She was crying now. “I fear you’re lying again, saying whatever it takes. You and Dixie are probably planning to rob the bank yourself and run off with the money.”
He swore softly. “I don’t know whether you’re a fool or just stubborn, Lark, but I’ve tried to be honest.”
She whirled on him, eyes blazing. “Honest! Why, you saddle tramp, you don’t know the meaning of the word!”
“I reckon I know where I stand with you—I kept hopin’ for something better. Okay, I’ll move to the hotel.”
She watched in horror as he began to gather up his things. “The hotel? What will everyone say?”
“I really don’t give a damn, my dear Lark. You can tell about the robbery, or about me being half blind, or how I begged for your love while you laughed at me. It’s bad enough to have to go sleep on that damned settee every night—knowing you’re just past that door—without having to live with your insults too.” He strode into the bedroom and began to jerk clothes out of the bureau. “I’ve been teased enough!”
“You can’t leave!”
He threw some things into a valise and pushed past her to the front door. “I can’t leave? Just watch me, sweetie!”
And with that, he was gone. Lark stared after him and began to sob. She wasn’t certain whether she was weeping with relief or with sorrow.
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning Lark was late opening her shop. In a small town, bad news traveled faster than gossip at a church social, so she wasn’t surprised that local citizens passing by peered in curiously or stopped in little groups out on the street to talk. Two ladies came in to ask if there was anything they could do to help.
Bertha Snootley came into her shop for the first time since she and Lark had had their differences. Very sanctimoniously, she told Lark she had heard about the marital troubles. “I’m so sorry you and your husband don’t get along as Abner and I do. Why, we have a marriage made in heaven.”
Lark knew that wasn’t true, but she only said, “I’d prefer not to discuss my marriage.”
The plump lady sniffed, evidently displeased at not picking up any juicy details. “Well! Very well, then. I’m leaving to go to Abilene. There’s just nothing worth having in the shops here.” And Bertha Snootley sailed out of the shop.
Lark sighed and leaned on the counter. She wasn’t surprised that it was already around town that Larado had moved into the hotel. Damn him anyhow. Why couldn’t he have slept on the settee and saved her from all this embarrassment? Because he was a thoughtless clod who wanted to humiliate her, she decided. It occurred to her that she could go to the sheriff’s office and ask Larado to move back into the house.
“Beg that scoundrel to move back in? Ha! I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Besides, he might figure it would come with bedroom privileges, and I certainly don’t intend to offer those.”
Banker Wilbur Barclay twirled his cane as he walked toward the millinery shop. He’d figured out now where he knew the sheriff and his pretty wife from. He’d also decided why Dixie had been so insistent that they move here.
“Damn the slut,” he muttered under his breath. “She’s got the hots for that sheriff and thinks I don’t know what’s going on.” He smiled to himself as he sauntered down the wooden sidewalk. He was sick of Dixie and wanted to be rid of her, but then she’d tell what she knew. She expected to be well cared for in exchange for keeping her mouth shut about what had happened in Buck Shot. “I’ll take care of her, all right, first chance I get that won’t incriminate me.”
What had taken his eye was the pretty black-haired girl who had married the sheriff. Now he walked into the millinery shop and bowed low. “Ah, Mrs. Witherspoon, good day to you.”
For a split second, the tall brunette looked disconcerted, then she nodded and tried to smile. “Good day, sir. Hot enough for you?”
A lady had entered the shop behind him, and now he hesitated. “Of course it’s always hot in Texas.” He turned to the other woman and smiled. “Oh, do wait on this lovely lady first, then we’ll talk about a special hat for my wife.”
The customer smiled. “So sweet and thoughtful. I’m so glad I’ve put my money in your new bank, Mr. Barclay.”
He bowed low. “I don’t have many depositors as lovely as you. You can certainly trust the Barclay bank with your money, dear lady.”
The woman was all smiles and blushes. She looked around a bit, didn’t seem to see anything she liked, and left, still atwitter at the banker’s compliments.
He waited, twirling his fine cane.
“Well,” Lark said, “now what may I show you for your wife?”
“Let’s cut the nonsense, honey.” He leered at her.
“I beg your pardon?” Lark blinked and took a step backward, staring at the fat, balding man.
“Oh, don’t play innocent with me, sister,” he hissed. “It took me a little while to figure out where I knew you from, but now I recognize both you and your so-called lawman husband.”
She did her best to appear calm. “Surely you must be mistaken—”
“Ha!” He twirled his cane and leered at her. “Don’t give me that. There was a teller killed in that robbery, did you know that? There’s a warrant out for that cowboy, and it seems there was a pretty dark-haired girl holding the horses and being the lookout for that pair.”
She felt her face go ashen. “Ob—obviously a case of mistaken identity. Why, we’re both sterling members of the community.”
“In that case, if I wire the authorities to investigate, you wouldn’t be concerned, would you?”
“Not—not at all,” she lied, trying to appear calm. Oh Lord, she’d thought she had problems before—they were a lot worse now.
She took a deep breath. She had played a lot of poker with the boys at the ranch bunkhouse, and now she decided to bluff. “Speaking of investigating, I wonder what the locals would think about putting their money in your bank if they knew Dixie used to be a whore working at the Last Chance Saloon?”
He grinned and twirled his cane. “I’d simply plead that I hadn’t realized who she was—that I was an innocent man who’d been taken advantage of by a loose woman. Anyway, I’d say murder and robbery are a little more serious than taking up with a whore.”
He had her there. “This whole thing is a big mistake.”
He guffawed. “I don’t think so, sister.”
Lark licked her lips that suddenly went dry. “What—what is it you want?”
He leered at her. “You—I want you, honey.”
“What? What about Dixie?” She moved behind the counter to put it between the two of them, wishing a customer would come in, but they were alone.
He stepped forward and leaned on the counter. “That blond slut? I never married her, and I don’t intend to. You and I could have a little thing going on the side for a while. Then I wouldn’t be tempted to tell what I know.”
“That’s blackmail.”
He twirled his cane. “I know.”
“My husband will turn you inside out—”
“But you’re not going to tell him, honey. Besides, I hear he’s moved into the hotel.”
Lark glared at the banker. “How long do you think it would be before he found out?”
The fat man shrugged. “By then, we’d be gone. Honey, you deserve a lot more than this hick town and this pitiful little shop can give you.”
Lark was indignant. “You called it a promising, up-and-coming town in your speech when the mayor welcomed you.”
He pointed at her with his cane. “You should have seen through that. I’m here because there’s a lot of ranching money under mattresses in the area, and soon, most of it will be in my bank. Sooner or later, some idiot will attempt to rob my bank, and I’ve got it all planned out.”
Lark blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“Didn’t your stupid cowboy tell you? I simply slipped the robbers some change and a bag full of chopped paper, and I put the real money bag
out the back door until later. They got the blame and I got the cash. It was very profitable for me.”
So Larado had been telling her the truth. “Why are you telling me all this?”
He winked at her. “Because when I leave next time, honey, I’d like to take you with me.”
“You mean dump Larado and Dixie?”
He shrugged. “They deserve each other.”
“I’ll tell everyone.”
He laughed. “And who would you tell without explaining how you and your stupid cowboy were involved?”
“Mr. Barclay, you are an evil man.”
“But a rich one.” He ran his tongue suggestively along his thin lips and came around the counter. “Think of what I could buy you—jewels, furs, the best St. Louie or Kansas City has to offer. I want you in my bed, my dear.”
Lark slapped him then, slapped him hard.
His florid face turned even redder as he rubbed at the mark her hand had left. “You bitch, you’d better think about this. If you’re smart, you’ll go along with me.”
“I’ll tell Dixie what you’re up to—I’ll tell my husband.”
“What can they do without exposing themselves? I think Texans call this a Mexican standoff.”
“Get out of my shop, you coyote, and don’t come back.”
“Think it over, honey.” He leered at her as he turned to leave. “I could buy you a lot of nice things.”
“I can’t be bought,” she snapped.
“Then you’d be the first woman who couldn’t.” He winked at her and sauntered out of the shop, twirling his cane.
Lark leaned against the counter, shaking. Oh my. How in the hell had she got into this mess, and how would she get out? She put a “Gone To Lunch” sign on the door and left. She’d better go warn Larado that they might be exposed.
Land’s sake, what did she care if he ended up in jail? She could pack up and leave suddenly without a trace. Certainly the banker couldn’t track her to expose her, nor could Larado. She’d paid back everyone who had invested in her shop, except Larado, so she could clear out with a clean conscience. Yes, she’d keep a bag packed. If things came to a boil, she’d empty her cash register and run, rather than facing up to the consequences. It had been her pattern all her life.
Dixie peeked out of the second-story window of her hotel room. She saw Wilbur Barclay leaving the millinery shop, smiling to himself and twirling his cane. “Now what the hell is he up to?” She considered that he might actually be buying a new hat for her, then shook her head. “Naw, that rat hates me and would get rid of me if he could.”
She had no doubt that it was only a matter of time before the banker tired of her blackmail and figured out how to dump her…or worse. Could the rat be in cahoots with that Lark?
Dixie waited until she saw Barclay go inside the bank so he wouldn’t see her, then she put on an elegant pale green silk dress and matching hat, got her purse, and headed for the sheriff’s office. She looked around carefully to make sure she wasn’t seen before she entered. Larado sat behind his desk, talking to that Mexican deputy. Both paused, startled, then they pulled off their hats. The sheriff stood up awkwardly. “Why, hello, Mrs. Barclay, what brings you out today?”
“Can we talk?”
“Sure.” Larado gestured toward a chair.
“I mean alone,” she said pointedly, glaring at the deputy.
“Uh, Paco”—Larado gestured—“you go put up those new wanted posters down at the post office, okay?”
“Sí, boss.” The man nodded toward her and left.
“Well,” she said, “he didn’t make no bones about not likin’ me. He made me feel about as welcome as a skunk at a garden party.”
Larado shrugged. “He suspects you ain’t on the up-and-up, and he thinks my wife hung the moon.”
Dixie snorted. “She ain’t so hot.”
He started to say something, seemed to think better of it. “I’d rather not discuss my wife.”
“Don’t give me that. The fact that you’ve moved out traveled faster than gossip at a sewin’ circle.”
He flushed, looking angry. “That’s hardly your business.”
“Ain’t it?” She leaned back in the chair and smiled at him. “Maybe she’s already lookin’ for something better. I just saw Barclay leavin’ her hat shop.”
“Oh?” He shrugged. “So what?”
“Well, what do you think he was doin’ in there?”
“How the hell should I know? Maybe he was buyin’ you a new hat.”
“Ha! That fat old banker would steal the milk out of a sick baby’s bottle, or the pennies out of a blind man’s cup.”
“I reckon you’d know more about that than I would.”
She studied her nails, and her diamond rings sparkled in the light. “I figure he’s lookin’ her over because she’s pretty, and maybe his money attracts her.”
He shook his head. “Lark can’t be had for money.”
“You don’t know much about women, sport. Any woman can be had when a man starts offerin’ jewels, furs, and easy livin’.”
“Not Lark.”
“You gotta lot of faith in her for a man who’s moved out.”
He made a gesture of dismissal. “I don’t want to talk about her. Now what is it you want, Dixie?”
She put her elbows on his desk and leaned forward so that he got a good view of her full breasts in the low-cut green silk dress. “I want you, Larado, you know that.”
He leaned back in his chair. “We’ve already had this conversation.”
“Yeah, but that was before your lady threw you out.”
“She didn’t throw me out, I moved out on my own.”
“We could be good together, Larado. I know how to please a man.”
“I reckon you do, you’ve laid enough of them.”
Rather than be offended, she laughed. “Gettin’ moral on me? You, who are wanted for murder and bank robbin’?”
“You know I didn’t do that.”
She nodded. “I know, but the rest of the world don’t. You got the name, you might as well have the game.”
He reached in his pocket for a sack of makin’s and began to roll a cigarette. “I reckon there’s a point to all this? If not, get out, Dixie. I got work to do.”
“I told you how Barclay switched bank bags back in Buck Shot? I figure he’s plannin’ on doin’ it again as soon as his bank gets full of the ranchers’ money.”
He rolled the smoke and stuck it in his mouth. “As sheriff, I can’t do anything about that until he breaks the law here.”
“Why don’t we do it first? I’ll get the combination to the safe. We could clean it out some night and clear out, just the two of us.”
“Dixie, we’ve had this conversation already. You never change, do you?”
She laughed. “Leopards don’t change their spots, cowboy, and neither do saloon girls and saddle bums. You got nothin’ to hold you here—that uppity girl don’t care anything about you.”
He sighed. “I reckon you’re right about that.” He struck a match against the sole of his boot and lit the cigarette. “But I’ve got a job, Dixie, and respectability. I kinda like that.”
She snorted in derision. “You think this town wouldn’t turn on you if they knew your past? And even if you keep the job, you’ll die broke on the piddly pay or get shot down in the street by some gunfighter, and for what?”
He smoked and stared into the distance. “Reckon what you say makes sense.”
“Then you’ll consider it?”
He shook his head. “If I take that path, I’ll end up dead or in prison. That ain’t better than what I got here.”
She ground her teeth in rage. “You’re a damned fool, Larado. You’d better thank your lucky stars that they’re gonna hang Snake. Otherwise, he’s find you sooner or later, and he’s a damned good shot.” She stood up and started to walk away, but Larado jumped to his feet so fast that his chair fell backward with a clatter.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He grabbed her arm.
“Let go, you’re hurtin’ me.”
“Dixie, you just hinted at something, and I reckon I need to know what it is.”
She didn’t look at him. “Nothin’.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Well, okay. It was when you two robbed that bank.”
“I’m listenin’.”
“I—I never told Snake your bag was full of chopped paper.”
His grip tightened and there was a stunned silence. “What—?”
“You heard me. I told you he had come and gone when he hadn’t. After you left, I burned the bank bag and told him you never showed up.”
He let go of her with a disgusted sigh. “So he thinks I betrayed him and ran off with a bag full of money?”
She shrugged. “I reckon that’s about the size of it.”
“And being the kind of woman you are, with a nose for gold, you hunted up the man who really had the gold and took up with him.”
“Well, why not? Life is tough, Larado, and I’m not gettin’ any younger. We could do the same thing—clear outta this hick town with enough to last us the rest of our days. I could make your nights worth it.”
“Dixie, get the hell out of my office and don’t come back. I ain’t interested.”
She smiled archly at him. “Don’t say no just yet, sport. I don’t reckon that uppity straitlaced wife of yours is puttin’ out any or you wouldn’t have moved to the hotel.”
“That’s hardly any of your business.”
“Just think about it.” She gave him a coy, inviting look and slowly ran her tongue across her lips in invitation. Then she left, waggling her bustle invitingly.
Larado stared after her. His groin tightened just thinking about how good Dixie was in bed. Why shouldn’t he help himself to that, even if he didn’t rob the bank? Old Barclay need never know Larado was dipping his pen in the banker’s ink.
“Damn it!” He tossed his cigarette into the spittoon and returned to his desk. He’d hardly sat down before the door opened again, and Lark entered.
“Well, I see Dixie was just here. I can smell that strong perfume she wears.”
Georgina Gentry - To Tease a Texan Page 24