A Dangerous Love by Michael Phillips

Author:Michael Phillips [Phillips, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-09-15T07:00:00+00:00

35

QUESTIONS

As soon as Mercy had put the one bag she had brought with her in her room, she went back downstairs, asked directions at the desk, and walked straight down the street to the sheriff's office.

She introduced herself to the sheriff, then asked, "Do you know Brad Nichols?"

The sheriff glanced her over with the sort of interrogative look that accompanied his job. He was used to seeing just about anything in Denver. But this pretty young lady in her dusty traveling suit nevertheless struck him as just a mite out of the ordinary. She seemed to be a nice city girl and a frontier woman all in one pretty package.

"Yes, ma'am," the man replied. "He's U.S. Marshal for this region."

"Have you seen him recently? Is he in Denver?"

"No, ma'am, on both counts. Nobody's seen hide nor hair o' him for a while. He rounded up several of the Medicine Bow Gang in the East—don't reckon you've heard of 'em, ma'am," the man added, "but they been wanted in these parts for years. Nichols was bringing 'em in to stand trial. Ain't been no word from Nichols since. Why you asking, ma am?"

"Oh . . . oh, I've just got some unfinished business with Mr. Nichols, that's all."

"Don't know what to tell you, ma'am."

"Well, thank you very much, you've been most helpful," replied Mercy. "Would you happen to have a handbill on the gang you mentioned?"

"Sure do, ma'am," replied the sheriff, pulling out one of the drawers of his desk. "No pictures been taken of them, but here's descriptions of 'em all."

Mercy took the leaflet and folded it, thanked the man again, and left the office. She walked back to the Grey Falcon. Jess was just crossing the lobby toward the stairs. Thankfully, now he was alone. Mercy hurried to catch up with him.

"What's all this about, Mercy?" he said, a hint of irritation in his voice. "Having to talk to me alone, and saying it right in front of Doretta like that . . . "

Mercy said nothing, and they started up the stairs together.

"Where's your room?" she asked when they reached the landing.

"Right down there." Jess pointed.

Mercy followed him and walked in right behind him through the unlocked door. She closed it behind her.

"What's this all about, Mercy?" Jess repeated.

"How well do you know your new friend?" she asked.

"Doretta?"

She nodded.

"She's been about the only friend I've had these last few days. I tell you, Mercy, she's trying to help me."

"Help you what—find the sapphires?"

"Yeah, well . . . I reckon . . . that and help Jeremiah. Why—what do you have against her, Mercy? I can tell by that look in your eye that you don't take too kindly toward her."

"Her name's not Doretta, Jess," Mercy finally blurted out.

"What are you talking about? 'Course it is."

"Her name is Loretta, Jess . . . Loretta Monroe—ring any bells?"

"No . . .," said Jess, "and there ain't no reason it should. I tell you, Mercy, her name's—"

"Look at this, Jess," said Mercy, finally growing angry with Jess' thickheadedness.

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