AN: This takes place in an imaginary season 20! On with the show.
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Kitty lifted a pitcher of beer and filled three glasses to the brim "There you go, Doc, Festus." She grabbed the third glass and smiled across the table. "Let's drink up." Their long thirst-quenching swallows were followed by satisfied sighs. Doc ran a hand across his mustache. "Thanks, Kitty. A cold beer hits the spot after a long day of seeing patients. By the way, have you heard from Matt? I'm kinda wondering when he might be back."
"Nope." Kitty shook her head, "But he's tracking those men who've been on a crime spree, I think he called them the Taylor gang, so I doubt he's gotten anywhere near a telegraph office. Why do you ask, something wrong?"
"Well – a couple of things came up with a patient of mine." Doc scratched his ear. "I'd kinda like to run some thoughts by Matt, maybe avoid conflicts before they start."
"Hold on thar Doc." Festus tapped the star on his chest. "This here deputy's badge means thar's lots o' thangs I can see ta. Maybe ya outta tell me some of them troubly thangs, instead a saving 'em fur Matthew."
"Now Festus…." Doc's answer went on, but Kitty stopped listening to her friends banter back and forth. Their conversation reminded her that when Matt got back, Doc and plenty of others would be needing his attention, seeking his assistance, asking his advise. It could be a week or more before the two of them could spend a day together. On the other hand, they would have their nights, their wonderful nights. A smile tugged at her lips.
Doc noticed Kitty's smile and pointed at her. "See, Festus. Kitty thinks I'm right." Brought back to the conversation Kitty raised an eyebrow. "Right about what, Doc?"
"What I've been trying to explain to Festus - that he's a fine deputy, otherwise Matt wouldn't have him wearing that badge. It's just that some things need the attention of a US Marshal."
Festus grinned. "Ya ole scudder. Ya mean ya finally admittin' that I am likely the bestest deputy in the whole, entire country. That's what ya sayin' ain't it?"
"I didn't say that, Festus. I just said that….."
Kitty put up a hand. "I hate to interrupt this wonderful conversation, but it is actually closing time." Doc looked around. The place was empty but for Sam putting chairs up on tables. "Sorry Kitty. Don't know where the time went. We'll let you get some rest." Doc got to his feet. "And Kitty, I'd appreciate it if you 'd let me know if you hear from Matt. Come on Festus." Doc started towards the door with Festus at his heels. "Now Doc, ya said Matthew wants me ta be wearin' this here badge, an he's the bestest marshal in the country so it only follows …."
Kitty shook her head as her friends' voices faded into the night. She stood and looked around. The bar was wiped down, and Sam was sweeping the floor. "You go on upstairs, Miss Kitty. There's not much more to do. I'll finish and lock up."
"Thanks Sam, I know we left some dirty glasses on the table. Leave them for the morning. Good night." Tiredly making her way upstairs, she pulled out her key and unlocked her door. The instant she stepped inside, a cool breeze hit her face. She frowned. The window was open. She never left the window open. A cursory glance around the room told her nothing was gone, seemed amiss or looked out of place. She quickly went to the window, and looked outside in all directions. The streets were deserted, nothing was out of the ordinary. Shivering slightly she quickly pulled the window shut. She must have forgotten to close it after airing out the room this morning. There was no other explanation, was there? A feeling of dread settled over her. She shook it off, telling herself she was being silly. Everything was fine. She kicked off her shoes and reached around to unzip her dress, wishing Matt was there to do it for her. Freed of her tight dress and high heels she put on a robe and fuzzy slippers, and sat down at her vanity to begin her nightly ritual. Step one, remove the hairpins that held her tight curls in a stylish hair-do. She deftly pulled them out, one-by one, and dropped them onto the table. Hair hanging softly to her shoulders, she gathered the pins and opened a small silver box to put them away. She gasped. A folded slip of paper sat inside the otherwise empty box. Heart racing she opened it.
If you want to see Matt Dillon alive, come to Willow Creek. Be there by dawn. Come alone. Tell no one. We have eyes everywhere. If you do not follow these instructions, Matt Dillon will be killed.
Kitty dropped the note as if it was hot. Who wrote it? Could it be a sick prank? How did she know if whoever wrote the note really was holding Matt. He was a man who rarely fell into traps.
Thoughts swirling in her head, her eyes wandered across her vanity and something caught her eye – a shiny item poking out of her jewelry box. Holding her breath she flipped open the lid. On top of earrings, pins and necklaces sat a US Marshal's badge, Matt's badge. She wrapped her hand around it and closed her eyes. She had to think this through.
Maybe the person who wrote the note hadn't actually captured Matt, but managed to swipe his badge. What that person might want with her was unknown, but it couldn't be good. Or maybe Matt had truly been captured, but he'd been in tricky situations dozens of times, and always found a way out. He could have already escaped. If either of those things were true, it would be best to wait at least a day or two, and hope to see or hear from him.
On the other hand, he could be a captive and hurt – hurt bad. He wasn't a man who'd be taken without putting up a fight. Images of Matt tied up, bruised and bleeding filled her mind. She shook her head; what good could she possibly be to him, riding in alone. Maybe she should go to Festus. He could form a posse in no time flat. But if whoever wrote the note really had eyes everywhere, then going to Festus was a terrible idea, and going to Doc just as bad.
She ran a finger across the note and read the words again – If you do not follow these instructions, Matt Dillon will be killed. Kitty stared at herself in the mirror. There was only one choice and she knew it. She threw off her robe, and got into a navy blue blouse and skirt. It took a minute of digging in back of her closet, but she found her riding boots and pulled them on. Hands shaking, she grabbed a light wool jacket from a hook, and shoved the note and badge deep into her skirt pocket. If what was written on that note was true, she couldn't risk anyone finding those items, in her room, and coming after her.
Quietly closing the door behind her, she hurried down the back stairs. Destination – the stable. She needed to saddle a horse and ride out with no one noticing.
TBC