“Lay still, little Injun bitch! Not many men take you this way, do they? You’re getting what I didn’t give another little Injun gal, but that’s okay, too!”
He must be hurting her, ramming into her this way, but he didn’t care about anything but the throb in his groin. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about getting a baby.
Carter laughed at the thought, ramming into her savagely. She still struggled, but she was helpless with his weight on her back, and he knew it. “Stop fighting, bitch! It’ll make it easier on you!”
He jerked back harder on her head, squeezing her breast as he rode her from behind. She stopped fighting abruptly. Good! That made it a little easier to enjoy her. Probably she was passed out drunk, but Carter didn’t care. He had no objections to using an unconscious woman.
With a sigh, he rammed into her limp body one last time and gave himself up to ecstasy. He lay on her a long moment, reaching under to stroke her breasts. No, there was nothing like her in Boston. He’d have to come back first chance he got.
Finally, he stood up and began to dress. “Deer?”
No answer. Dead drunk. He snorted in disgust, looking at the naked brown beauty sprawled on her belly. Deer might complain to her boss when she finally came to–if she could remember what happened. But he had a feeling Indian girls were expendable; the management could always find another pretty one to pass off as an Egyptian Princess–especially when this one had a drinking problem.
He picked up the token and went out into the hall. Somehow, he had a feeling someone around here knew how that token got on a dead brave. Maybe he should go back and get Cody and Luther . . . or wait until morning.
Carter shook his head and checked his Colt again as if to reassure himself it was loaded. The wine and the rape had made him feel reckless, potent. He wasn’t going to share the credits. He’d investigate this all by himself.
When he ran across a girl in the hallway, he winked at her. “Direct me to your boss, honey.”
She led him down another hallway and pointed to a door. Carter hesitated. Maybe he should go back and get the others. He didn’t feel quite so brave now that he was sobering up, and realized that if he disappeared without a trace, the pair back at the hotel would never really know for sure what happened to him. Downstairs, the noise and laughter had subsided. Even gamblers and whores finally go to bed, he thought, as he rapped.
“Who is it?” A woman’s voice.
“Lieutenant Carter Osgoode.”
“Who the hell is Carter Osgoode?”
She might decide against opening the door.
“A handsome, daring devil who needs to talk to you about business and money.”
She laughed. “Business and money always interest me!”
There were sounds of discussion, a man’s voice. Obviously he didn’t want her to open the door.
After a moment, the lock turned and a woman in a scarlet negligee opened the door. She was a very beautiful, dark woman whose expression said she had lived hard. It showed in her face. “Okay, handsome, daring devil, what is it you want to talk about?” She leaned against the door, ready to swing it shut on him.
He smiled to disarm her. “This is hardly to be discussed out here in the hall.” Actually, he was bluffing, fishing for information.
She frowned at him. “Look, kid, if you need a woman, you go find one of my girls, I don’t–”
“It’s about Indians and running guns.” Carter reached out to stop her from shutting the door.
She hesitated. “So what’s that to me?” But her purring voice went tense and her dark eyes widened, betraying she lied.
“A cavalry patrol killed a warrior the other day. One of the dead braves had a necklace of these.” He reached into his coat and pulled out the brass tokens.
“So I still say what’s that to me?”
He gave her a long look, pretending he knew more than he did. “Do you want to talk about it with me or do you want to face the authorities?”
She hesitated, looking behind her. “Come in.”
He followed her into her room, watched her close the door. The room was overdone in the height of Victorian decoration–burgundy horsehair furniture, big cabbage roses on the wallpaper, knickknacks and trinkets everywhere. It smelled like old perfume and cigar smoke.
Carter looked around. A cigar still smoldered in an ashtray on the ornate walnut table near the sofa. “Who else is here?”
“Nobody.” The dark beauty pulled the filmy thing around her full breasts and settled into one of the burgundy chairs. “I don’t know anything about tokens taken off some Cheyenne.”
He didn’t sit down, and he kept his gaze on a closed door–bedroom, probably. “I didn’t say he was Cheyenne. How did you know that?”
She looked confused. “I–I don’t know. They’re the ones on the war path, aren’t they?”
Carter put his hand on the butt of his pistol uncertainly. He was a poor shot. Now he wished he had practiced more, or waited and brought the others with him. “Tell your cigar-smoking friend to come out.”
She hesitated, looking from him to the door. “Billy, come out.”
The door swung open suddenly, and before Carter could react, he found himself staring into the muzzle of a double-barreled shotgun held by a handsome man in his middle thirties. “Okay, sport, now what the hell is it you want?”
Carter backed away, making sure he made no sudden moves. “I–I was bluffing. I don’t know anything.”
The man came out into the lamp light. His front two lower teeth were missing, and a diamond stickpin reflected the light. The man gestured toward the sofa with the shotgun. “Sit down, Lieutenant.”
Carter stumbled in backing toward the sofa. He was so scared, he was afraid he would wet his pants and then what would the beauty think? “I-I’ m not the only one who knows. The army knows a lot. If anything happens to me–”
“Now, what ever gave you that idea, sport?” The man grinned. “We just need to talk, that’s all. If I blow you in half, Lily here will say she did it to protect herself against a drunken soldier who tried to break into her room.”
He was so afraid, his voice shook. “I’m not drunk.”
“Who’ll know that when she finishes pouring liquor all over your body? Lily is an institution in this town, soldier. They couldn’t find a jury who would find her guilty of anything except running the best parlor house this side of the Mississippi.” He laughed, reached for his cigar, and rested the shotgun on his knees.
“I–I don’t really know anything, I was just bluffing, that’s all.” Carter brushed back his brown curls. He felt bathed in cold sweat.
“There isn’t anything to know,” Billy said soothingly. “A string of tokens don’t mean anything.”
“Billy,” the woman scolded, “I told you it was stupid to give that Injun–”
“Shut up, Lily!”
“For all the army knows,” Carter said, “the Injun took the tokens off dead miners’ bodies.”
Billy sat smoking his cigar and looking at him. “Why did you come alone?”
Maybe he could yet work a deal. “I–I thought maybe we could do a little business. I hate the army. I’d like to make a little money and clear out of here.”
“Did, huh?” Billy relaxed a little. “Then maybe you’re my kind of man. I like a man who knows what he wants and goes after it!”
Carter sighed with relief. The woman smiled at him, her negligee falling off one tawny shoulder in a teasing manner. “Drink, soldier?” Her voice almost reached out and stroked his body. He nodded.
She went over, poured him a whiskey while Billy put the shotgun to one side, and offered him a cigar.
Carter leaned back in his chair, drink in one hand, an expensive cigar in the other. “I might even be able to help you in this.”
Billy laughed. “I doubt we need it. There’s big-time money and connections from back East involved. They only lose if the Indian trouble is over and the hostiles go back
to the reservation.”
Carter blinked in disbelief. “They’d sell the guns to kill our own men?”
“You are naive, aren’t you?” Billy smiled. “Someone always makes money in a war.” He reached for the brass tokens and stared at them.
“Well, I want my share.” Carter sipped his drink.
Billy shrugged, running his tongue around his gapped teeth. “There’s enough to go around. You talk to anyone around here, let them know why you came?”
Carter thought fast. He needed an alibi so they’d know he couldn’t just disappear without a trace, They’d think twice before they double-crossed him and murdered him. “Sure,” he lied, “that girl in the punch bowl knows everything. I ended up in her bed; told her why I had come, and for her to let the army and the sheriff know I was going to Lily’s room to investigate if I should turn up missing.”
Billy’s eyes widened. “Aw, you didn’t really think you were in any danger, did you? Hell, I can use a smart man in this deal. Maybe you could go to work for me full-time after you get out of the army. There’s plenty of easy money, whiskey, anything you want.”
“Anything?” He looked over at Lily, sitting with her negligee half open, revealing beautiful breasts. He had a sudden vision of himself mounting her from behind, riding her like a dark, wild filly.
“Anything, right, Lily?” Billy looked at the woman.
She got up, came over, and sat on the arm of Carter’s chair. “I like soldiers,” she purred, running her hand through his hair, brushing the brown curls off his forehead.
“Matter of fact,” Billy said, “I’m riding out in less than a hour to make a delivery to the Cheyenne. I need a man I can trust to go with me. You got a horse?”
Carter nodded, his senses reeling from the scent of Lily’s perfume. He had a terrible urge to pull her into his lap and bury his face between her breasts. He imagined her beautiful bare bottom bent over the chair arm while he grasped her narrow waist. . . .
“Swell, sport!” Billy said. “Now you go get your horse and don’t let anyone follow you. Meet me behind the Lily in less than an hour. We’ve got to be well on our way before dawn.”
Carter stood up slowly and Lily stood up with him, holding on to his arm, pressing her breast against his sleeve. Money. He’d have money. And maybe the services of this sultry, tawny woman. “Sure.”
Billy stood up. “Remember, don’t tell anyone. See you behind the place here.”
“You can trust me,” Carter grinned happily, turned, and left. He’d found his own gold mine, he thought as he went through the hall and down the stairs. And he wouldn’t have to work to get it. After all, he didn’t have any friends in the Fifth. Why shouldn’t he help arm the hostiles with new rifles? Maybe he could eventually figure out how to double-cross Billy and end up with the whole business and the woman besides.
Hurrying through the darkness, he went to the livery stable to saddle his horse.
Billy stood holding the brass tokens, staring after the soldier.
Lily looked at him, “So what you gonna do?”
He signaled her to keep quiet until they heard the lieutenant’s footsteps on the stairs. Then he stuffed the tokens in his vest and began to curse. “Of all the damned bad luck! I only had you let him in in the first place because I thought he might have heard my voice and was one of Manning’s men,”
“So now what? He could ruin everything. Looks like the kind who would brag around, tell everything he knew!”
“He’s dumb as a box of rocks, anyone can see that! So he goes with me to meet the Injuns–and never comes back. Who’s to know what happened if he disappears without a trace?”
“But if lots of people saw him down at the bar–”
“Lily, lots of men come in here, have a drink. You can say you saw him leave with a suspicious-looking character. Nobody can prove nothing.”
She wrapped her arms around herself and paced the floor. “Don’t forget, Billy, he said he told Deer everything!”
“I forgot that drunk Injun bitch!” Billy rubbed his unshaven face with annoyed agitation. “With a couple of drinks in her, she’d tell anything!”
“She’s already a big problem,” Lily complained. “The other girls are talking about how sloppy drunk she get at night. She’s fast becoming a real liability.”
He fingered his diamond stickpin. “Let me talk to her. I’ll think of something.”
She came over and slipped her arms around his neck. “I love you, Billy. I keep hopin’ maybe we can go away together. I almost puke every time Manning touches me.”
“Be patient a little longer, baby. We need to get our hands in his money. You wouldn’t want to run off to California dead broke.” Billy kissed her forehead. He did care about her and was glad that doctor had cured his problem. He wouldn’t want to give it to Lily. Curses on the bitch who had given it to him!
“But what about Deer–?”
“Let me handle everything, Lil.” He stood up and pulled away from her. “You go on to bed and I’ll take care of things. You don’t know nothin’ about nothin’, if anything comes up.”
She nodded and kissed him. Then quietly, he left her room. The parlor house had finally settled down for the night. Billy tiptoed to Deer’s door and tapped lightly. No answer. A light shown dimly under the door.
“Deer? Are you in there?”
No answer. Very cautiously, he opened the door. Deer lay sprawled naked on her belly on the rumpled bed. “Deer?”
She didn’t move. Drunk again, he thought with a sigh. He wished he’d never brought the Pawnee girl here. True, her punch bowl act drew crowds, but so would any pretty girl nude in a punch bowl. He hadn’t told Lily he’d heard complaints about Deer’s taste for liquor, too. Billy knew from experience that drunks always had loose mouths. Whatever that green officer had told Deer, he didn’t want her telling the whole world.
“Deer?”
No answer. Billy went over to the bed. The lamp threw shadows on the wallpaper, on her beautiful naked body. Just what was he going to do about the girl? Ship her out of town? Sell her to some Comanchero off to the South who might have use for a pretty Pawnee? Billy had no stomach for killing, never had. Deep in his heart, Billy wasn’t the street brawler everyone believed he was. If there was fighting or killing to be done, Billy paid to have it done.
“Deer?” The first thing he’d have to do was sober her up. He reached out to shake her, then jerked back when he touched her flesh. It felt like cold brown marble.
Oh, my God. Deer was dead.
Chapter Fifteen
Oh, my God! Gingerly, Billy reached out and touched her again. Ice cold. Only then did he notice the odd angle of her head. Although he hated to touch her cold flesh, Billy moved her head and decided her neck was broken. Who in the hell would do something like this? The lieutenant? A man would hardly kill a girl, then come sauntering to Lily’s room to talk business. More than that, what was Billy going to do now?
Billy paced up and down a long moment, rubbing his chin. If he just left her, letting one of the girls find her in the morning, there’d be a murder investigation. Had Carter Osgoode been the killer? Billy sure didn’t need the sheriff looking for Osgoode, asking him lots of questions.
What a shame she hadn’t died accidentally in a way that no one would question–like maybe drinking herself to death. The police would investigate, sure, but not much.
What a helluva note! Billy ran his tongue around the gap in his teeth. How ironic! He needed to get rid of the lieutenant, but he couldn’t just turn him over to the authorities; he might talk too much. For right now, Billy had to save the officer’s hide.
Suicide. He stopped to think. If he shot her, put the gun in her hand . . . No, that would bring everyone running before Billy could clear out.
What about throwing her down the stairs so it would look like she tripped? Again he might not be able to get away before girls stuck their heads out the doors and saw him in the hall. If only the damned br
oad had drunk herself to death or drowned in that punch bowl. Nobody would think much of that. Certainly she’d tried to drink the Gilded Lily dry in the few days she’d been here.
The punch bowl. Billy went to the door and peered up and down the hall. Even the whores were asleep now. He went to the bed, and took a deep breath, and picked up the naked corpse, already stiffening in death. All he needed to do was get caught carrying a naked body down the hall. He’d be the one hanged for murder and maybe even Manning’s money wouldn’t help. Besides, then he’d have to explain to Manning what he was doing here in the middle of the night. The old sonovabitch could be meaner than a stepped-on rattlesnake.
Floor boards creaked under his feet as he carried the body down the hall. It seemed a million miles down those dark stairs.
A dim light shone behind the bar, but the place was deserted. He saw the silhouette of the big punch bowl still setting on the stage.
His pulse pounding with apprehension, Billy carried Deer over to the stage, then gently lowered her so that her naked upper torso was in the half-filled punch bowl. He pushed her face down in the red wine and put a cup in her hand. “Little Injun gal, looks like you finally get all you want!”
The authorities would look in to it, sure; but not much when the other girls talked about how Deer liked liquor. It would look as if she tried to drink the punch bowl dry all by herself. And anyway, who would get excited about a dead Injun girl? Wasn’t the army killing them every day? Not Pawnees, of course, but most whites didn’t know one Injun from another.
He took one last look, satisfied that this was the best answer. He wouldn’t warn Lily; that way she could be noticeably shocked when the girl was found. Now he had to do something about the lieutenant.
As Billy met his men and readied the wagons, he wondered if he could use Deer’s death and simply blackmail Osgoode into keeping his mouth shut. But suppose he was innocent of that or, worse, got scared and told the police about the gun running?
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