Betrayers Run in Shadows

by kayak Lady's Spouse

Jess Harper Gets a telegram from Lotte, a woman who saved him from being framed, asking for his help in protecting herself, her husband, and a woman named Julie from his past. Of course he goes to help.

"It's as dark as the inside of a cat," Jess mused in deadly silent grimness as he waited, leaning against the slanted trunk of the grizzled live oak. If Clarke had better night vision than he, the Texan hoped the bole would break up his silhouette- besides it kept him from shifting his weight and making a noise. A rustle sounded to his left and he slowly turned to face that way. Suddenly a gun roared, its flash briefly illuminating the shooter amongst the tombstones, and a bullet seared the Texan's left ear. Jess fired three times, dropped, and rolled to his right fetching up against a stone cross. Freezing, he heard the sound of wheezing breathing and finally the sound of someone having a spasm. Then there was nothing. It sounded like Clarke was all done.

Keeping low, Jess silently crawled through weeds and rough grass, eventually making it to the graveyard's low fence as lantern's heralded the arrival of others. But were they friends or enemies? "Con sarn it!," he thought, " I don't need help and I surely don't need more trouble. It's best to just avoid them." Easing himself over the fence, Jess got to his feet and quickly made his unseen way return to the back of his hotel.

He grabbed the dangling rope that he had left and hauled himself up. As his hand caught the window ledge, he paused to listen. A creak issued from an annoyed floor board inside as somebody moved. Soundlessly, Jess let himself back down the rope. Back on the ground, Jess silently slipped to the back door and let himself in. The Texan walked down the hall to the front. There he smiled and nodded to Burkhardt, the balding middle aged hotel owner who was at the front desk. That worthy looked back at him with something akin to horror and then visibly swallowed as he sheepishly glanced up the stairs.

Jess genially smiled at the man, "Mr. Burkhardt, there is somebody in my room. Fetch the deputy for me, will you?"

Burkhardt paled, then stuttered out, "Mr. Harper?"

Jess' smile hardened under his chill eyes, "You heard me. Or did you let in some honest visitor, an odd one who prefers to sit in the dark, to see me?"

"No, sir," the man squeaked.

"Then fetch the deputy or do I have to kick in the door and shoot the varmint? Or, " he paused, "are you going to go in and bring him out yourself?" At that suggestion, the man went even whiter, nodded, and headed for the front door.

To Burkhardt's further upset, Jess accompanied him outside and watched him as he crossed the street to the sheriff's office; assuring that the man didn't go around back and call up to whoever was in there. Two minutes later, Chief Deputy Winters, along with three junior deputies, came back with the unhappy hotel owner. Winters quietly parked one of his men outside of Jess' window and then the two lawmen, and Jess, went to Jess' door.

The three men stood to the sides of the door and, with an evil grin, Winters banged on the door three times shouting, "Harper, come out this instant, this is the law." Then he put Jess' key in the door and noisily unlocked it. Seconds later, they heard the outside deputy shout, "Stop right there or I'm letting fly with both barrels."

Winters threw open the door and all three piled into the room. No one was there but two hands held onto the rope hanging from the window. Attached to those hands was a very unhappy gun thug with a double barreled 10 gauge pointed at him. A few minutes later Jess was alone, miscreant and the amused law dogs had departed.

Jess went to the sink and used the mirror to examine his ear. Barely a nick, but my that was close. The shooter had almost punched his ticket with that shot. Using a wet cloth he cleansed the wound and looked into his own eyes in the reflection, "How in the blazes did you get into this mess?" he asked the reflection. It quirked a smile back at him, "By getting a telegram …"

SR SR SR SR

The Previous Week

"Land Sakes, Jess Harper, you act like you haven't eaten in a month," Miss Daisy chided Jess as he and Mike frenziedly savaged the pot of chicken and dumplings.

The rancher grinned sheepishly and forced himself to slow down. Mike's rampage continued unabashed and unabated. "We ran out of food, last night, and it was a long day getting back with nothing but water." The duo had reappeared a scant half hour before supper. "I still have no idea how that bear got our food out of that tree."

Slim shrugged, "You said you saw tracks from a sow and cubs?" At Jess' nod he smiled wryly, "I reckon it's old Bluebelle. She's not dangerous but she is an accomplished thief. Ike Ludlow once saw one of her cubs climb up a tree then drop on top of a sack of food hanging from a branch He said that Bluebelle just looked on grinning."

The blond rancher continued, "Just as well you two came back early. Jess, a telegram for you beat you back by about an hour." With that, Slim got up, hobbled on his casted leg (the ladder fell when he was painting the barn) to his desk and came back with a sealed envelope that he handed to his partner. The Texan shook his head, "Not until after dinner," he proclaimed turning back to Miss Daisy's aromatic delight of a meal.

Only after he was stuffed, the dishes cleared and washed, with Mike sent off to his homework, did the Texan turn to his message. Opening the envelope, his expression darkened and his lips quirked into a sour expression. At the end, he gave a visible start.

Slim and Daisy watched their friend's reaction with concern, "What is it Jess?" the older woman asked, curiously.

The Texan looked over to her, replying, "It's from Lotte Darby. She and Kett have a place in Bryan Wyoming and she wants me to come up and give them a hand."

Slim shook his head, "Shoot Jess, doesn't she know you have a ranch of your own to work? I mean, things are slack right now but, I would think they would be slack there too."

Miss Daisy's lips compressed, "Has Kett gotten into trouble again?"

Jess nodded and growled, "I reckon so."

"Landsakes! Lotte is a sweet girl, and she helped you out up in Ironwood but it was Kett who got you into that trouble to begin with! Telling their sheriff that you were Ray Thatcher! Then he used you as a decoy so that the Thatcher gang could rob the Ironwood bank," Daisy replied with hot disapproval.

"She says that Kett is standing up against some local toughs and she wants me to come up and help him," Jess said darkly.

"You're not going; are you Jess?" Daisy said, shaking her head. "Kett hasn't been much of a friend to you."

"No Daisy, he hasn't, and if that was all that was going on I wouldn't go. Shoot, like as not, Kett started the trouble," he rumbled in his gravelly voice.

"But that isn't all," Slim added quietly pursing his lips. "What else is there?"

Jess looked at his partner significantly, "Lotte says that Julie Donovan, Dixie Howard's old girlfriend, is there and that she is in danger."

Slim's eyes widened. He'd met, and liked, Julie. He also had a sneaking suspicion that if Jess had pressed her just a tiny bit more she would now be Mrs. Jess Harper. And he approved. "Then let's catch the morning stage," he said.

Jess smiled ruefully, "Not with that leg Pard. What could you do in a scrap?" Jess shook his head in negation, "Thanks Slim, but you aren't fit."

Slim scowled down at his casted leg. Reluctantly he nodded, "Yeah, I guess I would be more trouble than help." He paused then added, "Why don't you bring Julie back? I like her."

Jess nodded with a small smile, "What's not to like? A beautiful blonde gal with grit and sense? Besides, she can pluck bullets out of a man like Miss Daisy can pluck flowers. That's something we need around here more often than I like to think about. I just MIGHT bring her back."

Slim laughed at the light words and smiled broadly. Daisy shook her head at the Texan with a narrow but amused expression.

SR SR SR SR SR

Jess hopped the stage the following morning, taking it as far as Green River. Only a dozen miles from Bryan, Green River was once a town of thousands, now it was a mere shadow of it's former self. Still, it boasted a hotel, a telegraph office, and a sheriff's office. It was the latter where Jess was headed. Green River's sheriff, Alex McKay, was an old friend of Mort Corey's and Jess had gotten Mort to wire ahead.

Jess entered the office. "Sheriff McKay?" he called as he came in.

"Come on back," a deep voice answered. "Mind the floor, it's wet."

Jess crossed the room and passed through an open doorway. In the empty cellblock beyond, a stout red-faced man with hair just starting to gray was cheerfully mopping a floor so shiny that it almost glowed.

The man favored Jess with a smile as he entered. "I'm Alex McKay," he said, "What can I do for you?"

"Sheriff, I am Jess Harper."

The lawman nodded, "Mort's friend. Let me put the mop away. Come on out front." A minute later the two men were seated at McKay's desk with coffee in cups. "So Mr. Harper, what trouble brings you to Green River? Mort said you would be stopping by to talk but not why. Is it business, revenge, or are you looking for someone?" Intelligent eyes, set in a hatchet face, examined Jess in detail.

Jess shook his head. "Nothing that will be a problem for you. I got a telegram calling for help from a friend in Bryan. Since it was sent from here, and since there is a telegraph office at the depot there, Mort and I figured that stopping off here to find out what is wrong in Bryan might be a good idea."

The lawman smiled grimly, "Mort's no fool and he gave you good advice. He takes after his pappy." The sheriff sipped his coffee and organized his thoughts. "I don't know the details, or where the bodies are buried, but Bryan is a right mess. Some of the rancher bully boys who previously controlled the area haven't taken kindly to the railroad coming in and trying to run the place. Chief amongst the irate ranchers are Kyle O'Dell and Zack Fulton. It doesn't help that the railroad put in Sheriff Hardesty while the county Marshal, David Bean, is in tight with the old bullys."

"Sean Hardesty?" Jess interrupted

"Yup, the same. Funny how a felon can get out of prison and immediately become a lawman isn't it?" McKay said in a voice totally devoid of humor. "But don't worry about him 'cause he wound up on a slab about 2 weeks ago. Both him and the local railroad boss; a guy named Charles DuBois. A deputy named Budd Winters took over for Hardesty. From what I hear, Budd is hanging on by the skin of his teeth. Hardesty and Bean despised each other and Bean, crooked as a dog's hind leg, has treated Winters in a like manner. You figure your friend didn't want it known he was sending for help?"

Jess nodded. "She," he said.

"Was that telegram sent a couple of days ago?" McKay asked quirking his lips. When Jess nodded, he went on, "I think you're right. Anything that woman does would be commented upon. Not many women as beautiful as she is. If she had gone into Bryans telegraph office, it would have been talked about."

Jess looked at him oddly, "I didn't tell you who she was. Lotte is pretty but not nearly that ….."

McKay shook his head, "Jess, Green River isn't what it once was. Folks are moving out and nothing much happens here anymore. It just so happens that I saw your, you said her name was Lotte?"

Jess nodded, "I saw her ride in and head to the telegraph office. Then she rode out. A woman that beautiful- jeans on lovely long legs, striking figure, platinum hair almost to her waist, nice clothes and eyes so blue that you could make'em out across the street? I doubt she can do anything in Bryan without it being remarked upon."

"Alex, I think you have a weakness for blondes," Jess answered with a laugh. "Lotte is pretty enough, and I guess she has let her hair grow; probably to please Kett. She doesn't stop traffic though, nor cause men to accidentally swallow their chewing tobacco."

Alex McKay joined in the laugh, "Well I DO like blondes, and that's a fact. But Jess, if you don't find her stunning you had better get your eyes checked." Then as quickly as he started laughing he stopped and grim voiced asked, "Did you say Kett? Would that be Kett Darby?"

"Yeah," Jess said with a smiling nod. "Lotte is his wife."

McKay let out a snort, "Darby is a lowlife shootest who worked for railroad man DuBois. Doesn't it strike you as odd that your Lotte would send for you to help Darby and not want the telegraph office run by the ahem railroad, to know? Given as how Darby is a railroad gun thug."

Jess' smile died a quick death, but he shook his head. "Kett could get involved in something low and stupid; he has a history. But Lotte wouldn't get me into something unlawful and underhanded. That isn't her way."

"Not even to save her proven to be stupid husband?" Alex McKay grimly pressed.

Jess felt his blood run cold, "Well maybe then." He sighed, "Thanks sheriff for the information. At least I won't be heading in completely blind. Anything else you want to tell me?"

Alex McKay looked at him, hesitated then shrugged, "I was going to say that I think you should head home and stay out of whatever mess that woman is sending you into. To not break the law just to help a no-account like Darby, just because a pretty gal asks you to. But I don't reckon you'll listen to me."

The Texan shook his head and smiled grimly, "I won't get into trouble on Kett's account but I think I will head up there and have a look."

Alex nodded and shrugged. "I have a horse and rig you can borrow. You'll want to be able to get about Bryan when you get there." He paused, then added, "Corny Kramer is the postmaster. He can tell you where to find your Lotte. If you tell him I asked him to, he will probably not tell anyone you are looking for her. Likely, it would be best to find out from her why she wants to keep contacting you a secret."

"Thanks Alex."

SR SR SR SR SR

The ride to Bryan had been as uneventful as Jess' arrival to the bustling railroad town. To his eye, Bryan looked prosperous, booming even. Folks were out and about their business on the pleasant fall day. The town was new with the railroad station standing tall in its pride of place. Jess immediately found the post office and from there he was directed to the Darby place, about four miles out of town, near the railroad line. Indeed, the house was only about 70 yards from the rails and Jess winced thinking how loud THAT must be when a train came through after midnight.

About a quarter mile from the house, Jess spotted, and waved cordially to, a couple of teenagers out hunting with shot guns. The shorter of the pair cheerily waved back then jerked around as his older brother let fly at something up in the trees. Moments later a black hound trotted up to the taller boy who took something from it and patted the dog on the head. The canine happily loped back under cover. "Gotta take Mike out shooting when I get back home," the rancher thought cheerfully.

Approaching the small farmhouse, Jess saw an empty corral, and chickens randomly pecking about in the yard. Yet there was no sign of anyone being home despite the front door standing open. He tethered his mount to the corral rails and then called loudly to the house, "Lotte? Kett? Anybody home?" Only the breeze in the trees answered him. Concerned, he approached the house while calling out twice more. Still nothing. He pulled his .45 and went in.

Lotte Darby lay dead in the front room, her narrow face was half covered by her shoulder length strawberry blonde hair. Lotte's cold corpse lay violated by two powder burned holes, one in her leg and one in her chest. Three gunshot holes in the far wall were also readily visible. Whoever had shot her had been almost close enough to touch and had still shown lousy marksmanship. A glance around the room showed nothing else to be disturbed and small valuables still lay about the room. The only thing that appeared to have been taken was Lottes' life. Who on earth would want to kill Lotte Darby? A harmless, sweet, and pretty young woman; her looks marred only by her inordinately large feet, she had been a kind and generous soul, though not always sensible. Getting hitched to Kett was proof of the last.

Angrily, Jess searched for clues to what might have happened. The door wasn't forced. The windows were closed. The house was not at all disordered. The fireplace, though full of ashes, was stone cold. There hadn't been a fire in it today nor last night. Also, the state of her body indicated that Lotte had been dead for quite a spell. Where had Kett gotten to? It wasn't until he was looking in the yard that Jess found anything of interest. There he found the tracks of several horses, men's boots, and two sets of woman's' shoes- Louis heeled by the looks of them. One set was Lotte's since they were almost as large as Jess' boot tracks. The other were of a more normal size for a gal. Those last were fresher than any others save one pair of men's boots that trod over them in a couple of places. Those two pair had NOT come together. That was obvious from where they had each tied up their horses.

Jess exited the house, shutting the front door to keep out varmints, and remounted his horse. "Gotta head back to town to tell Kett and to fetch the law," he thought with a sigh. Neither action would be fun. The law would suspect him and Kett would, well, what would Kett do? Kett had a long history of cheating on girlfriends; using pretty gals and then dropping them when it suited him. Would he do that with a wife? Maybe so, Jess thought with annoyance, but he doubted he would KILL a wife. Or any gal for that matter. No, Kett would be as angry as he was. "Maybe, together, we can even this score. There is no making it right. There never is with murder," the Texan observed out loud.

After Jess left, he briefly stopped to talk to the two bird hunting teenagers; Jacob and Leon Jordan. As Jess had guessed, they were neighbors who hunted this area regularly. Neither boy had seen any sign of either Darby, or anybody else, at the Darby home that day. They HAD seen a horseman, mounted upon a paint, ride in at twilight of the evening before. The unidentified man had ridden in, then had hurriedly ridden out again, less than five minutes later. Jess explained what had happened and the boys agreed to look in on Kett's livestock before heading home.

Jess made time heading back to town. His first stop was the jail since he figured finding Kett might take a while. He tethered his horse and strode in, calling out, "Deputy Winters?"

A hard bitten looking black haired 35ish man, sitting behind a desk piled high in paperwork, looked up interestedly, "Here! Who might you be?" Two other men with badges looked on while the sounds of other men talking and going about tasks drifted into the room from the back.

"My name is Jess Harper, I just got into town to visit a friend and found her dead in her home. Lotte Darby," he announced in his grimmest gravel voice. With that, Jess found himself the center of the undivided attention of five lawmen, two additional coming in from the back. He told them what he had found and the six men, plus the undertaker, rode out to the Darby place. There, the Jordan boys reported when Jess had arrived there today. That, plus the time and date notation on his telegram, cleared the Texan of any suspicion.

Shortly thereafter, Jess and the undertaker brought Lotte back to town, leaving the law to poke around like Jess had done earlier. Abandoning the mortician to carry on with his grim work, Jess stopped at the Hotel to get a room. There he made a pair of acquaintances; first the owner- a man named Burkhardt that Jess immediately sized up as an untrustworthy weasel, and then with Millie, a sweet sixteen-year-old maid. The girl blushed wildly as she showed him to his room. Next he commenced looking for Kett Darby. Since Winters had verified his being a railroad gun thug, Jess went to the station and asked around. He had little success. "Dag nab it," Jess grumbled, "that's the fourth person who was short on help and long on suspicion. Folks barely admit Kett exists, let alone where he has gotten to."

Still grumbling, Jess made for the station master's office. The door stood open and a short, balding, bespectacled, middle aged man sat upon a large book in a chair. He was tiny compared to the immense, overly ornate, and paperwork festooned desk in front of him. Hearing Jess come in, he looked up with a friendly smile. "Yes?"

"Howdy. I'm Jess Harper and I'm looking for Kett Darby. Would you know where I can find him?"

Once again, Jess found himself being eyed suspiciously, but instead of unhelpful shrugs, he got a reasonable question, "Mr. Harper, I am Dennis Corwyn and I am the station master. Mr. Darby is away on railroad business. Why do you need to know where he is?"

Coldly he answered, "His wife has been murdered. Somebody needs to tell him."

The man blinked, then waved Jess to a chair in front of his towering citadel of a desk. Corwyn opened his mouth, Jess was sure to ask "Are you sure?" Then he shut it, sighed, and opened it again "Does Deputy Winters know?" At Jess' nod he continued. "If you would be kind enough to give me the details, I shall tell him. Unless, of course, you wish to tell him yourself. I don't fancy such an unpleasant task but you needn't wait around if you do not wish to."

Jess shrugged, "I am an old family friend so I had best stick around. Maybe I can find out who did it before Kett gets back."

Corwyn nodded approvingly, "Kett Darby is a good security man. Like many such, he is not passive when he is angry. I can easily see him shooting somebody on mere suspicion." He paused, "Of course if someone hurt my Kitty, I would be enraged myself."

"The house wasn't robbed. Do you know anyone who would want Lotte dead? Or barring that, who are Kett's enemies?"

The little man shook his head with a grimace. "Oh, Kett has plenty of folks who don't like him. Anybody with a beef with the railroad- most especially the Fultons or the O'Dells. But Miss Lotte? I find that hard to believe. She seemed very nice. Of course, I have been here less than two weeks and I don't know them well." His lips twisted wryly and he continued, "I can"t even tell you who their friends are 'cept for their neighbors the Jordans and Mrs. DuBois. My predecessor's widow."

"She is a friend of Lotte's?" Jess asked hopefully.

"I don't know about that. She is a friend of Kett's though. Knows him through his working for Charles. Charles frequently used Kett as a bodyguard." Jess rolled his eyes. No doubt Kett flirted with his boss' wife. The man flirted with anyone who was even vaguely female. Old, young, all of them. If a senile hunch backed two headed gal with no teeth and snakes for hair had been around, Kett would have flirted with her. Doubtless Mrs. DuBois was a frumpy middle aged woman since she had been married to somebody like Corwyn. He needed to find out what folks thought of Kett and Lotte, especially who were their friends and enemies. Still, she might know something and so Jess decided he would start there.

Corwyn continued, "I think that Kett will be back in two days. He was helping guard some coin patterns being shipped to the Carson City mint. They've arrived safely so he is returning." Then the small man grinned, "My people wouldn't talk about Kett would they? It's the coin patterns. Kett went as an undercover guard."

"No, they wouldn't," the Texan said with a head shake. Jess then thanked the man, got directions to the DuBois house, which was less than 100 yards from the station, and stood to leave. It was then that he noticed the stepping block that Corwyn used to get into his chair.

The station master followed his gaze and shrugged without embarrassment. "Some folks are just taller than others. I haven't yet had a chance to replace my predecessor's furniture with things of reasonable size. Charles DuBois was an ostentatious man who liked to intimidate those around him. I dare say that he is not much missed." Impulsively, Jess grinned and decided that he liked Dennis Corwyn. He offered the small man his hand that gent shook it amicably. Then he departed.

Upon his arrival at casa DuBois, even before he knocked, a stern faced matronly maid answered the door. The woman dourly informed him that Mrs. DuBois was in mourning, that the madam was not receiving visitors, and then she slammed the door in his face. Startled, and more than a little taken aback, Jess stood there blinking in surprise. Then the Texan shook his head, wryly smiled, and politely said to the door, "Maybe later would be better."

Turning away, Jess started towards a saloon where he might find a drink and men willing to talk. As he turned from the house, he caught a glimpse of a second story window hastily being curtained.

SR SR SR SR

The saloon, one of those establishments that had never been blessed with a name, was a lively one. Townsmen, miners, and cowpokes shared space and company. With them were a minority of women pursuing disreputable work and a fiendishly tinny piano torturing "The Rose of Alabama." Jess bellied up to the bar and found that the beer was quite good. Then, stein in hand, he turned to look over the place. A few card games were in progress while other small groups of men drank, swapping laughter and lies at tables around the room. 'Course not all the groups looked genial. Matter of fact, one group of wranglers looked downright grumpy …. and, of course, the largest of their number was heading straight for Jess. To his surprise, Jess recognized the smiling man- Toby Clarke. He and Clarke had shared some trail back in Jess' woolier days. They had been neither friends nor enemies but Jess knew the man well enough to know that his smile meant nothing.

"Jess Harper," the grinning man cheerily called out after he saw that Jess had seen him coming. His previous companions split up taking up different angles to watch Jess and their associate. "I thought you were dead back in Texas," he said in more normal tones as he approached normal speaking distances.

"Not hardly, Toby," Jess replied amiably noting that Clarke's pistol was still tethered down. "I escaped that hanging and then got cleared. I'm free and clear of the law. How about you?"

The big man glanced to his left, calling, "Another beer, Jack." Then turned back to Jess, "I work for Fulton. Doing this and that. Sure you aint up here for similar work? Fulton is hiring. Can use a good gun hand like you. Pay is good."

Jess thought, let's see what Clarke has to say about Kett. "Maybe," Jess allowed. "Got a little business of my own to take care of with Kett Darby."

Clarke started then looked at Jess narrowly, "What have you to do with him?"

"He pointed me out to the local law, over in Ironwood, as part of the Thatcher gang. I wasn't but he was. I kinda owe him for that," Jess explained.

Clarke snorted, "Sounds like Darby. He's a snaky little weasel. Shoot, he comes here and beds the married woman he's helping bodyguard, just after marrying a pretty thing from somewhere else. His bride evened it up, though. My boss has been trying to spark her and a coupla nights back she finally took him up on it." The smiling gunman laughed, "I was there when the Renfrew kid brought a note from her. When he rode out he stank like a French house of joy and was wearing his Sunday best."

Jess put on his best poker face, Lotte cheating on Kett? That was a surprise and likely not true. A few nights back? That could have been the guy on the paint. "How do you know it was her? Did Fulton shout ' Yippee, I'm gonna diddle Darby's wife! And then throw his hat up in the air?"

Clarke's smile broadened and he said with mock astonishment, "I didn't know you knew Zack Fulton." Then he laughed again, "Nah, saw the kid hand Zack a note and Zack likes to brag so he showed it to me. The gal was pissed that her man was banging the widow DuBois."

"Sounds like Kett," Jess allowed, "The man's always in a hurry to let out his trouser lizard."

Clarke nodded his agreement, "Anyway, Darby runs gunnies for the railroad. Just so happens that them and us don't get along so well. Can't say I'd mind if you settled Darby for us," Clarke said. "Depending on how you sort that out, you might want to look us up afterwards," the big man said as he slid from his barstool.

"Maybe I will," Jess said to the smiling man's back as he left. The man's companions followed him out.

SR SR SR SR SR

The train woke Jess up as it rolled in just after midnight. "Con sarn it," he grumbled, opening his eyes and looking out the open front facing window of his room. Though the clacking of the wheels on the rails had stopped, the locomotive was still a hissing beast with men stomping around it talking loudly to each other. To his surprise, Jess caught sight of Kett talking to an engineer at the side of the train. Hurriedly he threw on his clothes, left his room, hustled down the stairs, and exited the hotel. There was no sign of his quarry when Jess crossed the street. The engineer was still there, examining a coupling by the light of his lantern.

"Excuse me," he called to the man.

"Eh?" the bewhiskered man answered while tiredly looking up.

"Where did Darby go? He just got in didn't he?"

"Ayup. Just got in. Home I guess. He lives here y'know," the man answered while disinterestedly turning his back upon Jess to tighten some bolts.

Jess stepped away, looking up and down the street. "Knowing Kett, since nobody met him, and he has no horse here, he is either off to the livery, the saloon, or someplace in town to sleep. I'd have seen him if he had headed to the hotel," he reasoned. Jess turned towards the saloon and immediately caught sight of a man's silhouette headed in that direction.

A pleased smile flashed across Jess' face and he followed, closing with the man fairly quickly. As he got closer he realized that there was a 2nd man silhouetted ahead of the first. This 2nd man was moving more sedately while carrying a heavy carpetbag in his left hand. As the first man closed with the 2nd, Jess closed with the first. A scarce five feet separated each man from his stalker when Jess saw a bite of silver in his quarry's right hand. Quick as thought, Jess leapt forward and yanked out his .45. Slewing it sideways, a heavy thud sounded as Jess buffaloed the knife wielder. The assassin fell without a word.

The man in front whirled at the noise and Jess heard a pistol cock from that direction. "Stop right there," the voice of Kett Darby ordered with edgy ferocity.

Jess let out a sigh of relief as he froze in place, "Ease up Kett. It's Jess Harper. I think I just kept you from getting your throat slit."

The silhouette froze for a moment then, as he holstered his gun, said in surprise, "Jess, what are you doing here?"

"Lotte sent for me. She said that you were in trouble and she asked me to come up and help you out," he answered. "Who is this? I thought he was you so I moved to catch up with him. Then I saw that he was coming up on you with a knife in his hand." Jess paused, "His intentions didn't seem very neighborly."

"Hmm, lets take this mutt over to the jail where they've a cell to drop him into and enough light to see who he is." Then, bending over the downed man he added, "You say Lotte sent for you? That's odd. Things have been quieting down around here."

Before Jess could answer, two shots rang out and he knew no more.

SR SR SR SR

Jess Harper, a bandage about his head where a bullet had creased it, lay upon the bed in the doctor's office as that worthy frowned down at him. Then she placed her hand upon his cheek; half in caress and half to reassure herself that it really was Jess lying there- bullet dented head and all. Julie Donovan, MD, sat down next to him, heart atwitter and stuck in her throat with worry. She knew that it would stay that way until Jess woke up. Not if, but when, she chided herself coldly. Jess WOULD wake up because his not waking up would just hurt way too much.

She thought about when she had last seen the Texan. Some years previously, she had met Jess when Dixie Howard, her long time -and law pursued- boyfriend, had gotten himself shot getting whiskey. Jess had been the last living man Dixie trusted so they had gone to him for help. As Dixie mended, their long eroding relationship had finally ended. As it did, she and Jess fell in love. But she desired more from life than to be a drifting gunman's girl; Dixie had already cursed her with way more of that than she wanted. So, in a decision that broke her heart, she had left the Texan before things had continued to fruition; a near thing.

What had she done in the interim? She had nurtured her natural talents as a practical physician/surgeon into being a real honest to God MD; diploma and all. It had been endless work, study, and a modicum of danger since she had traded undercover work with the Pinkertons for their paying for her formal schooling. The wildlife of living with Dixie had served her, and them, well in that work. Soon she would be done with the detectives, a mere six weeks, all debts paid and leaving on good terms. They didn't want her to go, and truth to tell they were one of the few companies that treated women fairly, but she was determined to move in. In point of fact, she had decided to see if Jess Harper was still in Laramie and, if he was, to see where they stood. She hoped against all hope that he had not gone back to drifting, been killed, or that some sweet young thing had had the bad sense to marry him. Now here he was, an injured gunman obviously still on the drift. She felt the old warmth for him, but had suffered enough of being rootless.

"Oh Jess, you haven't changed, have you? What happened to becoming a law-abiding rancher?" she sighed, running a hand through her slightly more than shoulder length platinum blonde hair. Then without thinking, she leaned over and gently kissed him on the lips. It was a good kiss, long, soft, and sweet. It was a sad thing that the Texan was not awake to enjoy it.

For his part, Jess was dreaming of the past events where Kett had betrayed him in Ironwood. In the dream, Kett had been apologizing for what he had done when the sensation of Julie's kiss worked its way into the imagery. Kett leaned in and gave him a smooch. Startled and displeased, Jess awoke spluttering, "Kett, no, I don't…." as twin lightning bolts shot between his ears at his sudden movement. He moved his hands up to wipe his lips but ending up clutching both sides of his head instead. Then his half dazed eyes came into focus.

"JULIE? Are you alright?" he blurted out, hands coming down from his head the moment some of his wits had returned.

The curvy physician leaned back and sardonically answered, "Jess Harper, I am not the one with a dented skull. Am I alright?" she shook her head. "How are YOU feeling, cowboy?"

"I'm fine," he lied in a growl as another pair of, albeit smaller, lightning bolts lanced through his brain. "What happened and how did I get to," he looked around, "wherever this is."

"Kett Darby brought you here, to my office. He said that the pair of you had been jumped by a couple of Fulton's men. Then off he went to talk to the law."

"Your office?" Jess asked quizzically.

She quirked her lips at him and answered, "Yes, my office." Then her voiced picked up more of her native southern accent, "Whyever shouldn't I have an office, Jess Harper?" She moved close to him and he sat up as she took his face into her left hand while swatting playfully at his left arm as he tried to snake it around her torso. "No hugging the doctor," she chided. "Look into my eyes, I want to see if you have a concussion."

She looked deeply into his eyes, thinking "God he has beautiful eyes. No sign of brain damage which is even better." Then she asked, "Whatever happened to settling down and becoming a rancher?" the question brimming with inadvertent intensity.

Jess couldn't shake his head because of the firm grip on his chin, "I have. Slim and I are still partners down by Laramie. I came up here because I heard that you were in danger," he answered.

The answer of still being a rancher in Laramie filled her with warm butterflies but she then jerked her head up with a start when he said that he had come to protect her. Eying him suspiciously she asked, "What? Where did you hear that from? Why should I be in danger?" while thinking 'good lord, has somebody found out I am a Pinkerton? And told Jess of all people? And why?"

Something in her tone caused Jess to slightly tilt his head and raise an eyebrow, "Lotte sent me a telegram saying that you and Kett were in danger and needed help. So I came," he replied.

"Lotte who?"

Jess looked at her startled, "Lotte Darby, Kett's wife. Don't you know her?"

Julie shrugged while shaking her head, "No, I never met her. Kett and I aren't real close. I mean, I know he's married but I didn't even know her name. I don't much like men like him. Now lay back and we'll talk for a bit. I don't want you to pass out again."

Grimacing, Jess lay back, answering, "I don't much either." The pair talked for a few hours, until the shapely doctor was fully reassured that Jess wasn't going to drift into a concussion induced coma. There she learned of Jess' doings, and what Kett had done to him previously which only reinforced her previous opinions. Jess learned of her being a Pinkerton agent, which he promised to keep that quiet, ferreting out information on outlaws, and more commonly, corrupt lawmen which was her current assignment. It turned out that a railroad company doctor, which were usually sent to places in conflict, was frequently in a good position to identify bent badges. Here she had located two prime candidates; sheriff Hardesty and county marshal Bean- one owned by each side of the local troubles. Hardesty was now dead, and the woman was firmly convinced that Deputy Winters was honest and had the other deputies under control.

SR SR SR SR SR

"Jess," red faced Kett thundered, "why didn't you tell me that Lotte has been murdered?"

Julie Donovan looked up from her meal and favored the fist clenching Darby with a look that was generally reserved for such things as squishy dog leavings found by running around with bare feet. Jess looked up sympathetically from his heaping helpings of steak, eggs, and potatoes. Kett had interrupted their intimate breakfast at a local restaurant. Jess quietly answered, "Mostly because I got shot in the head before I had a chance to say anything."

Kett stopped, let out his breath in an almost gasp, and sat down uninvited. "Yeah, I guess. Sorry Jess. What happened to her? Winters won't tell me anything. We have a history, he and I…..and it isn't a good one." So Jess told his old compatriot what he had found upon his arrival to Kett's home. As he talked, Kett's face grew greyer and grimmer. Then the Texan even more grimly said, "What comes next is going to be hard for you to hear."

"Harder than how the woman I love was found murdered?" the man answered bitterly. "I doubt that."

Jess looked at him poker faced. Julie's gaze remained unchanged in quality and she simply folded her arms. Then Jess continued, telling Kett of the sighting of the man on the paint, and what Clarke had said concerning his boss. Kett went white as a sheet, "My God," he whispered. "Lotte would never cheat on me. Never."

"Even if she caught you cheating on her?" Julie put in

"I haven't gone near to the Widow DuBois," he replied looking down and not meeting anyone's eyes. His body language shouting that he was ashamed and lying. Julie snorted in a most unfeminine way, especially since the woman hadn't been previously mentioned, making some color return to Kett's cheeks. Abruptly Kett stood, harsh voicedly proclaiming, "Zack Fulton killed her."

Jess bolted up equally quickly and got a hand on the grieving man's shoulder. "Slow down Kett. Sit. Don't race off halfcocked. If nothing else, Fulton has Clarke and other guns around him. Charging in and getting yourself killed won't help anything." He guided the man back to his chair as Julie mopped up Jess' sloshed coffee. The three talked quietly for some minutes when a pair of townsmen came over to commiserate with Kett. He went off with them to have a drink.

The couple watched the trio leave and Julie's hand went over and gently squeezed Jess' thigh under the table. "What now Jess?" she asked sadly. "I don't enjoy seeing anyone in pain but as lecherous and treacherous as Kett Darby is, my sympathy is limited. Going to leave this to the law?" she asked with real but scant hope.

Jess shook his head, "No, I liked Lotte and I think I will hang around a little to find her killer." Then he smiled, "Besides, I'm wounded and my doctor is here. I have to stay close to her."

She smiled warmly at that, "Yes, I have to take proper care of you so don't wander far. Though, given the size of your breakfast, your body is fine." Very fine, her voice implied without adding the word adjective.

Jess frowned and grew serious, "Julie, do you know Fulton at all?" At her nod, he asked, "Is he the sort of man to kill a woman who invites him over for, well, you know? Or to kill her if she changes her mind"

The woman considered and then shook her head. Then she answered, "Zack Fulton is self-important, lecherous, self-indulgent and prone to bullying but he isn't a wanton killer. He will sic gun thugs on rivals, or he might shoot them himself, and/or react poorly in passion. But I don't see him killing a woman for changing her mind. Slapping her? Maybe. Yelling at and threatening her, likely. Being irritated, absolutely. Shooting her? No. He has plenty of women."

"You know him well, then?"

Again, she shook her head, "I wouldn't say that. But quite a few fists, and a good bit of lead, has flown around here. Typical robber baron activity where the established bullying ranchers didn't take kindly to the railroad, especially with DuBois in charge, coming into town and trying to run things. Despite being the railroad doctor, I have been patching up both sides."

Jess shook his head, "Wouldn't think the railroad would like that. Or that the ranch gunnies would trust you"

She laughed, "Jess I AM the best surgeon in Bryan. Dr. Harris is a drunk and Dr. Woodley is old and has shaky hands." Then she added with a fierce but amused look in in her deep blue eyes, "And nobody tells me who or who not to tend to. So yes, I've seen Fulton around and talked to him some." Then she added very quietly, "And asked questions about him since he owns the county marshal. Don't trust Bean, Jess, if you intend to go after Fulton."

Jess once again took up his fork and recommenced working his way through breakfast. "So Fulton is the obvious suspect but you think it is out of character for him. How about somebody setting him up?"

The platinum blonde beauty nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps, but why Jess? And how? They would have to know he was going there and to get there ahead of him. Also, they would have to know that the girl was dead or they were going to kill her themselves."

Jess chewed his yolk smeared steak thoughtfully, "Either Fulton delayed going long enough for somebody to get ahead of him, the boy showed somebody else the note, or somebody besides Lotte sent the blasted thing in the first place….if Fulton was set up, which may not be the case."

The woman nodded, picked up her fork and speared some of the abundance of egg from Jess' plate, obviously changing her mind about only having coffee and toast. "So you're going to talk to the boy?"

"Hey, what gives? That's my breakfast!" Jess mock protested.

Julie gave him a haughty professional look, "Just part of my medical fees Mr. Harper."

"Oh, well, ok then." Then more seriously, "Know any kids with the last name of Renfrew?"

Julie looked at him for a moment and said with the ghost of a smile, "Why yes Jess." Then she pointed down the street and Jess saw half a dozen pre-teens playing. "See that street going off to the left from main street? Where those kids are playing?"

"Yeah."

"That's Renfrew Street. Just about everybody who lives on it is a Renfrew. A whole wagon train of them settled here." She paused, "And most of them work for the railroad."

The Texan sighed, "I am not sure where to start then. Finding the kid or otherwise checking out Fulton."

Julie smiled, took and squeezed his hand, then spoke, "I can probably find your boy for you." Then she frowned and quietly added, "You take care with Fulton. The man is dangerous."

SR SR SR SR SR

After breakfast, which took considerably longer than usual as he and his companion were reluctant to part company, Jess walked over to the sheriff's office to see if they had found out anything he hadn't. He could hear Kett Darby's slurred shouting well before he walked in. "Morning Budd, "he called loudly to the chief deputy who was also the acting sheriff.

Winters looked up and gave him a wave to the chair in front of his desk, "What do you want Jess? Care to take your friend Darby off my hands and keep him out of trouble? He, and two buddies of his, set a speed record for getting roaring drunk. I had to arrest them to keep them from being drunk and stupid."

Jess wryly shook his head, "You can keep him, he's no friend of mine. He used to be but not anymore. Lotte was my friend, though, and I would like to find her killer. You find anything else out?"

Budd got up, shut the door to the back, cutting out about half of Kett's rumpus, and walked back, shaking his head. "Nothing beyond what you told me. I am going to ride out to the Fulton place and see what Zack Fulton has to say. Care to come along? You'll have a better chance of coming back alive if you go with me rather than going by yourself," the hard-bitten lawman said with a small smile. "You are going out there today, aren't you?"

"Sure, and yeah that was my plan. Thanks."

"Oh, and I wanted to tell you that I approve you trying to take Gordo Lopez alive and not to worry about having to kill him. There's not a lot you can do when a man whirls and pulls on you. Stupid of him since you had already cracked him on the head AND had the drop on him. But boot hill is full of men who died stupid," Winters said with a shrug.

"Who's Gordo Lopez? I haven't shot anybody," Jess replied.

That brought Winters short. Scowling, the local lawman looked Jess intently in the eyes, "A strong arm working for the Fultons. He was the guy who you stopped from waylaying Darby last night and he isn't much of a loss to the world." A pause, "You did do that last night, didn't you? That's how you got shot, or so Darby says. A couple of guys behind you opened up as you shot Lopez, and Darby drove them off then toted you over to Doc Donovan."

"Oh, him, yeah," Jess lied rather lamely. "It's all kinda vague and I didn't know his name." How had that guy gotten shot? If Kett said he did it then Kett must have done it after I went down, Jess thought. Probably to make sure he didn't come after him again. "I never knew anything about the shooter that hit me. I took out the one and then I woke up at Julie's office."

Winters nodded, "So I figured. And I have to admit that getting shot in the head can fuzz up recollections." The lawman stood, collected three more deputies and the five men rode out to the Fulton spread. The quintet of men, pistols loose in their holsters, rode up, dismounted, knocked on the door of the ranch house. Mrs. Fulton, Zack Fulton's mother, asked them in. Five minutes later, Zack was being questioned and fifteen minutes after that, the five men were heading back to Bryan. According to Zack Fulton, he had never been to the Darby place, and knew nothing about any note. He denied everything and pointed out that there were dozens of paints around Bryan. Toby Clarke, also present, flatly denied ever saying anything to Jess about either a note or assignation. The smiling gunman did admit that he had more or less offered Jess a job on the ranch, an offer that he now withdrew. Jess got the impression that the next thing that Clarke intended to offer to him would be a lot less amiable.

SR SR SR SR SR SR

Jess wandered about Bryan, trying to figure what to do next. He had once again been rudely rebuffed by the DuBois house keeper, visiting Kett in jail had no appeal and Julie had chased him out of her office saying that she had appointments. That last had been fun, and he looked forward to seeing her at dinner. But now he was at loose ends. As a last resort, he sat upon a hitching rail and thought. "Who would want to kill Lotte? She was harmless and not prone to making enemies. Somebody to get at Kett? That pointed at the Fultons or O'Dells or somebody else he ticked off." In the end, Jess decided to just ask folks who might have known her. Store owners, ministers, whoever. So off he went. Three general stores and five churches (one abandoned and repurposed as a house of ill-repute) later, Jess had found several folks sympathetic to his cause but little new information. Lotte was well liked by those who knew her and nobody had an answer as to why somebody would want her dead.

In further gossip, Kett was definitely having an affair with the widow DuBois who turned out to be neither frumpy nor middle aged. In fact, she was reputed to be quite beautiful; a widow who wed for money to the despised local railroad manager. Kett was said to have been enthusiastically 'consoling the widow' even before the man was cold. Of course, Jess allowed, that last was likely an exaggeration as the widow was as unpopular with the townswomen as she was reputed to be beautiful. One bookish girl went so far as to call her "Milady de Winter" whatever that meant. Jess had yet to meet her and to form his own opinion.

Also, according to the locals, the only likable thing about Charles DuBois had been his money. Greedy, conniving, tight fisted, and politically astute. He was a land grabber who ruthlessly used inside railroad information to, lawfully or otherwise, make the most money he could. Aside from his widow, who had loudly prodded local law enforcement to go after the Fultons, there wasn't much enthusiasm for identifying and arresting whoever had back shot the man. The same was true regarding his equally unpopular, and dead, bought-and-paid-for-killer; sheriff Hardesty.

To their credit, the town deputies had pursued the undoubted culprits but there just wasn't any evidence- something honest law courts are picky about- to tie them to the deed. In the end, a new railroad boss, Dennis Corwyn had taken over and life went on….apparently quite well. Corwyn was a popular man and his replacement of DuBois seemed to have settled down local violence. Until Lotte was murdered.

Eventually Jess headed back to his room to tidy up, but not before stopping at the barber's for a shave and winding up getting a haircut as well, drawing at stinky aftershave. He would now be presentable to Julie at dinner. With a small smile, and shaking his head at himself, Jess personally acknowledged that he might be a little sweet on this gal. Oh, he duded himself up at times, 'specially for a dance, but for just one gal? That hadn't happened often.

It was with a merry bounce in his stride that he strode down main street and into the Hotel, nodding cheerfully to Burkhardt, and then he stopped. "Mr. Burkhardt, I would like to switch to a back facing room. That midnight train was noisy." A minute later, keys were swapped and Jess then moved his stuff to the new room. Less than a minute later, there was a quiet knock on his door. "Yeah?" he answered.

"I have your blankets Mr. Harper, " came a feminine voice from the other side of the room's closed door.

Jess glanced at the bed, there were plenty of blankets there. He loosened the gun in it's holster, put a large smile in his voice and answered, "Door's open come on in." The same maid from the day before, carrying blankets, came in and shut the door behind her. "You expectin' a particularly cold night Miss Millie? I think there're plenty of blankets already here."

Millie blushed, being one of those very fair faced gals that blushed brightly at the slightest provocation. She unceremoniously dropped the blankets on the chair by the bed. "I know, but I had ta make up a reason to speak with ya. So I told Mr. Burkhardt you had complained about being cold tuther night so I could bring ya more blankets."

Jess tilted his head curiously, folded his arms and leaned back against the dresser, "Well you've got me alone, " he said quietly in his warmest baritone.

The girl walked over, looked around conspiratorially, and softly said, "A man done set Mr. Burkhardt to watch your comin' and goin's. And to keep track of who comes to see you. Also a couple of men been hanging aroun' outside and I think they come with the same man as talked to Mr. Burkhardt."

"Know who the man is?" Jess asked.

Millie shrugged, "He works at the Fulton ranch, I don't rightly know his name. But he's the big'un with the dead eyes that always smiles a creepy smile."

Jess nodded unsurprised, "Toby Clarke. Thanks Millie."

The girl blushed happily at the thanks. Apparently getting a 'thank you' was rare in her life. "Mr. Harper, is it true Lotte was killed and you're trying to find out who done it?"

"Yes, it is. You knew Lotte?"

The girl nodded, "Yup. When she and her husband first come to town, she worked here some for their'n room an' board, until their house was fit to live in. That took a few weeks. We got to be friends. Her husband is kinda fun, you know, friendly like but I really liked Lotte. Find her killer Mr. Harper. She deserved better."

Jess felt like rolling his eyes at her description of Kett. Doubtless he had been 'quite friendly like' but he let that pass without comment. Instead he just said, "She surely did, Millie. She surely did." With that, the sweet sixteen departed, though not before favoring Jess with a shy smile accompanied by sidelong admiring look that belonged on the face of a woman a decade older. Jess smiled back at her, only a touch of indulgence in it, as the door closed. Truth to tell, he already had three women on his mind so he had little thought to spare for the youngster. One gal was dead, the second was trying to keep people from being dead, and the third had a romantic interest in the dead woman's husband and an attack dog house keeper standing between her and questions.

Jess stretched out upon the bed for a nap before heading out to dinner. A thought returned, one that had been mosquitoing at him on and off throughout the day. "How had Lotte known that Julie was in danger and that he knew her?" He had never told her that. Oh, Kett knew that he knew her. Jess remembered telling him about her when they reconnected in Ironwood. But Lotte didn't know. Kett must have mentioned it to her. The man loved to gossip with women. It was part of how he charmed them.

So what was bothering him? Some of Alex McKay's words, from Green River, came back, "She had long platinum blonde hair reaching to near her waist…." Jess sat up abruptly. Lotte was a strawberry blonde. She always had been and that was how she died. And her hair wasn't that long, either. Julie had long platinum blonde hair though. Not that long, but sure enough it was straight and platinum blonde. Could she be playing him? To what end? The Texan bolted out of the door, and raced to the telegraph office.

SR SR SR SR SR

"Telegram Alex!" Patrick Murphy, Green River Wyoming's flaming red haired telegrapher caroled as he bounced into the Green River Jail. "It reads pretty urgent, too, and it is from your friend from Laramie." He added as he handed the missive to McKay and bounced back out the door. The greying lawman looked at the message and frowned; "Alex McKay, Green River WY from Jess Harper Bryan WY. Alex: Lotte dead before my arrival. Stop. You sure sender had platinum blonde hair down to butt not strawberry blonde hair? Stop. Really Sure? Stop. Did she have huge feet? Stop. Return message paid for. Stop. Jess."

"Big feet?" Alex McKay said out loud. "Who looks at a beautiful woman's feet?" Green River's Sheriff shut his eyes and could still see the woman. Women that beautiful are easier to remember than to forget. A minute later, he was up and striding towards the telegrapher's office, and two minutes after that he came cruising through the door. "Patrick, I need to send a telegram."

Murphy grinned back at him and handed him a message pad. 'To Jess Harper, Bryan WY from Sheriff Alex McKay, Green River WY' was already filled out. McKay took a pencil, started to write, then looked up. "Pat, that gorgeous woman that sent Harper a telegram, you remember her."

The telegrapher nodded in reply, "Not a woman to forget."

"Did she have really big feet?"

"Alex, what sort of man notices a beautiful woman's feet?" he derisively complained. Then he paused. "No, she didn't. I remember because I noticed her shoes, beautiful things, and I asked her about them. Maggie has a birthday coming up and I knew that she would like them." Maggie was Patrick's much younger sister.

With a nod, Alex turned back towards the message form. Quickly he wrote and handed the missive to Patrick who read it back to him. "Jess: Definitely platinum blonde hair down to her butt. Stop. Definitely no canoes for shoes. Stop. Need me to come up to make identification? Stop. Alex."

"Perfect Pat. Send it."

SR SR SR SR SR SR SR

Jess grumpily ate his restaurant dinner alone. Julie had been called out to a birthing so she had left him a note of apology. The note was a poor substitute for her company. So, he grumbled to himself while eating and considering the facts of Lotte's murder. Another woman had sent the telegram calling him. Obviously, he was meant to find Lotte's body, but why? To avenge Lotte? To ambush him or otherwise get him killed? That last seemed silly; there were easier and better ways for that. Ways that wouldn't result in another gunman, Kett, helping him to stay alive. So no, he was here to avenge Lotte. To kill somebody that he would think had killed his friend. Fulton? The man was the best suspect once those teenage boys spotted him and that word of the note summoning him had gotten out. That note was fishy. He would have to ask the note's messenger about it once Julie found him. She had it narrowed to Isaac or Michael Renfrew. And what if the Jordan boys had been told to be where they were hunting? So he needed to talk to the Jordan boys as well. Tasks for tomorrow.

The sound of a chair being moved at his table broke his reverie and he looked up to see the dead eyed smiling face of Toby Clarke looking at him from across his dinner table. "Howdy Jess. Having a good dinner? Stay away from the chili; no flavor at all."

"Not as good as I'd like Toby. You aren't nearly as pretty as Julie Donovan. Unfortunately, she got called out. Child birth," the Texan replied blandly.

"Well no I aint, and that's a fact. You know Jess, you do fast work. I know a dozen men who have been falling all over themselves to court her and she won't give them the time of day. You been here less than two days…" he shrugged.

"Just lucky. I guess being shot in the head worked on her sympathy. Your bullet?"

Unfazed by the question, Clarke continued smiling. "Nope, a bullet of mine would have stuck."

Jess' gaze went stolid. "What do you want Toby?"

The gunman shrugged, "Just to meet you in a quiet place. Just you and me. We will sort this out, professionally. Say the cemetery at midnight?"

Jess looked at the man coldly, "Calling me out where you won't be seen doing it. Why should I?"

Clarke smiled his empty smile, "'Cuz this way you avoid getting backshot. Or you can just leave town and don't come back. You do that and nobody will bother you. My word on it."

Jess shook his head, "No. Whoever killed Lotte has to pay for it."

Clarke nodded, "Thought you would say that. It's why I first suggested our having a professional meeting."

Jess gave the man a cold smile, "You answer some questions and I will come to your meeting alone. Without the law."

"Sure Jess, I'll answer your questions. You have a deal," the dead eyed man agreed.

Jess knew Clarke well enough to know that he wouldn't blink at lying, but also that he was not a compulsive liar. If he asked the right questions, he would get the truth. "Ok Toby, who hates Fulton enough to want him killed?"

"What?" For once the man's smile disappeared and his cold eyes simply stared. He hadn't expected that question. It hinted that Jess was looking for a different killer and that appeared to be a new thought for the man.

"You heard me."

"Hmm. Not as many as there used to be," he proclaimed grinning wickedly. It was a look that made him look even more predatory than normal. He continued, "The O'Dells don't like him. The Widow DuBois has been screaming for his blood to the lawdogs. There are a coupla fathers and husbands who wouldn't shed any tears. And one of Hardesty's deputies, Finnegan, holds a grudge. Oh, and your buddy Kett, of course." He shrugged, "Zack isn't popular in quite a few quarters."

"Who killed Hardesty and Charles DuBois?" The man's normal mask slipped back into place. "I've no idea. Rumor has it that my boss did it, but, you know, only fools believe rumors."

"Yeah, only fools." Jess figured that was as close to a confirmation as he was going to get on that subject. "Who are the prettiest blonde women in town?"

"Are you kidding me?" The killer exclaimed. "This is a question you want answered?" At Jess' nod he continued with a shrug, "Well, if you live I guess it will save you time. Doc Donovan, of course. And aint a man living wouldn't like to get under the Widow DuBois' skirt. Mrs. Darby would have been right up there, bit late for her. Oh, and I guess the Dahlgren girl, Trixy."

Jess nodded, "Ok, thanks Toby. Now go away. I'll be at the cemetery at midnight if you still want to 'talk'."

SR SR SR SR SR

After Jess finished his meal, he took a walk around town; just being friendly and chatting with folks. His stops included Dahlgren's Mercantile where he talked to Mrs. Dahlgren, and her eldest daughter; a lovely girl named Trixy with hair the gold of ripe autumn wheat, about buying a dress for Julie. No dress changed hands but he did acquire some rope. His final stop was at the Widow DuBois' house where, once again, her attack dog maid ran him off. This time the woman included a threat to set the law after him if he didn't stop coming around. Somehow the Texan contained his terror at the threat. In the end, he returned to the hotel and made certain that Burkhardt saw him go upstairs to his room. There he slept. When he awoke, the cuckoo clock told him it was 11:05. He dressed in the dark, anchored his rope to the bed, and dangled it out of his window. Then he quietly climbed down into the back alley and padded off into the night. Off to his meeting with Clarke.

SR SR SR SR SR

Jess absently looked at himself in the mirror. That was how he had gotten to where he was now; from telegram to nicked ear. He sighed and stepped away from the mirror. He figured that, whoever was behind all of this, they wanted him and Kett to kill Fulton in vengeance for Lotte. Still, why him? Only three folks in town knew of the connections between him, Julie, Kett and Lotte. And he could eliminate himself and Lotte. Why would Kett or Julie include him in this? And Jess couldn't believe either one of them would kill Lotte. Kett was well, an unmentionable, but he wouldn't do great harm to those he was fond of. He made that plain in Ironwood. And Julie? She was no killer, though she WAS a terrible shot- like whoever killed Lotte. And Julie had platinum blonde hair though it was not long enough. A little voice whispered to Jess that she could have cut it but he steadfastly thrust that voice away. That was a stupid notion. In the end, the Texan laid back down. Eventually he fell asleep, treating himself to an eternity of bad dreams.

After he awoke, Jess walked to Julie's place and found that she was still out on the birthing call. it was a misty and gloomy morning that was clearing even as he had returned. So, like dinner, he breakfasted alone. Runny eggs, and limp bacon of suspicious origin didn't improve his humor. Worst of all was the gloomily weak coffee; what he would give for some Mort Corey wake up juice. Funny how a place could put out good food one day and bad the next. Then again, Julie wasn't here and that might have made some difference. Kett Darby found him as he was drearily finishing up.

Kett pulled up a chair and angrily sat in it. He kept watch around the restaurant as if expecting pistoleros to leap out from underneath the tables. "I hear Clarke is dead. Got himself filled with holes over in the graveyard. You ok?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," Jess answered. "He wanted to have a 'professional discussion' with me. I don't think it ended as he planned." Jess sipped a little more sad coffee. "I had a night visitor too. He wound up at the jail. Burkhardt, the hotel owner, was in on it."

Kett snorted, "Fulton is behind it all. He killed Lotte and now he is after you. Let's go end him and all of this."

Jess just looked at him, then quietly said, "No."

"No?" Kett answered in loud surprise.

"No. Turns out Lotte didn't send for me. Somebody else did. I want to know who and why. I think Fulton might be being set up and I don't like being somebody else's tool," the Texan growled. Then grimaced as he mechanically took another sip of bad coffee.

In defensive disbelief, Kett blurted out "It wasn't me."

"I know, you were in Nevada."

"Dr. Donovan? She's the only other one here who knows you," Kett suggested.

"Maybe, but I don't think so. I don't think she knew Lotte at all."

Jess' old companion paused, then admitted, "I don't know that they ever talked, but they might have. And what difference does it make who called for you? You're here, and Fulton murdered Lotte, like he did DuBois and the sheriff. I'm not letting him get away with it. Are you going to help me or not?"

Jess eyed the man, then answered. "I will find out who killed Lotte and they will pay for it. But I want to talk to a few folks before going after Fulton."

Kett pursed his lips then blew out a breath. "Alright, he said grudgingly. I can't get at him at his ranch without your help. Corwyn has taken the railroad men out from backing me. Says he doesn't want me going off halfcocked and that if the law can handle this we will all be better off."

"Corwyn has, has he?" Jess asked in surprise. It was sensible and Jess approved. Good for Corwyn.

Kett spit contemptuously upon the floor, earning himself a harsh look from a waitress. "Yeah, the man is spineless. Fulton isn't getting away with this like he did killing Charles DuBois." With that, Kett Darby got up and left.

Jess watched him go, thinking, 'There goes a train wreck waiting to happen. And I really find it hard to care, after the shenanigans he pulled in Ironwood and then his cheating on Lotte. Heck, there's that DuBois woman popping up again. She is thoroughly a part of this mess and might know some useful things. I really need to talk to her.' Then Jess slapped his forehead and let out a pleased grunt. 'If Kett IS having an affair with her then he can get me past the bulldog door guard. That makes for another visit I need to make.' He sipped his coffee, distantly noting that it really wasn't half bad.

Finished with breakfast, Jess wandered over to the jail in search of Budd Winters. It turned out that the chief deputy, along with all of the other deputies except Finnegan, were off at the Fulton place. "Yup, Budd made me stay and mind the town. He took the rest because the body of a teenage boy was found out there. Murdered. Shot three or four times."

"Fulton reported it?" Jess asked in surprise. Running to the law for help seemed out of character.

Finnegan laughed, "Oh heck no. I reckon Fulton did it. The body was found by Larry Dean. Old Larry likes to hunt and isn't too fussy about who's land he hunts on. He came and told us."

"Got a name for the boy?" Jess asked with foreboding.

"Matter of fact we do. Isaac Renfrew. We were looking for him thinking that he was the one that delivered Fulton the note. You know the one inviting him over to see Mrs. Darby for some mattress dancing. Isaac was one of those boys who isn't really bad, but is always in trouble anyway." Finnegan observed with malicious disinterest.

Jess swore, "Yeah, that was the same reason I was looking for him." He paused, thinking "This smells, and Finnegan is the deputy Clarke tagged has having a grudge against Fulton. And Winters left him here, like he couldn't trust him. Let's try something." Then he said, "Is Larry Dean still around? I need to talk with him."

Finnegan's eyes widened, and he blurted out, "No. He's with Budd. Why?"

Jess saw him pale a little, and smiled. "You know, to find out how much he was paid, and who did so, to move the body onto Fulton's spread…."

Finnegan panicked and went for his gun. Jess leapt, catching the forearm of the deputy's gun arm and shoving it away while landing a huge right to the man's solar plexus. Finnegan responded with a very weak round house, cutting Jess' cheek. Jess finished the action by landing three quick rights while keeping control of his gun arm. The man sagged and Jess plucked away his pistol. Then a quick search revealed a boot knife and a holdout gun. Jess took those as well and drug the gagging, half-conscious man back to the cells. There he locked him into an empty one, despite a couple of offers by solicitous prisoners to 'tend to' the injured man. One look at those vulpine jail birds convinced Jess that Finnegan was not a popular turnkey.

Returning to the front, Jess tended to his cut and mulled over the situation. He now had evidence of a conspiracy to frame Fulton. Still, the rancher might have killed Lotte – the deputy just wanting to 'help the case against him along' a mite. The Texan doubted it, figuring that if that was all that was going on, then he, Jess Harper, would still be at home. No, the deputy was part of a bigger group.

So now what? Jess sat down in Budd Winter's chair and put his feet up on the desk. Then he got up, got himself a big cup of coffee, and returned to his pose. "Much better." He said aloud. He would wait for the lawmen to return. Then he and the chief deputy would have a council of war. Jess trusted his, and Julie's, judgement that Winters was a good man. Together they would plan his next step. His alternative was to go out to the Fulton place and talk to the man…and that would leave the jail unguarded with a crooked and desperate deputy inside. That just seemed to be a bad idea.

SR SR SR SR SR

"If it comes to that we'll use the railroad. We have a route straight to Cheyenne and can have troops here in a day," Budd Winters said to three of his deputies as they came through the jail door. Looking up, he saw Jess with his feet up on his desk, and grinned. "Hey sheriff Harper, the James gang is outside and wants to have a word with you."

Jess made to pull his hat down over his eyes, "Tell'em to come back after my nap." Which caused Winters to laugh. At the laugh, Jess grinned and vacated the chair. "Budd," he said gesturing to a piece of paper on his left, "you've got four folks who want to talk to you about one thing or another. The Barrets sounded the most urgent."

Chief Deputy Winters made a face, "The Barrets always do. They are in here about every third day because they can't get along with each other. It never amounts to much." Two of the other deputies laughed, one being Kevin Barret.

"Finnegan out walking about, Jess? That why you're holding the fort?" Deputy Barret asked.

"No, Kevin. I'm holding the fort because I beat Finnegan up, threw him into a cell, and locked the door," Jess said evenly, then he added, "and I thought I had better tell you all why."

Barret and deputy Johnson started to laugh, until Jess said he wanted to explain it. That brought them up short.

"Best explain yourself quick, Jess," Budd Winters said darkly. He disliked Finnegan, but the man was still one of his own.

"Ok Budd. First, is Larry Dean still around. If so you will want him here."

Winters shrugged but Johnson answered, "I can get him if we need him. He needed to get some salt from Dahlgrens." Budd Winters nodded for him to do so and Johnson left.

"Ok Jess, make it quick," Budd Winters said in a stern voice, not liking this at all.

So Jess did, and at the end the other Deputy present, a man with the misfortune of having the last name of Dog, let out a whistle. Budd Winters shook his head. "Hard to believe Jess. You know Finnegan will deny it and nobody saw it happen."

"I know. Let's see what Dean has to say," Jess said with his usual confidence. Winters nodded with a sigh.

Three minutes later, the office door opened and Larry Dean came in, laughing with David Johnson. "What you need Budd?" the stout but muscled man asked cheerfully. "Good thing you didn't wait to send Dave or I would have been back out hunting."

"Larry, who paid you to move Isaac Renfrew's body?" Winters asked without preamble. His face dark and his voice ominous.

Dean's face went ashen, "Budd, I did no such thing. I just told you where it was, honest. It was already there, I swear. Just like Finnegan said it would be."

"Just like Finnegan said it would be," Jess repeated with a smile.

Budd Winters sighed heavily. "Sit down Dean," he said gesturing at the chair in front of his desk. Then, "Lew, go find out what that idiot Finnegan has to say. But just tell him that Harper has been talking to us. Leave out Dean until I say so." Llewellyn Dog nodded and walked into the back.

Larry Dean immediately spilled everything he knew. It turned out that the only thing that differed from his initial reporting was that he didn't find the body, Deputy Finnegan had told him where it was and paid him $2.00 to ride out, verify that it was there, then to report it to the sheriff's office as finding it himself. He said that Finnegan had explained that if he had reported it, his well-known dislike for Fulton would 'taint the evidence'.

"Larry, you're an idiot," Budd Winters said as he wrote out Dean's story and had him sign it. "Don't leave the area. Judge Crandall might want to yell at you and stick you in the cell for a few days for being stupid and false reporting. Nothing too bad will happen to you. Now skedaddle." And Larry Dean gratefully did.

He turned to Jess, "Ok Jess, I owe you a beer for discovering this and giving it to me. Do you have any thoughts on it?"

Jess nodded. "Alex McKay says that Lotte wasn't the woman who wired me. I think that means that somebody else is around lending a hand in Fulton's frame up. Let's see if we can shake something out of your deputy."

Budd Winters scowled, "He's not a deputy of mine anymore…but yeah, let's see."

Deputy Johnson fetched Lew Dog back in, "Well Jess, it seems you're a wild crazy man. Not to mention a lot of other things that a good Christian boy like me can't repeat," Dog reported with a grin. "Can I go tell him that Dean has come and gone? I bet he changes his tune. Give me five minutes." Budd nodded and the deputy forced a hang dog expression onto his face before going back in.

Budd Winters sighed and shook his head, "Lew enjoys stuff like this way too much. He really should be a city detective and not a frontier law enforcer."

"You figure he'd take a bigger bite out of crime that way, Budd?" Jess said with a hard to maintain stony face.

"No dog jokes Harper. None. I have heard them all way too many times. And Lew is the worst about it. Cross me on this and I'll have him bay under your window all night. He'd do it too," the chief deputy said sternly.

Jess quirked a smile. "I guess growing up, with that name, you either get a sense of humor about it or become a mass murderer."

So they waited for Deputy Dog to return, and five minutes later he was back, grinning. "Budd, I think he's ready to talk to you. I've been giving him advice and I pointed out to him that I had noticed that he went from being broke to having money in his pockets a few weeks back. He really started to sweat then."

"He did, didn't he?" Budd Winters said, temper obviously rising. "Well, you just keep being his pal 'cuz I really couldn't stomach doing that right now."

"Sure boss, glad to," Lew said, but he now sounded serious. The junior deputy turned to Jess, "Jess, stay in the background. This is kinda like a dance and we don't need you messing up the steps. If you can't just listen, then leave." Then, glancing at his boss, he added, "We can tell Harper what we get afterwards, right Budd?"

Budd Winters nodded, "Yeah. But if you can stay quiet, Jess. You can stay. We owe you that much."

Jess nodded, and sat in a chair across the room. Deputies Barret and Johnson excused themselves and went out on patrol. They would hear all about it later. A sweaty and bedraggled Finnegan was brought in and fitted with manacles. Then the grilling started. Six hours later, it was finished and Michael Finnegan was back in his cell, untouched, but feeling much the worse for wear.

SR SR SR SR SR

The sun was beginning to set as Jess knocked on station master Corwyn's door. The Texan had just returned from visiting the Jordan and Darby places. At the Jordan's, he talked to the boys who were only too glad to answer his questions. It turns out that Dennis Corwyn had hired them to watch over the stretch of track by the Kett's and to round up/remove a small group of strays that had become a nuisance to passing trains. So the boys had limited their hunting to that area, and eventually rounded up six strays that the station master paid them 25 cents for each of the beeves they moved out of the area. As a happy bonus, none of those cattle were branded, so they became the Jordan's property. It was a windfall that they could sorely use. Kett was not to be found at his home.

"Come on in!" Corwyn's voice called through the door, "You just caught me." When Jess entered, the man gave him a smile as get hopped out of his chair and started putting on his coat. "Good evening Mr. Harper. What do you need?"

"Evening Corwyn. I have some questions for you," Jess explained brusquely.

"Well ask away, but we have to do it on the run. I have to get home or Kitty will skin me. She has folks coming to dinner tonight. Church folks I think. If you ever marry you will find that your time is no longer your own," he said with a laugh as he headed for the door and held it for the Texan.

Jess followed the tiny many noting that his Bowler looked silly on him. Then again, Bowlers look silly on everyone. "I talked to the Jordan boys. They said you asked and paid them to be out there when they saw Fulton visit the Darby's place," his voice was sour with an edge of accusation.

"I sure did. Those beeves had been making a nuisance of themselves. Had to repair a cow catcher and the rest just wouldn't stay gone. What of it?" He answered. Then he stopped and looked over at Jess. "You think it odd and suspicious?" he asked with a snort. Jess nodded.

He continued with a bit of annoyance, "It was cheaper than sending working me to stand around and wait for them to show up. I didn't pay a thing until they were moved. And have you seen the Jordan place. Those folks could use the extra money. You got another answer, spit it out." He was now looking up at Jess with great truculence….nose about level with the rancher's sternum.

Jess ploughed ahead, "To have some witnesses out there when Fulton went to the Darbys. I think the man is being framed. It's kinda surprising to hear of a new moved railroad manager knowing what local poor folk could use a hand and then things turn out so civically positive…for the railroad. Fulton is your enemy."

Corwyn blew a raspberry in irritation and derision. "Fulton is his own enemy, not mine. He's ruining that ranch of his and will bust before too long…unless he aggravates somebody else enough to kill him. As for keeping track of the local poor folk, I haven't been. But I do have eyes and if I can save my company money while doing some folks a good turn, why not? Still, I can't take credit for picking out the Jordans. Mrs. DuBois heard Stevens, old 97's engineer, complaining to me about the cattle and she suggested hiring the boys. She even pointed them out over in the school yard. Happier?"

Jess pursed his lips. The widow DuBois again. "The widow DuBois, huh? I thought she was in, what's it called where a grieving gal stays hidden at home away from folks to not be pestered?"

Corwyn started walking again, but he still maintained eye contact, "In seclusion?" Jess nodded. "Not hardly. Haven't seen her much the last few days but before that she was around."

Jess pressed on, though without any aggression. "You and her good friends?"

To Jess' surprise the raspberry re-sounded, "Nope. Being short, and worse being principled, I am not what she calls 'a real man.' She likes evil greedy devils who will shower her with gew gaws and use her for eye candy and as a plaything." He paused, "I think DuBois slapped her around some too. Woman like that are very strange."

"Seems kind of odd for her to suggest that you help the Jordans out, doesn't it?" Jess asked intently.

Corwyn stopped, they had reached his front gate, and turned smiling with one side of his face. He snorted and said softly, "Maybe. Then again, maybe she sometimes finds acting human to have a certain novelty value. Good evening." With that the annoyed railroad man went through his gate and walked to his front door, letting himself inside.

Jess stood smiling at the closed front door. "So Corwyn sent the boys out at the widow's direction. And she hates Fulton. I wonder how long and pale the widow's blonde hair is?" he thought. He was glad to hear that Corwyn had been acting on somebody else's suggestion. He liked Corwyn.

"What are you grinning at Cowboy?" A familiar feminine voice, one with just a trace of drawl, asked from beside him.

"Doctor Donovan! Help me," he bawled, weakly putting his hand to his chest and half slumping. "I am so hungry that everything is getting dark around me. Will you take me to where I might have dinner and then watch over me while I regain my strength?"

Her feminine laugh burbled out as she replied, "The sun is going down you ninny. That's why it's getting dark. But I will guide you anyway. Mind, it will cost you. We physicians come high."

"Anything!" he replied, "Just lead me on."

Smiling, Julie took his hand and took him off to a restaurant thinking, "Oh my dear Jess, I have been happily leading you on since you came to my office. Or perhaps it is you leading me on. Whoever it is, let's keep doing it….."

SR SR SR SR SR SR

Corn on the cob, pork stew, corn bread, and baked beans ended with a walk to Julie's place and the pair sitting on the porch swing closer than propriety would have approved. Canoodling was in order this evening. So was talking and Julie told him of her successful, though long, delivery and Jess told her of his discoveries.

"Jess, do you mean to tell me that you still haven't talked to DuBois? For crying out loud. If it had been a 10 foot tall cannibal blocking the door, and a man behind it you wanted to talk to, you would have already been through it five times. But a maid? Jess, just wait for her to leave then go on in. How hard is it to get past her?"

Jess shook his head, "Bracing a man is one thing, Julie. A woman, a GRIEVING woman, is entirely different…"

She shook her platinum mane violently. "Let's go there this minute and talk to her. Then maybe you can figure this mess out." With that she was off of the porch swing and pulling him along. "Grieving!" she continued. "She's been 'shaboinking' your friend Kett for weeks."

"Shaboinking?" Jess asked, eyebrows upraised.

She shook her head, "It's a medical term."

She marched Jess across town, with only a brief stop at the sheriff's office. Eventually they arrived at the DuBois house, where several lights burned brightly. Julie banged the door knocker twice. Waited. Then banged it three more times. Jess stood to the side, out of the line of sight to the door. Some moments passed and a vexed female voice called down from an upstairs window, "It's late. Who is it?"

"Dr. Donovan, Mrs. DuBois. It's urgent." Then she paused, eventually adding, "And it's not that late. Barely 9:00."

"Doctor, I am already abed," at this point Julie thought she might have heard the sound of a masculine snort from above, but she wasn't sure, "Certainly this can wait."

The voice was beginning to sound vaguely familiar to Jess. Someone from his past. Suddenly Jess saw a wicked smile blossom on Julie Donovan's lovely face. She gave him a wink that he could barely see in the dimness, "I'm afraid that it is so urgent that unless we speak inside, I will be reduced to shouting up to you advice on birth control and sexually transmitted diseases. It would be easier if you just let me in."

Jess looked at the creature he stood by, only now realizing that he was in love with her, with speechless horror. She patted his arm and whispered, "Don't worry Jess, she's no lady. Or even a woman." She paused then bitterly added, "For that matter, maybe not even a human. Men are such idiots to be taken in by her looks." Above, he heard angry female muttering, and while he couldn't make out what exactly was being said, he knew that it included profound and sincere swearing.

Eventually, there was an answer, "Oh, all right. I will be down in a minute." And the window slammed shut.

Jess whispered back to her, "This isn't going to make her cooperative."

"What made you think she might be cooperative? If she wanted to help you, Jess, she already would have. Not hid out in her house." She sighed, gave him an unexpected and very warm kiss, and added, "Darling, you really need to see how women act when men aren't looking." She ruined the effect by giggling.

It was then that the door slammed open and Jess saw the robed back of a woman with long platinum blonde hair storm deeper into the house without so much as looking out of the door. Jess waved an 'after you' gesture at the good doctor and then followed her in. He paused for a 20 count, by which time he was alone in the foyer and hearing the tones of two women locked in politely icy conversation. It came from the lit room directly ahead. He moved to join them.

"So what is so important that it couldn't wait until tomorrow?" the waspish but vaguely familiar female voice demanded.

Jess could hear the sweet smile in Julie's voice as she answered, "Oh I have little to say, myself. But my companion has some questions." And on cue, Jess stepped into the room.

It was a large room, a high-ceilinged place, with a second floor balcony wrapped around it's perimeter. The great space was over filled with uncomfortable but pretty furniture, a grand piano in the center, and great ugly portraits scowled down from all of the walls. Julie stood to Jess' right and the lovely widow DuBois stood by the piano. She was as Alex McKay had described her. A beautiful face with gorgeous brilliant blue eyes. Silky platinum blonde hair falling to her waist in glorious disarray. Long lovely legs and arms. Flawless skin. And feet of a size not to require canoes for shodding. And all just barely hid by a scanty robe. Jess recognized her in a heartbeat.

"Laurel DeWalt. No wonder you didn't want to see me," he growled. "Now I understand what is going on around here."

The lovely face frowned contemptuously at him for a moment, then returned to a forced serene look. "Laurel DuBois, I remarried. Hello Jess, I had no idea that you were in town. What are you doing here?" She slowly, casually, moved to put the piano between herself and her visitors.

Jess looked from side to side, always keeping the woman in his sight. "I can see that, wealthy like DeWalt. They a lot alike?"

She frowned, "No, they were nothing alike. Charles was a real man. Arnold DeWalt isn't."

Jess cocked his head, "I heard he died. My condolences."

She bowed her head a moment, shutting her eyes, then she reopened them. "What do you want Jess? You didn't force your way in here to give me your sympathy." Then she smiled at him, "Or have you decided that we should get back together?" A look of something approaching constipation crossed Jess' face, while Jullie's eyes narrowed and Laurel laughed, "Don't flatter yourself. You had a chance for both me and wealth, but that passed." She raised her voice slightly, "I have a real man, don't I Kett?"

A male voice laughed, and a dressed and armed Kett stood forward from a hallway entering the upper balcony. "Evening Jess, Dr. Donovan," he said with a smile. "Yes Laurel. I'm your man." He turned to Jess, "Sorry I held out on you on who Laurel was, partner, but she's afraid of you and I figured you didn't like her. No harm done."

Jess snorted, "No harm? I have a witness who can identify Laurel as being the one who wired me. Didn't she get you to tell her all about Julie and me? And you and me?" The Texan crossed the room to the far side of the piano so as to be able to face his old partner. Laurel retraced her steps to keep the piano between herself and Jess.

Kett shook his head, "Jess, what does that have to do with Lotte? The two weren't friendly," he blushed at Julie's snort, "but she didn't have her killed. Why should she?"

Quickly Laurel spoke up, striking a pose to show Kett her best profile, "Of course not dearest. You already won my heart, and we were leaving for a happier place. And we still will, once you avenge Lotte. I'm a jealous woman, but I understand that you won't be able to rest until you do that. You must kill Fulton."

Kett turned pale as she spoke, and he finally nodded. "I did poorly by Lotte, she was a good woman who did right by me. And she loved me. But she wasn't the one for me, you are Laurel. But I owe Lotte that much, so that she can rest.

"Con sarn it, Kett! Can't you see it?" Jess growled, vexed. "Laurel killed Lotte and tried to frame Fulton with it so that either the law, or you, would kill him for her. That is why she telegraphed me. She figured that, Lotte being a friend I owed a debt to, I would help you kill Fulton to avenge her. The man who killed her husband- her 'real man!' Think about it."

Kett looked at the three people below him, fingering his gun. Then he shook his head, "Doesn't fit Jess. How could Laurel know that Lotte would send for Fulton when I left for Carson City. She would have to know that to have Fulton seen at the house."

Julie then spoke, "Kett, was Lotte a faithful girl?"

Kett flinched, then shook his head, and in a shame pained voice answered, "No she wasn't. I thought she was. I always thought she was. But Fulton had her message. Showed it all over his place as he rode out. She had found out about Laurel and I and she lost it. My fault. All my fault. Jess, I never wanted anything bad to happen to her."

"Kett," Jess said quietly, "Isaac Renfrew is dead. Killed by Deputy Finnegan."

"What? So? Who is Renfrew?" He asked in confusion.

Laurel was now the one to pale and Jess continued before she could speak. "He was the one who delivered the note to Fulton. He knew who sent that note Kett, and it wasn't Lotte. It was Laurel. Laurel paid Finnegan to kill him and to plant the body on Fulton's spread. More 'evidence' for you, me and the law. I caught him at it and he confessed to most of it, including to being paid off by the witch over there." Jess ended with a hand gesturing at Laurel.

"That's a lie, Harper," the Widow DuBois bleated, but her eyes looked desperate.

Kett stood still, silently processing all that he had heard. Then he let out a snarl, put his hand on the balcony balustrade and vaulted over it. He landed, off balance, both feet on the piano sounding a violent crack as its lid split through the entire length. The surprisingly agile Kett gave a little hop down and regained his balance as he landed on the floor. "You conniving….all along you were setting me up. Finnegan was to catch me killing Fulton, wasn't he? And you killed innocent Lotte after seducing me!" He turned to Jess, "Jess is she truly THAT cold blooded?"

As Jess answered, "Like a rattlesnake," Laurel lunged and pulled a small revolver from behind the sheet music on the piano. Quickly she fired off four shots. The first hit Kett in his left shoulder, knocking him down, and the other three flew harmlessly about the room. Laurel was truly an awful marksman, her shooting as bad today as when she had killed Lotte. Jess slapped leather, hesitating a moment at the revulsion he felt at shooting a beautiful woman- even Laurel. That hesitation gave the evil wench the opportunity to bolt into the foyer towards the front door, an armoire blocking Jess' shot at her. Pulling a concealed pistol even smaller than Laurels, Julie blazed away at the evil creature with righteous fury…but only killed two portraits and a decorative spittoon. The good doctor was an even a worse shot than Laurel.

The widow pelted through the entrance room, and blazed through the open doorway…until an ankle caught the darkness camouflaged cord strung across it several inches above the ground. With a cry and a resounding belly flop, she crashed into the wooden porch then bounced down the front steps and lay stunned on her cobble stoned walkway. Her pistol was lost somewhere in the night. Blood streamed from her broken nose and two front teeth and her left wrist stuck out at a crazy angle. A figure stepped out from by the door, holstered his gun and called back over his shoulder, "Doc Donovan, I've got some work for you out here."

Julie Donovan smiled at the voice, "Deputy, can it wait a minute? Kett Darby has been shot. Though I don't think he is badly hit."

Lew Dog grinned back and shouted back, "Take your time. She's got no place to be in a hurry. I do believe we can get her for attempted murder…if nothing else. A jury will have to decide on your evidence on Mrs. Darby's murder, but she sure as the world tried to kill at least one of you. Darby I suppose."

A minute later, Deputy Barret came around from where he had been covering the back door as Dog used rope to hobble and to restrain the still stunned widow's arms. He handed Dog a dollar, "Ok you win, I thought for sure she would head out the back to her stable."

Dog laughed his easy laugh, "That would require thinking. I just bet on the closest exit."

SR SR SR SR SR

"Whoa," the fully washed Jess called out bringing the wagon to a gentle stop outside of the doctor's office in Laramie.

"You know," Slim said archly as he agilely dismounted from the wagon seat onto his good leg, "I could have driven myself and gotten the supplies. You didn't have to come. Especially since I'll be rid of the cast on the way back."

"Well Pard, it just seemed to me that you shouldn't take any chances. Driving the wagon is work enough with two good legs, much less with a casted one," the dark haired cowboy said as he tethered the horses. "Besides, Julie impressed upon me the importance of regular doctor visits. She said my health would suffer I didn't keep coming in regular like." They both laughed at that.

As Slim hobbled to the doctor's office door, Jess called over to him, "Slim, I'll join you in a minute. I'm going to go pick up the mail." Slim nodded at him cheerfully, then entered the building. Jess walked across the street to the post office and picked up half a dozen letters. It was a lot for the Sherman Ranch but their mail had picked up recently. He noted three from the railroad (they were coming to Laramie and the Sherman Ranch was going to have a water stop for them), one from Overland (they were mad about the railroad water stop but not mad enough to close the Relay Station since the ranch possessed the only open water between Cheyenne and Laramie), one from Slim's Aunt Ella and one from Lew Dog in Bryan. He opened, and was reading, Lew's letter outside of the doctor's office when he heard a familiar teasing feminine voice. "Why Mr. Harper, do you want me to examine you out here? Or have you suddenly gotten shy?"

He looked up from the letter with a smile, "Just getting the mail. I dropped Slim off so that you could perform unmentionables on him and I wouldn't have to hear his screams of pain." She slapped him playfully on the arm. Dr. McFadden was Slim's regular doctor as the rancher was shy about disrobing to let her examine him. Marcy Benson's influence upon him had made his reluctance ten times worse. "Got a letter from the Law Dog," Jess announced.

"Oh? What does Lew have to say?" she asked, curiously.

"Well, he's still taking a bite out of crime. And, they hung Finnegan for the Renfrew boy's murder. Also, Laurel DuBois was transferred to the Territorial prison," Jess relayed.

"Bet she's been working hard on her captors. Hanging her would have been more suitable but I suppose that a cage will just have to do," the generally peaceable woman opined sourly. "Judge Crandall was really annoyed when that jury returned hung on Lotte Darby's murder. You men are such fools for a full bodice. You can hang a man, Finnegan, on weak evidence but give you a woman, especially a blonde with big gedoinkers…"

Jess interrupted, "Gedoinkers?"

"Yes, Gedoinkers. It's a medical term. With big gedoinkers present men's judgement gets all soft and stupid. Well, not soft. Weak and stupid," she amended. "Being blonde and having ample gedoinkers myself, I know the truth of it firsthand." She paused, then went on. "It's called ' the Gedoinker effect' and you can find it well documented in law and medical journals."

"Well, they overcame her gedoinkers enough to find her guilty on the three attempted murder charges," Jess allowed. "The judge gave her 10 years without parole on each charge. To be served consecutively. I thought her lawyer was going to have a heart attack when he pronounced it," Jess said with satisfaction.

The doctor shook her head, "Only because they knew that the judge couldn't hang her. They'd have deadlocked again if he could have. Mark my words."

"Back to the letter. Lew also says that Dennis Corwyn thinks that the railroad will eventually have to move most of it's stuff out of Bryan. The Blacks fork river looks to be undependable in droughts. They're looking at going to Green River."

"So Dennis told me. That brings up something, Jess. My dear, I am going to open up a practice in Green River." She paused, taken aback by his stricken look of surprise. Then her eyes widened, "No, Jess, no. I am not leaving you again," She urgently added as she brought up her hand and displayed for him the ring, on its second finger. The ring he had given her with such trepidation. "I take this seriously. Very seriously. The railroad will run through both Laramie and Green River. The towns won't be four hours apart. I'm going have practices in both. At least until Jim McFadden retires."

A whipsawed and relieved Jess caught the ring hand and kissed it. The five gem stones on it flashed in the sunlight. Jelly Opal, Heliotrope, Jelly Opal, and a small diamond circling a larger diamond on a gold ring. In the style of the times, it meant: Jess Harper, Juliet Donovan, together forever. At least that is what the jeweler in Cheyenne had said and Slim said that the man knew his business. The ring had set Jess back a parcel, but the rail road had been quite generous in their dealings with the ranch. He could afford it.

"There's good cheap land there." Jess commented. "We might pick some up for a second spread. We'll see. Either way, I expect I'll be spending a lot of time on the train with you, Mrs. Harper."

"Indeed so, Mr. Harper. We'll use sleeping cars," she said practically. After all, Julie Donovan Harper was a very practical woman.

The End.

Authors note: The odd title of this tale, Betrayers run in Shadows, comes from words borrowed from the titles of the episodes that the core non-regular cast of characters were featured. The interested reader is directed to these episodes, listed below, if they want to see how they originated. I am particularly taken with "Men in Shadows."

Run to Tumavaca – Season 1 Episode 9. Gena Rowlands plays Laurel DeWalt (the widow DuBois in the current tale).

Men in Shadows – Season 2 Episode 31. Joan Tabor plays Julie (Dixie Howard's long time girlfriend).

The Betrayers – Season 4 Episode 16. Adam West plays Kett Darby and Kathie Browne plays Lotte. Note: Imdb has Kathie Browne's character listed as Lorrie but if you watch the episode she is called Lotte.

Historical note- The Blacks fork river dried up in a drought and the rail road moved to Green River. The latter town thrived and Bryan Wyomming is now a ghost town.

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