Kiss of Death----15

Buck held the reins of the horse as he drove the buggy towards town. His new wife sat beside him, but few words were exchanged between them as the town loomed in the distance. They'd passed several other couples walking and riding and acknowledged them with a tip of the hat or a simple wave of the hand.

"You're too quiet today, Buck, what's wrong?"

"How can you even ask me that, Angela?" Wilmington asked not bothering to look at the woman as his voice was edged with bitter defeat.

"Perhaps we should go home. It wouldn't do for people to see you unhappy so soon after we married," the woman said coldly.

"No, I'll put on a good show for you, Angela, but you need to know that that's all it is, an act and God help me, but I'll see it through."

"I'm sure you will, but you also need to think about Chris and what I can do for or to him."

"That's always on my mind, Angela," the gentle rogue said as they drew up alongside another buggy. He quickly climbed out, threw the reins over the itching post and reached up to help her from the buggy. He could feel the townspeople watching him and made a show of pulling her close and walking towards the small church with her. He spotted Evan Rawlings and smiled as the man linked arms with Martha Collins. The two seemed well suited and he hoped they could find happiness together.

"Buck, are you listening to me?"

"Sorry, I was just thinking about Evan and Miss Collins."

"They do make a handsome couple, don't they?"

"Yeah, they do," he said wistfully as they entered the church and took seats halfway up the aisle. Ethan and Martha quickly joined them exchanged pleasantries before Phillip Collins stood before the congregation and began to speak.

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Ethan Turner groaned as he dismounted and stepped inside the line shack. He knew he was later getting back than he should have been and was glad Clark was not there. He'd fallen off his horse and slept several hours before coming to and blinking his eyes against the blinding sunlight stabbing at his skull. His big bay was standing a few yards away feeding on the grass it found there. It didn't take long for him to grab the reins and mount up, but the ride back had been nothing but pure torture.

Turner enter the shack and heard someone talking, but quickly realized it was just Larabee speaking to someone only he could see. He walked to the bed, swayed and rubbed at tired eyes before finally focusing on his charge.

"Damn, ya'd best not die on me ya bastard! I got plans for the money she's givin' me!" He looked around the shack and tried to think past the headache and sour stomach and realized he needed to make sure the bandages were changed and Larabee drank something before he could give into his own body's need for sleep. Taking the bucket from the table he hurried outside to the well and drew fresh water. He hurried back inside and started a fire before hanging a kettle of water over it. While he waited for the water to heat he went back to the injured man and pulled back the covers. His fever was still high and tiny beads of sweat ran down the pale cheeks.

With a put-upon sigh he sat down and began bathing the glistening chest and washing away the evidence of Larabee's fever.

"Should be me lyin' down, Larabee, but if that bitch comes out here and sees ya like this she's li'ble ta tear a few strips from my hide."

Chris found himself dragged from his quiet dream as something was roughly washed over his body. He struggled to get away, but quickly realized there was no escape and this nightmare was very real. Forcing heavy lids to rise he stared at the shadowy figure sitting beside the bed. The man was muttering something with each swipe of the cloth, but Chris could not make sense of his slurred words. He knew there was no point in fighting him, and right now he didn't have the strength to do so. He drifted in fevered delirium, but was dragged towards consciousness once more as something was placed at his lips. He drank without fighting and gasped as the slightly too warm liquid flowed down his throat. He knew to get sick would probably kill him because there was no doubt in his mind that his tormentor would and could easily lose his temper. All of this ran through Chris' mind until finally his head was released and he was allowed to seek out his dreams once more.

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Rosemary silently cursed as she looked at her husband. Joseph had never shown any backbone where she was concerned, but the last few days he'd become increasingly dominating and wanted her to break all ties with Angela Tate. She couldn't let him ruin something that had been a saving grace in her life at a time when she had nothing to fall back on. Since their first meeting in St. Louis the two women had bonded and vowed they would always be there for each other. She gently straightened the blankets over him as she listened to him once more.

"Rosemary, did you hear what I said?"

"I heard you, Joseph, I just don't know what to say."

"Tell me you'll do as I say," Clark told his younger wife.

"I can't, Joseph. Angela and I have been through too much to throw it all away because you're nervous about what you know."

"Nervous? No, it goes beyond nervous. I thought I knew you and could change you, but after seeing the way you've been acting I find I don't know you at all."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't show any remorse for what you've done. If anything you seem to be enjoying yourself. I won't be a party to it anymore and as soon as I get into town today I'm going to speak with Sheriff Rawlings."

"You can't mean that, Joseph!"

"I can and I do, Rosemary. I will not allow you two to hurt anyone else. How many have there been? Can you even answer that?"

"No, but there haven't been that many and they left us no choice."

"What about Larabee and Wilmington? What did they do to you?"

"Nothing to me, Joseph, but Wilmington bedded Angela and then told her he would not marry her! Don't you see we had to do something or her reputation in Midfield would be ruined!"

"She must have been a willing partner…"

"That may be, but only because she loved him and thought they were going to be wed! He used her and we had to do something to make sure her reputation was untarnished."

"Is her reputation worth a man's life?"

"Tell me Joseph, would we be having this conversation if the roles were reversed and Angela or I were the ones in their position?"

"Of course we would! This has to stop before anyone else is killed, Rosemary. Come see Sheriff Rawlings with me and we'll get this straightened out."

"I'll go to jail, Joseph."

"Not if I can help it," Clark said as a sharp pain raced through his chest. He groaned and sank back onto his chair, as the pain grew worse. He looked up at his wife and saw the smile on her face as she held a small vile in front of his eyes.

"Is something wrong, Joseph?"

"Wh…what did you d…do?" the older man asked as cramping pain cut through his gut.

"I've grown tired of waiting for you to die, so I just gave you a little something to help you along. Is there much pain…I did not really mean for you to suffer so, but I refuse to let you ruin things for Angela and I. We will be leaving before long, but I will stay around to see that you have a proper burial. After all you have been a good husband. Sh," she placed her hand over his lips as he tried to talk and leaned down to kiss him once more. "Save your strength, Joseph, although there is really no need. I will send for Dr. Morton shortly, but first I need to be sure it is too late to help you. I'll make you proud of me though. I'll play the distraught widow so well the town of Midfield will be in danger of flooding. They'll come to help me and mourn your passing, but it will be easier that you passed with the woman you love by your side."

"W…won't b…believe you," the dying man gasped as he clutched at his chest. Now he knew why she had served him breakfast in bed. It would be easy for her to tell her story and have people believe he had truly had a peaceful passing.

"Yes, they will, Joseph, you see I will put on a performance that would take your breath away if you had any left in you, but I don't think you hear me even now. Thank you for giving me some good years, but now I must grieve your passing and look to my future." Rosemary let the tears fall and hurried out of the bedroom. She threw open the doors and called for help and was relieved to see Matthew Jennings racing towards the house.

"What's wrong, Mrs. Clark?"

"Oh, Matt, he's…it's Joseph…he…he…oh God send someone for Dr. M…Morton!"

"What's wrong?" the ranch hand repeated as the woman trembled at his touch.

"It's Joseph. I woke up before him and had Maria make breakfast for us, but Joseph seemed t…to be s…sleeping a…and he's b…been do tired lately that I…I just didn't want to wake him, but he was so happy when I brought his breakfast t…to him."

"What are you trying to say, Mrs. Clark?"

"H…he's gone, Matt. He's dead…oh, God," She wilted towards the ground and he caught her and lifted her into his arms and carried her inside.

Matt moved towards the spare bedroom and placed her on the bed before getting Maria to come sit with her. Once he was sure the woman was taken care of he hurried to the bedroom and found Joseph Clark propped up on pillows. His eyes were open and unseeing and Jennings knew before he checked that the man was dead. Taking a deep breath he removed the tray and covered the man's body with the blanket. He knew they needed to get the doctor out to look at Mrs. Clark and make sure things were arranged for the man's burial. Turning away from the room he headed outside to assign the tasks to other ranch hands and to send a message to Angela Wilmington.

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Angela looked at the young man who rode swiftly towards them. She recognized him as one of Clark's hands and knew something was wrong as he drew abreast of the buggy.

"Afternoon, Ma'am, Mr. Wilmington."

"Good afternoon, Walter, is something wrong?"

"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Jennings sent me to fetch ya back to the ranch."

"Why? Is she ill?" Angela asked.

"It's Mr. Clark, Mrs. Ta…Wilmington. Seems he died this morning and she's very distraught."

"Oh, Buck, would you drive me over there?"

Wilmington nodded as he tried to read the look on the woman's face. He'd seen a slight smile before a mask of grief descended and the woman acted as if she was truly saddened at the news. "Course I will."

"I'm gonna go on into town and fetch Reverend Collins and Doc Morton," Walter Hastings advised.

"Thank you, Walter," Angela said as her husband flicked the reins and the horse started forward again. She watched the handsome rogue's face and knew something was running through his mind. "Buck, what are you thinking about?"

"Joseph seemed fine when they left the other day."

"Yes, but he had a weak heart according to Dr. Morton."

"That right? He sure didn't show any sign of that when he was dancing with Rosemary."

"What are you trying to say, Buck?"

"Did she kill him, Angela?"

"Of course not! Rosemary may be much younger than Joseph, but she loved him as much as I love you."

"You got a funny way of showing love."

"What do you mean?" She asked indignantly and heard a harsh laugh escape.

"I'd answer that, but I'm afraid of what you'd do to Chris."

"Buck, I am giving you a chance to speak whatever is on your mind with a promise that for the moment nothing will happen to Chris Larabee. If you have anything you want to get off your chest you'd better do it now while I'm in the right frame of mind!"

"Chris won't be hurt?"

"No, it stays right here, but once we reach Rosemary's things return to the way they are supposed to be and Chris will pay for what you do or say there."

"I thought I knew you, Angela, but the woman I knew and loved wasn't real was she?"

"She was, but she hasn't existed since she was forced into a loveless marriage and had to run away from home at fourteen because she killed her husband. I won't lie and say it was an accident, because that would be a lie. I killed him because he thought he owned me and could do what he wanted to me. The final straw for me was when he bit me so badly he drew blood and laughed at me when I tried to cover myself. I ran away, changed my name and became Angela Tate when I met you in Midfield. I ran off with Robert Stratton because he had money and I craved that kind of life, but I found that having was not the same as wanting."

"So what happened to Stratton?"

"He died…and no I didn't kill him, not directly anyway. Rosemary and I knew we were going to be blamed and I took what money I could and came back here. Do you want to know why?"

"Because of me?"

"That's right. All the while I was married to Robert I dreamed it was your arms that held me and I knew I had to find you again. We settled down here even after I resigned myself to not finding you. Angela met and married Joseph and I bought the ranch we live in and was content with my life until I saw the story about you and Four Corners. I knew fate meant for us to be together again."

"How many people have you two murdered, Angela?"

"That's a loaded question, Buck, and one I'm not going to answer."

"Did she kill Joseph?"

"I won't answer that one either, Buck, and if that's the kind of questions you insist on asking then this ends now."

"You said it would last until we reached the Clark place."

"I'm changing my mind, Buck, so you've been warned! Watch what you say!"

Wilmington lapsed into silence as he continued to drive the buggy past the Tate ranch and further along the trail towards the Clark place. His mind kept turning to Chris Larabee and he wondered if the blond was still alive. He felt Angela move closer to him and wanted more than anything to push her away, but thoughts of retaliation made him grin and bear it.

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Ethan Turner wiped his lips as he sat on the chair watching for Rosemary Clark. The woman was later than normal and he was beginning to think she wasn't going to show up as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Larabee was unnaturally quiet since he'd given him the laudanum and herbs she'd left for him. Turner was enjoying the quiet, but as the day drew towards an end he was desperate to go into town and get a drink. He shook his head angrily at being stuck at the line shack and made up his mind to give Clark another hour and if she didn't show up he'd take off into town and if she came out he'd just tell the woman he'd been looking for her so she could come out and check on Larabee.

Smiling, Turner stood up and went back inside where he heated water and began preparing the herbal mixture he'd force on the injured man. It would not take long and he'd be on his way into town within the hour.

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Buck watched as Angela and Rosemary sat in the parlor of the Clark home. There had been a lot of visitors throughout the day until Angela insisted that her friend needed to rest. Reverend Collins and his sister were among the last to leave and again Buck noticed that Evan Rawlings was paying rapt attention to the preacher's sister.

"Buck, would you bring Rosie and myself some tea."

"It's been such a trying day I would prefer something a little stronger," Clark said as she smiled at her friend.

"Sure, Rosie, anything you wish."

"Brandy, a big one," the other woman said and pointed towards the table that held a variety of liquor.

"Oh that sounds wonderful," Angela said, smiling at her husband as he quickly poured them each a drink. "Perhaps you should spend the next few days at our home."

"Thank you, Angela, but I wouldn't dream of interfering with your wedded bliss," Clark said as she smiled and motioned towards Wilmington.

"How is he behaving?"

"Very well. In fact at church this morning he was more than attentive and if I hadn't insisted on behaving in a dignified fashion I believe we would have been driven out of town. It was wonderful," Angela explained.

"Sounds like Buck knows who is in charge here."

"I think he's beginning to realize his choices are very limited. I think he's worried about Chris today."

"I'm afraid with everything that's happened I've been unable to check on him, but I'm sure Ethan is taking very good care of him."

"I'll ride out there tomorrow before the funeral while Buck makes sure you're taken care of."

"I'd like to see him," Wilmington said and heard the two women laugh.

"That's out of the question right now, Lover. Right now I don't have the time to let you visit him, but if you prefer I'll stay here as well and we can leave your friend in Turner's not so capable hands. It's your choice, Buck, but keep in mind that it is in my best interests to make sure Chris stays alive. So what's your pleasure?"

"You go check on him," Wilmington said, shoulder slumping in defeat as he glared at the two people he hated above all else.

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Vin, Josiah, and Ezra rode into the sleepy little town and looked around. None of the men was all that impressed with what they saw, but looks could be deceiving. The trio headed towards the only place that seemed to still have any life and watched as a man stumbled through the door and landed in a heap on the ground.

Tanner caught sight of a slight movement in the shadows of the alley between the saloon and the mercantile and dismounted as the drunk staggered towards the lone horse tied to the hitching post. He heard Josiah and Ezra dismount and hurry past him.

"Are you coming, Vin?"

"Gimme a minute, Josiah," Tanner said as he watched the shadows for further movement. The drunk seemed unaware of the person watching him and Vin looped Peso's reins over the post and sauntered slowly towards the alley. He knew whatever was going on was none of his business, but his instincts were not to be ignored. Again the drunk tried to mount up, but was unable to do so as he slid to the ground and lay still. Vin turned towards the alley as the shadow moved out into the street and was bathed in the meager light coming from the swinging batwing doors. "Friend a yers?"

"No, just someone I needed to find out more about."

"Ya the law here?"

"Have been for near on fifteen years! Names Evan Rawlings. Give me a hand to get this one into a cell so he can sleep it off."

"Sure, name's Vin Tanner, my friends and I are lookin'…"

"Vin Tanner. Damn, talk about coincidences. I was gonna telegram Four Corners first thing in the mornin'. Is Chris with you boys?"

"No, he's s'posed ta be here with Buck."

"Damn, I was afraid of that. All right, let's get him locked up and I'll buy you boys a drink and we'll talk about what's been happening here." The two men dragged Turner towards the jail and locked him inside the single cell before crossing the street and entering the saloon once more. Vin spotted Josiah and Ezra at a back table and hurried to join them.

"Friend of yours, Vin?" Sanchez asked.

"Josiah, Ezra, this here's the law in these parts. Think maybe he has some news 'bout Buck and Chris."

"Evan Rawlings. I may have news, but I'm not so sure it's gonna do anything to ease your minds any."

"So Mister's Larabee and Wilmington did visit your town," Standish stated.

"Yeah, they did. Saw Chris a day or two after he arrived. Didn't seem real happy and said he was sending a message. I take it you boys never got that message," Rawlings asked.

"Haven't heard from either of them since they left Four Corners," Sanchez answered worriedly.

"I take it they are no longer here?" Standish asked.

"Buck is. Got himself hitched a few days ago…"

"Buck got married?" Sanchez asked incredulously and saw the disbelief on Tanner and Standish's faces. They all knew Buck had feelings for Angela Tate, but could not believe he would have married the woman without letting them know.

"He sure did."

"Was Mr. Larabee at the happy nuptials?" the gambler asked.

"No, and Buck was acting kind of strange."

"How so?" Tanner asked.

"It was like he was forcing himself to smile and I swear he shied away from his new wife, now does that sound like a man who's happy he's getting married?" Rawlings asked.

"Sounds more like a man who is being forced into doing something he has no desire to do," Standish said.

"That's what I thought. I figured something was wrong, but couldn't get a chance to speak with Buck alone. Angela was always with him. Buck asked me to stand with him, and I think that's when I knew something was really wrong, because he'd said Chris was going to stand for him. There's something else too."

"What?" Sanchez inquired.

"Angela's friend is a woman named Rosemary Clark. They came here together and Rosemary married a rancher named Joseph Clark. They bought the hotel here in town and run the telegraph office as well."

"What does all of this have to do with Chris and Buck?" the ex-preacher asked.

"I'm getting to it. I've been leery of those two since they came here, but could never prove anything. Even the telegrams I sent came back saying Rosemary and Angela were exactly who they claimed to be. I think that was because my messages were never sent. Joseph Clark died today. Now I'm not saying there was anything wrong about how he died, but coming so close to Chris' disappearance it kinda tells me there's two skunks loose and Buck and Chris are knee deep in something they can't get out of without help."

"So who was the man we put in your jail?" Tanner asked.

"His name is Turner. Not too sure about his first name, but he's been around a couple of years. He's got one of them faces that makes you think he's a kid, but he's older than that and I'm thinkin' he knows where Chris is!" Rawlings was shocked at how quickly the three men came to their feet. He stood and blocked the exit as best he could, but knew there would be no stopping them if they really wanted to go through him. He had never been a coward, but there were times like this when a man should just back off.

"I believe it would be beneficial to your health if you remove yourself from our presence," Standish blustered.

"What are you boys planning?" Rawlings asked.

"Got a few questions fer Turner!" the Texan spat.

"He's in no shape to answer questions and if he's working for Angela Tate and Rosemary Clark then he's not gonna be all that willing to talk to you."

"We know how to handle men like Turner," Sanchez advised.

"I'm sure you do, but if you sit down I'll tell you what I've got planned and I think you'll find my plans a lot simpler than yours."

"Got five minutes!" Tanner advised as he sat back down.

"I figure we let Turner wake up on his own or if you're in such an all fired hurry to get moving we can douse him with water and I can tell him to move on. When he leaves we can follow at a safe distance and hope he leads us to Chris."

"Sounds like a good plan," Sanchez said. "Vin, think you can track him in the dark?"

"No problem. Sheriff…"

"Call me Evan."

"Evan, how sure are ya that this guy is workin' fer them two women?"

"Pretty damn sure considerin' how many times I've seen him visit Rosemary Clark at the telegraph office," Rawlings explained.

"Any way you can get a message to Buck?" Sanchez asked.

"Not without his wife 'round. Least she'll be busy with her friend and Joseph's funeral."

"Will Mr. Clark be buried in the town cemetery?" Standish asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Perhaps it would be prudent if you and I remained in town. I believe Mr. Wilmington would be quite relieved if he knew he had assistance without alarming Mrs. Wilmington."

"He's right, Evan," Sanchez said and reached for his drink.

"Ya sure yer all right with stayin' in town, Ez?" Tanner asked.

"I believe it will be for the best," Standish said. The four men stood up and walked towards the door as the barman ushered out the last two men.

It was nearly two in the morning and the moon was shining over his head when Ethan Turner grumbled about needing a drink and mounted his horse. Without a backwards glance he turned his horse out of town and headed towards the trail that led to the line shack, unaware of the two men waiting in the alley.

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Chris shivered as if cold, yet beads of sweat were evident on his forehead and chest. The pillow below his head was soaked with perspiration as the blond head shook back and forth. He mumbled words that sounded as if they were being forced through a throat that had seized up and yet no one was there to hear him. He opened his eyes and tried to moisten his lips, but there didn't seem to be any moisture to be found.

The room he was in was dark, but he tried to focus his eyes and find his captor. He needed something to drink, but there was no one there to help him. Alone in the darkness he reached for the only source of light left to him and a softly whispered name followed him.

"Sarah…"

TBC