whiskey. Taking on the airs of the rich?
"The pain's down to a dull roar." Dietz shifted in his chair to emphasize the point.
Waters laughed. "That so. Whiskey? It ought to take that roar right away." He poured without waiting for an answer.
Dietz was in no mood for doing any verbal dancing with Waters. "You called me in for a reason?"
Waters looked solemn and almost too pained. "I did, my friend."
My friend, hell, Dietz thought. Smile pleasantly. His face ached from the forced effort of the charade.
Waters inhaled like he was about to speak, then paused. For effect? "I wanted to talk to you in private. I heard some disturbing rumors last night."
"That so?" Dietz's heart bounded around in his rib cage like an exuberant puppy, too rash and frolicking to mean any good. Had someone from Butte come to town and warned Waters of Dietz's true identity? Had someone recognized him? If so, would Waters call him in privately? Dietz didn't think so. More likely Waters would opt for a public party. Still, Dietz sat on guard, weighing his options, contemplating lies and escape. "What about?"
"A price on Miss Byrne's head?"
Dietz would have sputtered into his glass if he'd had possession of it yet. "Keely?"
"You're rightfully shocked." Waters shook his head and clucked his tongue. "She's a sweet, well-intentioned lass."
"By whom?"
"Word is that the Clan-na-Gael has a contract on her. Who hired them, we can only surmise."
Arrogant bastard! Clan-na-Gael, the Irish crime gang. Even a rumor that they were involved was worth heeding. McCullough belonged to the Clan-na-Gael and was only considered a lesser evil by those in the know. McCullough would have heard of any rumors, but Dietz was not McCullough. He had to bluff. "I've heard no rumors."
Waters' true nature emerged with the smile that spread across his face, the power hungry, egotistical son of a bitch. "You would if they wanted you to."
"And why wouldn't they?"
"They are now, which, I assume, is why they let the rumor fly. And because you're one of their own, they're giving you an out, McCullough."
Dietz cocked his head. Just what game did Waters play? "How so?"
"I've heard it said that they'd never hit McCullough's wife."
Dietz thumped back in his chair trying hard to keep the astonishment from his face. "You're implying that I marry Miss Byrne. Isn't that what I meant to do by coming here?"
"Very slowly, my friend. Too slowly for their tastes, and those of the men who hired them." Waters cleared his throat. "There's some who are beginning to think that McCullough's got cold feet."
"And if he does?"
Waters shrugged. "Too bad for Miss Byrne, I suppose."
Dietz cursed mentally but tried to mask his outward expression and sound light and easy. "Look, what should she matter to them? What kind of a threat could she be?"
"She's been mucking around in union business."
"You mean like out at the old miner's last night?" Dietz fought hard to effect a scoff and keep the fear and frustration from his voice. "That's innocent, womanish meddling. Petty, insignificant."
"There's some who fear Miss Byrne is turning turncoat like her brother did shortly before his death."
"Mick Byrne?" A new fear burned in Dietz. Had the Clan been responsible for Michael Byrne's death? Was Keely right in thinking that someone was to blame, that Michael had been murdered? And was she merely misguided as to the source?
Waters laughed. "I'd heard the two of you were somewhat estranged shortly before he died. Judging from your shocked expression I guess he didn't tell you how he was suddenly for compromise, what we call giving up the fight and kowtowing to the owners." Waters picked up his whiskey and took a gulp. "Mick had plenty of friends. Guess some feel that his sister could influence them. The last thing the union needs so close to our final victory is to be divided. The owners are powerful, too strong a foe to be easily dismissed or to fight with an army not of one mind. Civil insurrection
"The pain's down to a dull roar." Dietz shifted in his chair to emphasize the point.
Waters laughed. "That so. Whiskey? It ought to take that roar right away." He poured without waiting for an answer.
Dietz was in no mood for doing any verbal dancing with Waters. "You called me in for a reason?"
Waters looked solemn and almost too pained. "I did, my friend."
My friend, hell, Dietz thought. Smile pleasantly. His face ached from the forced effort of the charade.
Waters inhaled like he was about to speak, then paused. For effect? "I wanted to talk to you in private. I heard some disturbing rumors last night."
"That so?" Dietz's heart bounded around in his rib cage like an exuberant puppy, too rash and frolicking to mean any good. Had someone from Butte come to town and warned Waters of Dietz's true identity? Had someone recognized him? If so, would Waters call him in privately? Dietz didn't think so. More likely Waters would opt for a public party. Still, Dietz sat on guard, weighing his options, contemplating lies and escape. "What about?"
"A price on Miss Byrne's head?"
Dietz would have sputtered into his glass if he'd had possession of it yet. "Keely?"
"You're rightfully shocked." Waters shook his head and clucked his tongue. "She's a sweet, well-intentioned lass."
"By whom?"
"Word is that the Clan-na-Gael has a contract on her. Who hired them, we can only surmise."
Arrogant bastard! Clan-na-Gael, the Irish crime gang. Even a rumor that they were involved was worth heeding. McCullough belonged to the Clan-na-Gael and was only considered a lesser evil by those in the know. McCullough would have heard of any rumors, but Dietz was not McCullough. He had to bluff. "I've heard no rumors."
Waters' true nature emerged with the smile that spread across his face, the power hungry, egotistical son of a bitch. "You would if they wanted you to."
"And why wouldn't they?"
"They are now, which, I assume, is why they let the rumor fly. And because you're one of their own, they're giving you an out, McCullough."
Dietz cocked his head. Just what game did Waters play? "How so?"
"I've heard it said that they'd never hit McCullough's wife."
Dietz thumped back in his chair trying hard to keep the astonishment from his face. "You're implying that I marry Miss Byrne. Isn't that what I meant to do by coming here?"
"Very slowly, my friend. Too slowly for their tastes, and those of the men who hired them." Waters cleared his throat. "There's some who are beginning to think that McCullough's got cold feet."
"And if he does?"
Waters shrugged. "Too bad for Miss Byrne, I suppose."
Dietz cursed mentally but tried to mask his outward expression and sound light and easy. "Look, what should she matter to them? What kind of a threat could she be?"
"She's been mucking around in union business."
"You mean like out at the old miner's last night?" Dietz fought hard to effect a scoff and keep the fear and frustration from his voice. "That's innocent, womanish meddling. Petty, insignificant."
"There's some who fear Miss Byrne is turning turncoat like her brother did shortly before his death."
"Mick Byrne?" A new fear burned in Dietz. Had the Clan been responsible for Michael Byrne's death? Was Keely right in thinking that someone was to blame, that Michael had been murdered? And was she merely misguided as to the source?
Waters laughed. "I'd heard the two of you were somewhat estranged shortly before he died. Judging from your shocked expression I guess he didn't tell you how he was suddenly for compromise, what we call giving up the fight and kowtowing to the owners." Waters picked up his whiskey and took a gulp. "Mick had plenty of friends. Guess some feel that his sister could influence them. The last thing the union needs so close to our final victory is to be divided. The owners are powerful, too strong a foe to be easily dismissed or to fight with an army not of one mind. Civil insurrection
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