Slocum and the Glitter Girls at Gravel Gulch (9781101619513) by Jake Logan Page B

train. Fair figures. Mad as a couple of wet hens when I talked to them.”
    “About what?” Orson asked.
    “The one named Bonnie saw her mail-order groom hanging from the gallows. The other one, Renata, knows her man is locked up to be hanged this afternoon.”
    “Perfect,” Orson said. “They have no ties here or anywhere else.”
    “I think they feel stood up,” Marlene said and this time her teeth showed when she smiled.
    The men at the table chuckled.
    “That’s a good one, Marlene,” Orson said. “They were stood up by a couple of horse thieves.”
    Marlene seemed to wince at this outright lie. But she knew Orson believed what he was saying and she wasn’t going to argue with him.
    “The good thing is that they’re both flat broke, and when I offered them jobs at the Wild Horse, they seemed interested.”
    “Did they ask what their chores would be?” Orson asked.
    Marlene laughed.
    “They did, but I didn’t tell them. I just said I needed help serving drinks and sweeping up. Bonnie used to work as a scullery maid in some little town and Renata did laundry for a lumber camp in Missouri or somewhere.”
    “How far will they go to please these galoots in Deadfall?” Orson asked.
    “Once I dress them up and turn them into glitter girls, I think they’ll tumble into bed with anyone who wears pants. They’ll like the extra money I’ll pay them.”
    “All you got now are a couple of Mex gals that look saddle-sore and tired,” Boze said.
    “That’s right. Maria and Teresa. They have about as much fire as a burned-out match.”
    Marlene crossed her legs and pulled on her cigarette.
    “So you think these two gals can rake in some silver up in their cribs,” Orson said.
    She looked at her boss and grinned.
    “You want to break them in, Orson? They’re not virgins, but they’re dumb as monkeys. About the world, I mean.”
    “No, I’ll let the boys take on that job,” Orson said. “Maybe Cassaway and Nehring would like to wet their whistles and dip their wicks when you got those gals all dressed up.”
    “Maria and Teresa are going to fit them out this afternoon. They can do any sewing needs to be done.”
    “You’re a good woman, Marlene,” Orson said. “Smart in business and tough as nails. Too bad you never found a man.”
    Orson didn’t think he was being condescending, but Marlene’s eyes seemed to change color from deep brown to a pale tan as if she had been slapped across the face with a wet hide.
    “Let’s say I’ve had a good look at the lives of glitter girls, Orson, and it’s not something I’d do myself. I’d rather run a business and I don’t like strings. I’m not a puppet.”
    “No, you’re not, Marlene,” Orson said. “That’s what I like about you. You don’t take any shit off of anyone and you run your business the way I like to run mine. So you think those gals will work out at the Wild Horse?”
    “I’d bet on it, Orson,” Marlene said. “Once they see themselves in the mirror with black mesh stockings, red garters, and short silk skirts with low bodices, they’ll fall in love with themselves, and if they don’t know how to flirt, I’ll teach them.”
    Hack and Boze laughed.
    Orson squinted down at his cigar and took a couple of short puffs. Then he lifted his coffee cup again and drank from it.
    “You do know how to flirt, Marline,” Orson said.
    “And I know how far to go, Orson.”
    “That you do,” Orson admitted.
    Marlene smoked and uncrossed her legs. She brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
    “Whit said to tell you he’s going over to talk to Butterbean.”
    “What for?” Orson asked.
    “He wonders if he has to feed that prisoner you’re going to hang this afternoon. What’s his name? Hornaday?”
    “Wallace Hornaday,” Orson said. He slipped a gold watch from his pocket and looked at the time, then stuffed it back, leaving the chain loop dangling.
    “Whit said sometimes Butterbean doesn’t want to feed a man he’s