“Tell me over supper.”
• • •
They ate a fine supper prepared by Brock’s cook, who clearly hated her boss. Clint could tell by the way she looked at the doctor. And she smirked afterward when Clint tied the man to his chair for the night.
“You’re going to make me sleep like this?” he demanded.
“I don’t care if you sleep or not,” Clint said. “Just that you don’t move while I sleep.”
“I’ll keep watch if you like,” the woman said. She was a middle-aged woman with gray hair, but lively blue eyes.
“Where do you live?” he asked.
“Here,” she said. “He makes me live here.”
“Are you married?”
“Yes, I have a husband in Flint.”
“How far is it?”
“A few hours.”
“Then take a horse in the morning and go home.”
“I can go now,” she said. “I know the way, and can make the ride in the dark.”
“All right,” he said, “but when you get there, tell the sheriff what’s going on.”
“It’ll be my pleasure, mister.”
“Then go.”
She started for the door.
“Wait,” Clint said. “Is he telling me the truth about this not being a working ranch? No ranch hands?”
“None except Sam,” she said. “He sent his other men to help Harwick.”
“Okay,” he said, “you can go.”
She ran to him, kissed his cheek, and said, “My name’s Molly Sims. When you get to town, come to Molly’s Café. You’ll eat free.”
“I’ll be there.”
She left, and he turned to Brock, who was securely tied to his chair.
“Pleasant dreams,” he said.
• • •
In the morning Clint was waiting on the porch with a trussed-up Brock.
“Well,” he said, “no sign of your loot.”
“They’ll be here,” Brock said, “and you’ll be outnumbered.”
But when they heard horses, it was the sheriff from Flint, with a posse.
“You Clint Adams?”
“That’s right.”
The sheriff dismounted and shook hands with Clint. He was a tall man in his forties. His posse looked to be made up of deputies and townsmen, a full dozen.
“Sheriff Jeff Stone,” he said. “Molly rode in and told us what happened.”
“Brock thinks his men will be along with their loot,” Clint said.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Stone said. “Either way we’ll find them and get it all back. Most of the people of Medicine Bow are still in Flint, waiting to return home.”
“Does that include the Pattersons?”
“Yep, they’re there.”
“Their daughter is alive and should be in Givens right now, with a woman named Kathy.”
“We heard from the sheriff of Givens,” Stone said. “He’s on his way with a posse of his own. Those looters can’t move very fast with all that stuff. We’ll catch him—but the one we really want is Dr. Brock.” “I know, the whole thing was his idea.” Clint looked over at the still trussed-up man.
“You don’t know the half of it,” Stone said. “Molly told us she overheard him planning the whole thing with his men. Brock gave those people a poison.”
“What?”
“He created a phony epidemic to get them all to leave so he could loot the town.”
“He killed twenty-seven people for that?”
“And more,” Stone said, disgusted. “A lot of them were buried before the others left. He started out giving a few of his patients what he called a health tonic, then when they got sick, he told everyone else to come in and get some medicine to help fight off the disease. Instead it made them sick, too. After a bunch of them died, he changed the amount of poison so some folks would get better, but he got what he wanted—the rest of the town ran away. Of course, he didn’t give it to his men, so they didn’t get sick at all.”
Clint turned, his hand twitching as he looked at Brock.
“I know what you’re thinking, Adams,” the lawman said. “If you did it, I’d like to give you a medal, but I’d have to arrest you. Just leave him to the law.”
“He better hang,” Clint said, “because if he doesn’t . . .”
“If he doesn’t,” Sheriff Stone said, “I promise to look the other way.”
Watch for
LOUISIANA STALKER
384th novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series from Jove
Coming in December!
Death in the Desert Page 13