The Cagon Mines
Ch. 2
Water splashed on his face.
"Up and at 'e,, Mex." laughed a rough, snarling voice.
"Reno." The downed Cavalier growled, wiping the water from his eyes.
"What's that ya sayin'?"
"It's Reno." he repeated, bracing his hands beneath him. "But you can call me MR Nevada!" Reno grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it as he lunged.
The prison guard, blinded by the dirt, never saw the small, yet powerful, fists coming at him. And, after only two sharp blows, never saw what had hit him.
Reno quickly stepped over the fallen man and headed for the light. He wasn't entirely sure where he was. By the looks of the walls it was a cave. He had spent most of the trip here slipping in and out of conscious so the details were lost to him. But he was verily certain about one thing: when it came to caves, the light lead to the way out!
He stumbled to a halt at the edge of the light, his gut twisting with a mixture of wonder and cold realization.
The light revealed a huge pit of maybe five stories above and four below. The pit's walls were braced in comstock fashion, with levels and levels of miner filled planked platforms. It was a longer look at the miners that revealed the true horror of what Reno saw: men in tattered suits, women in torn dresses, children hunched over from loads too heavy for their half grown bodies... all under the watchful eyes of the whip and pistol toting prison guards.
The light didn't lead Reno out. It lead him into the pit of hell!
"Escape! Escape!" screamed the man he had left in the dirt behind him. "Stop him! catch that damn Mex!"
Reno turned and took a step back toward the prison guard who cringed and back away. Apparently the man who's brave enough to push around helpless people, has his doubts about taking on a man who is more than willing and able to fight back.
"Stand right there!" a yell drew his attention to his right.
"You got no where to go, Mex." another command came from his left.
Reno looked about, seeing prison guards coming at him from both sides. They shook lose their whips as they approached. His only escape routs were through them... unless...
Reno Nevada spun about. Just a few feet from the platform he was standing on was a rope which was lowering a bucket down to the lower levels. An escape... one way or another. Taking a running leap, he jumped for the rope.
Catching it, he swung out into the center of the pit. Curses sounded from above and below as workers fought to control the rope, struggling with the unexpected weight. Reno slid down a few inches, the rope tarring at the skin of the palms of his hands, until his feet landed on the edge of the bucket.
The prison guards were all around, now, watching him from all the platforms. After a moment of watching him swing out there, one of the called out "Now all ya have to do is let go. Down really is the only escape for you, Mex!"
Reno looked down. It was so dark at the bottom of the pit he wasn't sure if he was really seeing the bottom or if it went down and down and what he was really seeing was night on the other side of the world. he looked up. He could see passed the people who peered down from him from the levels above. The blue sky and bright sunshine shown down on him from the pit's mouth, seemingly to be just out of reach. Freedom... and all he had to do was climb the rope... climb the rope five, six stories with bad guys on all sides and probably a lot more up top waiting for him. He looked down again. Freedom so close, one way or another....
Well, if light didn't always lead out, up, sure as hell, was better than down!
He began to climb, reaching up, grabbing rope, pulling himself up, hold with his legs, reaching up, grabbing rope, pulling himself up....
The prison guards laughed at his slow ascend. "He ain't goin' no where." one hooted. "Let him ware himself out and climb his hands raw. He'll know better, then, that there's only one way out of the Cagon Mines. And that's down!"
**********
Perfect Tommy leaned over the top of the hill. "That is one big damn hole." he whistled.
Knuckles laid beside him. "Crap." Her form of agreement. "What the hell is that?"
"A mine, I think." Perfect Tommy glanced at her. "They mine out here, don't they?"
"Silver, I think." When Tommy frowned at her, she shrugged. "I'm a zoologist! What do I know about rocks?"
He huffed and shook his head. "Fine geniuses we are. Where's ol' Bucky when you need some one who knows everything?"
"She's right. Silver." a voice spoke up from behind them.
Perfect Tommy and Knuckles glanced at each other. "You ever notice," Knuckles started, "that I always get in trouble when I'm with you?"
Perfect Tommy frowned again. "Why does everyone blame me? I haven't done one thing during this whole trip to get any of us in trouble!" he protested.
"You don't have to do anything to get into trouble!" Knuckles accused. "You just attract it like rotten meat attracts flies!"
Tommy winced. "Do you have to use that analogy?"
Knuckles shrugged. "Like black attracts Oddity's white fur?"
Perfect Tommy tilted his head to one side. "I noticed that. Does that dog ever stop shedding?"
"Excuse me?" spoke up the voice from behind them once more. "Me, with big gun, arresting you two, with no guns. Remember?"
"Now you want to complain about Oddity?" Knuckles growled, ignoring the intruder. "Some of that stuff you call style could use Oddity's touch!"
"Hey, I know fashion!" Perfect Tommy protested.
"Fashion maybe! You look really pretty crawling around in the dirt in your silk and leather."
"At least I do it in style!"
"Ever heard of excessorizing for environment?" Knuckles returned.
"Helloooo?"
Perfect Tommy held up a hand at the deputy behind them, hushing him. "Let me guess: if we were in Hawaii you'd want me running around in a grass skirt?"
"Ha!" Knuckles rolled on her back and crossed her arms over her chest. "Like you have the legs to pull that off."
Tommy looked shocked. "What the hell are wrong with my legs?"
Knuckles hands snapped out, throwing a knife from under her sleeve, across the short distance between herself and the deputy, and took him in the arm.
With a cry, the deputy dropped his shot gun, and grabbed at the knife in his arm.
But perfect Tommy jumped at him, knocking him down to the ground and slamming his fist against his jaw, knocking him out cold.
Knuckles rose to her feet, and walked over to retrieve her knife.
Perfect Tommy looked up at her from where he crouched over the deputy. "Well? What the hell is wrong with my legs?"
Leaning over, Knuckles kissed him lightly on the forehead. "Nothing, P.T, nothing what-so-ever." she cooed, before wiping her knife clean on the unconscious man's pants and sliding it back into the sheath strapped to the under side of her arm. "We better get back to the bike before his buddies come looking for him." She turned away.
Perfect Tommy rose up and followed, saying "No, really: what's wrong with my legs?"
Knuckles laughed.
**********
The town of Cagon was so small, the World Watch One had to be parked on the outskirts. There simply wasn't any room for the big bus. They even had their doubts about driving it down the main street which looked like it was only wide enough for one way traffic anyway. not that it was a big deal, parking out of town. Not like there wasn't anything beyond walking distance anyway.
Pecos frowned as she looked around. "Didn't we visit a ghost town like this once before?" she mumbled.
"Oh, like that was a fond memory." Big Norse stepped passed her. "There's the canteena." She huffed. "Why are they always called the Naked Lady?"
Rawhide leaned over her shoulder. "They know a good thing when they see it." he teased, but quickly moved away when he recognized a dangerous spark in the woman's eyes. He set his stetson on his head. "Everyone stay in pairs, stay in contact, and stay out of trouble!" he ordered the gathering BBs. "Remember: jail here is being dropped down some mine shaft and put to work."
"Sam, stay with the bus. Keep it locked up and safe." Buckaroo added to the driver. "And, Billy, stay on the information highway. We need proof else we're just breaking a friend out jail."
"Speaking of friends..." Everyone looked at Pecos. "Where are Knuckles and Perfect Tommy? Not exactly like you can miss us pulling into town."
Buckaroo Banzai took a few steps down the dusty street. Only a few of the locals could be seen wandering here and there. None of which had any resemblance to the two missing Cavaliers. The only sign that they had ever been there was the empty truck sitting in front of the canteena. "Pecos, Norse, go check out the canteena. See what you can find out about this bartender Reno supposedly murdered. Pinky, you and New Jersey collect Knuckles' truck."
"And lock that weapons' locker of hers in the bus." Rawhide put in. "Last thing we need is to explain what a little girl like her is doing with all that fire power."
Buckaroo nodded. "Rawhide and I'll go pay a visit to our friendly local law enforcement." He waved a finger at them. "And keep in touch."
After a nod each, they headed off for their separate destinations.
Rawhide scratched his chin. "I'd sure like to know where those kids got themselves." he mumbled.
Buckaroo sighed. Not bothering to answer, he started for the little jail house half way down the block
The sheriff rose to his feet when he saw the pair step into his office. "Well, howdy, folks. What can I do for you?"
Buckaroo smiled despite his urge to throttle the man and demand he return his people right then and there. No good comes from violence... for perhaps the deep satisfaction of hammering a bad guy into the ground with his bare knuckles. "Hello. Names Dr. Buckaroo Banzai. I'd like to talk to Reno Nevada."
The sheriff flashed a crooked smile. "Your a few miles off for that, friend. Reno, Nevada is in a whole other state."
Rawhide stepped forward and he was not smiling. "This morning you arrested a man by the name of Reno Nevada for murder."
Sheriff McCane hesitated. "Oh, you mean the mex. Well, he ain't here no longer."
"Mex?" Buckaroo growled. "Is every Latin American in these parts considered a `mex'?"
The sheriff stiffened.
But Rawhide took over the conversation before it could deteriorate any more. "If he isn't here, where is he?" he wanted to know.
"Gentlemen." called a gray suited man as he stepped in from an office to the side. "Mr. Nevada was moved to the local prison facilities after his trial."
"Trial? You investigated and tried a man for murder in only a few hours?" Rawhide demanded.
"And found him guilty!" the sheriff snapped. "Justice doesn't wait around here for an audience. We get the job done, and don't waste time fussing with cross the `t' or dotting the `i'!"
The gray suited man held up his hand, silencing his sheriff. "Please excuse our rudeness. We don't often get visitors, you understand." He held his hand out to Buckaroo. "I am Mayor Cagon and this is Sheriff McCane. By the way, he also happen to witness the murder."
"Really?" Buckaroo eyed the man. "And what exactly did he see?"
Sheriff McCane leaned over his desk. "I saw your mex draw on a helpless man and gun him down." he growled. "And, while we're on the subject of your friends, you won't happen to know where those other two are, now, would you?"
"Why? Who'd they murder?"
The sheriff smiled. "Have a few questions I'd like to ask them."
"About?"
"My apologies, Dr. Banzai." Cagon spoke up. "Are you their lawyer?"
"I'm their doctor and employer." Buckaroo answered.
"Well." Cagon rolled a gold coin over his knuckles. "If their lawyer appears, you will let us know, won't you?" He smiled, an ending to their conversation.
Buckaroo's eyes narrowed, but he had nothing else to say to these men. He had seen enough. With a glance to Rawhide, he turned and left.
**********
Pecos looked around at the canteena. Dust was every where. Even the beer was speckled with dust. She set the mug back down without taking a swig. "Hey, buddy." she called to the barkeep.
The man turned just enough to see who was talking, before returning to watering down a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Yea?" he mumbled.
"Heard something about a murder here abouts this morning. Can you fill me in?" Pecos asked, grabbing a peanut and popping it into her mouth. She quickly spat it out in her hand. "How old are these things?"
The bartender glanced at her again. "Older than you, missy." With a sigh, he turned and leaned on the bar. He looked her up and down. "Bet if I had a body like yours on the payroll I could afford to buy new nuts."
Pecos smiled her warmest and leaned over toward him. "Another comment like that, and you'll need new nuts."
His smile vanished instantly and he quickly stepped back and out of reach.
Pecos sat back once again. "Murder? This morning?" she reminded.
The bartender shrugged. "When you have a famous establishment like this, on occasion you draw the wrong crowd." He turned back to his watered down whiskey.
"Yea, well, this joint seems to attract a lot of it." Big Norse commented walking up to the bar after her chat with bleached blond saloon girl. "You have a murder every couple of months according to the locals. You go through a lot of bartenders."
The man shrugged, throwing a glare at his saloon girl who shrank away. "Yea, well always lookin' for talented drink slingers."
"I'm pretty good." Norse offered. "And I hear you've recently had an opening."
Pecos glanced sharply at her friend, but was ignored.
The bartender turned to eye her. He glanced once to Pecos then back to the blond. "Well, I'll give you a try. never had a woman barkeep before. Might be... fun." His eye had a rather nasty twinkle to it. "Show up first thing in the morning and I'll put you to work. You have a place to stay tonight?"
"It's taken care of." Pecos quickly answered, taking her friend by the arm and dragging her away.
They joined New Jersey and Pinky outside. Pinky was crouched in the bed, looking at an empty trunk. "They took even the spare cylinders for her Starr." he was saying.
New Jersey was frowning, nothing unusual for him. "Do we know what she had?"
"Yea." Pinky answered, jumping out onto the ground. "She gave Rawhide an inventory in case she wasn't around and we needed her gear." He shook a set of keys. "She thinks of everything, eh?"
"Which is something that should be bugging us considering she isn't here." Norse spoke up. "But, hey, no worry. I've got a job."
"Job?" That was Rawhide. He and Buckaroo had just joined them from across the street. "What job?"
Pecos threw a thumb over her shoulder at the canteena. "She's the new bartender, aka next murder victim."
"What?!" Rawhide glared at the blond woman.
"Take it easy, Rawhide." Big Norse held up her hands. "According to queen of peroxide in there, a newbie walks into town, gets a job as a bartender, waits for the next newbie to walk into town, and dies." She shrugged. "We have a whole bus load of newbies we can frame for murder." She grinned.
Buckaroo grinned.
Everyone else frowned.
Water splashed on his face.
"Up and at 'e,, Mex." laughed a rough, snarling voice.
"Reno." The downed Cavalier growled, wiping the water from his eyes.
"What's that ya sayin'?"
"It's Reno." he repeated, bracing his hands beneath him. "But you can call me MR Nevada!" Reno grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it as he lunged.
The prison guard, blinded by the dirt, never saw the small, yet powerful, fists coming at him. And, after only two sharp blows, never saw what had hit him.
Reno quickly stepped over the fallen man and headed for the light. He wasn't entirely sure where he was. By the looks of the walls it was a cave. He had spent most of the trip here slipping in and out of conscious so the details were lost to him. But he was verily certain about one thing: when it came to caves, the light lead to the way out!
He stumbled to a halt at the edge of the light, his gut twisting with a mixture of wonder and cold realization.
The light revealed a huge pit of maybe five stories above and four below. The pit's walls were braced in comstock fashion, with levels and levels of miner filled planked platforms. It was a longer look at the miners that revealed the true horror of what Reno saw: men in tattered suits, women in torn dresses, children hunched over from loads too heavy for their half grown bodies... all under the watchful eyes of the whip and pistol toting prison guards.
The light didn't lead Reno out. It lead him into the pit of hell!
"Escape! Escape!" screamed the man he had left in the dirt behind him. "Stop him! catch that damn Mex!"
Reno turned and took a step back toward the prison guard who cringed and back away. Apparently the man who's brave enough to push around helpless people, has his doubts about taking on a man who is more than willing and able to fight back.
"Stand right there!" a yell drew his attention to his right.
"You got no where to go, Mex." another command came from his left.
Reno looked about, seeing prison guards coming at him from both sides. They shook lose their whips as they approached. His only escape routs were through them... unless...
Reno Nevada spun about. Just a few feet from the platform he was standing on was a rope which was lowering a bucket down to the lower levels. An escape... one way or another. Taking a running leap, he jumped for the rope.
Catching it, he swung out into the center of the pit. Curses sounded from above and below as workers fought to control the rope, struggling with the unexpected weight. Reno slid down a few inches, the rope tarring at the skin of the palms of his hands, until his feet landed on the edge of the bucket.
The prison guards were all around, now, watching him from all the platforms. After a moment of watching him swing out there, one of the called out "Now all ya have to do is let go. Down really is the only escape for you, Mex!"
Reno looked down. It was so dark at the bottom of the pit he wasn't sure if he was really seeing the bottom or if it went down and down and what he was really seeing was night on the other side of the world. he looked up. He could see passed the people who peered down from him from the levels above. The blue sky and bright sunshine shown down on him from the pit's mouth, seemingly to be just out of reach. Freedom... and all he had to do was climb the rope... climb the rope five, six stories with bad guys on all sides and probably a lot more up top waiting for him. He looked down again. Freedom so close, one way or another....
Well, if light didn't always lead out, up, sure as hell, was better than down!
He began to climb, reaching up, grabbing rope, pulling himself up, hold with his legs, reaching up, grabbing rope, pulling himself up....
The prison guards laughed at his slow ascend. "He ain't goin' no where." one hooted. "Let him ware himself out and climb his hands raw. He'll know better, then, that there's only one way out of the Cagon Mines. And that's down!"
**********
Perfect Tommy leaned over the top of the hill. "That is one big damn hole." he whistled.
Knuckles laid beside him. "Crap." Her form of agreement. "What the hell is that?"
"A mine, I think." Perfect Tommy glanced at her. "They mine out here, don't they?"
"Silver, I think." When Tommy frowned at her, she shrugged. "I'm a zoologist! What do I know about rocks?"
He huffed and shook his head. "Fine geniuses we are. Where's ol' Bucky when you need some one who knows everything?"
"She's right. Silver." a voice spoke up from behind them.
Perfect Tommy and Knuckles glanced at each other. "You ever notice," Knuckles started, "that I always get in trouble when I'm with you?"
Perfect Tommy frowned again. "Why does everyone blame me? I haven't done one thing during this whole trip to get any of us in trouble!" he protested.
"You don't have to do anything to get into trouble!" Knuckles accused. "You just attract it like rotten meat attracts flies!"
Tommy winced. "Do you have to use that analogy?"
Knuckles shrugged. "Like black attracts Oddity's white fur?"
Perfect Tommy tilted his head to one side. "I noticed that. Does that dog ever stop shedding?"
"Excuse me?" spoke up the voice from behind them once more. "Me, with big gun, arresting you two, with no guns. Remember?"
"Now you want to complain about Oddity?" Knuckles growled, ignoring the intruder. "Some of that stuff you call style could use Oddity's touch!"
"Hey, I know fashion!" Perfect Tommy protested.
"Fashion maybe! You look really pretty crawling around in the dirt in your silk and leather."
"At least I do it in style!"
"Ever heard of excessorizing for environment?" Knuckles returned.
"Helloooo?"
Perfect Tommy held up a hand at the deputy behind them, hushing him. "Let me guess: if we were in Hawaii you'd want me running around in a grass skirt?"
"Ha!" Knuckles rolled on her back and crossed her arms over her chest. "Like you have the legs to pull that off."
Tommy looked shocked. "What the hell are wrong with my legs?"
Knuckles hands snapped out, throwing a knife from under her sleeve, across the short distance between herself and the deputy, and took him in the arm.
With a cry, the deputy dropped his shot gun, and grabbed at the knife in his arm.
But perfect Tommy jumped at him, knocking him down to the ground and slamming his fist against his jaw, knocking him out cold.
Knuckles rose to her feet, and walked over to retrieve her knife.
Perfect Tommy looked up at her from where he crouched over the deputy. "Well? What the hell is wrong with my legs?"
Leaning over, Knuckles kissed him lightly on the forehead. "Nothing, P.T, nothing what-so-ever." she cooed, before wiping her knife clean on the unconscious man's pants and sliding it back into the sheath strapped to the under side of her arm. "We better get back to the bike before his buddies come looking for him." She turned away.
Perfect Tommy rose up and followed, saying "No, really: what's wrong with my legs?"
Knuckles laughed.
**********
The town of Cagon was so small, the World Watch One had to be parked on the outskirts. There simply wasn't any room for the big bus. They even had their doubts about driving it down the main street which looked like it was only wide enough for one way traffic anyway. not that it was a big deal, parking out of town. Not like there wasn't anything beyond walking distance anyway.
Pecos frowned as she looked around. "Didn't we visit a ghost town like this once before?" she mumbled.
"Oh, like that was a fond memory." Big Norse stepped passed her. "There's the canteena." She huffed. "Why are they always called the Naked Lady?"
Rawhide leaned over her shoulder. "They know a good thing when they see it." he teased, but quickly moved away when he recognized a dangerous spark in the woman's eyes. He set his stetson on his head. "Everyone stay in pairs, stay in contact, and stay out of trouble!" he ordered the gathering BBs. "Remember: jail here is being dropped down some mine shaft and put to work."
"Sam, stay with the bus. Keep it locked up and safe." Buckaroo added to the driver. "And, Billy, stay on the information highway. We need proof else we're just breaking a friend out jail."
"Speaking of friends..." Everyone looked at Pecos. "Where are Knuckles and Perfect Tommy? Not exactly like you can miss us pulling into town."
Buckaroo Banzai took a few steps down the dusty street. Only a few of the locals could be seen wandering here and there. None of which had any resemblance to the two missing Cavaliers. The only sign that they had ever been there was the empty truck sitting in front of the canteena. "Pecos, Norse, go check out the canteena. See what you can find out about this bartender Reno supposedly murdered. Pinky, you and New Jersey collect Knuckles' truck."
"And lock that weapons' locker of hers in the bus." Rawhide put in. "Last thing we need is to explain what a little girl like her is doing with all that fire power."
Buckaroo nodded. "Rawhide and I'll go pay a visit to our friendly local law enforcement." He waved a finger at them. "And keep in touch."
After a nod each, they headed off for their separate destinations.
Rawhide scratched his chin. "I'd sure like to know where those kids got themselves." he mumbled.
Buckaroo sighed. Not bothering to answer, he started for the little jail house half way down the block
The sheriff rose to his feet when he saw the pair step into his office. "Well, howdy, folks. What can I do for you?"
Buckaroo smiled despite his urge to throttle the man and demand he return his people right then and there. No good comes from violence... for perhaps the deep satisfaction of hammering a bad guy into the ground with his bare knuckles. "Hello. Names Dr. Buckaroo Banzai. I'd like to talk to Reno Nevada."
The sheriff flashed a crooked smile. "Your a few miles off for that, friend. Reno, Nevada is in a whole other state."
Rawhide stepped forward and he was not smiling. "This morning you arrested a man by the name of Reno Nevada for murder."
Sheriff McCane hesitated. "Oh, you mean the mex. Well, he ain't here no longer."
"Mex?" Buckaroo growled. "Is every Latin American in these parts considered a `mex'?"
The sheriff stiffened.
But Rawhide took over the conversation before it could deteriorate any more. "If he isn't here, where is he?" he wanted to know.
"Gentlemen." called a gray suited man as he stepped in from an office to the side. "Mr. Nevada was moved to the local prison facilities after his trial."
"Trial? You investigated and tried a man for murder in only a few hours?" Rawhide demanded.
"And found him guilty!" the sheriff snapped. "Justice doesn't wait around here for an audience. We get the job done, and don't waste time fussing with cross the `t' or dotting the `i'!"
The gray suited man held up his hand, silencing his sheriff. "Please excuse our rudeness. We don't often get visitors, you understand." He held his hand out to Buckaroo. "I am Mayor Cagon and this is Sheriff McCane. By the way, he also happen to witness the murder."
"Really?" Buckaroo eyed the man. "And what exactly did he see?"
Sheriff McCane leaned over his desk. "I saw your mex draw on a helpless man and gun him down." he growled. "And, while we're on the subject of your friends, you won't happen to know where those other two are, now, would you?"
"Why? Who'd they murder?"
The sheriff smiled. "Have a few questions I'd like to ask them."
"About?"
"My apologies, Dr. Banzai." Cagon spoke up. "Are you their lawyer?"
"I'm their doctor and employer." Buckaroo answered.
"Well." Cagon rolled a gold coin over his knuckles. "If their lawyer appears, you will let us know, won't you?" He smiled, an ending to their conversation.
Buckaroo's eyes narrowed, but he had nothing else to say to these men. He had seen enough. With a glance to Rawhide, he turned and left.
**********
Pecos looked around at the canteena. Dust was every where. Even the beer was speckled with dust. She set the mug back down without taking a swig. "Hey, buddy." she called to the barkeep.
The man turned just enough to see who was talking, before returning to watering down a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Yea?" he mumbled.
"Heard something about a murder here abouts this morning. Can you fill me in?" Pecos asked, grabbing a peanut and popping it into her mouth. She quickly spat it out in her hand. "How old are these things?"
The bartender glanced at her again. "Older than you, missy." With a sigh, he turned and leaned on the bar. He looked her up and down. "Bet if I had a body like yours on the payroll I could afford to buy new nuts."
Pecos smiled her warmest and leaned over toward him. "Another comment like that, and you'll need new nuts."
His smile vanished instantly and he quickly stepped back and out of reach.
Pecos sat back once again. "Murder? This morning?" she reminded.
The bartender shrugged. "When you have a famous establishment like this, on occasion you draw the wrong crowd." He turned back to his watered down whiskey.
"Yea, well, this joint seems to attract a lot of it." Big Norse commented walking up to the bar after her chat with bleached blond saloon girl. "You have a murder every couple of months according to the locals. You go through a lot of bartenders."
The man shrugged, throwing a glare at his saloon girl who shrank away. "Yea, well always lookin' for talented drink slingers."
"I'm pretty good." Norse offered. "And I hear you've recently had an opening."
Pecos glanced sharply at her friend, but was ignored.
The bartender turned to eye her. He glanced once to Pecos then back to the blond. "Well, I'll give you a try. never had a woman barkeep before. Might be... fun." His eye had a rather nasty twinkle to it. "Show up first thing in the morning and I'll put you to work. You have a place to stay tonight?"
"It's taken care of." Pecos quickly answered, taking her friend by the arm and dragging her away.
They joined New Jersey and Pinky outside. Pinky was crouched in the bed, looking at an empty trunk. "They took even the spare cylinders for her Starr." he was saying.
New Jersey was frowning, nothing unusual for him. "Do we know what she had?"
"Yea." Pinky answered, jumping out onto the ground. "She gave Rawhide an inventory in case she wasn't around and we needed her gear." He shook a set of keys. "She thinks of everything, eh?"
"Which is something that should be bugging us considering she isn't here." Norse spoke up. "But, hey, no worry. I've got a job."
"Job?" That was Rawhide. He and Buckaroo had just joined them from across the street. "What job?"
Pecos threw a thumb over her shoulder at the canteena. "She's the new bartender, aka next murder victim."
"What?!" Rawhide glared at the blond woman.
"Take it easy, Rawhide." Big Norse held up her hands. "According to queen of peroxide in there, a newbie walks into town, gets a job as a bartender, waits for the next newbie to walk into town, and dies." She shrugged. "We have a whole bus load of newbies we can frame for murder." She grinned.
Buckaroo grinned.
Everyone else frowned.