid,” said McLaury. “Unless you’re yellow.”
“All right.” said Scott. “I’m yellow.”
“You take that gun,” said Ross. “You stand up and take it, right now, or so help me. I’ll let you have it in the back.”
There was the sound of soft coughing behind Demming and a voice said. “Two can play at that game.”
Demming and McLaury both stood very still.
“This ain’t none of your affair. Holliday.” said Frank McLaury, without turning around.
“I just made it my affair. Wyatt’s on his way and so is Virgil. They heard you just rode into town and forgot to check your guns. Morg just got in on the stage, so I expect he’ll be along, as well. And I don’t think they’ll take too kindly to your actions. Funny thing, though, how the sheriff never seems to be around at times like this. Where do you figure Johnny went?”
“Okay. Holliday.” said Frank McLaury. “You win. This time. Come on. Ross. Let’s go.”
“Before you turn around. Frank, put away that six-gun, nice and easy. I wouldn’t want to chance your pulling a border roll on me. Hear Curly Bill’s right good with it and he’s been teaching you.”
Slowly. McLaury put away his gun and turned around, with his hands held out from his sides.
“Okay? Now if you stand aside, Doc, we’ll be going. Come on, Ross.”
Demming shot a hard look at Neilson. “This isn’t over, Kid. Not by a long shot. You hear me. yellowbelly? It isn’t over!”