Emma bent down, scooped up a new portion of earth and threw it back. But then her shovel rested on something hard.
— Looks like we found it. — Emma said. — Graham, give me a crowbar.
Graham stood on the edge of a pit, a grave in fact. Emma remembered the place where the guy was buried and brought Graham to dig him up. Somewhere deep in the subconscious, the thought flashed that in vain: he had nothing left with him. Still, Emma wanted to make sure.
Come on, sheriff. Graham jumped into the grave. It was shallow, the guy was just waist-deep.
Graham lifted the lid with a crowbar and opened the coffin.
— Hey, what are you doing there? — They heard a voice.
Emma and Graham turned their heads in unison — Rumpel stood a meter from the grave. The man stood leaning on a cane.
— Oh. Are you the sheriff? — The man smiled shyly. — Ah… what are you doing there?
— Investigative activities. - The young girl replied. — Why are you here?
— I went to the city. Look, someone is digging. I thought, well ... suddenly marauders ... And this is you of both.
— And this is us. — Graham answered and climbed out of the grave. — Where did you go?
— So in the city, right next to it. — Rumpel pointed behind him. — For a new batch of alcohol.
While Graham distracted Rumpel, Emma searched through the guy's clothes and found only a piece of paper. She looked at him with a frown, slipping the paper back into her pocket and putting the lid back on. Also got out of the grave.
— So you're with the wagon, Rumpel? — Emma asked. — Will you give me a lift to the city?
— Of course, sheriff. — Rumpel fussed. — Do not doubt.
— Bury it again. — Emma turned to Graham. — I'll be at Rumpel's bar.
— Okay, sheriff.— Graham nodded and picked up a shovel.
Graham brushed his clothes off the ground and entered the bar. Emma sat at a table in the very corner, a half-empty bottle in front of her. The guy walked over and plopped down into a nearby chair. A small cloud of dust rose from it. He poured himself a glass and raised it to his mouth.
— That's her. — Said Emma gloomily. — "Queen."
— What are you about? — Graham said in bewilderment and after drinking a glass, he poured himself another.
— About a black guy. It was she who killed him and took my "things". She plays with me.
— Why do you think so? — Graham nearly choked on his drink.
Emma took from her pocket a piece of paper that she found in the dead boy's clothes and threw it on the table. It had a crown on it.
— That's why she robbed that particular train! — Emma tossed another glass down angrily. —She knew exactly what to look for. Where?
Graham, who had poured himself another glass, almost spilled it all over himself with his eyes wide open.
— You don't think I had anything to do with it, sheriff? — he wondered.
— Not. I do not think. — Emma shook her head and suddenly looked at him with a smile. - Why do you keep calling me "sheriff"? Why don't you call my name? We've known each other for a very long time! You fallen in love, or what?
— Well… ahem. — Graham chuckled uncertainly.— You are a beautiful, sheriff.
— It's clear.— Emma's eyes twinkled.
Ruby entered the bar, arm in arm with another suitor, and they sat down near the bar. Emma suddenly pulled Graham to her and kissed him. Graham gasped in surprise, but returned the kiss. One of the customers sitting at the counter giggled:
— Look what the sheriff is doing! — And pointed at their table.
Ruby glanced at him, pursed her lips, and turned away. Emma pushed Graham a little away from her and said: "Let's get out of here."
She got up from the table, followed by Graham, taking the bottle with him, and they left.
Ruby lay in her room, staring at the ceiling. The client left an hour ago, and she just lay there and thought. The hostess of the brothel entered the room and sat down beside her. She ran her finger along Ruby's face, from forehead to chin.
— What are you thinking about? — The woman asked.
— I don't want to work here anymore. — Ruby said firmly.
— Yah? — Woman wondered.— And where are you going to work? In a hotel, for pennies to clean the rooms? At your grandmother's?
— At least at Grandma's! — Ruby sat up in bed. — I can't do this anymore, mom!
— What happened? Met the sheriff on the street again? Talked to her and decided to "ennoble"? What did she say to you? Or maybe she takes you to church?
— She didn't say anything. Her name is Emma. — Ruby replied. — And I love her.
The woman gave her daughter a resounding slap in the face. Ruby screamed and clutched her cheek.
— I don't want to hear this nonsense again! — The brunette said sharply. — So you won't be working any more today. But tomorrow you will continue as usual! Understood me?
Ruby was silent, holding her cheek, tears in her eyes. Anita went out, nostrils flaring predatory. She closed the door and locked it with a key. Ruby leaned back, hugged the pillow and cried.
The woman went into her room and looked around carefully. She closed the door with a key and sat down at her table to preen herself. A person approached her and the muzzle of a revolver rested on the back of her head. She looked at the person in the reflection and smiled.
— Are you going to kill me? — She chuckled. — That would be very stupid.
— Why? — The person said.
— Because. —The woman rose and turned, gently moving her weapon hand away from her. — Why are you here?
— Talk. — The person holstered the revolver. — About the sheriff.
— And you too, Your Majesty. — The woman wrapped her arms around Regina's waist. — And I thought My Queen missed me and came to visit. At the risk of being caught.
— Anita. You know I love risk and I missed you. But… — Regina roughly grabbed the woman by the hair and pulled back, — … first, let's talk about the sheriff. Yes?
— Yes... My Queen... — Anita whispered as Regina pressed her lips against hers.
— Then tell me: did she get my note? — Regina asked, after the kiss and after releasing Anita.
— Received and disappointed.— Anita chuckled.— So, she even got drunk, along with own boy.
— Reliable information? — Regina glared at her.
— Yes, Ruby and Red Joe were at the bar at the time. And they saw everything with their own eyes. — Answered the woman.
— This is good. — Regina said thoughtfully and sat down on the bed.
— Maybe we stop talking business? — Anita sat down beside her and took off her hat.
— You weren't scared. — Regina said suddenly and grabbed the woman's arm. — When you saw me with a gun. At all. Why?
— I knew you were in the room.— Anita smiled. - I noticed your boots, near the closet and ...
— And? — Regina arched an eyebrow.
— Apples. — Anita whispered. — When you are in the room, it always smells like apples.
She began kissing Regina on the neck, lightly biting the skin. With a slight growl, Regina threw her onto the bed and began to remove her corset.
Emma opened her eyes. The brain slowly processed the information, and she tried to understand what she saw: she hugged Graham by the neck and both of them lay on the floor, near her room. She had a terrible headache. Although they were both in clothes, there were no less questions from this.
— Graham.— Emma called softly. — Graham, wake up.
— To work? — The guy muttered. — I'm getting up.
— Graham!— The young girl called louder. — What the hell is going on?
Graham opened his eyes, groaned, and sat up on the floor. He looked at a friend with pity.
— Emma. How do you?— He asked suddenly.
— What does "how" mean? Fine. — Emma also sat on the floor. — The head is just cracking. Why do we sleep on the floor?
— We drank yesterday. — Graham sighed. — And then you told me at the bar that the "Queen" was playing a game.
— I remember it. Mmm. — Another bout of headache interrupted her speech. — Why are we lying on the floor in my house?
— After the bar, you dragged me to the police station. You said you have "how to answer this bitch", but sprained leg and I took you home. You didn't want to see Dr. Whale : "It's close here. A couple of houses, I'm up to jumping on one leg. " As you can see, we did not reach the room a little. Leg hurts?
— Not. — Emma was surprised.— My head hurts, my leg doesn't.
She tried to get up, but the pain in her leg immediately made itself felt, resonating with her head. Then she swore loudly and obscenely.
— Wow. — Graham said. — I didn't know you could do that.
He got up and helped lift Emma. The young girl carefully got up, leaning on her good leg. Embracing the guy by the shoulder, Emma went into the room and Graham sat her on the bed.
— I still go to the doctor. — The guy said, and noticing that she wanted to tell him something, he added.— I don't want to know anything. I will bring him. And then you can shoot me.
Graham went out, and Emma settled herself comfortably on the bed and looked out of the window out of boredom. And here she was waiting for the biggest surprise of her life. The young girl opened her mouth in surprise and seemed to even stop breathing. On the road, turning around the corner of the house, there was a figure in a long cloak, in a red shirt, leather pants, jet - black hair was visible from under the hat, some kind of lilac patch dangled around the neck. The figure moved strangely, its head bowed low, looking around from time to time, trying to move closer to the houses, closer to the shadow, avoiding open and illuminated areas.
"It can't be, - Emma thought. - "Queen" ?
And the figure, once again looking around, darted around the corner of the house. Emma just blinked her eyes in surprise.
Soon Graham arrived with Dr. Whale. Graham pointed to the young girl.
— Here she is, doctor. And I'll go, you understand, our work is like that. — He waved goodbye to Emma and left.
— Well, — The doctor said. — What do we have here?
— My leg hurts, very badly. I can't go. — Emma replied.
— Yeah. — The doctor nodded and rolled up her trousers.
He grabbed the girl's leg at the ankle, Emma screamed. The doctor nodded his head again.
— You've got a dislocation, sheriff. — He handed her something. - Clamp your teeth.
Emma took it in her hands and turned it over: it was a piece of leather - either from a bag, or from a suitcase. The young girl shrugged her shoulders and put it in her mouth. The doctor chuckled and took her by the foot and suddenly jerked sharply. Emma grunted and clenched her teeth tightly.
— Now it's good. You need something cold to put on your leg. Do you have anything?
Emma spat out two pieces of skin on the bed - she just bit him in half.
— Nope. — She answer. — I wanted to make a glacier, but my hands do not reach.
— Good.— The doctor replied. — Then let's do it.
He wet a towel with water and wrapped it around Emma's leg.
— When it dries, you can still moisten and apply.
— Thank you? doctor. — Emma answered and, noticing how he closes the suitcase, asked. — Doctor, how is the wounded man? He died?
— Which the? — The doctor was surprised.
— Traveler. From which you took the bullet.
— Ah, this… — the doctor bowed his head. - Not. He is alive. Drunk was just. He just fell asleep. But then I changed the bandage. So not in vain.
— Once again, thank you, doctor. — Emma said.
— Not worth it.— Dr. Whale waved his hand and jabbed a finger at her leg. — Don't forget to wet the towel. And it'll all be over in a couple of days.