I left Pete's and went to the telegraph office, taking a few minutes to write out two wires. The first was to Jim Buckley, who was in St. Louis the last I heard. The second was to Casey Manfred, a friend of mine in San Francisco. Both asked them to find out all they could about Rally Simmons and his brother, respectively. If Rally was his real name, Dandy should be able to dig up something. Casey would have a more difficult time, since we only had the last name to go on and San Francisco was considerably harder to track someone down in.
I'd finally had more than I could stand. Back to the hotel I went; my head hurt and I was having a problem standing up and not getting dizzy. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I needed some sleep.
It must have been two or three hours later when there was a soft but persistent knocking at our door. Bret wasn't in the room and he wouldn't have knocked, so I grabbed my Colt and yelled, "Who is it?" Nobody answered, but the knocking started again. I got out of bed and cocked the hammer on the gun, then cautiously opened the door. June Morgan stood there looking up at me. "Why didn't you answer me, June?" I asked her as I released the hammer on the Colt and opened the door to her.
She hurried into the room and sat down in the chair by the window. She shivered and I realized the fire had died again, so I put my coat around her shoulders and then stoked the fire back to life. "It'll be warm in a few minutes," I promised. I pulled another chair closer to the fireplace and got her to move, then I picked up the empty chair and moved it, too. "Warmer?"
June nodded. "Were you asleep?" she asked me.
I picked right then to yawn. "Yes. Did you need me for somethin', June?"
She shoved some folded-up papers at me. I opened them; it took me a minute to focus. When I could finally read them, I almost laughed. If these were the ownership papers that Constance hid it sure didn't take June long to find them.
"What about them?"
"Read them," she instructed me, and I did. They said exactly what Connie had told us, that the ownership of Pete's was split 50-50, but Connie had control of the saloon. There was nothing underhanded in what was being done with the property, and nothing in the documents for June to be upset about. Unless she wanted to dispose of her half. According to the papers, Constance had first right of refusal if June was going to sell. Then why hadn't June just sold to Connie?
"Alright, I've read them." It was finally starting to warm up in the room and June took my coat off. "Now what?"
"Does it say I can't sell my half of Pete's?" She stuck out her chin defiantly.
"No, June, it doesn't say that. It says you can sell your half, but you have to offer it to Constance first. If she doesn't wanna buy it, then you can sell it to anyone else. Have you talked to Constance about sellin' your half to her?"
"Does it really say that? That I have to sell it to Connie?"
"No, it says you have to offer it to her. If she refuses to buy it, then you can sell it to anyone you want."
"Oh." She sat there for a moment, trying to figure out her next move. "Would you buy it?"
"Depends on how much you want for it," I told her. I couldn't imagine Connie not wanting to buy the other half of her father's saloon.
"Okay. So I have to talk to her about buying it from me?"
I nodded gently. My head felt better, but the headache wasn't completely gone. "Don't you and your sister live together?"
"Yes and no. We live in the same house. I stay in my room when she's home."
"Why do you do that, June? Your sister loves you. I'm sure she'd like to see and talk to you when she's home."
"No. She doesn't want to talk to me. Just yell at me. She yells because I don't want the saloon. She yells because I don't do the dishes right. She yells because I want a puppy. She really yells when I talk about Rally. I don't want to hear her yell, so I stay in my room. Or I go to Rally's house."
"What do you do at Rally's house, June?"
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Actually I would." I was still trying to find out if June and Rally . . . . . .
"So you can tell Constance?"
"I won't tell Constance." I hope she believed me. I wanted to gain her trust, and if this was the only way I could do it I was willing to keep her secrets.
"Well, we - "
That was as far as she got. Bret picked that exact moment to open the door and June jumped up, terrified. As soon as he walked into the room she fled, running past him before he could close the door and shut her in.
"Good timing," I told him.
"How was I supposed to know?" he asked, sounding irritated. "Have you turned into her best friend? She shot me, ya know."
"I know she did, Bret. But she was just about to tell me what she did at Rally's house."
I heard a very soft "damn" under his breath. "She tell you where Simmons was?"
"I didn't ask her."
"I suppose it's too much to ask what she wanted?"
"She wanted me to read these," and I handed him the papers she'd given me. "Constance didn't hide 'em real well."
"Damn," for the second straight time, this one a little louder. "I'll give these back to Constance."
"No, you won't," I told him, taking the documents out of his hands. "June gave 'em to me, and I'm gonna give 'em back to her. I answered her questions; she has no further use for 'em. I think she'll put 'em back where she found 'em."
"Why did she come to you? You're the one that chased her yesterday mornin'."
I'd already given that some thought. "I may be the closest thing she's got to a friend right now. She thinks her sister hates her. She's afraid of you, and at the moment Rally's among the missin'. That leaves me."
"True. Alright, I'll keep quiet for now. Are you playin' poker tonight?"
"Yep. I'm hopin' Simmons finally shows up. But I gotta get ready and get outta here. I have an appointment at eight o'clock."
That elicited a grin from him. "Maggie Sawyer?"
"Maybe." I wasn't in the mood to give him any satisfaction.
"I'm gonna catch a couple hours sleep. Why didn't you ever tell me what hard work it is carryin' yer arm around in a sling?"
"That's one a those things ya just hafta learn for yourself, Pappy."
The grin was gone and he just looked tired. When was the last time my brother slept? Right after he was shot this mornin'. That was a long, long day. "If I'm still asleep whenever you get back – "
"I'll get you up," I finished for him. I ran my hands through my hair and changed coats. "That'll hafta do for now. I don't wanna stop you from gettin' yer beauty sleep."
Bret threw a wet towel at me. "Get out."
So I did.