The Omaha Palace

by J. R. Roberts

  * * *

  “Hey, bartender,” Mike Lukas called when Clint was gone.

  “Yeah,” Wright said.

  “Anythin’ goin’ on between Adams and the boss?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “She got a man?”

  “Nope,” Ed Wright said, “nobody regular.”

  “Not you?”

  “Me?” Wright asked. “She’s the boss. That’s all.”

  Lukas nodded and said, “Good to know.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Clint entered Ashley’s office. She was seated behind the desk and looked up at him.

  “What did you think?” he asked.

  “They seem okay.”

  “I discussed the schedule with them,” he said, sitting. “Oh, and they’ll be at the party tomorrow night, but not as guests. I want them to work. I want them to be seen.”

  Ashley shrugged and said, “That’s up to you. But put it in writing for me, will you? So that I know the schedule.”

  “Will do.”

  “And now you have to get out there and start setting up your table, don’t you?”

  “I do,” Clint said, standing back up. “I’ve got two of those boys coming in at six, the other two at twelve.”

  “Fine.”

  Clint walked to the door. He considered telling Ashley about young Pete Brennan, and about talking to Big Jack, but decided against it.

  “See you later,” he said, and walked out of the office.

  * * *

  Atchison and Gerald came back in at six o’clock. Clint showed them where to sit, at opposite ends of the room. He decided to have a carpenter come in and build two risers, so that when they sat, they’d be able to look out over the entire room.

  “Look,” he said to both of them, “somebody may come in looking for trouble with me. If that happens, I’ll handle it. You handle anything else that happens. Otto, you’ll take the lead. You move first, and Ben, you’ll watch his back.”

  “Got it,” Otto said, and Atchison nodded.

  “Okay, take your places.”

  They went to their corners, and Clint went to his table.

  The evening started . . .

  * * *

  Karen came down to work the floor a little after seven. The other girls did the same. There were three of them working. Otto and Ben Atchison both spoke to the girls. Clint assumed they were telling them who they were. After initially speaking to them, they had no contact. That was good. The men weren’t distracted.

  The first sign of trouble was when one of the former security men came in. It was Ed Wright who fired him, so he went right to the bar. Clint could tell from the way he moved that he was drunk.

  Clint attracted Otto’s attention and pointed to the bar. Otto nodded. This was his first chance to prove his worth with his hands. He set the shotgun down against the wall by his chair and walked to the bar.

  “. . . tellin’ you to get out, Sam,” Wright was saying.

  “I wanna know why I got fired, Ed,” the man said. “I ain’t leavin’—”

  He went to draw his gun but Otto was there. He put his hand on Sam’s hand so that he wasn’t able to draw the weapon.

  “Yeah, you are leavin’,” he said into Sam’s ear.

  He turned the smaller man around and walked him roughly out the door. Once outside he pushed him into the street, but not hard enough to knock him down.

  “Don’t come back,” Otto said. “I won’t go so easy on you next time.”

  “Just wanna know why I got fired, is all,” Sam complained drunkenly.

  “You weren’t good at your job,” Otto said. “It’s that simple.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  Sam shrugged.

  “Thanks,” he said. “That’s all I wanted ta know.” He turned and lurched drunkenly away.

  Otto walked back in, nodded to Clint, and went back to his position.

  Clint thought Otto passed his first test with flying colors . . .

  * * *

  Clint had another good night at faro. Nobody was able to beat him. Nobody challenged him. Even the losers just slunk away without a word.

  Karen came over a time or two, pressed her hip to his shoulder, and asked if he wanted a drink. He declined each time.

  He kept an eye on his game, and an eye on the two new security men. At midnight the next two came in, Falkner and Lukas. Otto and Atchison left immediately. If they were going to drink, they would do it someplace else.

  After midnight the night went smoothly. Clint was counting up his winnings and closing down his table when the last customer left and Ed Wright locked the door.

  “We done?” Lukas asked.

  “You’re done,” Clint said. “You can both go and get some sleep.”

  “Thanks,” Lukas said.

  The door to Ashley’s office opened and she came into the room. All four men looked over at her.

  “Did we have a good night, gentlemen?” she asked.

  “Pretty damn good, boss,” Wright said.

  “The boys were just leaving,” Clint said. “They did good.”

  “Excellent,” she said. “Good night, gentlemen. And thank you.”

  “Night, boss,” Falkner said, heading for the door.

  “Good night, ma’am,” Mike Lukas said, giving her a bold once-over.

  “Don’t call me ma’am,” she said to him, “and I’ll call you . . . Mike. Okay?”

  “Yes, ma—boss.”

  Wright unlocked the door, let them out, and locked it again.

  “And you?” she asked, looking at Clint.

  “I did well,” he said.

  “We did well, right?”

  “Right,” he said, handing over her take.

  Ed Wright went into the kitchen, leaving them alone. Old Man Brennan was already gone.

  “Ready for bed?” she asked Clint.

  “Ready to get some sleep.”

  “That’s what I meant,” she said. “I’m gonna get some sleep myself. Night, Ed!”

  “Good night, boss!” he called from the kitchen.

  She smiled at Clint and went upstairs to her room. Wright came out of the kitchen.

  “I told you.”

  “Told me what?”

  “That she’d like that Lukas.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Clint said. “Good night, Ed.”

  “Night, Clint.”

  Ed was wiping down his bar as Clint went up the stairs to his own room.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Ashley came down in time to have breakfast with Ed Wright and Clint.

  “We’re closed today,” she told them. “All day. We’re getting ready for the party.”

  “Yes, boss,” Wright said.

  “Get Leo in here. I want this place spotless by tonight.”

  “Right,” Ed said.

  She looked at Clint.

  “Your men know what to do?”

  “They do,” Clint said, “but I’ll tell them again to make sure.”

  “The mayor is going to be here,” she said. “The chief of police. The head of the town council. The rest of the council.”

  “And Big Jack Mackey,” Clint said.

  “Right. I want them all to be impressed. I want this place to sparkle.”

  “Yes, boss,” Ed Wright said.

  “And Ed, make sure the girls sparkle, too.”

  “Right.”

  “And your men,” she said to Clint. “Try to get them not to look like they just got off a horse.”

  “I’ll clean them up.”

  She went back to her breakfast then. Today she ate it all.

  * * *

/>   During Big Jack’s first breakfast the batwing doors opened and a man walked in.

  “Chris,” Big Jack said. Chris Nickerson was Dan’s brother—younger, leaner, meaner, good with a gun. Very good with a gun.

  “I hear you’re lookin’ for me.”

  “Have a seat, some coffee,” said Big Jack.

  “I’d rather have whiskey,” Chris said, sitting.

  “This early?”

  “It’s a wake-me-up.”

  Big Jack looked over at Dan. “Bring your brother some whiskey.”

  Dan came around, set a glass and a bottle in front of his brother.

  “Thanks.”

  Chris poured himself a generous drink, downed it, and poured another.

  “What’s the job?”

  “Dan didn’t tell you?”

  “No.”

  Big Jack looked over at the bartender, who was expressionless.

  “Okay,” he said. “Clint Adams. You know who he is?”

  “The Gunsmith.”

  “Right. He’s in town. He’s gonna get in my way.”

  “Whataya want me to do?”

  “I want you to get him out of my way.”

  “Today?”

  “No,” Big Jack said, “I don’t want you to do anything until after tonight.”

  “Tonight’s the party, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Am I invited?”

  “No.”

  Chris grinned, had another drink.

  “Okay. What do I get paid?”

  “Double.”

  “Triple,” Chris said.

  “Triple it is,” Big Jack said. “Just be available, and don’t do anything until I say so.”

  Chris held his glass up to Big Jack and said, “You’re the boss.”

  * * *

  After breakfast Ashley went back upstairs.

  “I got to find Leo,” Wright said.

  “Have you seen him lately?”

  “Not since you kicked him out of here yesterday.”

  “I didn’t kick him out,” Clint said. “I just didn’t give him a job. He already has a job.”

  “And I got to make sure he does it.”

  “I have to do the same with my boys,” Clint said. “So let’s get started.”

  They left the saloon, and Ed Wright locked the doors behind them.

  “See you back here in a couple of hours,” Clint said. “I have to get myself some new clothes as well.”

  “Lucky I’m the bartender,” Ed said. “I get to dress like one.”

  They split up from that point, Ed going off to find Leo, and Clint to find his four security men.

  THIRTY

  Clint found Falkner first. He was having breakfast in a café. While he wasn’t sitting in the window, he was visible from it.

  Clint entered, joined him at his table.

  “You’re up early for somebody who had the late shift,” he said.

  “I don’t need that much sleep. Coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  There was another cup on the table, upside down. Falkner righted it, and filled it.

  “Thanks,” Clint said.

  “This a coincidence, or were you lookin’ for me?” Falkner asked.

  “I was looking for all of you, happened to see you in the window. Taking a chance, aren’t you?”

  “Beein’ seen from the window?” Falkner asked. “I ain’t no money gun, Clint. I’m not afraid to sit in the window. Not like you.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  “No, but you know enough to be careful.”

  “It’s how I’ve lived this long,” Clint said.

  “I get it.”

  “The others asleep?”

  “I don’t know,” Falkner said. “We all work for you, but we ain’t friends.”

  “You don’t know anything about them?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, I need you all to be dressed decent tonight,” Clint said.

  “By decent, you mean clean.”

  “Right. If you see the others before I do, let them know, will you?”

  “Sure. I can do that.” He speared a big hunk of steak with his fork and stuck it in his mouth.

  Clint drank the coffee, set the cup down, and stood up.

  “Thanks for the coffee.”

  “Anytime.”

  “The party starts at seven,” Clint said. “Be there at six, will you?”

  “Sure.”

  “See you then.”

  “Shotguns tonight?”

  “Shotguns every night,” Clint said.

  “You really expectin’ trouble?”

  “Oh yeah,” Clint said, “I’m expecting trouble.”

  “Maybe we should have asked for more money,” Falkner said.

  Clint grinned and said, “I would have.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  Mike Lukas had a room at the Omaha House Hotel. The knock at his door woke him. He stumbled to it, wearing only his underwear, and opened it.

  “Oh, wait . . .” he said, and started to withdraw.

  Ashley smiled and said, “Don’t get dressed on my account.”

  “But—”

  He backed away and she entered the room, closing the door behind her.

  “How do you feel about forward women?” she asked.

  “I guess that depends on how forward they are,” he answered.

  She smiled, reached out, and yanked his underwear down to his ankles. His penis sprang into view, and she looked properly impressed.

  “Oh my,” she said, taking it in one hand.

  “Well,” he said, looking down at himself in her hand, “I guess I don’t mind it so much.”

  She got down on her knees, said, “Um,” and took him in her mouth . . .

  * * *

  Clint found Otto and Atchison having breakfast together in another restaurant.

  “Good mornin’, boss,” Atchison said. “Coffee?”

  “I had enough,” Clint said. “I just have a message for you two.”

  He told them what he’d told Falkner.

  “We don’t gotta buy expensive clothes, do we?” Atchison asked.

  “No,” Clint said, “I’m just reinforcing what I said yesterday. Cheap, but clean.”

  “We got it,” Otto said.

  “Either of you know where Lukas is staying?”

  “Omaha House,” Otto said.

  “Either of you know anything about him?”

  “Nope,” Otto said.

  “Nope,” Atchison echoed.

  “Okay,” Clint said. “Be at the Palace at six. I’ll see you both then.”

  “Right, boss,” Otto said.

  Clint left them to the rest of their breakfast.

  * * *

  Ashley sucked Lukas’s cock until he thought his head was going to come off. Then she pushed him down on the bed, lifted her skirts, and mounted him.

  “Don’t you wanna get naked?” he asked.

  “Shh,” she said. “Later.”

  She didn’t tell him that whether or not he got to see her naked depended on how well he fucked her. So far she was impressed with the way his cock had felt in her mouth, and the way he’d held up under her oral ministrations.

  Now she wanted to see how long she could ride him before he exploded . . .

  * * *

  Clint walked up to the desk clerk at the Omaha House Hotel.

  “What room is Mike Lukas in?”

  “Mr. Lukas? Um . . .” The clerk looked nervous.

  “Is he alone?”

  “Um, no, sir.”

 
“Okay,” Clint said. “Just give me the room number. I won’t interrupt him.”

  “Yessir,” the clerk said. “Room seven.”

  “Thanks.”

  Clint went outside the hotel to wait.

  * * *

  Ashley rode Mike Lukas’s cock for a long time, first slowly, then faster. Before long she was bouncing up and down on him, and the room was filled with the sound of their wet flesh slapping together.

  He gritted his teeth and stayed with her the whole way. When she finally spasmed on top of him, he allowed himself to explode inside her. She gasped, cried out, and used her insides to milk him for all he was worth.

  When she climbed off him, his cock flopped onto his belly.

  “Jesus Christ,” he gasped.

  She stood, straightened her skirts, then looked at him.

  “Are you gonna get undressed?” he asked her.

  “Next time,” she said.

  “There’s gonna be a next time?” he asked hopefully.

  “Oh yes,” she said, straightening her hair. “And in my room.”

  “Okay.”

  “Get some rest,” she said. “You’ll need to be sharp and awake tonight.”

  “In your room?” he asked with a grin.

  “No,” she said, “at my party. Be there at six.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “Remember that.”

  She smiled at him and left the room.

  * * *

  Clint wasn’t surprised when Ashley came down the stairs to the Omaha House lobby. He crossed the street and stayed out of her sight as she came out. She looked both ways, smoothed down her skirt, and then walked off.

  Clint crossed the street, entered the hotel, and went upstairs to room seven.

  * * *

  When the knock came at his door, Mike Lukas couldn’t believe it. Was she back for more already? He got up on rubbery legs, this time pausing to pull on his pants before answering the door.

  “You look surprised,” Clint said.

  “I am,” Lukas said. “Come on in, boss.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  “Not a good idea,” Clint said as he entered.

  “What’s that?” Lukas asked. He sat on the bed and vigorously rubbed his face.

  “Sleeping with the boss.”

  Lukas looked at him.

  “I saw her leave.”

  “That a problem for you?” Lukas asked. “I heard you and her weren’t involved.”