Chapter 6

"I slept with faith and found a corpse in my arms on awakening; I drank and danced all night with doubt and found her a virgin in the morning."

Hotch had no idea how long it took, before he finally reached Strauss's ranch. His body ached, his skin was burned and he was exhausted beyond words. He stumbled against a horse that was drinking at a trough and ended up in the mud. Too exhausted to raise his head out of the puddle, he just tried to control the pain that had taken possession of him. But he needed to get up again. Needed to breathe, needed to open his eyes. He desperately needed to know who the dead body in the desert was. Her image was haunting him. Her head on the stick. Her dead eyes. The greedy birds that knew it was a festive meal, only served for them.

He didn't even know whose hands were helping him up and whose arms supported him on his way to the mansion where he was first cleaned and then brought to a large, comfortable bed. He tried to tell his saviours that they needed to call someone who would take care of the woman in the desert, but his words were swallowed by his dry lips and the swollen inside of his throat. He believed to hear the sound of a female voice, but it could be anyone who told him to get some rest and not to worry.

It could have been anyone.

Emily Prentiss wiped the sweat from her forehead after she had cleaned up the bar. The dust was relentless. But she was in the desert. So what did she expect? She was also tired, but she was guilty for keeping herself awake at night. Right now, while cleaning the bar, she wanted to believe that the last night and the night before had been nothing, but a surreal dream, but her aching body spoke the truth. She had gotten herself into real trouble and she enjoyed every stolen, painful moment of it.

"I see, you're still devoted enough to take care of this old joint."

Startled, Emily looked up. Erin Strauss stood only a few feet away. Emily hadn't heard her coming. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she had missed how the "Wicked witch of the west" had arrived. Erin Strauss hardly left her kingdom outside the town. And as always the Queen was impeccably dressed in her blue dress with the matching hat and a scarf that was beautifully arranged around her neck. The heat was unbearable and Emily asked herself why in hell's name, Erin Strauss didn't sweat like the rest of them. Maybe Strauss's hell was a cold place.

"Ma'am," Emily greeted her coldly.

"I just wanted to check on my new... business. How's everything going?"

"Fine."

"My men told me, the Saloon is still highly frequented at night. Seems the killings fuels people's wish for some distraction."

"That's possible. We can't complain. You do want to check the revenues?"

"Oh please," Erin returned, half disgusted, half amused. "Spare me your faked book keeping?. I bet half of what you earn at night, never finds its way into the books, but into your knickers. How are the girls?"

"Fine. Healthy."

"Good. Take good care of them. I don't want them to look like ten Dollar tarts. And you try to get some sleep. You look awfully exhausted." Erin smiled sweetly, as her eyes checked Emily out. The feeling that Erin thought of her as a ten dollar tart usually amused her, but today she felt as dirty, as the older woman saw her.

"Anything else?"

"Yes. There's one thing..." Erin cleared her throat. "Dave Rossi and his men are no longer welcome in here. Next time he or one his cockroaches shows up, kick them out. And if they don't leave, call the Sheriff."

Emily pursed her lips. "With all respect Ma'am, Rossi and his men are your best customers."

Everybody knew Rossi had been Erin's best customer in the old days, when she was running this place. Emily had a thing for irony and this was too funny for words.

Erin returned the subtle insult with a cold gaze. "In this case, you should acquire some new customers. David Rossi will never enter the bull pen again. And you and your girls won't serve him here or anywhere else. Is that understood?"

Emily nodded with a polite, jovial gaze. "As you wish. It's your party - and your money."

"I'm glad you seem to remember that. If you'll excuse me now, I have other things to do." She turned and left the Saloon with quick, determined steps, as Emily watched her with unhidden dislike.

On the other side of the room, JJ came down the stairs.

"What did she want?" She asked, when she reached the bar.

"I don't know..." Emily shrugged. "Maybe she wants to ensure a certain someone buys his treat at the right door." Emily gave JJ a smile. "And what about your favorite customer. I've seen Will last night. He looked quite worn out."

JJ sighed and heaved herself onto the next bar stool. "He's proposed to me. Again."

"And you turned him down. Again," Emily concluded.

"Yes, but I'm afraid I haven't been as nice as before."

"Believe me, they don't get it when you're nice."

"He's a good guy... sweet... but..." JJ shook her head, as she searched for the right words.

"Sometimes you just need more than good and sweet," Emily concluded. Hell, she understood what the younger woman meant. The good and the nice were easy to catch and even easier to hold. And both things were boring when a woman searched for the tingle down her spine and the blood rush in her veins.

"Yeah... I can't imagine leaving this place and play house wife... like Elle."

"Elle's another matter," Emily explained. "She's completely committed. She's everything we aren't."

"Seems so... but what about you. I saw this guy in your door this morning..." JJ smiled wickedly. "And I heard you more than once last night."

Though she was used to this kind of talk, Emily blushed. Ian Doyle wasn't a regular customer. He was different in every possible way.

"He's new in town. Has served some time. He needs some attention."

"Oh boy, I heard that. In case you need some rest...," she smiled mischievously. "I'll be happy to oblige."

Emily had no doubt about that. "I'll let you know," she gave back, knowing she would never share Ian Doyle. With anyone.

The air in the Sheriff's office was sticky. Flies were dancing around Ashley Seaver's head, as she told her story to Sheriff Gideon and Deputy Marshall Derek Morgan.

"My friend and I checked into the hotel yesterday. In the evening we went to the Saloon."

"Why?" Gideon asked. "It's hardly a place for two women who have just arrived in town."

"We needed some distraction," Ashley answered. "The trip was long. Anyway, we left soon after 11 pm and went to our room. When I woke up this morning, Jordan was gone."

"Is there someone who saw you when you returned to the hotel."

"There was a man behind the reception, but he was reading all the time."

"Kevin Lynch," Gideon explained to Morgan. "He's harmless and useless."

"Maybe we should talk to him. Maybe he saw her leaving," Morgan suggested.

"Would you do that?" Gideon asked. "I'll take care of Miss Seaver." He smiled at the young woman who blushed under his attentive gaze.

Morgan nodded. "And in case, Hotch shows up, tell him what happened."

Morgan wasn't happy with the lack of presence of his boss. It wasn't his style to leave just like that, but the note Morgan had found on his bed in the morning had been clear. He wanted to interview Strauss again and had left early to be back in town by noon.

When he accompanied Ashley Seaver back to her hotel, Gideon could hardly take his eyes off the young woman on his arm. He hardly found himself looking – no staring – at a woman, aside from Elle and even Elle was someone he only allowed himself to stare at when it was night and the rest of the world was shut out. Ashley Seaver was different, because he felt he already knew her. There was something awfully familiar about her. Her hair, her eyes, the way she moved, walked, talked.

"So what brings you into this valley?" Gideon asked, as he led her over the street.

"Many reasons," she replied avoiding a straight answer. The woman seemed to enjoy being a secret, but Gideon just didn't know whether she wanted to be mysterious or if she was hiding something.

"And what about your lost friend?"

"She's not really a friend. We just share some common interests," Ashley clarified. "We only met at the stage coach station two days ago."

"And yet you share a room in a hotel so shortly after your acquaintance?" Gideon was surprised.

"We got along and we didn't have much money. So we thought we could share the little we have."

"I see," he cleared his throat, as they reached the hotel He looked up the shady walls and said, "Allow me to give you some advice. The hotel isn't the best place to stay these days... the BullPen is cheaper, safer and a lot cleaner. I could talk to Emily Prentiss."

Ashley gave him a pensive look. She bit her lower lip and Gideon was sure, she had already thought about the same solution.

"Last night I didn't have the chance to talk to Miss Prentiss, but..."

"I'll be happy to help you," Jason said quickly. "Why don't you get your stuff?"

Ashley gave him a happy smile. "Thank you, Sheriff. I won't be long!"

Twenty minutes later, Gideon took Ashley and her small bag to the Bull Pen.

"The Saloon doesn't belong to Miss Prentiss anymore, but she's still in charge. I'm sure you can get some work here as well. She always needs a helping hand around here," Jason said, hoping Emily wouldn't immediately recruit her for the front line. Usually, the new girls started to work in the kitchen or behind the bar, before Emily decided if she could use them for other services. At least the Saloon was a better place than the hotel. All five victims had stayed in the hotel before they were killed, so being at Emily's could help Ashley to survive.

"It would be great, if I could find some work here," Ashley answered. "I'm willing to offer my help for the shelter. Tell me, Sheriff..." She paused when she realized that Gideon had stopped dead at the stairs that led up to the BullPen. She followed his gaze and swallowed when she saw the woman who stood in the middle of the porch. Her elegant appearance didn't fit the dusty and cheap environment, but she didn't seemed as misplaced, as she might have wanted to be.

"Erin," he greeted her in a composed manner, as he looked steadfastly at her. "You're in town."

Erin Strauss nodded slowly while she returned the gaze with the same intensity.

"Hello Jason. Yes, I had something to... something to do." She cleared her throat and then her eyes fell on Ashley, who seemed to be fascinated by the tension that built up between the Sheriff and the lady.

"And who are you, my dear?" Erin asked Ashley, as her eyes scanned the younger woman attentively.

"Ashley Seaver, Ma'am. I'm from Philadelphia."

"I see..." Gideon noticed the nervous flicker in Erin's eyes and narrowed his eyes. He knew Erin well enough to know that the girl had caught her interest.

"She'll stay in the BullPen for a while. Her friend's been lost since last night," he explained slowly.

Erin's eyes widened. "Another one?"

"Seems so, but we can't be sure," Jason answered. "I guess the BullPen is safer than the hotel. The Marshalls stay here as well."

"I know, Jason. I own this place." She smirked.

"Don't you own every place, that you enter, Erin?" Gideon asked, musingly.

"My, my... what do we have here?" Jason frowned when David Rossi's voice reached his ear.

David Rossi strolled non-nonchalantly along the porch and stopped next to Erin Strauss, whose face had become pale.

"I haven't seen you in town in years, Erin. What brings you here?" he asked rhetorically, before he turned to Jason and Ashley. "And whom do we have here?" he added, as he took Ashley's hand to place a kiss on its back.

"Ashley Seaver, this is David Rossi," Gideon introduced them. "David is my half-brother. More half than brother actually."

"Miss Seaver, I'm delighted to make your acquaintance. What brings you into this town."

"An utterly private matter." Ashley answered kindly, but straight. Which caused Rossi to chuckle.

"If you excuse us now," Jason said and took Ashley's arm. "We need to talk to Miss Prentiss."

"Pleasure to meet you," Rossi made a small bow and raised his white hat, as Ashley passed him.

"I'm glad you're here," Erin said, when she was sure that Ashley and Jason couldn't hear them anymore.

"Ah, really?" Dave asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, because that way I can tell you in person that I ordered Emily to kick you and your men out the next time one of [you] enters the Saloon. The Bull Pen is off limits for you. From now on and forever!"

Rossi laughed and leaned against the banister. "And why's that?"

"Just because. You and your men are infamous for making trouble and since I own this place now, I want to establish some... peace. Stay away from the Bull Pen, David. I'm serious."

"That's ridiculous, Erin. Without my men the Saloon will be bankrupt by the end of the month."

"So be it."

Without giving him another look, Erin stepped down the porch. Away from him and away from the place that had been the very beginning of them. "Now I know what this is about," he said, and followed her onto the street.

"You think by getting rid of off the Saloon, you'll get rid of off your past and me, but that's not true, Erin."

He grabbed her arm and turned her to him. "I meant what I told you last night. We can own this valley!"

She wished she could tell him last night wasn't a particular good seller. The thought what they had done the night before, should make her deeply ashamed, but to her dismay there was a big part within her that had utterly enjoyed their romp in front of her front door. She hadn't had a real man in ages and he had reminded her about a time when she never had to miss out on male attention.

The problem was, with him, she became ruthless and uncaring. He used to turn her head and made her weak. Like last night. And she needed to put a stop to it, before it became even more obvious to him that he could turn her into a wanton whore without any will-power. Twenty years ago, he had almost cost her her life. Today she was older, wiser and a little less stupid.

"There's no way, I'll become your wife. Stay away from me, David. I mean it." She shook his hand off and went quickly down the street to the Sheriff's office.

**tbc**