right he was killed, and it wasn’t right the way he was killed.”
“I know.”
“But you know what I think?” she asked.
“No, Auntie,” he said, “I don’t know what you think.”
“I think maybe you lookin’ in the wrong place,” she said. “I think you lettin’ certain reputations taint your thinkin’.” She pointed a finger at him. “And you know about reputations, huh?”
He knew she’d recognized his name when they first met.
“I know,” he said. “Are you telling me neither of them killed the doctor? And if you’re telling me that, do you know who did?”
“I don’t know nothin’ about no murder,” she said. “I’m just sayin’ be careful how you think and where you look. These are rough boys, and even if they didn’t kill that doctor, if they hear you’re lookin’ for them, you’ll have to deal with them.”
“Okay,” he said, “I’ll accept that. You pass the word that I’m looking for them.”
“I can do that,” she said, “but my girl, Josephina, gon’ be real mad at me if I get you killed.”
“Don’t worry about that, Auntie,” he said. “I’m not going to get killed.”
“Uh-huh. Which of them boys you wanna see first? ’Cause you don’t wanna see them together.”
“Either way,” Clint said. “I just want to see them. If they didn’t have anything to do with killing the doctor, all they’ve got to do is tell me.”
“Like I said,” she told him, “those boys don’t talk.”
“Will you give them my message?”
She sat back and looked unconcerned.
“If they happen to come in here to eat,” she said, “I guess I could mention somethin’ about it.”
THIRTY-FIVE
Rufus found Franco sitting at a back table in a small cantina filled with dockworkers. They all steered clear of the man, and did the same with Rufus as he crossed the room. It was the size of Rufus that deterred most men, but with Franco it was more than mere size. For one thing, he was not even six feet tall, but anyone who looked into his eyes knew they were looking at a killer. In point of fact, Franco was feared much more than Rufus was.
But Rufus had no problem approaching Franco. He was used to that dead-eye stare the other man gave everyone. He pulled out a chair and sat opposite the killer.
“Auntie told me you were lookin’ for me,” Franco said, his English only slightly accented. He had spent a lot of time north of the border, but he preferred the confines of his own country. “I do not like to stay in one place for too long, so speak quickly.”
Rufus wanted to tell Franco to try that stare on someone else, but decided not to.
“I have a job for you,” Rufus said.
“You have a job for me?” Franco asked with interest. “We usually do jobs together. Or you do your own alone. Why would you need to hire me?”
“It’s not me,” Rufus said, “it’s my woman.”
“The ugly gringa with all the money?” Franco asked. “The one with the dead doctor husband?”
“Yes.”
“She has money?”
“Lots of money.”
“And who does she want killed?”
“She wants a couple of people killed,” Rufus said, “but one of them is Clint Adams.”
“Clint Adams?” Now Franco was real interested. “You mean the Gunsmith?”
“Yeah.”
“What is he doing in Veracruz?”
“Well, right now he’s makin’ my woman mad enough to want him killed.”
“Who else?”
“The lady doctor who has taken over her husband’s office.”
“Is she taking care of his patients?”
“Yeah,” Rufus said. “The sheriff asked her.”
“Who will take care of them if I kill her?” Franco asked.
“Why does that matter?” the big man asked.
“It doesn’t,” Franco said, “but I am curious.”
“She doesn’t care,” Rufus said. “Neither do I, and you shouldn’t either.”
“Will I be paid enough not to care?”
“You’ll be paid plenty,” Rufus said, “and any help you need will be paid, too.”
“Help?”
“The woman has a deputy
“I know.”
“But you know what I think?” she asked.
“No, Auntie,” he said, “I don’t know what you think.”
“I think maybe you lookin’ in the wrong place,” she said. “I think you lettin’ certain reputations taint your thinkin’.” She pointed a finger at him. “And you know about reputations, huh?”
He knew she’d recognized his name when they first met.
“I know,” he said. “Are you telling me neither of them killed the doctor? And if you’re telling me that, do you know who did?”
“I don’t know nothin’ about no murder,” she said. “I’m just sayin’ be careful how you think and where you look. These are rough boys, and even if they didn’t kill that doctor, if they hear you’re lookin’ for them, you’ll have to deal with them.”
“Okay,” he said, “I’ll accept that. You pass the word that I’m looking for them.”
“I can do that,” she said, “but my girl, Josephina, gon’ be real mad at me if I get you killed.”
“Don’t worry about that, Auntie,” he said. “I’m not going to get killed.”
“Uh-huh. Which of them boys you wanna see first? ’Cause you don’t wanna see them together.”
“Either way,” Clint said. “I just want to see them. If they didn’t have anything to do with killing the doctor, all they’ve got to do is tell me.”
“Like I said,” she told him, “those boys don’t talk.”
“Will you give them my message?”
She sat back and looked unconcerned.
“If they happen to come in here to eat,” she said, “I guess I could mention somethin’ about it.”
THIRTY-FIVE
Rufus found Franco sitting at a back table in a small cantina filled with dockworkers. They all steered clear of the man, and did the same with Rufus as he crossed the room. It was the size of Rufus that deterred most men, but with Franco it was more than mere size. For one thing, he was not even six feet tall, but anyone who looked into his eyes knew they were looking at a killer. In point of fact, Franco was feared much more than Rufus was.
But Rufus had no problem approaching Franco. He was used to that dead-eye stare the other man gave everyone. He pulled out a chair and sat opposite the killer.
“Auntie told me you were lookin’ for me,” Franco said, his English only slightly accented. He had spent a lot of time north of the border, but he preferred the confines of his own country. “I do not like to stay in one place for too long, so speak quickly.”
Rufus wanted to tell Franco to try that stare on someone else, but decided not to.
“I have a job for you,” Rufus said.
“You have a job for me?” Franco asked with interest. “We usually do jobs together. Or you do your own alone. Why would you need to hire me?”
“It’s not me,” Rufus said, “it’s my woman.”
“The ugly gringa with all the money?” Franco asked. “The one with the dead doctor husband?”
“Yes.”
“She has money?”
“Lots of money.”
“And who does she want killed?”
“She wants a couple of people killed,” Rufus said, “but one of them is Clint Adams.”
“Clint Adams?” Now Franco was real interested. “You mean the Gunsmith?”
“Yeah.”
“What is he doing in Veracruz?”
“Well, right now he’s makin’ my woman mad enough to want him killed.”
“Who else?”
“The lady doctor who has taken over her husband’s office.”
“Is she taking care of his patients?”
“Yeah,” Rufus said. “The sheriff asked her.”
“Who will take care of them if I kill her?” Franco asked.
“Why does that matter?” the big man asked.
“It doesn’t,” Franco said, “but I am curious.”
“She doesn’t care,” Rufus said. “Neither do I, and you shouldn’t either.”
“Will I be paid enough not to care?”
“You’ll be paid plenty,” Rufus said, “and any help you need will be paid, too.”
“Help?”
“The woman has a deputy
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