who the gang members were or where they were holed up, the Marshals returned to Denver with their proverbial tails between their legs. Since they left six weeks ago . . .â
âThe gang has gone back to work,â Haskell finished for his boss.
âThere you have it,â Pinkerton said, pointing the pointer at his agents, nodding his head like a proud schoolmaster. âAnd theyâve murdered another local lawman, a fill-in for the dead town marshal of Spotted Horse. At least, the man is presumed dead. After a recent robbery, he headed out alone into the buttes to see if he could uncover the culpritsâ prints. He hasnât been seen or heard from since.â
Haskell rolled his stogie from one side of his mouth to the other. âBoss, donât tell me women are responsible for this depravity!â
Raven glanced at him coolly, blinked once slowly, and said, âYou think women incapable of savagery, Agent Haskell?â
There was nothing satisfying in her gaze. Nothing, at any rate, that acknowledged their history. She was looking at him now as if he were a damn fool sheâd gotten herself stuck on another assignment with.
Haskell said, âOh, Iâll admit, women can be savage in their own ways. You knowâservinâ supper late when theyâre piss-burned at their husbands or givinâ one of their own down-the-road because she served the wrong cake at the last Bible meetinâ. But killinâ lawmen, causinâ another to disappear ? Pshaw!â
Well, heâd wanted eye contact with the girl. Now he was getting it in spades. Pinkerton was staring at him, too, uncertainly, shifting his stare toward Raven, who continued to stare at Bear as though he were something a mule had deposited on the visitorâs chair beside her.
Haskell felt himself wilt, and, remembering how sheâd saved his life aboard a train by impaling his would-be executioner with one of her own monogrammed, razor-edged stilettos, he said, âUh, present company excepted, of course.â
She stared at him flatly for another beat before dipping her chin slightly and saying tonelessly, âThank you, Agent Haskell . . . I think.â
âMiss York,â Pinkerton said, moving up and down once on the balls of his half-boots, âI know this shouldnât be necessary, but I do apologize for the uncouthness of the man beside you. He is purely a bull . . . er, I dare say a bear in a tea shop. But then, having been on one assignment with him already, Iâm sure youâre well aware of that.â
âI am, indeed, Mr. Pinkerton,â she said in the same toneless voice as before.
âI implore you to tolerate him as best you can. Youâll no doubt have to do most of the thinking on this assignment. I just hope his brawn wonât become necessary, but in case it doesââhe tossed his head at Haskellââthere youâll have it.â
âI reckon you have to take the horns with the hide,â Raven said, fabricating an ironic Texas drawl to match Haskellâs own natural one.
Pinkerton and Raven shared a laugh at that. Haskell had never enjoyed laughter at his own expense, and, his ears warming, he didnât like it much now, though he was smart enough to know he deserved every note of it.
âYeah, well, you can stop talking about me like I ainât here. And if we could, boss, Iâd like to get back to the topic at hand so I can track down a steak and a big bottle of Sam Clay before headinâ up to that swelterinâ Pumpkin Butte country.â
Haskell glanced at Raven, scowling, and then returned his gaze to Pinkerton, who was still smiling on the lee side of his laughter. âSo, as I was sayinâ, itâs women who done that to them lawmen, women robbinâ all them stagecoaches?â
âNot only women but men as well,â Pinkerton said. âBut itâs two women leading up the
Codi Gary
Amanda M. Lee
Marian Tee
James White
P. F. Chisholm
Diane Duane
Melissa F Miller
Tamara Leigh
Crissy Smith
Geraldine McCaughrean