Sarah barely moved her hand. Now the shards were all making contact with his face. Several drops of blood fell from fresh puncture marks on his nose and forehead as Sarah coolly stared at him.

  “You’d never make it out the door,” the sheriff calmly told her. He arrogantly pushed aside the shards of glass poking his face and wiped his bloody cheek with the back of a hand. “They’re under orders to shoot to kill if I don’t make it back outta here. You’re good, darlin’. There ain’t nobody that can say otherwise. However, you ain’t that good. Now release me.”

  The glass fell to the ground and shattered into even smaller pieces.

  “Let’s be honest with each other,” Sarah began, keeping her expression neutral. “It’s obvious you’re going to kill me. There’s no way you’d let me live, especially if I do the things you want me to do. My husband isn’t here, and there’s no one to rescue me. Therefore, since I’m going to die anyway, I choose not to cooperate.”

  “You’re right,” the sheriff confessed. “Without leverage I don’t expect you to cooperate. If you want to be all noble, darlin’, that’s up to you. I suspect you’d willingly sacrifice yourself in order to protect the people you love. I can respect that. However, I don’t see you actin’ too brave when it comes to your own husband’s life. I don’t have Luther or his wife in my possession. Yet. But I will soon. Tonight, in fact. Then you’ll see. Oh, yes, you’ll see. I’ll put a bullet between Luther’s eyes myself if I have to. By heaven you will help me retire.”

  Sarah adopted a bored attitude. “You expect me to believe you’re going after the Millers? Tonight? There’s no way you’re going to be able to convince your men to return to the manor. Haunted houses have a way of doing that to people.”

  “You scared them good, there ain’t no doubt about it,” the sheriff agreed. He chuckled. “All the more reason to prove to ‘em that there ain’t nuthin’ there to be afraid of.”

  His prisoner stared at him for a few moments in silence.

  “You’re Lentarian. Why are you doing this? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

  “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do to survive in this world, darlin’,” Sheriff Bixby drawled.

  “I can get us all back to Lentari. Don’t you understand? You could go home! Don’t you want to see your family again?”

  “My family thinks I am a useless waste of skin,” the sheriff snarled. “My father thought I’d never amount to anything. Well, look how wrong he was. I am sheriff of this hodunk little town. I run it. I can do what I want, when I want. How’s that for having no career prospects?”

  The sheriff’s face softened. He then surprised her by sitting next to her on the cot.

  “Look, perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. I think we can and should be friends.”

  “You just threatened my husband’s very existence and you think the two of us can be friends?” Sarah incredulously asked.

  “To prove my sincerity,” the sheriff continued, ignoring Sarah’s outburst, “what would you say to an evening out on the town?”

  Sarah blinked her eyes and cocked her head at him. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. I say we go to town tonight. That way you can see my intentions are noble.”

  “You don’t have a noble cell in your body,” Sarah heatedly countered.

  “Let me rephrase that,” Sheriff Bixby smoothly added. “I’m going to town tonight. So are you. I very much would like it if you did so of your own free will. Or, you can be trussed up like a wild animal. It’s your call.”

  “This is how you treat your friends?” Sarah asked sarcastically.

  The sheriff smiled sardonically. “Only friends that don’t see reason.”

  Sarah slowly smiled, which caused every hair on the back of the sheriff’s neck to stand on end. He smiled his own lecherous smile, slapped a hand on his knee, as though he had just had a monumental breakthrough, and rose to his feet.

  “You’ll need your strength. Can I get you a plate of food? You’ll forgive me if I don’t offer you any more chicken.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “You haven’t eaten in two days. You must be hungry. Do you still think I’d drug the food?”

  “Of course I do. You know that I do.”

  “What if I take a few bites for you?”

  “I still wouldn’t touch it,” Sarah coldly informed him.

  The sheriff gritted his teeth. This woman really knew how to get on his nerves.

  “Suit yourself. Be ready to go in an hour.”

  He had locked the door and was heading back down the mine tunnel when he heard Sarah’s parting words.

  “Go suck it.”

  An hour and a half later the sheriff and several dozen of his men rode into town. Sarah, the sheriff, Deke, and several other henchmen were riding in the double bench buckboard while everyone else rode on horseback. The townsfolk took one look at who was approaching and wisely vacated the area. Mothers ushered their children indoors, while the men anxiously stood guard in front of their shops and stores, hoping the sheriff took his business elsewhere.

  Sheriff Bixby dismounted at the start of one of the street’s two boardwalks. He indicated several of the men should stay with the wagon and the rest were allowed to do as they pleased. He, Deke, Sarah, and a contingent of a half a dozen men all leisurely strolled past the various storefronts. Every person they encountered refused to look them in the eye. All but one, however.

  “Sarah! You’re here! You’re safe!”

  Sheriff Bixby looked down his nose at the tiny middle-aged woman and scoffed loudly.

  “You may wait over there,” the sheriff told her as he pointed to the street and away from his posse.

  Rosamund Jones ignored the sheriff and rushed toward Sarah.

  “We were so worried, my dear. Let me look at you. How are you feeling? Are you well?”

  The sheriff stepped directly in front of the woman and waited for Rosamund to stop and acknowledge his presence. She didn’t. She walked right around him and continued on her way to Sarah.

  “Mrs. Jones. It’s good to see you,” Sarah said in a somewhat slurred voice.

  “What have they done to you?”

  This time Deke stepped in Rosamund’s path and pushed back the brim of his hat with his right index finger.

  “Afternoon, ma’am. Kindly step aside.”

  “I’ll do no such thing. Sarah is coming with me.”

  Deke snapped his fingers. Two burly henchmen appeared at his side.

  “Escort the lady to… I’m sorry, where should we drop you off? Where have I seen you before, ma’am?”

  Each goon had hooked a hand under Rosamund’s arms and effortlessly hoisted her into the air. Her legs continued to move, as though she thought she was still walking. One goon bent low to give her a closer inspection.

  “I’ve seen her before. She runs the Silver Spike.”

  Deke turned to look at the sheriff, who gave him a thin smile in return.

  “Well, then, we should return her to her saloon. Take her back to the Silver Spoke.”

  “Spike,” Rosamund crossly corrected.

  “Whatever.”

  The two goons nodded. They walked off, carrying Rosamund right along as though she was nothing more than a sack of flour.

  “Now, let’s enjoy our evening, shall we?”

  Sarah glared at the sheriff. Her eyes shot daggers at him. The sheriff took her arm and guided her toward a small fashion boutique.

  “I’m told women enjoy looking at this sort of nonsense,” Sheriff Bixby nonchalantly remarked. He held out an arm. “Shall we?”

  The sheriff’s arm slammed down against his side, as though it had been struck by a sledgehammer.

  “Don’t press your luck,” Sarah coldly told him. She stalked into the store as the sheriff massaged his sore arm and pulled Deke aside.

  “How much water did she drink?”

  “Almost a full cup.”

  “Did you bring more?”

  Deke pointed at a third man who was wearing a canteen strapped across his shoulders.

  “Good. Keep an eye on her. If she tries to drink anything make sure a cup of that water makes it into her hand. Got it?”

  Deke nodded. “I got it, boss.”

  The sheriff stepped across the threshold of the store and was treated to a sight of rack after rack of women’s dresses. Shabbily made dresses, he decided, as the patterns didn’t match, sleeves were uneven, and the collars of several were asymmetrical. His eyes skimmed over the racks to see where Sarah was. She was there, talking to what looked like a frightened young girl who was doing her best to edge away from the counter.

  “Just as I suspected, darlin’,” the sheriff announced. “There’s nothing here worth looking at. Let’s go.”

  Sarah pushed the door open and stepped back out onto the boardwalk. She let the door close instead of following her instincts and holding the door open for the next person to exit. Just as the sheriff approached the door it slammed closed, as though a strong gust of wind had caught the door and closed it for them. Sheriff Bixby had flinched and yanked his hand out of the way. He angrily eyed Sarah to see if she was responsible. When no response was forthcoming he chalked the unfortunate incident up to an errant gust of wind.

  The sheriff hadn’t taken five steps when he felt a small tap on the left side of his left boot. It was just strong enough to cause his left foot to hook behind his right and he fell to the boardwalk with a loud crash. His henchmen rushed to his side, hands extended, to help him back up.

  “Who did that?” the sheriff growled. He snatched his hat from the man holding it out to him and returned it to his head. “Who tripped me?”

  His knees were throbbing and his left hand stung where he had landed on it. What hurt most of all was that all his men had witnessed him tripping over his own two feet. That was not good for keeping the men’s morale in check. He cast a quick look at Sarah, who was looking disinterestedly across the street at the entrance of a saloon. Was she responsible for this? Was she only acting more drugged than she really was?

  The sheriff scowled. She needed another dose of opium soon or she’d be in danger of regaining more of her senses. He had to keep her drinking his tainted water otherwise she’d regain full control of her jhorun again and then all his plans would be for naught. Perhaps he could convince her she was thirsty?

  “I need a drink,” he announced to no one in particular.

  His entourage immediately crossed the street and headed toward the closest saloon. The sheriff didn’t even bother to see which one it was. He and his men drank for free at whichever establishment he chose. Those were the rules. His rules.

  “What’ll it be, sheriff?” the barkeep gloomily asked once they made it inside.

  “Whiskey for me, beer for the boys, and water for the lady.”

  The young barkeep nodded and began filling the order. Sheriff Bixby nodded at Deke, who then turned to the man holding the canteen. Deke discreetly took the glass of water the barkeep had placed on the tray, dumped it on the ground, and then filled it with water from the canteen. He quietly put the glass back on the tray and indicated the serving girl should deliver the drinks.

  Sarah, who hadn’t noticed the switch, eagerly gulped the water. The sheriff, who had watched Deke fill the glass, nodded appreciatively at him. All he had to do now was wait a few minutes for the opiate to kick in before he tried his experiment.

  Ten minutes later, as the men laughed, drank, and traded insults, Sarah’s head slipped off her hand and almost banged onto the table. The sheriff, who had been watching intently, smiled. It was show time.

  Sheriff Bixby tapped Sarah on her shoulder. He pointed across the table at two of his men who happened to be in a heated debate over who was the better poker player.

  “Did you see that? Just then? That fellow on the left just admitted he was unfaithful to his wife. Can you believe that? What would you do to him if you were married to him and he said that to you?”

  Sarah rubbed her eyes. She focused on the two men sitting across from her. Her brow furrowed as she tried to think. “I’d slap him. Hard.”

  “Do it. Show me what you’d do to your husband if he ever admitted to cheating on you.”

  Sarah’s eyes narrowed as she focused on the man. Her hand made a slight twitch. Everyone heard a loud slap and watched, dumbfounded, as Dexter was knocked backwards off his chair and fell over on the ground. His boots clunked against the table as his legs came to a rest, his body still. The sheriff gleefully nodded. She had knocked the man out cold and she had barely moved! While the men all laughed at Dexter’s still form sprawled out on the floor the sheriff eagerly looked around the room. What else could he get her to do?

  He spotted two men on the far side of the saloon drinking bottles of beer. Both men had spotted him and both were now staring at their bottles, hoping to not attract attention. He nudged Sarah again.

  “Look over there. See those two that are staring at their beers?”

  Sarah’s head slowly swiveled until she was looking at the two men. She slowly nodded.

  “They’re known bank robbers. I’ve seen their mugs on wanted posters all over town. They gotta be in town to rob our bank. You said you don’t like the idea of stealing anything, so if we can’t get their weapons away from them then they’re gonna hurt a lot of people and do terrible things. What can we do?”

  Sarah’s glazed eyes studied the two figures. She gave a slight shrug and sighed, as though the effort to concentrate was tiring her. She gave the barest flick of her hand. Two pistols dropped to the ground. Their chambers sprang open the moment contact was made with the floor, sending bullets tumbling everywhere.

  The first man stared at the other. “What the…”

  The men pushed back from their chairs and knelt on the floor, hastily gathering their guns and their bullets.

  With both goons facing away from them, the sheriff caught sight of one man’s billfold, sticking up out of his back pocket.

  “Didn’t you just say one of those men owes your husband money? You did, right?”

  Sarah’s brow furrowed as she tried to think.

  “I don’t…”

  “Oh, trust me, darlin’. You just said they owed your husband money. Look, there’s a wallet right there. Slide it over here. Hurry, before he realizes its missing!”

  The billfold zipped across the room and would have smacked into Sarah’s hand if the sheriff hadn’t been waiting for it. He snatched it out of the air before it could reach Sarah. He opened the wallet, extracted all the bills that were there, and then folded it closed. He handed it to Sarah.

  “Oh, my mistake. I guess not. You ought to send this back before anyone notices how suspicious it looks to have another man’s wallet.”

  Sarah nodded. The billfold hurled back through the air and neatly slid back into place in the man’s back pocket, all without him realizing it had ever been taken in the first place.

  The sheriff was all smiles. It worked! In fact, it had worked so well that his mind was spinning with possibilities. She could steal him gold, silver, even diamonds! Oh yes, whether Sarah wanted to or not, she was going to help him retire!

  He detected movement in his peripheral vision and turned to look at his table. Sarah had picked up her nearly empty glass and was swirling the contents around as she studied the clear liquid. Did she suspect something? Had the dose been too strong? Damn that Deke and his impetuousness. Had he inadvertently tipped Sarah off with a glass of water tainted with too much of the opium? Had she been able to taste it?

  “Come on, darlin’. I’d like to get some fresh air.”

  Sarah reluctantly set the glass down and rose to her feet. She swayed a little but managed to stay upright. The sheriff scowled. The water was definitely too strong. Now it was going to appear that she was intoxicated and could conceivably arouse suspicion.

  The sheriff bristled with annoyance. This was his town. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone questioning him or his actions. If he had to remind the people, then so be it.

  “We’re done here,” he told Deke. “Round up the boys. We’re leavin’.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  “Be quick about it. Comin’ to town with her was a mistake.”

  While several men went to get the horses and the wagon, Sheriff Bixby paced in front of the saloon, glaring at anyone that passed by as if daring them to challenge him. A smug smile formed on his face. Not only was no one looking his way, no one was even bothering to look up. That was how you ran a town. That’s how you kept people in line. With fear and determination.

  “Sarah? You who! Sarah! There you are!”

  The sheriff turned at the voice. A brunette serving girl had come out of the fashion boutique they had frequented earlier and was eagerly hurrying across the street.

  “I’ve been looking high and low for you. Where have you been?”

  Sarah stared at the newcomer’s face with a vacant expression.

  “Peggy? Is that you?”

  Peggy, one of Sarah’s co-workers at the Silver Spike, finally widened her field of view and noticed who was standing protectively nearby.

  “Sheriff Bixby? What are you doing here?”

  The sheriff’s cold grey eyes narrowed. “This is my town, darlin’. Get goin’. There ain’t nuthin’ for you here today.”

  The girl turned to look back at Sarah. Peggy’s face was set.

  “No. I don’t know what you’ve done to her but you need to leave her alone. I don’t abandon my friends and she clearly needs me.”

  Deke stepped directly into Peggy’s path, forcing the girl to acknowledge his presence.

  “Git on out of here, harlot. You heard the man. This doesn’t concern you. Now git!”

  Peggy jammed her hands into her hips and held her ground.

  “Not without my friend. You can’t treat people this way. I think you are the one that needs to leave.”

  CRACK!

  The sheriff had silently appeared next to Deke and had backhanded the serving girl, easily knocking her to the ground.

  “Consider that a warning, darlin’. When I tell a woman to git then she had damn well better git. Oh, and just so you know, there is no second warning.”

 

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