Felicia Andrews Read online

  "Amanda, we have to talk. "

  She kept her eyes straight ahead. "I have nothing to say."

  "Well, I do, damn it!" He pushed his mount slightly ahead of hers so that he could see her face. "I heard about what you did last night, Amanda. I heard about your lawyer and your staying with Mitchell. Do you know what the hell you're doing to yourself by siding with a murderer?"

  She yanked hard on the reins, and Wind snorted a protest as he stopped. Eagleton turned his own horse around and faced her squarely, his eyes cold and his mouth set.

  "What makes you so sure Douglas killed those women?" she demanded, though she kept her voice low. "The way I hear it, it was Menoz who stabbed Diane, and Doug shot her because she tried to kill him. Self-defense, as simple as that. "

  "Not so simple, Amanda, " Eagleton said. "There's a witness--"

  "I know about Jones," she told him, urging Wind into a quick canter. "By the time Lions gets through with him, we'll find out soon enough who put him up to it. "

  "You're pretty confident of that," he said.

  It was several minutes before she was able to speak clearly again. "Trevor," she said, her voice hinting at a trembling, "I don't know what you've been doing to me, but I'm not going to have it done any longer. " She glanced over at him; he was smiling. "You don't seem particularly disappointed. "

  "Should I be?"

  She shook her head slowly. "No, I guess not. I guess it's been a game right from the beginning. "

  "Not a game, " he told her. "I don't play games, Amanda. I never have. Games are for children. "

  She wanted to race away from him, to escape the inexplicable and overwhelming feeling of sadness that swept her under, dulling the still cloudy sky further. She could not stand to have him so near. Temptation to succumb was no longer a possibility, but when she glanced down at her hands, they were twisting the reins tautly between her fingers until her knuckles were bled white.

  When at last the trees fell away to the first of the small farms on the outskirts of town, she slowed. "I would rather ride in alone, if you don't mind."

  He nodded and tipped his hat. "Amanda, I think you were destined to do everything alone. "

  "You didn't think so in San Francisco," she told him bitterly.

  He glanced at her quickly, looked away, and stared at the road ahead. "Advice, " he said then. "I shouldn't do this, but I would like to give you some advice, Amanda."

  "Talk, as they say, is cheap. Talk all you want. I don't have to listen. "

  "And what do you do instead?" he asked her, the mocking tone in his voice a clear ring of danger. "Do you use those magical powers of yours?"

  She smiled at him sweetly. "If I have to." And she was startled to see the unsettled look that crossed his face and was gone, almost as though it hadn't been.

  "Were I you-"

  "And you're not."

  "--I would stay clear of this trouble, Amanda. You have a lot to lose, and I wouldn't want to see you getting hurt."

  She bit gently on her lower lip. "In case you hadn't noticed, Trevor, you've done quite a bit of hurting already. I'm getting used to it. "

  "Now that doesn't sound like you at all. Being defeatist is something I thought you never would be. "

  "Then you don't have to sound s o happy about it. "

  "Was I?" He smiled. "Then I apologize. " The smile faded.

  "Amanda, I'm serious. Hire all the lawyers you want to for Mitchell, and pay for every bill if you have to, but don't get involved any deeper than you already are. Believe me, you won't like the consequences."

  They had both stopped without realizing it, and Eagleton was leaning toward her with a serious, earnest expression which she noted touched all of his features except his eyes--they were coldly examining her, as though testing for faults.

  She waited to see if he would say anything more, then looked pointedly at the first building on the curve that marked the beginning of town. She could not stop herself from focusing for a moment on the mouth of the alley where Carla had fallen, but her gaze wrenched away when she heard Eagleton sigh.

  "We could have been nice, you know," he said.

  "Not as long as you thought of me as a piece of property, Trevor, " she corrected him. "Something to be visited now and then to see if it's still there. Like your Mr. Wilder and the Circle B. No. If there was anything-and I admit to once believing there could have been-it's dead. And as long as you're listening, you might as well know that I do not, now or ever, take kindly to threats. "

  "Was I threatening you?" he asked innocently.

  She did not know how she kept her hand away from the knife nestled in her boot.

  "I have a prediction," he said then, lifting his head momentarily so that his neck was drawn taut. "If you don't mind me borrowing some of your marvelous powers, my dear, I think that you'll discover what problems you've had, those you've told me about, are going to get worse before they get better. "

  "Unless?"

  He lowered his gaze. "No, Amanda. There's no 'unless '. "

  The chill that had been stalking her heart settled like lead in the pit of her stomach.

  Eagleton then adjusted his hat unnecessarily and settled himself into a riding stance. "Amanda, I've heard the children today. It's funny how such simple little minds will pick up on such simple little things. "

  "Such as?"

  He smiled briefly, and there was no mirth in his eyes.

  ''Trevor?"

  "Well," he said, as though reluctant to pass on what he had heard. "Well, for some reason many of them-at least those urchins who insist on playing in the streets-they seem to be delighting in calling you names. " He paused.

  "Damn it, Trevor," she said harshly. "If you're going to tell me, then do it! If you're not, then keep it to yourself and move on. "

  "Moonwitch, " he said. "Curious . ''

  She wanted to smile but sensed this was not the time.

  "Moon witch," he repeated as though the word meant nothing, a nonsense word born of games and children's empty minds. 'That, I think, is what it is. " He looked at her steadily, then away. "But if you will notice, my dear Amanda, it's daylight now, it's nowhere near evening. "

  "And if you will notice, Trevor, there are too many clouds to let the sun through. "

  Again the look, steady and unreadable, though she received an impression that he wanted to speak. But he said nothing at the last, only nodded once in farewell and kicked his horse abruptly into a full-tilt gallop that soon had him hidden behind a shifting cloud of pale yellow dust.

  Though her legs tensed and Wind tossed his head in confusion, she did not give him chase. She could not. Rather she examined herself and her suddenly quiescent emotions for signs of mortal injury, for signs of impending agony . . . and she wondered why she was not pleased that she could find nothing wrong.

  To her left a large hawk and a smaller bird chased each other in and out of a narrow grove of trees. There was no sound from the battle, and though the smaller bird was too obviously outclassed, it was apparent that he was gaining the upper hand over the marauder. Within moments the hawk gave -up and sailed arrogantly on an updraft into the sky where it glided and hovered, waiting and watching.

  Amanda's expression did not change after the hawk had been driven off. She could only let her mind run back through her conversation with Eagleton . And as she clucked Wind into a slow trot, she realized that the entire scene, however telling and melodramatic it had been, had also been one that was highly anticlimactic. Whatever weapon had killed the freshness, the almost loving, the gentle and searching touching that had once been between them . . . whatever weapon it was, whether distance or uncertain knowledge, had struck some months ago, perhaps even the very day she had left California.

  And perhaps, she considered with a coldness that frightened her, perhaps it had been her unreasoning anger at what she assumed was Doug's pigheadedness and refusal to admit his feelings for her that had blinded her to whatever it was Trevor had been
doing.

  To what Trevor obviously was doing-coldly, cautiously, with precise calculation.

  How far did his manipulations go then, she wondered. How far? For how long?

  And, more importantly . . . why?

  TWENTY-SIX

  At any other time riding down Main Street would have provoked little, if any, reaction. Amanda noticed, however, that as she approached the sheriffs office, heads turned covertly in her direction, were placed together to share some commentary or other behind hands that were raised to provide an inadequate barrier. Or, she thought sardonically, it was all her imagination. Nothing else seemed out of place. Wagons, horses, pedestrians, dogs, children . . . all commonplace, with nothing out of the ordinary. It could have been nothing less, and nothing more, than a perfectly normal day, with perhaps a few lingering hangovers from the celebration of the holiday.

  She hitched Wind to the post in front of the office and dropped lightly to the ground. A quick survey of the street did not give her a glimpse of Trevor, nor a clue to his whereabouts. She shrugged, gave Wind a quick stroking along his neck and a whispering comfort, and pushed through the door.

  Cole Anders--all six feet and a good three hundred pounds of him-was slumped behind the desk, a deck of cards scattered over the top. Scowling and scratching idly at his chest, he did not notice her until she cleared her throat and grinned. Then he leaped to his feet, his knees slamming against the desk and knocking several of the boards onto the floor. Muttering to himself and grinning inanely, he stooped to snatch up the litter.

  "Can I see him?" she asked.

  "Go ahead," he said with a careless wave.

  At the cell-block's threshold she stopped and turned around. "Cole?"

  "Huh?"

  "Do you . . . I mean, have you been . . . that is--"

  From behind a thatch of surly black beard and moustache he smiled gently, like a bear that has decided to spare his latest victim. "No, ma'am, I don't think he done it the way they said he did. And no, ma'am, I ain't had a chance to ask no questions to anybody 'cause the mayor, he wants me here all the time . " He scowled and glared at the still open door. "Whole town's goin' to hell in a hand basket, and the mayor he don't want me to leave."

  Amanda frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "Oh, you know. Fights. Drunks. Guys ridin' up and down like it was still the Fourth of July. Ain't no one out there to stop 'em. Phil, he got to get hisself some sleep, y'know. So here I am. Damn. "

  He shifted a great wad of tobacco from one cheek to the other and shot a long brown stream into a spittoon beside the desk. The brass container shook at the impact, and Amanda looked away quickly in case it tipped over.

  Doug smiled when he saw her, rising to hold her arms when she pulled open the door. ''I've been thinking, " he said before she could speak.

  "Don't, " she told him. She could read it all in the glitter that ringed the dark of his eyes, the soft way his smile broke through the weariness that had brought unnoticed lines to the angles of his face. She did not want him to say anything because she did not want anything spoiled. Later, when it was over and they were able to be alone, they would trade their regrets and their foolishness with equal passion, equal sincerity; for now, however, they had to concentrate, and already his very proximity was enough to make her blood turn warm and speed up her heart.

  "Have you talked with Tom this morning?"

  He nodded and sat on the edge of the rough bed. "Seems I'm going to be transferred. " He clasped his hands over his knees and shook his head. "Can't believe it, Amanda. I just can't believe it. After all I've done for this town, they have to take the word of a goddamned drunken saloon piano player. Incredible. " His short laugh was more a snort of disgust.

  She stood next to him, her hand stroking his hair lightly. And in spite of the promise to herself, she heard her voice saying, "When this is over, Doug, we'll-"

  "No," he interrupted. And he looked at her as if he had read her mind. "Later, all right?"

  She grinned. "All right." Then she clapped her hands together and rubbed them vigorously. "Now. What do you want me to do, huh?"

  "Tell you the truth, Amanda, 111 be damned if I know. Tom says he'll ask around, see if he can find anyone who can break Jones's story. But I know he won't. Diane is dead, Carla is dead, and there isn't anyone else around who would even . . .ah, the hell with it. The goddamned hell with it. "

  "Hey," she said softly, her face creased with concern, "don't tell me you're giving up already?"

  "No," he answered, though there was very little conviction in his voice. "No, I'm not giving up. But let's assume for a minute, Amanda, that Tom gets me off. " He looked up at her, his smile laced with bitterness. "What then, huh? After all this, do you think for one minute that Kurtz would hang onto me?" He did not wait for an answer. "Sure he won't. He's no fool. I'm just one man, and he has a whole town to worry about. Can you imagine what kind of respect I would pull around here after this?" He made a circle with thumb and forefinger. "That's how much, Amanda. And you can't have your lawman walking under a shadow. "

  She wanted desperately to argue with him, to grab his shoulders and shake him out of the numbing lethargy his predicament had plunged him into, but she knew without more than a moment's thought that he was right. No matter what happened in the next few days, over the next two or three weeks, Doug Mitchell would be finished in Coreville.

  "I swear to you, Doug, " she whispered, "I'll kill the man who did this to you . "

  "No you won't, " he said flatly. "You1l raise a lot o f hell, but you won't kill anyone. "

  A brief surge of anger stiffened her, and she moved to stand in front of him. "Look at me, " she ordered. When he did not, she grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled until his gaze met hers. That s better.

  "Amanda, I know what you're trying to do, but it-"

  She released him and knelt before him, her hands tight on his knees. "Don't say anything more, Douglas Mitchell, or I'll be forced to hex you. "

  He smiled after a moment, and she saw the love in his eyes turn briefly to sorrow.

  "Don't tell me, " she said, "what I am going to do and what I am not. You don't know me, Doug, not as well as you think. You don't know all that I've had to do to get where I am, and you don't know what I've been forced to do just to stay alive. If I say I'm going to kill someone, don't you dare disbelieve. "

  He stared at her for a minute that seemed to stretch into a year, while voices broke through the silence and filled the outer office. "You know something?" he said finally. "You know, I never really saw how much of a woman you are. "

  "Being a woman has nothing to do with it," she snapped. ''I'm someone who has to do what she has to do. I've never once backed down from anything that was between what I had and what I wanted. "

  He leaned away from her, his look searching. "You're right," he said. "I don't think I know you at all . "

  Amanda would have responded, but the voices finally became too loud for her to ignore. Her initial reaction was to think a lynch mob had formed, her second that Cole was decidedly unhappy about whoever had come in. With a look to Doug to keep him seated, she left the cell and walked to the front.

  Trevor was standing confidently in front of Doug's desk, and Cole Anders was angrily slapping his cards into a ragged pile.

  "What's the problem?" she asked, pointedly ignoring Eagleton's slight bow.

  "Ask him , " Cole growled. "I don't work here no more."

  "What? Why not?"

  " 'Cause I done just quit, that's why, " he said, nearly shouting, and stormed out of the office, slamming the door so hard it bounced back open.

  "Trevor, what's this all about?"

  Eagleton walked slowly around the far side of the desk, one finger dusting the top and wiping itself against his black frock jacket. Then, with a slow flourish as he held her annoyed stare, he pulled back the lapel, and she saw the silver badge.

  "I don't believe it. "

  "The mayor understands poli
tics, Amanda. That's something you never will. "

  She looked fearfully toward Doug's cell.

  "Don't you worry about him," he said, pulling the key ring off its wall peg. "He'll be here any time you want to visit. Seems the circuit judge won't be in Cheyenne for at least a week. " He tipped his hat to her in dismissal. "Have a good day, Mrs. Munroe."

  Less than five minutes later she was pounding on the bell on the hotel's front desk. When no one responded, she spun around frantically, trying to contain her rage. She checked both saloons, the newspaper office, and the bank. Everywhere she walked, her face tight and her arms swinging as though they held clubs, people moved out of her way.