Death in the Desert by J. R. Roberts Page B

right.”
    Clint went to the front desk, got behind, inspected the keys, and then chose one. He held it up to Kathy and said, “The honeymoon suite okay? It’s probably the biggest room in the hotel.”
    â€œSounds good to me.”
    The Magnolia was a large hotel, fashioned after a Southern mansion, three stories high. The honeymoon suite was on the third floor. They walked up.
    â€œWow!” Emily said. “What a pretty room.”
    Although it was a “honeymoon suite,” and both a man and a woman would be using it, the room was decorated all in pink and was wall-to-wall frills.
    Clint walked to one of two windows and looked out. The suite looked out over the main street.
    â€œThis is a fine view of this part of town,” Clint said, “both ways, and the rooftops across the street.”
    â€œYou want me to keep watch?” Kathy asked.
    â€œI want you to stay away from the window,” Clint said. “Every so often, though, have a peek outside and see what’s going on. If you hear any noise, take a look. And keep Emily away from the window.”
    â€œI can keep watch, too,” Emily said.
    â€œI know you can, sweetie,” Clint said, “but I really need you to stay away from the windows.”
    She folded her arms indignantly and said, “Hmph.”
    Clint looked at Kathy.
    â€œI’ll keep her away from the windows,” Kathy assured him.
    â€œOkay,” Clint said. “I’m going to go out the back and see if I can locate those men again.”
    â€œAre you gonna go against them?”
    â€œI’m going to see if I can determine without a doubt how many of them there are,” Clint said. “Maybe we can stay hidden long enough for them to pack up and move out.”
    â€œYou’re not going to try to stop them?”
    â€œThat’s not my job, Kathy,” Clint said.
    â€œBut . . . you can’t just let them take everything,” she argued. “What if they decide to go through my house? Take my valuables?”
    â€œWhat valuables do you have?” Clint asked. “I can go get them for you.”
    â€œWell . . . just everything,” she said. “everything in the house. That house is all I have, Clint.”
    â€œThey’re not going to take your house,” Clint said.
    â€œB-But you can’t just stand by while they loot the town,” she said.
    â€œLook,” Clint said, “first let me scout around and find out how many men we’re actually dealing with. Then we can talk about what to do.”
    â€œYes,” she said, “well, all right. Okay.”
    â€œEmily,” Clint said, “I’ll be back soon. You do what Kathy tells you to do.”
    â€œAll right.”
    â€œAnd stay away from the windows, you hear?”
    â€œI hear.”
    Clint went to the door, looked back at the two of them one more time, then left the suite.

EIGHTEEN
    Clint slipped out the back door of the hotel, made his way to Kathy’s part of town, keeping to the shadows as it got dark. As he got there, he saw two men outside the house he’d put the body in. They were talking to each other, very animated. Then the door opened and a third man came out—the supervisor. Clint moved closer so he could hear what they were saying . . .
•   •   •
    â€œSomebody plugged him once,” the supervisor said.
    â€œWe didn’t hear no shot,” one of the others said.
    â€œToo far away,” the boss said. Clint was still waiting to hear his name. He didn’t have to wait much longer.
    â€œSteve, what’s goin’ on?” the second man said. “Who killed Kenny?”
    â€œI don’t know,” Steve said.
    â€œWell,” the first man said, “somebody’s in town with us—somebody we ain’t seen yet. I don’t like it.”
    â€œNeither do I,” Steve said.