The Gunsmith 387 (4 page)

Clint was waiting out front when Carmen came out and locked the door of the cantina behind her.

“Where's Rosa?” he asked. “Why doesn't she lock up?”

“Rosa always leaves first.”

“You know, I've never seen her.”

“Oh, you don't want to,” Carmen said. “She is very ugly.”

“That's not nice.”

“It is very true,” she said. “She is a wonderful cook, but she looks so bad that she just stays hidden in the kitchen all day.”

“That's a shame.”

“She is very happy,” Carmen said, linking her arm in his. “Where shall we go tonight?”

“My hotel,” he said.

“Oh, good,” she said. “I like your hotel room.”

Actually, his hotel room was larger than her little house, but it was all she could afford on what she was paid at the cantina. Carmen was beautiful, but she wouldn't use her beauty to make money, not serving drinks or working in a cathouse.

They walked to the Hotel Especiale, which was the larger of the two hotels in town. Clint's room was on the top floor. They walked through the large, well-furnished lobby to the stairs, and the clerk nodded knowingly at Clint.

“I love walking through this lobby,” she said. “I just wish I was dressed nicer.”

“You look beautiful.”

They went up the stairs to his room. He unlocked the door and let her go in first. It was a two-room suite, the best the hotel had to offer, and the cost was a fraction of what it would have been in the States.

She turned around to face him and said, “I should take a bath.”

“You can do that tomorrow,” he said. “In the morning.”

“But I smell like, well, food.”

He walked to her, put his arms around her, and pulled her close. He could feel her warmth through her dress.

“I like the way you smell after work,” he said, putting his nose in her hair.

“You just like me because I smell like steak,” she said, snuggling up against him.

“You smell like Carmen,” he said, “always.”

She lifted her face to him and he kissed her, gently at first, and then more ardently. While he was kissing her, he worked her dress off her shoulders and down around her waist. Her full, bare breasts were hot and smooth. He kissed her neck, and her shoulders, worked his way down to her breasts, nibbled on her nipples. She sighed, held his head there. Her brown nipples swelled in his mouth.

He walked her to the other room, to the bed, where he sat her down and worked her dress off completely. She had a lovely, streamlined body, with small, rounded breasts and slim hips. She was an elegant girl who really didn't know it.

He kissed her, then stood up, removed his gun, and hung it on the bedpost. Carmen went to work on his trousers and before long had them down around his ankles. She took his cock in her hands, stroked it, leaned forward, and kissed it. She moaned, licked him, and then took him into her mouth. She sucked him, rubbing her hands up and down his legs, taking his bare ass in her hands and pulling him to her so hard he staggered because his pants were around his ankles.

So she sat him down on the bed, removed his boots and trousers, then laid him on his back and straddled him. Dangling her pert breasts in his face, she took him inside her steaming depths and began to ride him. He moved his hips with hers, kept his hands all over her, and they moved faster and faster until he bucked her off, slipped her over, spread her legs, and drove himself into her. He grabbed her ankles, spread her even more, and fucked her while she spoke Spanish to him, inflaming him . . .

 * * * 

Later they lay together on the bed and she asked, “Did you see your friend down by the beach?”

“I did. I had a late breakfast with Avery and his wife. She's pregnant.”

“She does not like me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because she calls me a whore.”

“No—”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “I have heard her, my friends have heard her.”

“Well . . . why?”

“I do not know,” she said. “So please. Do not ever invite me to go there with you.”

“Okay, I won't.”

“But you must continue to see your friend.”

“I will.”

“He must be very happy about the baby.”

“He is,” Clint said. “I'm surprised he was able to do that, though. At his age. I think even he's surprised.”

“We are not surprised about that in Mexico,” she said. “Our men become even more potent with age.”

“That's good,” Clint said. “Maybe he caught some of that.”

She slid her hand down between his legs and took hold of him.

“Hmm,” she said, “I think perhaps you have caught it as well.”

“Then let's test it out, why don't we?”

Cord Rydell and Hal Chance rode through several more towns after their experience in El Diablo. They heard no news about the shootings there.

“Maybe news don't travel fast,” Chance said.

“Suits me,” Rydell said. “Whether we have to shoot it out again or not, suits me.”

“These Mexicans sure can't shoot,” Chance said. “Not the storekeepers or the bandidos.”

“Well, so far we ain't met up with any Federales or lawmen,” Rydell said.

“I don't think we'll have to worry much about them either.”

“We'll see,” Rydell said. “Don't kid yourself. I've run into some pretty good lawmen down here.”

“Like who?”

“Never mind,” Rydell said. “Just don't underestimate the law.”

Chance laughed. “Like that lawman in El Diablo?”

“You never gave him a chance,” Rydell said.

“Yeah, and that's the way I like to treat my lawmen. Make 'em dead.”

“There's the cantina,” Rydell said. “Let's see if we can get in and out without killin' anybody this time.”

“Hey, I just need to find me a señorita—”

“No girls this time,” Rydell said. “This is business.”

“Ah, Cord—”

“You heard me.”

“What if your man ain't there and we have to wait?” Chance asked.

“You can have food and drink,” Rydell said, “no girls.”

“Ahhh . . .”

They dismounted, tied their horses off, and went inside.

They stopped just inside the door and looked around. The place was almost empty, so it was easy to see that Rydell's man wasn't there.

“What if he don't come?” Chance asked.

“We'll wait,” Rydell said. “He'll be here.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I am,” Rydell said. “That's all you need to know. Come on.”

Rydell led his partner to the bar and ordered them two beers.

With a mug in his hand, Chance turned and looked around the place. There were no girls on the floor. That suited Rydell, but not Chance.

“What kinda place has no girls?” he complained.

“Just relax,” Rydell said. “I'm serious. We don't want no trouble this time.”

“Hey,” Chance said, “I ain't one who goes lookin' for trouble.”

“No, I know that, Chance,” Rydell said. “I know that.”

 * * * 

They were working on their second beers when the batwing doors opened and a man stepped in. He looked around, spotted Rydell, and came walking over.

“Rydell,” he said.

“Oates. Beer?”

“Oh, yeah. Who's this?”

“Lyle Oates, meet Hal Chance.”

Oates and Chance nodded to each other, and Oates gratefully accepted a beer from the bartender. He immediately drank half of it down. He was in his thirties, with long, lank hair and sunken eyes.

“Ahhhh, that's good. Been ridin' for a while.”

“You got somethin' for me, Oates?” Rydell asked.

“Yeah, I got somethin',” Oates said. “Your man's holed up in a beach town down south called Laguna Niguel.”

“How far away?” Chance asked.

“Coupla days.”

“But we're already near the water.”

“It's still a coupla days away,” Oates said. “The ocean's pretty big, pardner.”

Chance looked at Rydell, who nodded.

“Pretty big,” he agreed.

“Damn!” Chance said.

“You wanna ride with us?” Rydell asked Oates.

“What's in it for me?” Oates asked.

“Ride with us a while,” Rydell suggested. “I think you'll like what you hear.”

“And if I don't?”

“I'll pay you the same again, and you can be on your way,” Rydell said. “But I think you'll want to come along.”

Oates looked at Chance, and while he wasn't looking for any kind of affirmation, Chance nodded.

“Yeah, okay,” Oates said, “but can we get somethin' to eat first?”

“Definitely,” Rydell said, “but we'll be ridin' out as soon as we're done.”

“No bed?” Oates asked.

“No girls?” Chance asked.

“Just food,” Rydell said, “and then we'll be on our way.”

 * * * 

They sat at a back table and had some burritos and beer.

“You see him?” Rydell asked.

“Huh?” Oates said with his mouth full.

“Did you see him in this town?”

“No, I didn't see him myself,” Oates said. “Somebody else saw him.”

“Who?”

“That don't matter,” Oates said. “Just somebody I know.”

“Can you trust him?”

“Huh?”

“Trust. Can you trust him?”

“Whataya talkin' about, trust? Men like us, trust don't ever come into what we do. Can you trust him?” he asked, pointing at Chance. “Can he trust you? Can I trust you?”

“Okay, okay,” Rydell said. “Can you depend on his information?”

“Yeah, I can depend on his information.”

“What about the local law?”

“He's no pushover, but his deputies are a waste.”

“Okay,” Rydell said, “okay, it sounds good.”

“What about the guy?” Chance asked.

“What about him?”

“He got anybody around him?”

“Nobody we have to worry about,” Oates said. “He's a sittin' duck.”

Chance picked up his beer and said, “Here's to sittin' ducks.”

Oates got up to leave the cantina first. He went to the batwings, looked outside, then turned and came back.

“I got bad news,” he said.

“What?” Rydell asked.

“There are Mexican lawmen waitin' outside.

“How did that happen?” Rydell said. “How'd they know we were here?”

“They don't know you're here.”

“Then what?” Chance asked.

“Well, they, uh, followed me here.”

“They what?”

“Followed me.”

“What for?”

“Well, I had some trouble on my way here.”

“So you led them here?”

Oates shrugged and said, “I figured you'd help me out, you know? I mean, you want me to go with ya, right?”

“You're a sonofabitch, you know that, Oates?” Chance said.

“Yeah, I know that.”

“All right,” Rydell said, “so how many are out there?”

“Maybe half a dozen.”

“We handled half a dozen in that little shit town,” Chance reminded Rydell.

“Yeah, half a dozen storekeepers. This is different. These are—what kind of lawmen are they?” he asked Oates.

“Federales.”

“Great,” Rydell said. “Now we're gonna be on the hook for killin' a bunch of Federales.”

“Look,” Oates said, “we take care of these fellas, we go and get your guy, and then we hightail it back to the States. Easy as pie.”

“Yeah, right,” Rydell said. “Okay, look, Oates. You're gonna have to go out the front door.”

“We're all goin' out the front, ain't we?”

“No, me and Chance are goin' out the back.”

“And then what?”

“Chance and I will go around and come at them from both sides.”

“What do I do?”

“Just go out the front and make like you're gonna surrender,” Rydell said.

“Surrender?”

“Yeah, you know. Hands up? Then you draw your gun, and we'll be right there with ya.”

Oates stared at Rydell.

“Cord . . . I can trust you on this, right?”

“Right,” Rydell said. “We'll get this done and then you'll take us to—what's that town?”

“Laguna Niguel.”

“Right, Laguna Niguel. Now go.”

“Thanks, Cord.”

Oates headed for the front door.

 * * * 

As the batwing doors opened, Capitan Huerta lifted his arm and told his men, “Get ready, hombres.”

They raised their rifles.

The gringo came out the doors with his hands up.

“I'm surrenderin'!” he yelled. “See? My hands are up.”

“Drop your weapon to the ground, gringo!” Huerta shouted.

“Yeah, okay,” Oates said, and drew his gun.

Huerta dropped his arms and his men fired, riddling Oates with bullets. His bloody body fell to the boardwalk, blood soaking into the wood.

 * * * 

“What about our horses?” Chance asked Rydell.

They were behind the cantina, waiting for the shooting to be done.

“Don't worry,” Rydell said, “we'll pick them up after they move the body.”

“You sure that's all they'll do?” Chance asked. “They won't come lookin' for us?”

“They followed Oates here,” Rydell said. “They ain't after us.”

“I thought you here really gonna help him.”

“Are you kiddin'?” Rydell said. “That idiot brought the Federales with him. We don't need that kind of trouble, Chance.”

“Are you sure you know where Laguna Niguel is?” Chance asked.

“Don't worry. We didn't need Oates for anythin' else.”

“I guess he was right.”

“About what?”

“Not bein' able to trust each other.”

“As long as you do what you're supposed to do,” Rydell said, “don't worry about trust, Chance.”

“I know,” Chance said, “that ain't for guys like us.”