Bounty on a Baron

Chapter Twenty-two

Decker could count on the fingers of one hand the times in his life that he’d been with a whore. Most of them had taken place when he’d been much younger. In recent years, when he’d been with a woman, it was always by mutual choice; money had had nothing to do with it.

Martha was an exceptional whore. She was extremely lovely, with blonde hair, a slim waist, rounded hips, and full, shapely thighs. She was only about twenty-two and as close to being truly beautiful as any woman Decker had ever seen.

When she had taken a slightly drunk Decker to her room the night before, she had made him feel as if she were doing it out of desire. Through the night, when they’d made love, she’d made him feel as if he was the only man who had ever pleasured her like that.

When the bounty hunter woke up the next morning he felt embarrassed and glad that Martha was still asleep. He rose, dressed, and put some money on her dresser before leaving. He looked at her while she slept, and she seemed even prettier than she’d been the night before, when her face had been all painted. Now it was clean, and he could see what she really looked like. He was sorry she was a whore and that they hadn’t spent the night together just because they’d wanted to.

He knew why he’d gone with her. It had been a reaction to almost being killed. The worst way for a man to die was to be shot in the back, and he hadn’t escaped by much last night. The best way for a man to know he was alive was to be with a woman—especially a woman as desirable and skilled in lovemaking as Martha.

Out on the street he stretched until his bones cracked. His eyes felt gritty because he’d only slept half the night, and his head ached from the whiskey he’d consumed hours before, but all in all he felt fine.

He was alive.

From his office Kyle Roman could see the Broadus House, and he happened to be looking out the window when Decker came out. Roman knew he couldn’t very well put the squeeze on Brand if Decker took him in. He was going to have to find a way to deal with Decker.

He watched until the bounty hunter was out of sight. Then he walked away from the window and poured himself another cup of coffee.

The only reason a man would be coming out of that place early in the morning would be Martha. For a moment the sheriff envied Decker. He’d spent some time with Martha himself.

The next moment, Roman smiled as he figured out a way to get Decker out of his way without killing him.

Decker entered the livery stable to check on John Henry and found the liveryman in an agitated state, mumbling to himself and shaking his head.

“What’s wrong?” Decker asked.

“Looks like there was a fire here last night,” the old man said.

“A fire?” Decker demanded. “Is my horse all right?”

“Oh, sure, mister. Your horse is fine. Fact of the matter is, it was just a small fire. Looks like somebody put it out with a blanket.”

“Where was the fire?”

“Come to think of it, it was in front of your horse’s stall.”

“Show me.”

The old man led Decker to the spot, and sure enough, there was a scorched patch of hay just across from John Henry’s stall. He went into the stall to check the horse.

“How you doing, boy?” he said. The gelding turned his head and looked at Decker. “Had some excitement here last night? Huh?”

He patted the gelding’s neck, checked him to make sure he hadn’t been injured, and then left the stall. As he did, he stepped on something and looked down.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“What?” the old man said.

Decker bent over and picked the object up. “It’s the heel of a shoe.”

“Looks like it’s from a woman’s shoe.”

“Yeah,” Decker said, turning it over in his hand. “Doesn’t it?”

He looked down at the burnt hay and the scorched blanket. Then he thought about what the man at the poker table had said the night before, about Josephine and her strange man. During the course of the game one of the men had mentioned that the house was at the south end of town.

He wondered if Miss Josephine wasn’t missing a heel from her shoe today.

Decker found a café that was open early and went inside for breakfast. He was glad to be the only customer and put the shoe heel on the table while he ate his eggs and bacon.

If the man living with Josephine was the Baron, then why would he have sent her to the livery? What would she have been doing near John Henry’s stall?

What would she have seen while she was there?

A horse…

A saddle…

And then it hit him.

The hangman’s noose.

His trademark.

Now the Baron knew that Decker was there, but how had he known to send someone to the livery to look? And how had he become aware that Decker was after him in the first place? There was only one answer to that.

Sheriff Kyle Roman.

For some reason, Roman had gone to the Baron and told him that Decker was in town—no, if he had mentioned Decker by name, then the Baron wouldn’t have sent his woman to the livery to check.

Roman was playing his own game here but what was it? If he and the Baron were friends, then he surely would have mentioned Decker by name. Why hadn’t he?

Decker was drinking a cup of coffee when Roman walked into the café. He spotted Decker and walked right over to his table.

“Decker,” he said, “I got to take you in.”

“For what?” the bounty hunter demanded.

“Murder.”

Decker stared at the man and said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You were with a girl named Martha last night.”

“So?”

“So this morning she’s dead, strangled.”

“What?”

“I’m arresting you for her murder.”