Devil's Paw

Chapter 2

When I woke near dusk, I didn’t clean up. It was when I headed toward a meal that I saw some men ride in, and there in the lead was Merle Bonner. A little hoot escaped me at such good fortune, but I’d had experience with circumstance and knew she could surprise you. Most often I’d spent weeks, even months, looking for a fellow, but on occasion it was the other way around. One time the fellow I was looking for sat next to me at a lunch counter. Watching Bonner and his gang pass by, I decided food could wait.

I have a quick eye, as a detective must, picking up on things others might miss. Merle Bonner rode straight in the saddle, walking his horse like he was on parade, which here, in who-cares Devil’s Paw, I suppose he was. A clean-shaven younger fellow rode beside him, more relaxed, not caring so much, while the two behind were laughing at something they’d spotted. I looked over to see a drunk relieving himself in the street. All this I took in while appearing to merely glance about the street, and as they moved on, I did, too.

The four passed Day’s Saloon to stop further down at Evergreen’s Saloon. Once they went inside, I followed. Evergreen’s was smaller than Day’s and had no piano or banjo man, just the bar to one side and some tables opposite. A couple of worn bar girls plied the customers.

I wandered to the far end of the bar and got a whiskey, which I sipped as I glanced at Bonner in the mirror. With hat pushed back, the face in the prison picture was gone; in its place, a rougher version, likely twenty-five, though he looked thirty, as that’s what prison does to a man. He wasn’t bad looking, sort of ordinary, like he could be a cowpoke who’s been on the trail too long.

The younger fellow who had ridden beside him took off his hat to reveal a head of copper-colored hair. It was a riot of curls, and when he laughed, his face lit up to where he fairly glowed. For a few seconds, before I caught myself, I glowed a bit, too.

The men were well along in their drinking when the two jokers who rode in with Bonner joined a poker game. Bonner then headed out back, likely to the privy, at which I moved in on the copper kid.

“Howdy,” I said, and he returned the greeting. “Where’s a good place to eat around here? I’m new in town.”

“Ain’t no good place,” he replied, “but Molly’s will do for a passable beefsteak.”

His eyes were as blue as the sky, and he was so handsome he was near pretty. As a result, I was stiff in my pants. “Thanks. I’ll give it a try. Any work around?”

“Depends on what you do.”

“Well, I can ride and shoot, have punched cattle, but don’t particularly cotton to it. Come over from New Mexico, Silver City to be exact. Had some trouble and had to leave quick, know what I mean?”

He grinned. “That I do. Name’s Frank Metty. Yours?”

“Walt Dowd,” I lied because I’m Lloyd Lasky, Whitlock Detective.

He gave a nod, eyes on mine a tad longer than necessary, and in those couple seconds, I knew he was up for something. Wouldn’t be the first time I’d led with my d**k. Quickest way to gain a man’s confidence is doing the deed, and no employer could object to a man taking pleasure in his work.

Frank threw back his whiskey, turned to face me, and adjusted his privates, like I hadn’t already caught on.

“I’ll be heading out to get that beefsteak,” I said. “You hungry? I’ll buy you supper.”

“Sounds good,” he replied and we set off to Molly’s, never mind we both knew where we were really headed. When we passed an alley I had to fight an urge to shove him in there and get at him, because a man that pretty needs roughing up. I didn’t do this, though, being on the job. I suspected Frank would have welcomed the detour, but we ended up across a table, eating steaks and drinking beer.

“You a miner?” I asked, as silver was the thing in Arizona. Didn’t matter he had none of the miner’s ragged look. Way too smooth, this fellow, but I needed to draw him out before I put it to him.

“Nope,” he said. He then turned things back on me. “What was it in Silver City that drove you out?”

I paused, as might a man taking care in revealing an illegal occupation, then said, “I rode with some fellows who liked to rob banks, and we had some trouble among us.”

Frank’s eyes widened and he couldn’t hold back a grin. “What kind of trouble?”

“Difference of opinion on how to split the take.”

“How’d that go?”

I leaned in close. “I shot them both and took it all.”

Frank sucked in a breath and lit up like he was about to come. Killing for some fellows was as thrilling as s*x. “You killed them?”

“Hell, yes. They was trying to cut me out when I’d taken the same chances as them. They wanted it all, seeing how they was pards.”

Frank’s hand slid below the table on hearing this and he flushed red in the face, so I kept on priming him.

“They wanted to take everything and go off and f**k, maybe while lying in the greenbacks.”

Frank couldn’t seem to add me up fast enough, so I helped him along.

“I’d f****d them both one time or another, but to hell with them shutting me out. We had a good thing going, then we didn’t.”

“You killed any others?”

“Only when necessary. You know how it is. Man gets in your way.”

He began to study me then, and I grew confident. More than one man had told me I was fine looking. I said nothing further, and when the meal was done, beers downed, I paid and we went out.

I lit a smoke, offered one to Frank, and we stood puffing and looking around until I said, “Let’s cut to it, Frank. I got a room at the hotel. Join me?”

“You bet.”

We tossed our smokes and all but ran to my room.