Pariah by J. R. Roberts Page B

you cannot find all the men like Kyle Morrow. Nobody can.”
    â€œIf I didn’t know better, I might think you’re trying to keep someone else from being hurt.”
    Mary grunted something in Chinese that Clint recognized as not too flattering. Then she told him, “I don’t know you. I do know Kyle Morrow. I can deal with him or keep him away if I want. If someone else take his place, I have to start all over again.”
    â€œWhat if there is no one to take his place?”
    â€œYou really believe that?” she asked with a worldly grin.
    Grudgingly, Clint admitted, “Maybe not, but this one will only get worse if he thinks he can get away with killing an innocent woman. There might be a protege, but they should be taught that same lesson by watching what happens to Morrow.”
    Mary crossed her arms and nodded as if she’d finally decided on what color rug to put in her opium den. “That make sense. I still don’t know where to find him, but she does.”
    Clint looked over to where Mary had nodded and found Lylah silently staring down at Maddy’s grave. “Can you help me figure out what she’s saying?”
    â€œI don’t think I could make her understand your question, but I do know someone who can.” She shook her head slowly. “You might want to ask around for someone else, though. Mongolians not as friendly as me.”

TWENTY-THREE
    Apart from what he’d read in a few ancient history books, Clint wasn’t too familiar with Mongolians. He could have met a few here and there while traveling from one spot to another, but he didn’t keep track of where they lived or who might be able to translate their language. Since Maddy’s killer was probably still not too far away, Clint wanted to act fast before the trail got any colder.
    According to Mary, the translator he should talk to lived in a camp up in the Whetstone Mountains. That wasn’t more than fifteen or twenty miles away, so he figured he could take a bit of time and do some more asking around Tombstone. He was on good terms with the Earp brothers, but they weren’t the law in town any longer. There was one man who might just be a bigger help to Clint than any lawman. If anyone was to know the whereabouts of an outlaw like Kyle Morrow, it was a bounty hunter. And in Cochise County, there weren’t many bounty hunters who knew their trade better than Eddie Sanchez.
    If he was in Tombstone, Eddie could be found in a rented room on the second floor of a rat trap on Fifth Street. When Clint arrived at the run-down little boardinghouse, he asked the redheaded man behind the front desk if Eddie was available.
    â€œYeah,” the redhead told him as he plastered his eyes onto Lylah. “He’s here.”
    Before the redhead could drool or reach out to grab her, Clint pulled Lylah closer to him and asked, “Which room is he in?”
    â€œSame as always. If you want yer own room, I got one open.”
    â€œNo, thanks.”
    As Clint walked toward the stairs, the redhead asked, “You wanna send her my way when you’re through?”
    Clint stopped and glared at the redhead in a way that made it clear just how far he’d stepped in the wrong direction. Without saying another word, the redhead looked away and found something else to do.
    â€œDon’t mind that,” Clint said as he took Lylah with him. She might not have understood what he muttered, but he could tell that she knew what the redhead was after without being told.
    Eddie’s usual room was at the end of the hall on the second floor, overlooking the street. Before Clint could knock upon the door, it was opened. A full-figured woman with stringy brown hair emerged from the room while adjusting her large breasts within her partially buttoned blouse. She smirked at Clint, sneered at Lylah, and headed for the stairs.
    â€œHello, Eddie,” Clint said as he stepped inside.
    The