Slocum and the Grizzly Flats Killers (9781101619216) by Jake Logan Page A

small.”
    â€œNot like with Judge Holbein.”
    She smiled at that, one corner of her mouth turning up a little more. She had delightful dimples, but Slocum’s resolve didn’t weaken.
    â€œHe could order them run out of the county, but I want them punished.”
    â€œI won’t gun them down in cold blood.”
    â€œFind them. Drag them back here. I’ll take care of the rest.”
    Slocum considered the situation. He wasn’t getting anywhere hunting for the men who killed Isaac Comstock and the rest of his treasure hunting party. And he had no idea where to start in town looking for them, if they were also the ones who had busted him up.
    â€œI’ll sweeten the deal.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œYour debt to me for freeing you from jail will be erased,” Madeleine said. “I can also tell you about the men who abducted you after Eckerly’s funeral.”
    Slocum wondered if she had read his thoughts.
    â€œIt’s a deal,” he said.
    â€œDeal,” she agreed. Then she smiled devilishly and added, “Then we can see about other . . . arrangements.” She patted his crotch, then stood and walked across the sitting room, her bustle moving in an enticing bump and grind. At the stairs, one foot on the lowest step, she turned and said, “You can go now, Mr. Slocum.”
    He went.

9
    Slocum went into the Damned Shame around noon, after spending some time with Mirabelle, quieting her nerves and convincing her he hadn’t shot his way out of jail. She had returned to the jailhouse to find him gone. Somehow, she had missed how angry Willingham was over losing his prisoner. If he had managed to kill Slocum, he would have been happier.
    â€œHeard you was locked up, Slocum,” Beefsteak Malone said. “How’d you get out so quick?”
    â€œRaised bail,” Slocum said. “Or raised hell. Hard to tell which. Never figured out why the marshal threw me in the pokey.”
    â€œWill can be a nervy sort of fellow,” Malone said. “I’m surprised he let you out.”
    Slocum shrugged it off. He had other fish to fry, but he had to ask, “Why’s he got it in for me? I ought to have been given a reward, not jail time.”
    â€œWill and Madam Madeleine aren’t on the best of terms,” Malone said. “Might be he thought you two was hangin’ out together. He can’t do much about her, but anyone carousin’ with her is fair game.”
    â€œCould be,” Slocum said. “It’s passing strange, though, the way he’s trying to frame me for a crime I busted up and kept from happening.”
    â€œYou keep the peace inside these here four walls, Slocum,” the bar owner said harshly. “Don’t go stickin’ your nose where it don’t belong.”
    â€œIn Madam Madeleine’s business?”
    For an instant, Slocum thought the barkeep was going to erupt in rage. The red tide rising in his face subsided and Malone laughed insincerely.
    â€œYou got a real sense of humor, I’ll grant you that, Slocum. That’s why you keep fights from gettin’ too bad. Time for you to get to work.” Malone pointed to a pair of men at the table near the door, where the trouble had begun last night.
    The pair traced their fingers over the sketch on the uncleaned tabletop where Madam Madeleine’s would-be robbers had plotted and planned their inept crime. Slocum went over, pulled up a chair, and sat with his back to the bar.
    â€œHowdy,” he said.
    â€œWe don’t want company,” the more belligerent of the two said. “This is a private argument.”
    â€œDon’t care. Bust each other up all you want. If you tell me what I want to know, I’ll even buy you a couple drinks.”
    â€œTo keep me from knockin’ this mangy cayuse’s teeth down his throat?” The man on Slocum’s left half stood, only to be slammed facedown on