Chapter 4: the Mayor's lovely wife

…At first, all was silent. And then one wide-eyed man with a red bandana tied round his neck rose shakily to his feet. "You," he whispered, staring at Lefty. "You're… you're that vampire hunter!"

"Yes," Lefty declared proudly.

Another man stood abruptly, knocking over his beer. "You came through here yesterday!"

"Yes, that was me!" Lefty said.

One of the barmaids raised a trembling finger in his direction. Lefty's smile instantly dissolved as he recalled the general meaning of that particular finger.

"You asshole!" the barmaid shrieked. "It was you what doomed our Mayor!"

Lefty blinked several times. "uh…"

"You've got a lot of nerve showin' yer ugly bloodsucking mug round this town, half-breed," the man with the red bandana said. "The Mayor was a good man!" There was a chorus of growly-sounding 'yeahs!' from the crowd.

"Hey, now," Lefty said, taking half a step backwards. "I didn't--"

Another man spoke up in a low, vaguely threatening voice. "In the middle of the night the Mayor woke up raving mad-- screaming that he'd been turned into a vampire. Honest as the day is long, that Mayor was, so in the end we'd no choice but to believe 'im. Staked him through the heart just afore sunrise."

"You what?" Lefty demanded, outraged.

"The Mayor's house has the most sophisticated vampire protection on the market," the angry citizen said, his voice choked with bitterness. "No vampire on this earth could get past those systems…" the man looked up at Lefty, hateful accusation smoldering in his eyes.

"Oh, but I could, right?" Lefty said, his tone caustic and impatient. "I could, because I'm a damned half-breed. So you're blaming me for what happened to him. Of course."

"His lovely wife, bless her heart, she told me everything!" A middle-aged woman stood, twisting her apron in her hands. Tears ran down her cheeks. "Told me how, yesterday evenin', a vampire hunter come by—and how afterwards, her husband started actin' mighty peculiar, sayin' all sorts of nasty things to her, laughing to himself, carrying on in a frightful manner—can you imagine it! And then for him to wake up in that depraved condition, and have to be put down like a diseased dog--"

Lefty heaved a sigh. "Well. It's really a shame and all, but it wasn't my fault! The vampire figured out a way to switch bodies with him, that's what really happened!"

"Feh!" red-bandana man spat on the floor at Lefty's feet. "You expect us to believe that? Get him!"

Lefty stood there stunned as the people in the saloon surged towards him, yelling all sorts of threats and curses. "To the jail!" someone hollered. "Drag him to jail! We'll have the sheriff string him up proper!"

They pushed him out the door and across the street to the sheriff's office, and in moments he was behind bars.

The sheriff, a burly, brown-skinned old man, tucked his thumbs into his belt loops and peered at the prisoner through a cloud of cigar smoke as he listened to the exclamations and convictions of the townspeople. "…Well…" he said at last in a grandfatherly voice. "This sure is a pickle. See, I've heard of this hunter. I know what he is. But I ain't about to hang a man fer sumthin' he didn't he do-- nor half a man, neither."

"You're saying you think he's innocent?" someone demanded.

"I'm saying I don't know," the sheriff said. "Now I want you folks to clear out and go on home. You done yer duty as citizens and turned him over to the law. I'll figure out what to do from here."

Grumbling, the people retreated back across the street, most of them going right back into the saloon.

Lefty smiled gratefully at the sheriff through the bars of the cell.

"Thanks, man," he said. "For a minute there I thought I'd have to make a run for it."

The sheriff sighed, and spoke without removing the cigar from his mouth. "It might've been better if you had," he said regretfully. "The Mayor was a friend a' mine. If it turns out you're guilty, you'll swing sure enough. And if that don't kill a feller like you, a stake surely will."

"So… just how do you plan to determine whether or not I'm guilty?"

"...Well… that's the pickle, ain't it? I s'pose I'll leave the decision up to the Mayor's widow."

"What!" Lefty gasped, indignant. "You think I'll get a fair trial from a grieving and most likely irrational woman? Are you nuts?"

"She's a good woman, Mr. Hunter. She won't condemn you 'less she's damned sure yer guilty."

A few hours later the Mayor's widow appeared, dressed in a black gown and shawl. Lefty looked up and met her gaze. Her eyes were the softest translucent blue, but their beauty was marred by the gleaming, reddish evidence of many tears recently shed. Even as she approached the cell, she raised a lacy white handkerchief to her face. Framed by the low-cut neck of the gown and the drape of the shawl, the lovely swell of her breasts jumped a bit due to her fluttery breathing.

"Oh come on," Lefty groaned loudly to the sheriff, who was escorting the woman towards him. "Do we have to do this right now? Can't you give her a day or two at least? Obviously she's in no condition to make a decision!"

"I'm fine," the woman said in a gentle voice. "Mr. Sheriff… please unlock the cell."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, ma'am."

"Bill, please."

Reluctantly the sheriff unlocked the cell, and the widow slipped inside. The door locked automatically as she pulled it shut. "Bill," she said quietly, her lips barely moving. "I would like to speak with him alone."

"Yes ma'am," the burly old sheriff said, tipping his hat. And just like that, Lefty and the lovely widow were alone.

He was sitting on the wide wooden bench that doubled as a cot. She drew closer to him, her skirts rustling softly with each graceful step. Silently she sat beside him on the bench, and removed her shawl. Her hair was golden blonde, long and wavy and free of ornaments.

"I'm Elsa," she said softly.

"Uhh…" Lefty said, unaware that his mouth was hanging open. Elsa averted her gaze from the hunter's face and looked sorrowfully at her hands in her lap.

"And you are the famous hunter known as 'D'," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "You're the last man my husband spoke with, before he… changed."

"Look, lady, I'll tell you the truth. I never met your husband. The man I met was a vampire pretending to be your husband."

She drew a sharp breath, which riveted Lefty's gaze to what was visible of her round, delicious-looking breasts. "I knew it," Elsa breathed. "I knew it wasn't really him! For weeks, he'd been… so cold towards me." Lefty wasn't really listening to her. He couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at a real live woman from such a rewarding angle. All he could do was stare… stare at her soft, warm bosom as it curved teasingly away from his sight, under the bodice of her black gown. God, black was a sexy color. She was probably 26 or 27-- she was so delicate, so temporary- like a butterfly or a blossom or a single snowflake- perfect for its moment, for its tiny span of existence, god, she was breathing a lot- up and down, oh, god, it was a beautiful sight! She finished her tearful monologue and took a deep, gasping, fluttery breath, and Lefty nearly passed out. "Are you all right?" she asked breathlessly.

"Guh, uhh, yup," Lefty said sheepishly, collecting his wits. "Just a little dizzy. You were saying?"

"Yes. My husband… for weeks before this… he wasn't quite himself."

"I see," Lefty said solemnly. -Your boobs! he added silently, and only just barely managed not to burst into laughter.

"When he woke up last night and told me he'd been turned into a vampire, he said… he kept saying over and over—'Elsa, it's me. It's me, Elsa, I love you!' but he insisted he'd been turned into a vampire--" she choked on her words and fell silent, tears trickling down her cheeks. She brought the handkerchief to her face again.

"Elsa, I'm so sorry," Lefty said gravely. "It seems your husband was a good man. It's a shame that this happened."

"Yes," she whispered through her tears. "But you are also a good man. And the way the people of this town wanted to blame you for what happened makes it even more of a shame. That's why… I came to apologize to you. If I had not kept my husband's strange behavior a secret over these past few weeks… perhaps none of this would have come to pass. I am so sorry for what you've been through. The people… I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive them."

Lefty's eyes widened. Something like a warm breeze filled the sails of his soul, and he wanted nothing more than to hug the woman beside him. So, he did.

Almost before she realized that he'd so much as moved, she found herself nestled against his chest, his arms holding her in, wrapped around her with no more pressure than the reassuring weight of a favorite coat.

Lefty opened his mouth to speak, to tell her to forget about it, to tell her that being despised and thrown in jail wasn't so bad, and all offenses were already, automatically, forgiven-- but suddenly he realized that he didn't want to say anything. Maybe it was true that there were no words for the very best of emotions. After a few minutes of sitting there like that, when the woman had made not the slightest effort to move or escape, it was obvious that she had no desire to be anywhere else in the world except in his arms. And gradually, Lefty's cynicism came back to him.

"Oh, sure," he muttered at length, absently smoothing Elsa's beautiful hair. "They all end up here but never get any further! He didn't say anything specifically about widows, but…"

"What was that?" Elsa asked softly, raising her head a little.

"It's nothing," Lefty said, and then cleared his throat. "Ahum." Gracefully he stood up, bringing her to her feet beside him and then gently separating her from his embrace. "You know, your husband… I'm sure he loved you."

"I know that he did," Elsa said softly.

"And he'd want you to go on and live your life happily."

"Yes," Elsa whispered, and suddenly the most gorgeous blush appeared on her fair face. "Mr. Hunter," she said, interlocking her fingers and staring down at them demurely. "I must confess… something about you… is a great comfort to my spirit. If you aren't in a hurry… I would be honored if you would stay as my guest for a few days…"

Lefty's shoulders slumped forward. "Oh my god," he said without thinking. "Could it really be that easy?"

"What?" Elsa asked, looking puzzled.

"Uh, oh, nothing. Um— it is I who would be honored to accept your hospitality, milady." He flashed a charming, heartfelt smile and couldn't help noticing that Elsa's pupils instantly dilated to twice their previous diameter in reaction.

Oh yes, it really could be that easy…

A/N: Hey, I never said this would be a good story. Still, this chapter amused me. The next chapter is so pathetic it's hilarious. (uh… in my opinion, at least.) The REALLY funny chapter, the one I actually wrote first, is chapter 6. Can you hang on that long? Thanks!