Pariah by J. R. Roberts

talk about you, Clint Adams,” Mary said as the tip of her cigar flared up. “I hear things from lawmen and hired guns as well. All kinds of things.”
    â€œI bet you do. Tell me what you’ve heard about prisoners and slaves.”
    Nodding toward Lylah, she muttered, “Why you not ask her?”
    â€œBecause she wouldn’t understand. I’m asking you now, so why don’t you tell me.”
    Leaning forward with one elbow propped against her knee, Mary waved her cigar at Clint until it got close enough for him to feel the heat from its tip. “You don’t tell me what to do. I can call in enough men to cut the Gunsmith down to size before you get to that fancy gun of yours!”
    Surprised by the fire in the older woman’s eyes, Clint held up his hands to assure her they were nowhere near his holster. “No offense meant.”
    She looked Clint up and down as if she were fitting him for a coffin. “Maybe you hear of a man named Kyle Morrow.”
    â€œMaybe I have.”
    â€œThen you know he kidnap women and sell them off after robbing from their men. He also works with slavers who bring girls like that one there into this country.”
    Clint looked over to Lylah and saw the sorrowful look in her eyes. Even if she didn’t know all that was being said, she’d obviously caught enough to get the gist of the conversation.
    â€œYou’re expecting trouble from Kyle Morrow?” Clint asked.
    â€œI been getting trouble from him for months. It get worse when his merchandise disappear without being paid for. That one there,” she added while waving at Lylah, “she run away after I refuse to buy her, so Morrow think I stole her to work in one of my whorehouse. Since then, nothing but trouble from him.”
    â€œHow did she get away?”
    â€œHelp from white lady.”
    â€œMadeline Gentry?” Clint asked.
    Mary nodded. When she spoke again, there was no longer the edge in her voice that had been there a few moments ago. “Maddy help a lot of girls get away from here. Usually, she take them after they been here for a while so people think they run away on their own. This time, she took that one while Morrow was still in town. Too soon.”
    â€œHer name’s Lylah.”
    â€œWhat?” Mary snapped.
    â€œThat one there. Her name’s Lylah.”
    â€œThey all have name, Mister Adams. I don’t remember them until they’ve been here long enough. That one was supposed to work for me, but she only eat my food, drink my water, and hide in my place of business. I was glad to be rid of her, but you bring her back.”
    â€œFunny. You two seemed happy to see each other at first.”
    Mary flinched as if she’d been caught in a bluff. After a heavy sigh, she slipped right back into her prickly demeanor. “I hoped she could get away before she was killed. I thought she would know to stay away.”
    â€œMaddy is the one in trouble. Is she still here?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDo you know where I can find her?” Clint asked.
    Grudgingly, Mary got up and worked the lock on the door. “Probably best if I take you to her.”

TWENTY-TWO
    Clint stood in the cemetery, looking down at the unmarked pile of freshly turned soil, and still couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Actually, he didn’t want to believe the sight in front of him. Lylah had started crying the moment she realized where Mary was taking them. Clint had waited until the last possible moment, hoping that he might find Maddy huddled in a shack somewhere on the property.
    â€œWhat happened?” he asked.
    Still working on the last bit of her cigar, Mary replied, “Kyle Morrow. He killed her, along with some of my people, when he couldn’t find that one over there and a few others. My people didn’t know where that one went, but Maddy knew. Still, she no say anything.”
    When he tried to get a read on Mary,