Chapter 9
Ada rode into town alone and drew as little attention to herself as possible. She'd allowed her blond hair to fall free from the tattered brown felt hat she always wore then pulled her plaid shirt tail out from her pants and tied the ends together around her waist to emphasize her feminine proportions. She went directly to the stable she'd used during her previous brief stay.
"Mr. Burgess!" Ada called as she entered. The young woman jumped down from the big bay as a middle-aged man with a short scruffy beard appeared from one of the stalls behind her.
"Well Miss Ada!" He gave her a big smile. "What're you doing back here? We didn't know where you went when you just up and left like that."
"I'm sorry Mr. Burgess." She put on her sweetest girly smile and a soft Texas drawl. "Someone came around who I didn't wanna chance running into. I hope ya found the money I left to cover this guy's board."
"I sure did. You planning t' leave him here again?"
She handed over the reins and removed the saddlebags. "I'll be back in a while. I'm gonna see if I can get my old job back."
Ada left the livery and walked along the dusty street lined with rundown bars and an occasional general mercantile or gunsmith store. She stopped outside the Santa Fe Salon and took a big breath before entering.
The owner of the saloon, Ed Baine, was standing behind the bar. There was no mirror and no bottles displayed on glass shelves as there were in Dodge City's Long Branch Saloon. Even the bar itself consisted of a length of roughly hewn wood that had been partially smoothed on its uppermost surface. It was supported on a row of empty barrels.
He looked up at her and she couldn't help but notice that his mustache was even more unkempt than when she'd last seen him. His shirt looked to be the same one he was wearing a week or more ago and almost certainly hadn't been laundered. The whole place was filthy but the few customers hanging around the bar didn't seem to be aware of any of that.
"So you decided to come back." Baine said. Ada wasn't sure whether it was a question or a statement. His words were slurred anyway, as if he'd been consuming almost as much alcohol as his patrons.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Baine." Ada put on a suitably contrite demeanor. "I had to leave in a hurry, someone was looking for me. They're planning to kill me so I couldn't hang around."
Baine didn't even try to look sympathetic. He wiped the sleeve of his well-worn shirt across his mustache and removed some of the froth that had accumulated there from the beer he'd been drinking.
"I wondered if I could have my job back" she asked apologetically.
Baine came around from behind the bar and stood far too close to her. She could smell several kinds of liquor on his breath.
"What's it worth to you?" He had a leer on his face that almost made her shiver.
She flashed her eyes at him. "I'll have to think about that, Mr. Baine." She turned on her heel and walked towards the door. His raucous belly laugh followed her.
Ada walked across the street to the Scarlet Joker. It was where she needed to be anyway. The owner wasn't around but she easily recognized Hicks, the gambler who Miranda had spoken about. He was sitting at a small table in a dark corner of the saloon, playing solitaire.
She decided to take the bull by the horns. Matt wouldn't be content to wait for more than a day or two so she had to get things moving quickly.
She walked boldly to the table where Hicks was sitting.
"Hello, Mr. Hicks. My name's Ada Wittner - she used the name that the owner of the Santa Fe Saloon had known her by. I've heard you can help people who are in trouble." She spoke quietly which necessitated her getting uncomfortably close to him.
"Who's been telling you that?" he asked, standing up and inviting her to sit across the table from him. At least he had some manners.
"I heard it rumored around town. I kinda need help real bad, and I don't know where else to turn. I'm getting desperate."
She was trying to play the part of a scared young woman with no one else to turn to. It could be dangerous but somehow they had to get to "The Maestro" soon. Tom's death demanded it.
Hicks smiled at her - it wasn't a pleasant sight. He had at least one front tooth missing and the remaining ones were yellow with tobacco stains. His eyes were cold - never smiling. "We can't talk here. How about coming to my room later tonight? I'm staying at the boarding house behind The White Buffalo Pool Hall."
"Oh I couldn't do that, Mr. Hicks. I'm trying to get a job here - so how about I meet you out back of this place in an hour or so?"
Hicks looked at her more closely then asked, "Didn't you work at the Santa Fe?"
"Yes, I did," she nodded, then looked around before continuing. "I had to leave in a hurry - someone is out to kill me, that's why I came to ask you for help."
She looked around the saloon. It was a little cleaner than the Santa Fe, but that wasn't saying much.
"I guess I need a job too," she continued, " Mr Baine won't give me my old job back so maybe I could work here. Do ya know who runs this place?"
"I'll see what I can do for you." Hicks replied. He gave her that smile again - it was less offensive than last time. She tried to return it because she needed him to be convinced of the story she was about to tell.
()()()
Later that night Ada waited out back of the Scarlet Joker Saloon. She'd got a room at the only boarding house in town that was considered remotely safe for a woman alone. Not that she needed any help protecting herself, but it did give her the appearance of vulnerability that she needed to impress Hicks.
She stood outside the back door of the saloon, smelling the stale cigar smoke and alcohol fumes that flowed out into the small fenced storage area. Eventually light from lamps burning inside the building flooded the space around her as Hicks opened the door and stepped outside.
"You'd better be quick and tell me what's going on young lady. I'll tell you upfront that if I can arrange to help, it will cost you."
"I don't have a lot of money, Mr. Hicks"
"I know that." He drew closer to her, and she did her best not to pull away as his hands slid under her shirt and explored her shoulders.
She managed to sidestep him a little, only just in time to prevent his mouth from closing in on her lips.
"I need to know that you will help me first," she managed to gasp.
He hesitated a minute and then stepped back from her enough that she could breathe again.
"Have you heard of Clay Griffin?" she asked.
"Most people have."
"He's gonna kill me."
Hicks laughed as if this was the biggest joke he'd ever heard.
"Who would hire a man with a reputation like him to kill someone as unimportant as you? Clay Grifffin don't come cheap, ya know."
"If I tell you what happened, you mustn't let on to anyone else."
He moved closer to her and slid his arm around her waist, then she became aware of his fingers of his other hand pushing her hair aside as he spoke softly into her ear.
"I'll decide who to tell. I'm really interested in this Clay Griffin."
His breath was warm and reeked of cheap whisky. Ada was used to dealing with men like Hicks and stood her ground for a moment before backing away from him.
"I don't know if I should tell you. I was warned not to speak to anyone about it until after he's in jail."
"You can tell me," Hicks persisted in what passed for his persuasive voice.
"I was the only witness to a murder," she started reluctantly. "A Pinkerton agent's son was killed and the company is doing everything it can to find the man responsible." That part of the story was true and had been in the newspapers so maybe Hick's had read about it - at least he could check it out if he wanted to. What supposedly followed had been invented by her and Matt the night before.
They'd agreed that Clay Griffin would be a good hired gun for Matt to impersonate. Griffin had the reputation of being fast, ruthless and would take on any job for the right money. He had no qualms about killing a woman and would probably kill his own mother if the price was right. He'd been a man with a price on his head for over a year when Matt had finally tracked him down a month or two ago. The killer had been hiding out in a small town near the Republican River. It seemed unlikely that Yarborough had ever met Griffin since most of his jobs had been north of the Cimarron. He was also a man who kept very much to himself, usually making his deals through a third party.
Matt never told her how he came to arrest a man like Clay but he thought word wouldn't have reached Oklahoma Territory yet. He hoped the hired gun's reputation would be of interest to a man like Yarborough. A ruthless, efficient killer would be a good asset to the Maestro's organization.
The gambler was speaking again and Ada's attention came back to the present.
"So why would that make Clay Griffin interested in killing a saloon girl like you?" Hicks had a way of referring to any woman in a demeaning tone - especially those who worked in saloons. His manner was designed to make her feel small and insignificant and Ada had to pull herself back to avoid responding by punching him in a place that would do most damage.
"He's the killer." She spoke in a soft, almost apologetic voice that was designed to convince the gambler of her vulnerability.
He turned away from her as if considering the information. Then suddenly getting an idea he spun back and grasped her wrist. Again she had to subdue her natural reflexes.
"I have to go back to work now. I do have some friends who might be able to help…but…" he reached out with his other hand and ran his fingers through her blond hair. He finished up by cupping her chin and lifting her face so she couldn't help but look at him.
"You come by my room in an hour or so and we'll… talk …about this some more. Then I'll see what I can do."
TBC