Hell Town

Chapter 21

The same sort of racket came from the Alhambra that had come from the Crown Royal until the explosion a couple of nights earlier. The donkey engines, the compressor that powered the steam drills down in the mine, the shuddering thumps of the stamp mill in action…

A mine was a noisy place, and one that stunk a mite too, Frank thought as he rode up. The frontier had been a lot more peaceful before all this newfangled machinery came along, starting with the railroad. Frank was old enough to remember what it had been like before. He could only imagine the changes that some of the real old-timers, like Catamount Jack, had seen in their lifetimes.

Frank brought Stormy to a halt and dismounted in front of the building where the office was located. The place had been cleaned up and repaired a lot since that day he and Garrett Claiborne had stopped by here and almost gotten themselves gunned down for their trouble. At least, Hammersmith wasn’t taking potshots anymore at anybody who happened to come riding along.

Hamish Munro’s private stagecoach was parked in front of the building. His guard and driver sat on the edge of the porch, smoking. The guard had his rifle across his lap, and his eyes followed Frank closely.

“What do you want, Marshal?” he asked.

“I’m looking for your boss,” Frank replied. “Is he inside?”

Before the guard could answer, the door of the office opened and Hamish Munro stepped out. “What do you want, Marshal?” the mining magnate demanded.

“Hammersmith around?”

“I thought I heard you say you were looking for me.”

Frank nodded. “Oh, I was. I just thought I’d talk to both of you together, save a little time that way.”

“Hammersmith is tending to some chores I assigned to him,” Munro said. “Anything you have to say, you can say it to me. If I deem it worthwhile of his time, I’ll pass it along to him.”

“All right then, if that’s the way you want it.” Frank hooked his thumbs in his belt and asked, “Have you had any trouble out here at the mine?”

“What sort of trouble?”

“I reckon you heard about what happened at the Crown Royal a couple of nights ago.”

Munro pursed his lips. “Yes, of course. A terrible accident. Sorry for the loss of life. But nothing like that has happened here.”

Frank didn’t think Munro sounded the least bit sorry. He said, “I want you to know, I’m going to find out who was responsible for that blast and bring them to justice.”

“I thought you killed the four men who set that dynamite,” Munro said with a frown.

“I shot three of them when they threw down on me. I reckon the fourth one was killed by whoever hired them, so that he couldn’t answer any questions about who was really to blame for what happened.”

Munro shook his head and scowled. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

“Didn’t say you would,” Frank pointed out. “All I’m saying is that I’m going to continue to investigate until I get to the bottom of that business, and when I do, whoever came up with the idea of blowing up the Crown Royal’s stamp mill is going to be mighty sorry.”

In a harsh, angry voice, Munro asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

Frank shrugged. “So you’ll know that if anything suspicious happens around your mine, I’ll look into it the same way. If you have any trouble, just let me know and I’ll see what I can do.”

Munro’s bushy, reddish-gray eyebrows lowered even more, as Frank’s reply appeared to confuse him. “All right,” he said. “Is that all?”

“You’re sure nothing’s happened out here that you want to report?”

“I’m certain,” Munro snapped.

Frank reached for Stormy’s reins. “I reckon I’ll be getting back to town then.” He swung up into the saddle. “Come on, Dog.”

He turned the Appaloosa and rode away. Without looking over his shoulder, he felt Munro’s eyes on him anyway, gazing after him with what had to be a mixture of hatred, anger, and puzzlement. Munro had been ready to take offense when he thought that Frank was about to accuse him of being involved with the explosion at the Crown Royal, but Frank’s sudden change of tactic had confused him.

That was the idea. It was always better to keep an enemy off balance—and Frank was still convinced that Munro was the enemy. He had put the man on notice that he was going to continue investigating that dynamite blast until he found the true culprits. Maybe that would spook Munro into doing something rash, like trying to have him killed.

Frank hoped that Munro would send a bushwhacker after him. He would take his chances, willing to run the risk because he was confident that if he could get his hands on a prisoner, he could get a confession implicating Munro or Hammersmith—or both of them.

Then, as he had promised Munro, he would see to it that they got what was coming to them.

Hammersmith fully expected Jessica to pull away from him, to slap him across the face, to run screaming for her husband. He figured it would be worth losing his job to taste the sweetness of her mouth and feel the warmth of her body in his arms.

She did none of those things.

Instead, she returned the kiss with the same passionate intensity that Hammersmith put into it.

When she finally took her lips away from his after a long, delicious moment, she said in a half whisper, “My goodness, Gunther, I was beginning to think you were never going to get around to that.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You…you wanted me to kiss you?”

“Of course. What girl wouldn’t want to be kissed by a big, strong, handsome man like you?”

A tiny voice in the back of his head warned him that she had to be flattering him like that for a reason. Big and strong he was, sure enough, but handsome? No one had ever accused him of that.

Logic was one thing, though, and the incredible feeling he had inside him at this moment was something else entirely. Maybe she had some unknown motive for playing up to him. He didn’t care. All he knew was that she hadn’t objected when he kissed her, so he clutched her to him and did it again.

This kiss was just as potent as the first one, but when it ended she put both hands against his broad, muscular chest and said, “That’s enough now. You don’t want to muss me up too much, or Mr. Munro is liable to notice. I don’t want him to know that I’ve been up to any mischief.”

“Neither do I,” Hammersmith agreed. “I don’t want to cause any trouble for you.”

“Then we’ll just pretend this little incident never happened….”

His heart sank.

“Until we get a chance to do it again,” she went on as she reached up to rest a gloved hand against his cheek. “And maybe more.”

Hammersmith’s excitement rose again. “You mean it?”

“Gunther, honey, I never say anything I don’t mean.”

With that statement to give him hope, Hammersmith said, “I guess we’d better get back to the office.”

“Lead the way,” Jessica said with her sweet smile.

Hammersmith took her the rest of the way out of the shaft, letting go of her arm as they emerged into the sunlight. As they started toward the office, he spotted a man riding away. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought the man on horseback was Frank Morgan.

“What the hell?” he muttered.

“Is there a problem?” Jessica asked.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he answered. He didn’t want her to see how much the idea of Morgan poking around the Alhambra bothered him. He had been able to put aside in his mind that killing from a couple of nights earlier, but he didn’t want Morgan stirring things up again.

When they reached the office, Hamish Munro was waiting on the porch. He looked distracted by something, but he put a smile on his face and asked Jessica, “Did you enjoy your look around the mine, my dear?”

“Very much,” she replied. “Mr. Hammersmith was quite informative about what was going on down there, and he watched out for my safety every step of the way.”

Munro grunted. “That’s good.” He turned his attention to the superintendent. “Hammersmith, I have to talk to you—”

“I’m really a little tired, Hamish,” Jessica broke in. “I’d like to go inside the office to sit down and rest for a while before we start back to town, if that’s all right.”

“Of course,” Munro said. He came down the steps to take her arm and help her up. “You go right on inside. The chair behind the desk isn’t all that comfortable—”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, dear.”

Munro pointed a finger at Hammersmith and ordered, “Wait right there.”

Hammersmith did so, and then after a moment, when Munro came back out of the office, the owner of the Alhambra said, “Let’s walk over toward the shaft.”

The guard asked, “You want me and Billy to come with you, Mr. Munro?”

“No, you can stay here. I’m in no danger here at the mine.”

Munro stalked off toward the shaft. Hammersmith went with him, and as soon as they were out of earshot of the men at the office, he asked in a low voice, “Was that Morgan I saw riding off?”

“It certainly was.”

“What did that bastard want?”

“He believes that you and I are responsible for that explosion at the Crown Royal two nights ago.”

“Damn it!” Hammersmith burst out. “How could he know about—”

Munro lifted a hand and made a curt gesture to stop him. “I don’t know anything about how that explosion happened, Hammersmith, and I want to keep it that way. You’d do well to remember that.”

“Yes, sir,” Hammersmith said. Munro was touchy about things like that and always had been. He would hint around about what he wanted accomplished, but he never wanted to know any of the details of how the dirty work got done. Hammersmith supposed that was Munro’s way of protecting his own ass. Munro wanted to be able to swear in court, if it ever came down to it, that he had no guilty knowledge of anything.

That seemed a little cowardly to Hammersmith, but Munro was the one with the money and power. He was the one who made the rules.

“If Morgan’s not careful, something’s liable to happen to him,” Hammersmith said. “Some folks don’t like it when a lawman starts poking around in their affairs.”

He phrased the comments with care, thinking that this was a damned waste of time. It would be a lot easier if he could just come right out and ask Munro if he wanted the marshal killed.

Munro would balk at that, though, so Hammersmith talked around the idea instead.

After frowning in thought for a moment, Munro said, “I think that’s exactly what Morgan hopes will happen. He’d like to stir up a hornet’s nest so that someone will come after him. The wise thing to do would be to not give the marshal what he wants.”

“It would?” Hammersmith asked, getting a little confused now himself. He wanted to make sure he was clear on what Munro wanted.

“That’s right. Morgan can investigate all he wants to. He’s not going to find out anything. The men who planted that dynamite at the Crown Royal are all dead, aren’t they?”

“Yeah,” Hammersmith said, his voice heavy. “They’re all dead.”

“So if anyone else was involved, Morgan won’t be able to discover it. He’s wasting his time. Doesn’t it seem that way to you?”

Hammersmith knew what Munro was asking. He wanted to know if there was anything to tie the four dead men to either of them. Hammersmith had taken great care to insure that there wasn’t.

“Yeah, he’s wasting his time.”

Munro nodded. “Good. We can move on to other things. That terrible accident at the Crown Royal has given us a definite advantage for a while. Our only real competition now is Woodford’s Lucky Lizard Mine.”

“Something might happen there too,” Hammersmith said, knowing that Munro would take his meaning correctly.

“Not an explosion, though. That would be an incredible coincidence. Some people might not believe that it was a coincidence.”

“What do you reckon might cause the most problems for them?”

Munro smiled. “It would be very unfortunate for Woodford if he was hit with the bane of all mining men: labor troubles. A miners’ strike would shut down the Lucky Lizard for no telling how long.”

Hammersmith rubbed his heavy jaw in thought. “I don’t think Woodford has to worry too much about that,” he said after a few seconds. “From what I hear, he treats the fellas who work for him pretty good.”

“Well, you never know. All it takes is one or two hotheads to stir things up. Miners are like sheep, Hammersmith. They’re easily led, and once they get some idea in their head, it’s almost impossible to get it out.”

“Yeah, maybe. Let me think about it, Boss.”

“Don’t think too long,” Munro snapped. “Every mine I’ve ever been involved with has been the largest and most successful in its area. Things aren’t going to be any different here.”

“We’re well on our way. I got a feeling the Lucky Lizard’s in for a run of bad luck, one way or another.” Hammersmith paused, then added, “Did you want to talk about the assay reports?”

“I looked them over,” Munro said. “The preliminary tests indicate that with the new methods, the ore will assay out at a satisfactory amount of silver per ton. I think you should go ahead and increase production as much as possible right away.”

Hammersmith nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

“I’ve no doubt of that.”

It should have made Hammersmith feel better for Munro to express his confidence that way, but for some reason, it didn’t. For one thing, only half an hour earlier, Hammersmith had been kissing Munro’s wife and running his eager hands over her body. For another, Hammersmith couldn’t forget that Munro had things set up so that if anybody ever got in trouble with the law over the things they had been doing, it would be him, Gunther Hammersmith. Munro wasn’t that worried about Morgan because the marshal couldn’t prove anything against him. It might be a different story where Hammersmith was concerned.

Despite what Munro had said earlier, maybe it was time to start thinking about how some “accident” might befall Frank Morgan….

When they got back to the office, they found Jessica rested and ready for the ride back to Buckskin. She took Hammersmith’s hand in hers and squeezed it as she said, “Thank you again, Mr. Hammersmith. You were an excellent host.”

“Always glad to oblige, ma’am,” he told her. “Come back and visit the Alhambra any time you want.”

“I think one visit will be enough for Jessica,” Munro said. “Come along, my dear.”

He helped her into the coach and followed her inside. The driver and the guard climbed onto the box, and a moment later the stagecoach was rolling over the dusty trail back to the settlement, a couple of miles away. Hammersmith watched it go, thinking about what Munro had said. He’d been forced to hide his disappointment when Munro decreed that Jessica wouldn’t be coming out to the mine anymore. He figured that she would be able to change his mind about that if she wanted to. He hoped she wanted to.

If not, he would just have to find a way to see her in town. Hammersmith’s mind was full at the moment, thoughts about various subjects whirling around inside his head. He had to worry about Frank Morgan and come up with a way to foment a miners’ strike at the Lucky Lizard.

But uppermost in his thoughts were Jessica Munro and his need to see her again. To hold her in his arms once more and feast on those sweet lips of hers. To experience all the wonders that her sleek, supple body promised.

All the other problems sort of paled beside that, and he was very glad that she had accompanied her husband today.

“You look tired, my dear,” Hamish Munro said as they rocked along in the coach.

“I am,” Jessica said. “This visit to the mine was interesting, but I’m exhausted now.”

“Really?” Munro frowned. “I was hoping that when we got back to the hotel….”

“I’m sorry, Hamish. I’m afraid all I want to do when I get back is soak in a hot tub to get this rock dust off of me, then have a nice long nap.”

The look of disappointment on his face was priceless, she thought. He was so easily manipulated. She could dictate his moods according to her whims, jerking him around like a puppet on a string. To the world, he was Hamish Munro, as rich and powerful as a king. But to Jessica he was just another man, powerless in the face of his need for her. He actually thought that she loved him, and as long as he believed that, he would do anything she wanted him to.

She had looked over the assay reports in the office while her husband was off talking to Gunther Hammersmith. They were probably plotting something together, as men liked to do. Jessica didn’t care. Let them play their games. She had found out what she wanted to know. She knew how the ore assayed out, and her brain could calculate the income per ton even faster than Munro’s could. It was easy to speculate on how much the mine would be worth in the long run.

It had been a productive day in other ways too. Hammersmith had bitten hard on the hook, and now she had him on the line if she needed him. Pulling him in would be no challenge at all. When the time came, with Hammersmith’s help, she could make herself a very rich woman indeed. All she had to do was wait for the right moment….

Jessica became aware that Munro was looking at her from the stagecoach’s other seat. There was no suspicion in his eyes, only longing.

She smiled at him. She could throw him that bone anyway.

It was all he was going to get.