Four Days From Pueblo

Chapter 11

Welcome Back Rafe

The Dodge City grapevine was already buzzing about the big-shot railroad man that had just got into town. Rumor had it he was looking for the marshal, to talk to him about a missing employee.

The image in the mirror, staring back at the handsome man, searched its memory for a name. Before Neivens, he had killed that man in Tucson—and become Cliff Donders. In Albuquerque, he was resurrected as Jobe Killey. A smile took the corner of his mouth upward when he remembered being Crick Parsons, way back in Carson City. He dug even deeper, searching for his given name; it would serve until he could latch onto another new identity.

He turned again to the face in the mirror. "Well, Rafe Bronson…. Welcome back."

Dodge had been a little disappointing. With all the correspondence between Neivens and Kitty Dillon, he'd banked on his ability to worm his way into her life quickly. Of course, the letters never mentioned a husband—and not just any husband, but a U.S. Marshal. That did sour things a bit; although, she had made good cover for him, while he entertained himself with those other ladies. Still, he hated to leave one alive. That just kind of stuck in his craw.

Rafe threw most of Neivens' belonging into the dead man's carpetbag. He strapped the latch shut and tossed the whole thing into the corner of his hotel room. The rest, he placed into his bedroll, then headed down to Grimmick's stable.

"Moss, could you get my horse ready? I'm going to be leaving town." Rafe handed his roll to the old man. "Pay ya a little extra to pack this."

Moss took the bedroll and nodded. "Did you get your business all done?"

"Didn't quite work out like I planned." His answer was honest, but misleading. Just as he was about to leave, he saw something familiar. "Is that Kitty Dillon's buggy?"

Grimmick cast a glance over his shoulder. "Yeah. She rode in with Doc Adams. I think she's over at the jail. Did you have more railroad business with her?"

Rafe's smile was slow in coming, but once it arrived, it clearly displayed the man's excitement. "Now that you mention it, I do have one more piece of business to settle with her." He gave Moss a nod and turned to leave.

DODGECITYJAILDODGECITYJAIL

Kitty poured out that nasty black liquid that Matt somehow called coffee. She then cleaned out the pot, which by the looks of it was probably a virgin washing. She scooped in an acceptable amount of grounds and soon the office was filled with an enticing aroma. A proud smile crossed her lips when she thought about how pleased her marshal was going to be.

For a few minutes she contemplated sweeping out the office, but that might just be the start of a bigger job than she was prepared to take on. No, the coffee would be enough. She took a seat behind Matt's desk and began to straighten up the scattered papers.

Kitty sat, going through the wanted posters, studying each depraved face. She was so absorbed in the descriptions and crimes, that she jumped when someone tapped on the window. A weary breath escaped when she recognized Shayne Neivens. He hadn't been able to explain why, at least not to her satisfaction, but the railroad had reexamined the specs and decided against the acquisition.

For a moment, she thought about ignoring him, but on second thought figured it wasn't his fault that the Kansas Pacific Railroad changed their minds. Opting to be a gracious loser, she crossed the room and slid back the bolt to grant him entrance. "Shayne, what brings you by today?"

Kitty failed to notice the man's quick scan of Front Street before he stepped into the jail. "I have good news, actually." Shayne quickly closed the door behind him. Being here was risky at this point, but the thought of leaving this woman untouched was more than he could bear. "The railroad realized their mistake and have now agreed to the purchase."

Kitty whirled around so quickly, that Shayne had to reach out to steady her. "Really? They did?" She could feel her heart pounding with excitement. Maybe her hard work had paid off after all. "When…when can we close the deal?"

"Right now! Let's go over to the land office and get the papers signed and registered." He gave her forearm a gentle tug. The eagerness in his voice was genuine, it just originated from a different source.

Bright blue eyes sparkled with excitement only momentarily, before reality set in. Kitty had promised Doc that she would stay in the jail and he was already upset with her for tricking him. "I think I should wait until Doc gets back."

Rafe had been at this game for a long time and knew exactly how to mask his anxiousness with a cool outer façade. "We're only going down the street. You can keep an eye on the jail and when you see Doc coming, we'll come back." He applied the faintest bit of pressure as he pulled her toward the door. "Kitty, we really need to get this deal signed, before they change their minds again."

She wasn't as skilled at hiding her apprehension. Kitty chewed on the corner of her lip, while blue eyes darted around the small room. "Well, I suppose if I watch for him from across the street..."

"Of course we can." He applied just enough pressure to get her to move out onto the boardwalk. With a quick glance at the empty street, Rafe hustled her toward the land office. Unlike his innocent prey, the bogus railroad man had seen the marshal and a very small gathering in front of the clinic when he came from the Dodge House.

MKMKMKMKMKMKMK

Calleigh pulled her buggy up to rail in front of the jail. Before going down to the clinic to lock up for the day, she was going to try to get her dad to take her over to the Prairie Rose for a piece of pie and cup of coffee. She tossed the reins over the post and rushed into the old office.

The moment of disappointment in discovering an empty room, quickly vanished beneath the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Her small button nose pointed upward, pulling in the intoxicating scent. "Who learned how to make coffee?"

On second thought, who made it really didn't matter. She snatched a cup from the top of the safe, poured, then impatiently blew into the hot liquid. The first taste was not disappointing. Calleigh hoisted herself up onto her dad's desk, facing the window.

Newly was going to be upset that she had driven back from the McGregor farm alone. When he left her at the clinic, she had promised to keep the door locked when she was alone and she had done just that. The problem came when Pud McGregor came pounding on the clinic door, that his pa had fallen off the top of the barn and couldn't get up. Mostly, it had just knocked the wind out him. He was going to be sore for a couple of days, but luckily, nothing was broken.

For just a split second, Calleigh considered asking Pud to ride back into town with her. But, as she took a closer look at the bucktoothed, gangly teenager, she figured he would probably need more protecting than she would, if trouble crossed their path.

She was thumbing through the stack of posters, when the heavy wooden door opened. Calleigh slid off the desk, her hand cautiously drifting close to her gun.

The man's face was unfamiliar, but his wardrobe screamed dude. He was a portly man with chubby cheeks that reminded Calleigh of a squirrel storing food for the winter. Connecting the two cheeks was a pencil-thin moustache, with a matching goatee. The young woman was surprised when she stood up, to see he wasn't more than a couple of inches taller than she was.

"May I help you?" Calleigh had listened to the lectures from every man at the LadyK and Double O, about trusting no one until the murderer was caught—and she really did pay attention, but somehow she just couldn't picture this little man killing all those women.

"My name is Ralph Cornelius. I'm the C.E.O. of Kansas Pacific Railroad." He paused, seemingly puzzled by the young lady with a gun. "Are you… Kitty Dillon?"

"No. I'm her daughter." She moved her hand from the safety of her gun and reached out to shake his hand. "Dr. Calleigh O'Brian." She could see his brows draw together, as he stared at her sidearm. "I go into some pretty isolated parts of the countryside. It's best to be prepared." He seemed completely satisfied with her explanation. " This must be about the land purchase that my mother—Mrs. Dillon—put together?"

"It is; but my purpose today is actually twofold." He paused for a moment to inhale the lingering aroma. "I just got off the stage and…well, I wonder if I could get a cup of that?" Calleigh quickly obliged his request, as he continued with his story. "I am here to find out what is impeding the sale. We would like to close this transaction as soon as possible. And…I also seemed to have lost a field agent."

She handed the railroad executive the cup, which he so gratefully accepted. "That would be Shayne Neivens?"

"Yes. You've met him?" He offered a satisfied smile as he took another drink of the coffee.

"Briefly. My mother introduced us. You say he's missing?" Calleigh motioned for him to have a seat. She quickly decided it would be more professional to sit behind her dad's desk than on top of it.

Cornelius squirmed around in the hardback chair, searching for a comfortable spot. "The last time I heard from him, he was planning on leaving Pueblo, to come to Dodge. Neivens had been corresponding with Mrs. Dillon for several weeks and it should only have taken a day, two at most, to get all of the paperwork done."

Calleigh's curious nature peaked at those words. With a single word, she expressed her suspicions. "Really?" So maybe Poppy was right and all those lunch dates and drives out to check out the proposed site, weren't on the up-and-up. She struggled to keep the mischievous grin at bay. "Well, he does cut quite a handsome figure. Maybe he found other interests while here in Dodge."

The stout, middle-aged man stared at Calleigh again, with a strange mix of curiosity and doubt. "Neivens? Handsome?" Giant, round eyes peered over the top of his wire-rim glasses.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply any misconduct on his part. I just meant, he is an attractive man and-"

Cornelius held up his hand to stop her. "Shayne Neivens has worked for me for almost fifteen years. He's a devoted employee. He's conscientious, reliable…I could go on, but the one thing he is not…is handsome." He paused and his tone became troubled. "What does your Shayne Neivens look like?"

This unexpected turn in the conversation caused a chill to ripple down the young woman's spine. There was scarcely a trace of her grin as she rose slowly from the chair and eased her way around to the front of the desk. "About thirty-five. Tall, muscular build, black… curly…hair-" The skeptical expression on the railroad man's face, caused her to hesitate. "That's not him …is it?"

"No ma'am. Shayne is not more than five-six. By standards out here, I guess you would call him a 'milquetoast'." Now, it was his turn to pause, as he watched the color drain from the young doctor's face. "And… he's as bald as a billiard ball."

"Oh my gosh!" Calleigh's blue eyes flashed wide. "The sixth man!"

TBC