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Longarm climbed into the warm bathtub with Lucy and they arranged themselves real nice together. But while she splashed, hummed, and got him thoroughly aroused again, Longarm made damn sure he kept one eye on his six-gun.

CHAPTER 5

Early the next morning, Longarm was awakened by a loud knock on his hotel room door. He pushed himself erect, then reached to the bedpost and retrieved his sixgun as Lucy stiffed in her sleep and rolled over to stare at him through one heavily lidded eye.

"Who is it!" Longarm called.

"It's Marshal Pat Putnam," came the reply. "I need to talk to you right away."

Longarm sat up in bed. He had met the local marshal on several occasions and had no strong opinions about him, good or bad. Putnam seemed slow and lethargic, but he was said to be honest and fair-minded with a good grasp of the law.

"I'll meet you downstairs in about five minutes, Pat!" Longarm called out. "Get me some coffee."

"Will do." A long pause. "Are you bringing the woman with you?"

"No," Longarm said, turning to look at Lucy, who was burrowing deeper under the covers.

"Okay," Putnam said. "But I got rounds to make, so don't keep me waiting all morning, Longarm."

"Five minutes," he repeated as he knuckled the sleep from his eyes and rolled out of bed.

"What does he want at this ridiculous hour?" Lucy asked. "For crying out loud, this was to be the first day for me to sleep in since my husband was murdered."

"Go back to sleep," Longarm told her. "I won't be gone long."

"You're going to leave me unattended?" She looked up at him with a question in her pretty eyes. "What if I try another escape?"

"I'll lock the door, and I doubt you'll want to risk climbing out this second-story window."

"You're right."

Longarm dressed quickly, and although he felt sure that Lucy would no longer try to escape, he buckled on his gun, collected his rifle, and locked their door on his way out.

Putnam was waiting in the small dining room, which contained six tables with red-and-white checked linen tablecloths. Longarm's cup of coffee sat steaming.

They shook hands and Longarm said, "I was going to come by and check in with you yesterday afternoon, but time just slipped away from me."

"From what I've heard about your prisoner, that doesn't surprise me," Putnam said with a wink.

Longarm drank his coffee and ordered breakfast. During the next hour, he and the marshal talked about one thing and the other, always coming back to Mrs. Ortega.

"So how come you were asked to deliver her to Yuma via Prescott?" Putnam asked. "the whole thing sounds a little strange to me."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

The local marshal buttered a piece of toast. He was a short, fastidious man who had once been a Pinkerton agent and who was reported to be very good with a gun despite his benign appearance.

"Well," Putnam said, "why reroute you up through Prescott if they don't have something ulterior in mind?"

"Like what?"

Putnam frowned. "My hunch is that this girl has probably convinced your boss that she has been framed. That being the case, he sends you to Prescott hoping that you can dig up some information that supports her story."

"If Billy Vail felt that way, he would have told me so outright," Longarm argued.

"Maybe he couldn't," Putnam said, munching on his toast. "Maybe he is sticking his neck out a little for this woman. It just... just doesn't sound quite right that you should be going to Prescott first. That's all I'm saying. I think that there is more to all this than meets the eye."

Longarm had to admit that Putnam could be right. During the rest of their breakfast, they talked about other things, and when they parted, Putnam Picked up the breakfast check.

"It's on me, and I would like to meet this woman."

"Then follow me upstairs."

"Thanks," Putnam said with a grin as he paid the tab.

When they arrived back at the hotel room, Longarm un locked the door and said under his breath, "She's a little tired and might still be in bed."

"Sure," Putnam said, grinning broadly as Longarm pushed the door open and stepped inside, not quite sure what to expect.

Lucy was dressed and was sitting on the edge of the bed brushing her hair to a luster. She looked, quite honestly, ravishing.

"Well, hello," she said with her sunniest smile.

Longarm introduced Marshal Putnam, who stared and stammered, grinning like crazy. "Pleased to meet you!" he finally managed to say. "I hope that you have an enjoyable rest in our town. Stop by to visit before you leave."

"Thank you," Lucy said, batting her eyelashes.

They made small talk for several minutes, and then Putnam said sheepishly, "Oh, I almost forgot the main reason for coming by, Custis."

"What's that?"

"The Kincade brothers were released from prison last month and they're back in town."

Longarm stiffened. After a botched stagecoach robbery attempt, he'd killed one brother and winged a second. The third had surrendered. It had been Longarm, not Putnam, who'd tracked them down, and the two survivors had sworn undying vengeance.

"You might," Putnam suggested, "want to leave town right now."

"Our horses are played out," Longarm said.

"Trade them in for fresh ones," the marshal suggested. "I'll try to keep an eye on those two, but I can't make any promises, and I can't just arrest them for what they've sworn to do to you."

"I know, Pat." Longarm's brows knitted together. "I'll go over to the livery and see how our horses are looking and if they're shod yet."

"They won't be if Frank is the one that's supposed to do it," the marshal predicted. "He's honest and he's a hell of a nice fella, but he's slower than a grunt."

"Thanks for the warning," Longarm said. "I'll see if I can build a fire under Frank's smokestack. In the meantime, you might just have a word with the Kincades."

"I thought of that, and decided it might be better to say nothing in the hopes that you'll be gone before they even know you were passing through."

"I doubt that will happen," Longarm said. "Albuquerque isn't that big."

"You're right," Putnam agreed. "There's not much that goes on that everyone doesn't hear about it. And I'm thinking that Mrs. Ortega has really got tongues wagging. Tell you what. I'll see if I can dig the Kincade brothers up. I'll create a little distraction to keep their minds on something besides nailing your hide to the livery barn door."

"Much obliged," Longarm said as they parted.

When Longarm arrived at the livery, Frank had their horses out and he was working on their feet. Their coats were brushed and their tails combed free of burrs and tangles.

"I can see you've been busy," Longarm said.

Frank dropped a hoof and straightened. He didn't look very happy this morning. "The Kincade brothers were through here this morning looking for you, Marshal."

"And what did you tell them?"

"I told 'em that you were just passing through and that the smart thing for them to do was to let bygones be bygones. But they didn't seem to cotton to that advice."

"How much longer until our horses are shod?"

Frank straightened, pressed his fingers to the small of his back, and groaned softly. "I don't shoe horses often enough anymore to be tough for it like I used to be. Besides, its a young man's work, too hard on the back for an old fart like me."

Longarm moved over to his horse and saw that all four of its feet were finished. Frank had just gotten started on Lucy's pretty strawberry roan. He'd pulled the shoes and was trimming up the feet and getting them ready for new shoes.

"Looks to me like you've got another hour's worth of work at least," Longarm said.

"No doubt," Frank agreed, nervously looking out through his barn door. "A lot of bad things can happen in an hour. Maybe you'd like to trade this little roan mare in on something else that is ready to travel right now."

Longarm considered this offer for all of about ten seconds, and then he shook his head. "Tell you what, Frank, the day that this poor United States deputy marshal has to sneak out of town to avoid a fight is the day that I'm going to hang up my spurs and six-gun and buy a rocking chair."