The Sapphire Gun

by J. R. Roberts

  “What was that?” she whispered.

  Clint’s thumb was drawing a line between her breasts when he said, “I thought you liked that.”

  “Not that. I mean the sound. Did you hear it?”

  Clint stopped what he was doing and listened.

  “It sounds like it’s coming from the old room.”

  “Yeah,” Clint replied. “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  Upon his return, Clint had asked to be moved into the room next to the one he’d had before. The manager at the front desk had been perfectly happy to fill the request and even filled Clint’s second request, which was to keep the old room written in the ledger.

  In a matter of seconds, Clint was up, dressed, and had his Colt in hand. “Stay here,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  In the darkness, Clint was just able to see Victoria nodding.

  Clint opened the door gently so as not to make a sound. He tiptoed to the neighboring door, saw it was slightly ajar, and placed his free hand flat against it just above the handle. Once he’d steeled himself, Clint pushed the door open and jumped inside.

  Crouching between the bed and the window, Eli snapped his head around in surprise. He also had a gun in hand, but he didn’t move right away.

  For the space of a few heartbeats, both men stood where they were and stared at each other.

  Clint had switched rooms to guard against this very thing.

  Eli had gone from setting a trap to springing one in the blink of an eye.

  Now both men had to decide what they were going to do about it.

  FORTY-FOUR

  Eli was the first to move. He fired a quick shot while turning toward the window and then used his gun to smash out the glass.

  The room filled with the thunder of that shot, but the bullet buried itself in the wall well away from where Clint was standing.

  “Oh no you don’t,” Clint said as he launched himself through the air and over the bed. Clint’s stomach slammed against the mattress and his left hand clenched around Eli’s belt.

  Although Eli’s forward momentum carried Clint a little ways across the bed, it wasn’t enough to get him out the window. Clint pulled his arm back and dragged Eli away from the window, until the black man knocked against the small table beside the bed.

  Clint swung his legs over the mattress and jumped onto the floor. Eli brought his pistol around to aim at Clint’s head, but Clint grabbed the man’s gun hand and forced it toward the ceiling. Eli’s pistol barked once more and put a hole over their heads. As he felt Eli’s grip tightening again around the pistol’s grip, Clint forced his arm in another direction.

  Eli gritted his teeth and struggled to get away from Clint. He was simply out-manned, which was why he’d tried to run in the first place. Clint outweighed Eli by at least fifty pounds, and a lot of that was muscle. It wasn’t easy, but Clint was able to force Eli’s arm down toward the broken window.

  When he felt the first touch of broken glass against his arm, Eli turned to look at what Clint was doing. He saw his arm lowering onto a jagged shard of glass. That put some more urgency into Eli’s efforts, which got him to raise his arm a bit. That burst of strength didn’t last long before Clint leaned in and muscled through it.

  The glass sliced into Eli’s arm like a hot knife through butter. Clint tightened his grip and pushed down a bit more, until he felt Eli’s grip loosen. As soon as the gun dropped from Eli’s hand, Clint pulled his arm off the glass and threw Eli to the corner of the room.

  With the pain flooding through his arm, and the exertion of the struggle taking hold, Eli didn’t do much more than slouch against the wall. He grabbed the sheets off the bed and pressed them to his arm. “I was gonna run,” Eli said. “I wasn’t gonna shoot you.”

  “That’s only because you knew you wouldn’t walk out of here alive if you did.”

  Eli shook his head weakly. “I could’ve shot you in the street, but I didn’t.”

  “Why not?” Clint asked.

  Now that he’d caught his breath, Eli looked up at Clint and showed him a tired smile. “I signed on with them killers just to get out of jail. I did what I had to do until I got a chance to be rid of ’em.”

  “What about now?”

  “Now . . . jail’s looking pretty good.”

  Clint lifted Eli to his feet and used the sheets to tie his wrists together behind his back. When he stepped into the hallway with Eli in tow, Clint leaned toward his new room and found Victoria peeking through the cracked-open door. He told her, “I’m all right. I’ll be right back.”

  Once downstairs, Clint saw the manager of the hotel rushing out to meet him. “I sent for the—” was all he got out before the front door swung open.

  The sheriff stomped inside, and another man wearing a dark suit was following him. “What’s going on here?” the sheriff asked. “Was there shots fired?”

  “Yes, sir,” Clint replied. “And here’s the man who fired them.” With that, Clint shoved Eli toward the lawman.

  The man in the suit practically shoved the sheriff aside. “Does this man know about the assassins who killed the Western Union men?”

  “Oh yes,” Clint said.

  “Then I’ll take him.”

  Clint handed Eli over gratefully. “He’s all yours.”

  “Your name?”

  “Clint Adams.”

  The man in the suit nodded. “I’ve heard a lot about you. David Roper. I’m with the Pinkerton Agency.”

  “I suppose you’ll want to drag me over the coals with some more questions?”

  Roper shook his head. “I’ve heard so much about you, I’m sick of you.” Grinning, he added, “Everyone in town said you weren’t doing anything but trying to help around here. Every shot you fired was in self-defense and you can do no wrong. I’d appreciate it if you stopped by to fill me in, but it can wait until morning.”

  “No problem.”

  “Once I verify the identity of these killers, you’ll probably have a reward coming to you,” Roper continued. “They’ve got a hell of a price on their heads, and Western Union is paying it.”

  That wasn’t much of a surprise to Clint. Even though Galloway had been one of the men to hire the sapphire guns, it only made sense that Galloway’s superiors would pay to have the witnesses to the botched assassinations captured as soon as possible. For the moment, Clint just wanted to put the whole thing behind him.

  “I’d shake your hand, Adams,” Roper said, “but mine are full right now. Why don’t I buy you breakfast tomorrow and I can get you that reward? Some of my men will stay here just in case any more of these killers gives you any grief.”

  Clint was already heading back up the stairs. “I appreciate the thought,” he said. “But I think these fellows have had enough.”

  FORTY-FIVE

  Clint opened the door and stepped into his room. He could see Victoria laying under the covers, so he closed the door behind him and stripped out of his clothes.

  “No need to worry,” he said. “It was just one last try before the cavalry arrived. The Pinkertons are downstairs, so I figure I’ll let them sweep up whatever’s left so they don’t feel like they wasted a trip.”

  Laying down, Clint felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was also exhausted after carrying that weight for the last few days. He felt Victoria’s hands rubbing his chest and didn’t make a move.

  “I could use some sleep,” he said. “Why don’t I wake you up later?”

  Her answer to that was to throw the covers aside and crawl on top of him. Her nails clawed into his chest and she was breathing heavily as she leaned forward to lick his neck.

  “I guess that got your blood going, huh?”

  “Just glad you’re safe,” she whispered.

  Clint paused, but before he could say anything, he felt her soft pussy grinding against his cock. She kept rubbing against him until he was hard, and the way her hips were moving, that didn’t take long. Finally, she rea
ched down to take his penis in her hand.

  “Victoria? What’s wrong?”

  The muscles in her legs were taut against his thighs. She guided him into her and slid all the way down his cock. Clint strained his eyes, but could only see the shape of her moving above him. It didn’t help matters that he’d just come in from the much better lit hallway.

  Victoria straightened up and ground her hips against Clint’s. She rode his cock like she’d been craving it for weeks, and started letting out a series of throaty moans.

  As good as she was making him feel, Clint knew something was wrong. Forcing himself to think clearly just then was like trying to read a newspaper through a thick fog. Then, Clint gave in and focused completely on what he’d been trying to ignore.

  He concentrated on how her body rocked on top of him and how it felt to slide in and out of her.

  Clint pulled in a breath and let the scent of Victoria’s hair flow through him.

  And then he knew what was wrong.

  That wasn’t Victoria.

  Just as Clint put that together, he felt one of the woman’s hands leave his chest. It was at that same moment that he knew who she was.

  “I wish I could see your face right now,” Rosa hissed. “I’ll bet you look so surprised.”

  Reflexively, Clint reached out for her hands. One was still on his chest and he grabbed it at the wrist. When he reached for the other, he managed to knock it away as it swung toward him. Clint felt cold steel graze the palm of his hand, and he knew Rosa was holding a knife.

  “I’ll have plenty of time to see you when you’re dead,” she snarled.

  Clint waited until he felt her shift her weight forward. Once it did, he swung his arm in a wide, powerful arc that caught Rosa’s elbow. She writhed on top of him, still grinding her hips as if she was about to climax while in the middle of the fight.

  While their arms were tangled together, Clint got his fingers around her wrist and just got ahold of her when Rosa’s blade brushed against his cheek. Even now that he had a hold on her wrist, it still wasn’t easy to push her back.

  She leaned forward, shifting all of her weight behind her thin knife. The sapphire in the handle glittered like a single star in the shadowy room. “I’ll bet you never suspected me of anything, Clint. You’re like every other man. Thinking with your dick, and not enough balls to stand up to a woman.”

  “Of course I suspected you,” Clint said as he pushed the blade an inch or so back. “In case you don’t remember, you never did get out of those ropes.”

  “Yeah, but you had no clue I was the one setting up all the deals and handling all those jobs.”

  “I guessed it might be you. That whole sapphire thing could only be a woman’s idea.”

  Just then, the lantern blazed to life and filled the room with a rich glow.

  Clint could see Rosa on top of him. She was naked and sweating with the exertion of the fight. She also held a slender knife in her hand that looked more like a sliver of steel.

  Victoria had been the one to turn the knob on the lantern. Rosa turned to get a look at her, which gave Clint a chance to make one more push. That was all he needed to twist Rosa’s wrist and force her to drop the knife. His other hand went to her throat as he sat upright in bed.

  “What . . . now?” Rosa croaked through the grip Clint had on her throat. “You die . . . or I do.”

  Clint sat there with her life in his hands. He started to squeeze, but couldn’t help from feeling the pang of guilt for strangling a helpless, naked woman. The same instincts that had saved his life before now caused his fingers to loosen.

  The second Rosa felt his fingers let go, she smiled and pulled free of his hand. She started to dive for her knife, but couldn’t find it on the floor.

  That was because it was no longer on the floor.

  The knife was in Victoria’s hand and she buried that blade deep into Rosa’s shoulder.

  Rosa turned and showed a savage mix of pain and rage in her eyes. Victoria pulled the knife out, balled up her other hand, and punched Rosa square in the jaw. Finally, Rosa dropped. She landed half on the bed, with her arms and head dangling over the side.

  Pulling Rosa all the way up, Clint jumped off the bed and picked up his gun. Before the Colt was securely in his grasp, Victoria rushed over to him.

  She dropped the knife so she could wrap both arms around Clint. After hugging him, she looked up at him. There was a fresh bruise on her face and some blood in her hair running from a cut on her scalp. “She came in while you were downstairs. She . . . tried to knock me out, but . . .”

  “It’s all right,” Clint said. “Are you hurt too badly?”

  Reluctantly, she shook her head. “I feel better now that I paid her back for bushwhacking me.”

  Clint laughed and held her close. “Maybe you should run for sheriff.”

  Watch for ONE MAN’S LAW

  306th novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series from Jove

  Coming in June!