I never got back to the hotel room. I went straight to Maggie's house, fully intending to try and explain my debacle with breakfast earlier that morning. Instead, Maggie made me sit on the settee and drink coffee while she cooked breakfast for both of us, and I finally ate a home-cooked meal. After breakfast I helped her with the dishes and she seemed surprised when I rolled up my sleeves and offered to wash them.
"I was the youngest in the house, remember? I mighta gotten out of whatever mornin' chores I could, but washin' dishes became my job when Pappy ceded it to Bret and he insisted I had to help somewhere."
"I just can't imagine a man like you doing the dishes," she laughed as she went to dry the plates. "Sioux Falls preeminent gambler with my apron on at the kitchen sink."
"You know if ya spread that around town I'll hafta – "
"Do what?" she asked me innocently.
"This," I answered, and leaned over and kissed her. We were still standing there kissing, with my wet arms wrapped around her, when a persistent knock on the door interrupted us. Why am I always the victim of bad timing?
Maggie went to answer the door and I quickly dried my hands and took off her apron. Maggie seeing me that way was one thing. Everybody else . . . . . . . .
It was Dan Manning. Somehow that was no surprise to me, but what he had to say was. "I need to talk to ya, Maverick. I got another body on my hands."
"Come in, Sheriff," Maggie insisted. She wanted to close the door, and I didn't blame her. It was still freezing outside.
"Who now?" was my question.
"Bobby Durfee, one a the Bar J ranch hands. You know anything about it?"
I gave Manning a withering look. "Why would I know anything? I never met the man."
"Just seems awful suspicious. You an yer brother ride into town and the killin' starts."
I was tired of being accused of things I knew nothing about. "Did you talk to my brother? Maybe he knows somethin' about this Bobby fella."
Manning nodded his head. "That's why I'm here. I just came from Pete's. Yer brother don't know nothin' either."
"Look, Sheriff, I wish I could help. I really do. But I don't even know where the Bar J Ranch is, much less who your latest victim is. Surely you can find a more likely suspect than either of the Maverick brothers?"
Manning got this look on his face that I have no idea how to describe. Finally he nodded his head. "You got a point. I'm just tryin' to connect the dots here. Looks like none of 'em lead to you." He turned to Maggie. "Sorry, Maggie, for interruptin'. Just tryin' to do my job." And just as quickly as he'd arrived, the sheriff was gone.
"What do you suppose this is all about?" Maggie asked me.
"I wish I had an answer for ya, Maggie. I'm just as much in the dark as the sheriff. What do ya know about the guy that owns the Bar J?"
"Johnny Farrel? Do you really want to talk about Johnny Farrel?" She'd moved closer to me while asking her questions and was back in my arms, although this time my hands were dry. And the sheriff was gone.
XXXXXXXX
By the time I left Maggie's it was early afternoon, and I still hadn't gotten any sleep. I headed back to the hotel, determined to at least get a nap in, and was pleased to find the room empty. That meant Bret was feeling good enough to still be at Pete's, and I might actually get some rest. Sleep better come soon or I was going to be among the missing that night at poker.
I had just settled into the bed and gotten comfortable when I heard Bret's key in the door. I kept my eyes closed; hoping that he'd take the hint and let me 'sleep.' And for a few minutes after I heard him come in he actually did. I had just surrendered to the arms of Hypnos (Morpheus is the God of dreams, not sleep) when my brother yanked me back out. "Bart, Brother Bart, wake up. There's a wire here from Buckley you need to read."
"Huh? What?" Even though I had just fallen asleep it was a rather rude awakening. I had no sooner managed to open my eyes than a message from the telegram office was shoved into my hands. "What's it say?" I blinked sleepily.
"Read it yourself," was Bret's reply.
"Can't focus," I complained. Bret, bless his heart, took it back and read it out loud.
"Rally Simmons died at thirty-three. Your man must be older brother Evan. Con artist from way back. Have fun. Dandy."
"Ah, damn." My turn to use the word now. I tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes and sat up, more confused than ever. If Rally Simmons was really Evan Simmons, what was he doing in a town like Sioux Falls? And why had he been here so long? What was going on in this town that we hadn't found out about yet?
"Who is this guy?" Bret asked.
I blinked groggily. "I have no idea. Maybe I oughtta go find out."
"Might not be a bad idea. How long didja get to sleep?"
"About five minutes," I answered while I wiped my face down with the towel over by the wash basin.
"Five minutes? Where in the heck . . . . . . . never mind. Maggie whatshername."
"Sawyer, Brother Bret. Her last name is Sawyer. And just what have you been up to all this time?"
He grinned at me, then shifted his position and went "ouch." "Before or after Marshal irritating-as-all-get-out came to see me, you mean?"
"Never mind," I told him. When he starts getting cute with his answers, I know all I need to.
I really didn't want to make my second visit of the day to Doc Demmers office, but it seemed like I was going to. It was beginning to look less and less like poker was in this night's future. I got dressed, again, and told Bret, "Don't get comfortable. Yer goin' with me."
I helped him put his coat back on and grabbed mine. "Where we goin', by the way?"
"To the doctor's office," I told him, and he obediently followed me. "How's yer arm today?"
"Still hurts, if that's what ya mean."
"Doc can check it out while I talk to Simmons." I didn't know what to call him anymore. His name was Evan, but we all knew him as Rally. I opened the door when we got there and ushered Bret inside. Doc Demmers came out into the front room and brightened just a bit when he saw my brother.
"Mr. Maverick, come in, come in. I assume you want me to take a look at the arm?"
"Would you please, Doc? Brother Bart needs to cause more trouble with Simmons."
I needed to know something first. "Is June still here, Doc?"
"No, she left about thirty minutes ago. Is that important?"
I nodded. "It could be, Doc. I need to talk to your other patient again."
"He was awake just now, so go on in. Just remember – "
"I know. No upsetting the patient," I promised.
The patient was indeed awake. And he must have sensed that what was coming was going to be unpleasant in one way or another; there was a look on his face that I hadn't seen before. Fear.