Disclaimer: Magnificent Seven (TV) does not belong to me. This is fan fiction, not for profit. Any references to people, places, businesses, etc. are entirely fictitious.
Story Title: Next Time
Chapter 3: Later That Night
…a little subtlety is in order
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"Now where did Ben go?" muttered Chris.
The black clad man looked around the Grand Hotel's lobby. Ben had just gotten back from the telegraph office and now he was gone again. A couple of the wing backed chairs were occupied. A man sat reading a newspaper. A woman sat with a large valise at her feet. Probably waiting for the man now checking in thought Chris. The rest of the chairs were vacant. A pair of brass spittoons flanked the open doorway from the lobby to the hotel dining room. The door to the street swung open as another traveler entered. Chris's eyes narrowed at the sight on the boardwalk outside. Ben talking earnestly with a petite woman in a flounced blue dress. And was he holding her hand?
"Aw, hell no," groused Chris.
Was this why they paid for two separate rooms? No! Chris had promised Ezra he'd keep an eye on the youth. Chris breezed past the incoming man. His long legs carried him across the lobby and out the door. Ben looked up in surprise as he stomped down the steps.
"Mr. Larabee?" greeted Ben. "To what do I owe the pleasure…"
Hmpph, Ben had been calling him Chris just like Billy did for the past ten years. When did he get so formal? The black clad youth stepped in front of the lady, but not before Chris got a glimpse of her. Not some painted lady he realized. The dark-haired girl looked to be about Ben's age. She flashed a fan in front of her face and lowered her eyes demurely as a well brought up young lady would. But a well brought up young lady wouldn't be traipsing through the streets of Tucson by herself. And there was something… Chris couldn't quite figure it out, but somehow… she looked a little familiar.
"Aren't you gonna introduce me to your friend?" prodded Chris.
"Of course."
Ezra's son didn't bat an eyelash as he made formal introductions.
"Mr. Christopher Larabee of Four Corners…"
Ben flourished one hand towards the young woman.
"Allow me to present Miss Lucinda Sutton of the Prescott Suttons."
With a return look from Lucinda to Chris, Ben spoke again.
"Miss Sutton, allow me to present Mr. Christopher Larabee, a renowned shootist and rancher of Four Corners."
Hmmph. Ben's extreme politeness was certainly telling Chris to keep his distance. Why? Surely, he didn't think Chris was gonna try something with this young chit! And Chris noted Ben didn't say anything about the Prescott Suttons. Did he not know what the family did? Or was the youth hiding something?
"Charmed, I'm sure," replied a soft voice.
The fan still hid the lower part of her face as the girl held out a small hand encased in white kid gloves. Chris reached for the tips of her fingers, not quite touching them. He had manners. Didn't always feel compelled to use them, but he had 'em. The hazel-eyed man bowed over the delicate hand. Hoped when the time came, at some far, far future date, that his daughters would be treated with the same courtesy.
"Pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Sutton," grated out Chris.
The lean man straightened up and looked from Ben to Miss Sutton.
"Didn't know you knew anyone in Tucson…"
Chris deliberately didn't finish his question, wanting to see how the pair before him would react. He wasn't disappointed.
"I don't…"
"I'm not from Tucson…"
The two looked at each other. Then their hands clasped together, fingers entwined before they looked back at Chris. Ben's chin tilted upwards and his eyes met Chris's. The girl's gaze turned away in seeming shyness.
"Miss Sutton and I met at a school social last fall," Ben explained. "We are both the only students from Arizona territory in our respective colleges."
Chris allowed a small smile to grace his features. He held back a belly laugh. Had Ben told his family about this young woman yet? His stomach rumbled.
"I'm hungry," Chris gestured to the windows of the hotel's restaurant. "What do two you say about some supper?"
They both spoke at once.
"Oh no, my sister allowed that I could only visit a few minutes…," Miss Sutton shook her head.
"I promised to return Miss Sutton to her sister…," objected Ben.
Ben gestured vaguely down the busy street. And while Chris was glad to know Miss Sutton hadn't been on her lonesome, there it was again realized Chris. That indefinable something. This was more than two homesick kids maybe falling for each other. But what? Chris tried hard to keep the frown from his face. He directed his words to Ben.
"Best get her on back then," ordered Chris. Letting Ben know he was expected back and soon, he added, "I'll be waiting for you inside. Don't be long."
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"Wha…"
Chris woke in the unfamiliar hotel room. Some small noise had put him on alert. Not the rocking of the bedframe in the room to his left. Something from the room to his right, Ben's room. A door clicked shut.
"Hell no," he groaned. "It's the middle of the night!"
Chris rolled out of bed. He ran a hand through his sandy blond hair and reached for his black pants.
"Alex is only nine," he grumbled.
He hurriedly pulled on his trousers over his union suit, then his boots. He reached for his shirt next as he peered out the window. Ben stepped out into the street.
"Thought I wasn't gonna have to do anything like this for a least a few more years."
Chris raced down the stairs after the youth. He reached the street in time to see Ben turn a corner. He paused just a moment to buckle his holster before moving after his quarry.
"Where you going?" muttered Chris.
He peered around the corner. Thankfully Ben was still in sight. A slim dark figure met him. The two continued walking, their hands brushing up against each other from time to time.
"Clandestine meetings in the middle of the night ain't gonna make you any points with her pa," grumbled Chris as he followed them. "Nor yours I reckon."
Chris followed the pair until they reached the jail. He crept closer, keeping to the shadows. The slim girl, dressed in black pants and shirt, stayed nearly invisible by the stairs. Chris raised an eyebrow as he realized she was on watch. Ben went up to the door and began to finagle with the lock.
"Tell me you're not breaking into the jail," groaned Chris in a low voice.
Please, don't be going after Ella. Vengeance isn't worth getting yourself locked up or worse yet hung. Despite his own quest years ago to find the murderer of Sarah and Adam, Chris hadn't been able to pull the trigger when he had Ella in his sight. He hadn't been able to urge Travis to hang Ella when they had her locked up. If he had, would Maude still be alive? Ben pushed the door open, then beckoned the girl.
"Luce," hissed Ben.
The young woman joined Ben in front of the door. For the first time, as Chris crept closer he realized she was armed. Like Maude, Lucinda carried a derringer.
"I thought I heard something," she warned.
"Watch from here, if you see anyone, make a noise, then run," directed Ben. "I should only be a few minutes..."
And then… their lips brushed against each other. A sweetness lingered as Ben backed into the jailhouse. With Miss Sutton's sharp eyes on Ben as he disappeared inside, Chris made his move. A matter of a few long, silent strides brought him to the front of the jailhouse. She turned as he reached the bottom step. Her eyes widened to see Chris. She opened her mouth ready to scream a warning. Chris raised one finger to his lips. This close to the jail with its open door, he could hear sonorous snoring coming from inside. The jailer must be sleeping.
"Sssh…," he cautioned. "We don't want to wake anybody."
Chris might have said more, but Ben came out of the jailer's office then. Chris almost sagged in relief. Ben hadn't gone after Ella. The young man's head was down. It looked like Ben clutched an assortment of papers in his hands
"What kind of man leaves his office unlocked, and doesn't even bother to lock up the evidence…," complained Ben in a low exasperated tone.
The youth looked up as he joined Miss Sutton. The features on his face froze, resembling Ezra's poker face now more than ever. To his credit Ben didn't try to run or hide. He stepped out of the jailhouse calmly and pulled the door quietly shut behind him. His graceful hand gestured towards the street.
"Perhaps we could discuss this on the way back to our hotel," suggested Ben.
Miss Sutton stepped away from the door, closer to the street, but she didn't leave Ben's side.
"Might oughta talk about it here," countered Chris. "Can't imagine why you would break into the jail, into the jailer's office…"
"This is not what it looks like," protested Ben. "I didn't steal anything!"
Chris glared. His eyes travelled down to the documents Ben held. Closer now, he realized what he had originally thought to be documents was a mix of small flat things. There looked to be a couple of letters, a deed and at least one gray cardboard picture frame, the kind that usually held tintypes, in Ben's hand.
"You sure?" asked Chris. "Because I think it looks like…"
"These are Grandmother's papers," interrupted Ben. "Father asked me to retrieve…"
"Ezra knew about this?"
Chris didn't mean to raise his voice, really.
"Sssh!" sounded from both Ben and Miss Sutton.
The two hurriedly moved from the porch stairs into the street. Ben stopped toe to toe with Chris.
"Father only told me about the false bottom in Grandmother's handbag," answered Ben. He gestured towards the jailhouse behind him. "He knows nothing of this, and I'd rather keep it that way."
Chris believed Ben. He couldn't think of Ezra asking Ben to do anything like this. Or… at least… Chris didn't want to think of Ezra entangling his son in something like this. Whatever this was!
"May we please leave now?" demanded Ben.
"Before someone sees us," urged Miss Sutton.
Chris spun on his heels and stepped away from the jailhouse. They followed him away from the jail. As they caught up to his long strides, Chris placed an arm over Ben's shoulder.
"Talk," ordered Chris.
He felt the youth's shoulders sag. He saw Miss Sutton squeeze Ben's arm before looping her own around his elbow. Chris heard a soft sigh before Ben began to speak.
"As you saw earlier today, when I identified Grandmother's handbag there were things missing," reminded Ben.
"You said something about money," remembered Chris.
"It wasn't just money."
They walked in silence another couple of steps. Ben gestured to the telegraph office as they strode past it.
"When I went to send a telegram afterwards…"
Ben paused and then took a deep breath.
"I overheard a woman talking. Miss Millie Schneider works at one of the adjacent telephone desks," continued Ben. "I overheard her tell her friend that Deputy Sheriff Oglethorpe had given her a beautiful fan. One that came all the way from Sattler's Fine Jewelry and Notions in New Orleans."
They walked on in silence a few steps more, Chris patient, intent on waiting Ben out.
"Miss Millie waved the fan around, she boasted that her gentleman…"
Here Ben gave a short snort of disgust.
"…friend had even had the silver handle engraved with her initials."
They stopped at the corner. Ben swallowed before he spoke again.
"Father bought that fan for Grandmother in New Orleans last year," he stated. "I know, I was with him when he bought it. Watched the jeweler engrave the handle."
"I imagine that store sells a lot of fans and such…," began Chris.
"With an ace of spades on the reverse side of the handle?"
"Not likely," agreed Chris.
Ben sighed and held up his hand that still clutched Maude's secrets.
"I don't know what Grandmother kept in the bottom of her bag," explained Ben. "I only know father thinks whatever it is was important. And I know if Oglethorpe found these, they would be gone too."
Chris felt a shudder run through Ben's slim frame.
"Like grandmother."
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