Under a Turquoise Sky by J. R. Roberts Page B

door.
    â€œAdams.”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œDo me a favor.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou have to kill them two jaspers on the trail?” Cafferty said. “Bury ’em there.”
    â€œI’ll keep that in mind.”
    Â 
    Carl Breckens regarded the two men sitting across from him at Saloon No. 1. Aaron Edwards wasn’t there; he was still keeping an eye on Clint Adams.
    â€œHave you both got this straight?” he asked.
    â€œYeah, sure,” one of them, Jeff Kemp, said. “We got three men to kill.”
    â€œOne is more important than the other two,” Breckens said. “The other two we only kill if we have to, if they get in the way.”
    â€œWe got it,” Kemp’s partner, Paul Drake, said.
    â€œAnd nobody fires until I say so.”
    â€œWe got it, Carl,” Kemp said. “When do we do this?”
    â€œThey’re headin’ out tomorrow,” Breckens said. “We’ll hit them somewhere on the trail. They can’t get to that mine. Understand?”
    â€œWe understand, Carl,” Kemp said. “We ain’t stupid.”
    â€œJust make sure we get paid what we agreed on,” Drake said.
    â€œDon’t worry,” Breckens said, “this job gets done, we all get paid.”

TWENTY-THREE
    Clint was hungry for supper after the big lunch he had with Buck Chance and Axel. Since he didn’t know what he’d find in Beale Springs, or at the Blue Lady Mine, he decided to indulge some of his vices again that night. He went to the Nighthawk Saloon and saw Shannon working the floor. She spotted him when he walked in and waved but did not abandon the men whose table she was sitting at.
    He walked to the crowded bar, elbowed himself a spot and waved down the bartender.
    â€œBack for more?” the man asked. “Don’t think there’s a game goin’ in this crowd.”
    â€œThat’s okay,” Clint said. “I’ll just take a beer.”
    â€œComin’ up.”
    The other men at the bar seemed to recognize him, because they had cleared out more room for him than he actually needed. Clint didn’t mind. He liked the extra room.
    The bartender came with Clint’s beer, took his money and went down to the other end. Clint turned and watched Shannon talk to three men at a table. She was sitting on the lap of one of them, doing her job, keeping them happy and drinking. He knew she was very good at her job, and he knew she was even better at her job when it wasn’t a job.
    Eventually she left the lap of the man, stroked his face with her hand, went by a couple of other tables and made her way over to Clint.
    â€œIt’s hard to work tonight,” she told him, coming in close so he could smell her and look down her dress. “My legs are still shaking.”
    â€œMine, too,” he said. “I think you were trying to kill me.”
    â€œMe?” she said. “I could hardly keep up with you. What brings you here tonight? I’m sure it’s not the beer.”
    â€œI have to leave in the morning.”
    She looked surprised.
    â€œFor good?”
    â€œNo,” he said. “I’m going up to one of the mines. I’m sure I’ll be back in a couple of days.”
    â€œWhich mine?”
    â€œThe Blue Lady,” he said. “This fellow I know bought a piece of it and a man named Buck Chance and I are taking him up there.”
    â€œThe Blue Lady?” she asked, taking a step back.
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œAnd you think you’ll be back in a few days?” she demanded.
    â€œFour or five at the most.”
    â€œYou think I’m gonna believe that, Clint Adams?”
    â€œShannon…what are you talking about?”
    â€œYeah, like you don’t know.”
    â€œI really don’t—”
    â€œRight,” she said. “Look, I’ve got work to do. You enjoy your visit to the Blue Lady