Chapter Five

Mrs. Tallulah Simmons

Woody added his sweaty long Johns to the pile of clothes he was stripping off his body. He would take them to Bug in just a few minutes. Buck naked, he carefully considered what to put on from his small stash of supplies, when a light tap on his door interrupted him. "Marshal Hoyt?" a soft, decidedly feminine voice said from the other side of the door.

"Come in," Woody responded.

Mrs. Simmons' lush body filled the narrow doorway. "I was wondering if you needed anything else tonight…before I turn in…" If Lu was embarrassed by Woody's nudity, she didn't show it. She didn't even blink.

Woody smiled. Mrs. Simmons was obviously a well-connected woman in this town…many of the men of Tyler had probably come to her for more than just a hot meal…"Yes….I believe I do…Come in, Mrs. Simmons…and close the door behind you."

Lu licked her lips, entered the room and shut the door behind her. Woody kept his back to the woman as he stepped into a clean pair of long Johns. He hadn't shown his scar to anyone but the doctor and he wasn't planning on starting now. It might bring up too many questions he still wasn't prepared to answer.

"Can I help you with that, Marshal?" Lu's silkily seductive voice brought him back to the present. She gracefully arranged the material of her bedclothes as she sat down primly on the edge of the bed and helped herself to the drink Woody had poured himself from the bottle she left on his dresser earlier. If it weren't for the fact that she was on a strange man's bed, in nothing but her bedclothes, and drinking liquor, Tallulah Simmons would have looked like she was sitting down to high tea with the President's wife.

Woody buttoned up the top of the garment before turning around. "No…not right now…but there is something you can help me with, Mrs. Simmons…."

"Really? What?" Her voice was nearly purring. The new federal marshal was a fine specimen of manhood….one she wanted to claim…for reasons other than just business.

"You are obviously a well-connected woman Mrs. Simmons…one that knows the people of this community …some of them intimately…I need some information…"

"About who? I've only been here a few months myself. What would you like to know?"

Woody hoisted up his buckskins before he turned around to face her. His impression of Lu Simmons was that she wasn't the average fallen woman. She was intelligent and cunning. And she was very, very selective...like one of those geisha-girls he read about in a book to learn more about the oriental culture in case he'd ever got called to go to California. She knew how to use her position to be invisible and passive and at the same time she commanded the ear...and confidence … of half the county. He felt safe to move on to the names on his list.

"Tell me about the fort. Are you friendly with any of the soldiers? Tell me about Lt. Winslow."

Lu arched her eyebrow at him and studied him coolly. He hit a nerve...but she still answered. "They occasionally ride into town. Ed...Lt. Winslow is a fine man, Marshal. Whatever you think is going on here, he and those boys have nothing to do with it."

"So much for the boys in blue."

Lu smirked then. "Unless I'm mistaken, The War is over."

Woody smiled back nodding his head slightly as if to say 'touche'.

"When the war started Tyler was little more than a shadow of a dot on the map. The people here were more worried about survival then they were national politics. Separatists and Loyalists had to work together just to get through. For most of the locals, The War was a world away. People had to eat. They didn't care if they were selling their herds to the North or the South as long as they got paid."

"I stand corrected. All right, what about Townsend? Why Tyler? What's his reason for being here?"

"He has a spread about twenty miles north of here. I understand they raise mutton...but I don't think he's ever stepped foot on it. Ranching isn't his cup of tea so to speak. He likes playing with his gadgets. My girl, Annie, goes over there a few times a month. They have dinner, sometimes she stays the night. He's very outgoing, but I doubt there are many that really know him. But if you're asking me if he's a real English lord…the answer is yes. His father is, too…and Nigel is independently wealthy…he doesn't work. He doesn't have to."

"What kind of person is he?"

"Good…he has been in here a few times…." Lu let out a tinkling giggle. "But he's a good guy. Never causes any trouble…he's a fair hand at using at using a camera. Garret uses him to take pictures of unknown folks that die around here. That way, if the family is found, he can tell them where their deceased is buried."

So Nigel works with Garret…therefore works with Jordan…this could fit together better than I thought. Nigel…leads to Garret…who leads to Jordan….who leads to….Max. Woody felt like he had been dropped down a rabbit hole. A former sheriff possibly even distantly connected to gun smuggling to Mexico? Woody nearly shook his head over the thought. Instead he was able to remain casually nonchalant.

"What about Garret?"

"Dr. Macy? He's a good guy, too. From what I've heard, he was one hell of a surgeon on the battlefield…but a little scary. He could cow any nurse but Jordan…she's the only one that stood up to him. He followed her here after the war because they made such a good team."

"Is that all they are? Just a good team?" Woody sat down and began putting his boots on.

Lu shrugged. "I don't know. Other than a meal or two here, I never see Dr. Macy. I don't know if he and Jordan were an item, are an item, or are on again off again. I know for a while Dr. Marcy was seeing Mrs. Walcott…then her husband that she thought was dead showed up very much alive."

"Bet that was a shocker."

"It was to Dr. Macy. I did hear that after the undead Mr. Walcott showed up, Garret kind of crawled into a bottle of whiskey until Jordan got really angry at him and pulled him back out. Again."

Jordan cares for Garret…that's evident…but just how much…and how much does he care for he? Does he care enough to turn a blind eye if she knows that her father could be wrapped up in this smuggling business…or what if she's helping?

"What about Max? What does he think about Jordan and Garret?" He finished with his boots and reached for his shirt.

"I think Max likes Garret. Garret kind of helps him keep an eye on Jordan."

"What about Max Cavanaugh? Does he frequent any of your girls?"

"No. Roz likes to tease him but he never bites," she said shaking her head. "I don't think he's a saint but Max is a stand up fellow. He's hard working and honest. From what I gather he lost his wife years ago and never really got over it. But I wasn't in Tyler when Max was sheriff, if that's what you're asking. I came about the time Malden became sheriff and Max opened the Pogue. Max has never been in here…and I've never been in his bar…of course…I know he does send … clients … my way if they need a room and I throw customers his way if they want a drink. It's a nice, clean, business relationship…"

"Tell me about Sheriff Malden."

Woody couldn't mistake the shiver that went through Lu's slender figure. She tipped back the drink and refilled her glass before she answered. "I can't say I'm sorry to see him go."

Woody stopped buttoning up his shirt and sat down next to her in the edge of the bed. The crack in her cool businesslike demander seemed almost...intimate...like it was something she rarely showed, even to herself. He found it hard to believe Tallulah would have anything to do with a man like Malden...at least voluntarily.

"He's hurt you." It was a statement. Not a question. Any little regard Woody had for the outgoing sheriff just dropped off the face of the earth. If the man wasn't leaving on his own in a few days he'd escort him out of town personally. What did he have on her? Before he left town Woody vowed to make sure that whatever it was, he'd find out and make sure it didn't hurt her again. Until then he would keep an eye on the boarding house.

Lu straightened her back and brushed her hand down the rope of her straw blonde braid. Woody knew she was regrouping. He let her take her time. Lu, in turn, chose her words carefully.

"Tom Malden is a very...compelling man. His power not only comes from the badge but inside. He maybe a small town sheriff but you don't want to cross him, Marshal."

"Do you think the twelve dead strangers crossed him?"

Lu's hearty laugh sounded just a little too practiced to Woody's ears. She had put up the wall that all whores did when they talked to their john's...regardless of their class. He wouldn't get anymore information out of her. "No, Marshal. If anything, Sheriff Malden is a law man. He doesn't have anything to do with what's going on around here."

Woody's gut instinct told him she was lying but he honestly couldn't tell. What he did know was she was afraid of the man...which he assumed was no small feat. He just couldn't tell if it was just because of the obvious abusive professional relationship or something even more sinister. He finished buttoning his shirt and strapped on his Colt. Lu stood up and pinned his star on letting her fingers linger on his chest longer then necessary.

"Why the twenty questions, Marshal? I was hoping you had something else in mind when you asked me in…"

"Maybe I do…" Woody gave the woman her best choir boy smile…one that was known to melt the resolves of even the most morally iron-clad virtuous maidens…to say nothing of those that were a little on the other side of virtuous. "But right now, I need to go learn a little more about the citizens of Tyler…but thanks for your input." Woody picked up his Stetson and walked to the door.

Her voice stopped him as he reached for the doorknob. "Shall I keep the bed warm for you, Marshal?"

Woody turned back around and smiled another one of those choir boy smiles. "Why don't you do that? I shouldn't be gone long…."

Her lips twitched in amusement. "I hate to remind you this is not the big cities you're used to Marshal, but out here the side-walks are rolled up at sunset. People are snug in bed."

"What better time to acquaint myself it...with the underbelly showin' and all...?" Woody punned, popping a peppermint in his mouth from a tin he carried and pulling his hat on.

"Ma'am," he said courteously, tipping his hat. Then he walked out of the room.