Texas Bluff

CHAPTER 40

Butler woke the next morning to the insistent pressure of a naked hip against his. It was smooth and warm and very pleasurable. He reluctantly rolled away from it then turned over to have a look. Her name was Laura and she’d been sent up to his room by Jerry, who said not to worry about paying her.

Her auburn hair was long and covered her face, which he knew to be lovely. Beneath the covers he knew she had round breasts, rounded hips and buttocks. He told Jerry he did not want a skinny girl.

Sitting between Ruby and Kimmie the night before had been stimulating. And when he got back to the White Elephant he had still been feeling it, so he asked Jerry if he knew of any girls, and Jerry being a bartender, of course he did.

He got out of bed, used the pitcher and basin to wash up, and got dressed. He was strapping on his gun when she rolled over and looked at him.

“You don’t want a wake-me-up?” she asked, smiling.

“Nope,” he said. “I think I had that a couple of hours ago. I might not survive another one.”

He took some money from his pocket, showed it to her, and put it on the dresser.

“Jerry said you weren’t supposed to pay.”

“Will he pay you?”

“No.”

“Is he your pimp?”

“Jerry? No.”

“Then you don’t have to give any of this to him?” Butler asked.

“Well, no…”

“Fine,” he said, “then this is just between us.”

She sat up and the sheet fell away, exposing her lovely, chubby breasts.

“Are you gonna want me tonight?”

He didn’t usually use whores, but last night had been a special case.

“I don’t know, Laura,” he said, even though he did know. “Can I contact you through Jerry?”

“Sure.”

“Then I’ll let you know.”

“Well…okay.”

“Thanks,” he said.

As he was going out the door she shouted, “Well, take care, then.”

Sutherland woke up with a fuzzy tongue and even fuzzier head. He immediately gave up the idea of doing any thinking for himself. He was going to get something to eat and then go see his other employer. He’d lay out the whole situation and listen to what the man had to say. If he didn’t want to get involved, fine. Sutherland would just have to try not to get mad and kill the man. He might need him again somewhere down the line. Besides, this really wasn’t his problem, anyway. Sutherland had gotten himself into this mess, and he was going to have to get himself out the way he always did.

With a gun.

Butler went downstairs and had breakfast in the White Elephant dining room. The waiter, who knew him by now, automatically brought steak and eggs and coffee.

“Has Mr. Short been in yet?” Butler asked.

“No, sir, not yet.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“If he comes in would you like me to bring him over?” the young man asked, eager to please the boss’s friend.

“Yes, you can do that. Thanks”—he groped for the man’s name, and found it—“Philip.”

He ate with gusto. Sex was an appetite builder, and sex with Laura had particularly built his appetite. He started to think, why not have her again that night? And then he thought, if I’m alive.

Suddenly, he stopped thinking about Laura and started thinking about Sutherland. Somebody had to know where the man lived. If he was down in Hell’s Half Acre all the time he must have a friend, or somebody who at least knew something about him.

Then he thought of Al Newman. Maybe a man who ran for district attorney would know something about the local criminal element.

He decided he would risk the wrath of Mrs. Newman and go see Al after breakfast.