The Deadly Chest

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The Deadly Chest Page 8

by J. R. Roberts


  Duffy couldn’t sleep.

  If Clint Adams and the woman had found the chest, then they had it with them in that town. And they would need to find a way to get it back to Westbrook. So all he and Franks had to do was watch and wait for them to come riding out of Bolden with a buckboard.

  Only if Adams knew he was being watched, he’d be on the alert. Thanks to Franks, Duffy was going to have to come up with a good plan.

  Or a lot more men.

  Clint hugged Loretta.

  He was very aware of the heat of her body as she leaned into him.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “This is very helpful.”

  “Good.”

  They sat that way for a while, then she sort of lifted her face so that it was in the crook of his neck. He felt her breath hot on his skin, and felt his body reacting to her nearness.

  Then he thought he felt her lips touch his neck.

  “Loretta?”

  “I thought you might need some comfort, too,” she said, kissing his neck again.

  “Damn it, Loretta!” he said.

  He moved his head down and their lips met. Gently at first, and then more heated. Soon it was a molten kiss. Her hands were all over him. She got to her knees and pressed him down onto the bed aggressively.

  “Lore—”

  “Shut up, Clint,” she said. “Just shut up!”

  She pulled his shirt out of his pants, pulled it up, and began to kiss his chest and belly. Her hands worked feverishly on his belt, and then the buttons of his pants. She reached in and brought out his hard cock, and took it into her mouth. He was shocked.

  Given her previous attitude about everything, he was surprised to find her sucking his hard cock with all the talent of an experienced whore.

  “Jesus—” he said, then bit off the rest. Using her hands and her mouth, she had him close to bursting, and he had to use all his willpower not to explode into her mouth.

  Not yet, anyway.

  Duffy rolled out of his bedroll and walked over to the fire. Franks was sitting in front of it, but he was dozing.

  Duffy took out his gun, put it near Franks’s ear and cocked the hammer back.

  Franks jumped, looked up at Duffy, and said, “I was awake.”

  “Yeah, I know. Go get some sleep.”

  “Is it time?”

  “No, but I can’t sleep, so go ahead.”

  “What’s on your mind?”

  “Gettin’ some more men, that’s what’s on my mind,” Duffy said.

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know,” Duffy said. “I’ll give it some thought while I’m makin’ coffee.”

  Franks nodded, and went to his bedroll. In minutes he was asleep and snoring.

  Duffy made himself another pot of coffee, and started making a list in his head.

  THIRTY-TWO

  Loretta stripped Clint completely naked, then took the time to take off her own clothes.

  “Too aggressive?” she asked him, running her hands up and down his thighs.

  “No,” he said, “just surprisingly so.”

  “I can be as wild as anyone when I want to,” she said. “And tonight, I want to.”

  He reached for her and pulled her down on top of him. The nipples of her full breasts were hard against his chest.

  They kissed avidly, and then she worked her way down his body until she had him in her mouth again. But this time he wasn’t just going to lie there and take it. He pulled her up onto him, then flipped her over onto her back.

  It was his turn to wander about her body with his hands and mouth, coming to rest with his face nestled in the damp heat between her legs.

  “Oooh, yes,” she said, reaching down to hold his head in place. “Like that. Right there. Oh, God.”

  He slid his hands beneath her to cup her ass and lift her off the bed. He worked on her with his lips and tongue until she was banging her fists on the mattress, then he mounted her and drove his penis into her. She almost screamed, and wrapped her legs around his waist as he pounded away at her...

  Later, they lay side by side, naked, sweat drying on their bodies.

  “That was . . . amazing.”

  “Surprising,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said. She moved over and snuggled up against him.

  “You mind if I sleep here tonight?” she asked. “I don’t think I have the energy to go back to my room.”

  “I don’t have the energy to say no,” he replied.

  “Mmmm,” she said, reaching down between his legs to stroke him back to life.

  “I thought you said you wanted to sleep?” he asked.

  She laughed deep in her throat and threw one leg over him.

  “We can sleep . . . later,” she said.

  Clint woke later with the weight of Loretta on his left arm. He reached to make sure he could still pull his gun if he had to, then settled in to sleep for the night. He doubted anyone would be coming to town after them, not until they had found the chest.

  Sheriff Lane struck him as the ultimate opportunist, ready to take advantage of any situation at a moment’s notice. He probably knew that Loretta had a thousand dollars on her, but he was going to be more interested in what was in that chest. They all knew that Loretta Burns wanted that chest for more than just a few dresses, or possessions that were inside.

  He looked down at her, her naked, full breasts, her dark brown nipples, her long supple legs. Was this her way of keeping his mind occupied? If it was, it also served to keep busy, as well.

  Clint didn’t trust Loretta any more than he trusted Sheriff Lane. Everybody had his own agenda, but he still couldn’t leave her to face Lane and his men herself.

  His agenda was to keep her alive long enough to have her show him what was in the chest.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Duffy kicked Franks awake in the morning.

  “What the—”

  “Get up!” he said. “You’ve got work to do.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Franks said, getting to his feet. “What about some coffee?”

  “Yeah, have yourself a cup of coffee,” Duffy said. “Then we’re gonna break camp and keep an eye out for Adams and the woman. Wanna see if they leave town emptyhanded, or with that chest.”

  “And if they have the chest?”

  “It’ll take them a while to get back to Westbrook with it,” Duffy said. “Before they do, we’ll take it away from them.”

  “And the five hundred dollars?”

  “Right,” Duffy said, “and the five hundred dollars.”

  “Duffy, you think maybe I can get more than a hundred of that?”

  “No,” Duffy said. “Get your coffee, and then get your horse saddled.”

  As Clint and Loretta rode out of Bolden, he knew they were being watched from somewhere. It was only a matter of time before he spotted the men.

  “Couldn’t we have slept a little longer?” she asked. “You tired me out last night.”

  “I think it was the other way around. If I remember right, you interrupted my reading.”

  “I didn’t hear you complaining.”

  “Well, you’re complaining now,” he said. “It’s pretty clear to me that Sheriff Lane has sent someone after us.”

  “For my money?”

  “And for your box.”

  “What does he care about the chest?” she asked.

  “He’s curious, Loretta,” Clint said. “About what’s inside. He assumes it’s something of value.”

  “Well, yes,” she said, “but to me, not to anyone else.”

  He didn’t know if she was telling the truth.

  “Well, he’s going to want to see that for himself,” he said.

  “And you figured this out how? Because a stranger came to town last night?”

  “And left quickly when he found out who I was.”

  “Haven’t people done that before?”

  “Yes,” he said, “but in this ca
se, I don’t think he went very far. He and at least one partner are probably watching us right now. Don’t look around!”

  She stopped herself just in time.

  “What will they do when they see us leaving without the chest?”

  “Follow us,” Clint said.

  “Until we find it.”

  “Yes.”

  “And then they’ll take it away from us?”

  “They’ll try,” Clint answered.

  “Can we lose them?”

  “It’s possible,” he said, “depending on how many there are.”

  “So we have to lose them, and then find my chest.”

  “The black box.”

  “My black box.”

  “Do we really need it?”

  “Need what?”

  “The whole thing?” he asked. “The whole black chest?”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, I just thought, maybe, there was just something inside you wanted.”

  “It’s all my stuff,” she said. “Everything inside belongs to me. I’m not letting anyone else have any part of it.”

  “Well,” he said, “it was just a thought.”

  From a hill outside of town, Duffy and Frank watched them ride out of Bolden.

  “They don’t have it,” Franks said.

  “Not yet.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “There’s no hurry,” Duffy said. “We’ll follow them. And first chance we get, I’ll send a telegram.”

  “For more men?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s not gonna cost me any of my money, is it?” Franks asked.

  Only all of it, Duffy thought.

  “No.”

  They rode for half a day, bypassed two other towns, and stopped to rest.

  “Are they behind us?” she asked as she took a drink from her canteen.

  “Yes.”

  “You can see them?”

  “I can feel them.”

  She lowered her canteen and looked at him.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “How can that be?”

  “It comes from years of experience.”

  She hung her canteen back on her saddle. “So how do we lose them?”

  “I’ll figure out a way,” he said. “Soon.”

  “Meanwhile,” she said, “how far to the stage station?”

  “Half a day, maybe less, if we ride straight for it and stop trying to find the chest.”

  “What?”

  “If we assume the chest was still on the stage when you stopped at the station, we can simply head there.”

  “And what if the box fell off between here and there?”

  “Well, if it’s out in the open, we’ll see it.”

  “And?”

  “And if we get to the station and the stationmaster says the chest was there when the stage was, we double back.”

  “This doesn’t sound like a well-thought-out plan to me.”

  “On the other hand,” he said, “whoever’s following us is probably expecting us to stop at the station. Why don’t they just go there?”

  “Maybe,” she said, “they already have men there.”

  Clint hung his own canteen on his saddle. “Let’s hope they don’t think of that.”

  Franks turned when he heard a rider approaching. He saw Duffy riding up on him.

  “Did you do it?”

  “Yeah,” Duffy said. “That town had a telegraph key.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I sent some men on ahead,” Duffy said. “They’ll be waitin’ for us—and them—when we get there.”

  “How many?”

  “Just two,” Duffy said, “but it should be enough.”

  “So we keep following?”

  Duffy nodded. “At a safe distance.”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  The station was up ahead.

  “That’s it,” she said. “I recognize it.”

  “Not much to recognize,” he said. “They all pretty much look alike.”

  It was just a wooden building with a corral behind it, a small stable, and a buckboard. There must have been a horse or two inside the stable.

  “Who was here?” Clint asked.

  “Just one man and a woman, his wife. She cooked for us.”

  “That’s her job.”

  They sat their horses a bit longer, looking around.

  “It’s quiet,” he said. “Too quiet.”

  “Well, when there’s no stage maybe they just . . . stay inside.”

  “Should be some horses in the corral,” he said. “Replacements, in case a stage arrives with a damaged horse.”

  “So why aren’t there?”

  “That’s what I’m going to find out,” Clint said. “You stay here.”

  He dismounted and handed her Eclipse’s reins, even though it wasn’t necessary.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Once Duffy realized they were going to the station, next he dropped back even more.

  “What are we doin’?” Franks asked.

  “Just playin’ it safe,” Duffy said. “Adams is nobody’s fool.”

  “But what about the men you sent?” Franks asked. “Won’t they be there?”

  “I hope so,” Duffy said. “And I hope they stay out of sight. I told them not to go in.”

  “Will they listen?”

  “Do you?”

  “Well . . .”

  Inside the building Angus Foster and his wife, Mary, sat at the long wooden table and looked at the two who had broken in only an hour before.

  “Look,” Angus said, “we don’t have any money—”

  “Shut up!” one of them said.

  “I could make some food,” Mary said.

  “Be quiet!” the other one said.

  “We weren’t supposed to come in here,” Rory Evans said to his partner, Andy King.

  “Never mind,” King said. “We’re better off in here, where Adams can’t see us.”

  “That ain’t what Duffy said,” Evans replied, lowering his voice.

  “Go take a look out the window,” King said. “See if anyone’s comin’ .”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Evans walked to the window. King turned to the older couple and said, “Just be quiet, and everythin’ will be fine. Understand?”

  “We understand,” Angus Foster said. “Don’t we, Mother?”

  Mary looked at her husband and said, “Actually, not at all, Angus.”

  Clint moved in toward the house and stable, with intentions of first looking in the stable. When he reached it, he moved slowly. If there were horses inside, he did not want to spook them.

  As he moved around the stable, he saw there was only a front door. There was, however, space between the slats that made up the structure. He tried to peer into the interior that way, to make out what was inside, but couldn’t see much. He was going to have to move around to the front and look in the door. If he did that, there was the possibility he could be seen from the house, but he decided to take the chance.

  He figured if there was anyone in the house, they’d be keeping an eye out the front window. He moved around the side of the stable. There was one window in the back, and there didn’t seem to be anyone standing at it. He made his move toward the door and peered in, then stepped inside.

  The interior was dark, the only light coming from that front door. After a few moments, he was able to see well enough to spot three horses, a couple of them still wearing their saddles. He moved alongside the two saddle mounts, found them still wet. They’d been ridden in the past hour or so. Likely the two riders were inside the house.

  There were some hay bales in one corner of the the stable, probably used to feed the stock.

  He went through their saddlebags but didn’t find anything informative. Their rifles were gone, though. He could only surmise that there were two men inside the house, waiting for them. Now the question was, were they the two men who
had been following them, who had perhaps circled around to get there first. Or were these two additional men? Worst-case scenario, there were now four men to be dealt with.

  He moved to the door, peered out to make sure no one was looking out the window of the house. He had two choices. Go back and rejoin Loretta, or get close to the house and take a look in that rear window.

  Since he had made his way this far, he decided to get a look inside the house.

  From her vantage point, still holding Clint’s horse, Loretta was able to see when Clint slipped into the stable, and again when he reappeared at the door. But when he came out he didn’t head back to her. Instead, he went toward the house. She was nervous, not knowing who was going to come up behind her. She kept looking back nervously, while trying to also keep an eye on what Clint was doing.

  She didn’t have a gun, but her eyes fell on Clint’s rifle, which he had left behind.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  When Duffy and Franks came within sight of the station, they also saw the girl, sitting on her horse alone, holding the reins of Clint Adams’s horse.

  “We could grab her,” Franks said.

  “I’m thinkin’ of that,” Duffy said. “Looks like those two idiots went into the house, which I told them not to do.”

  “Where’s Adams?” Franks asked, standing in his stirrups. “I don’t see him.”

  “He’s gotta be down there,” Duffy said. “Maybe we should take the girl now.”

  “I can go down and get ’er,” Franks said.

  “Just hold on,” Duffy said. “Don’t rush into anythin’. Just sit tight a minute, lemme think.”

  Impatiently, Franks settled into his saddle.

  Clint covered the ground between the stable and the house, pressed himself against the back wall. He listened for a moment but didn’t hear any voices, so he risked a look in the back window. The house was just one room, so he was able to see everything inside. There was an older couple sitting at the table, probably the station manager and his wife. And with them were two armed men, one of whom was looking out the front window.

 

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