Of Grave Concern (Ophelia Wylde Paranormal Mysteries) by Max McCoy

Author:Max McCoy
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2013-05-14T21:00:00+00:00

18

As I watched Calder walk through the shadow and smoke-filled confines of the Saratoga and out the open door into the sunshine of Front Street, I felt as if a scorpion had crawled up inside my belly.

I blamed it on the mezcal.

“What’s the trouble?” Bartholomew Potete asked, pulling a chair far enough out from the table to allow him to rest his bulk. “You look like you’ve lost your best friend.”

“I have no friends.”

“But you have many admirers,” Potete said, pulling a stack of notes from his vest pocket. “I have a dozen invitations here for picnic lunches or carriage rides during the afternoon, a half-dozen requests for dinner, and three marriage proposals.”

“Not very flattering, when you consider the men outnumber women here a hundred to one.”

“It is a seller’s market,” Potete said. He took a deck of playing cards from his pocket and fanned them out in front of him, then expertly tipped them back the other way. “But there is more. Because of popular demand, the opera house would like to book a return engagement of The Reverend Professor Wylde.”

“When?”

Potete riffled the cards. “Tonight.”

“I’m busy.”

“With what?” A strip shuffle.

“A personal obligation.”

“Next Monday, then? After the hearing.”

“I hope to be on the train to Denver.”

“Saturday,” Potete suggested. “There will be a new batch of cowpunchers to charm. The Times reports three large herds have crossed the quarantine line in Comanche County, faced down the grangers, and are expected here tomorrow.”

I shrugged.

“Wonderful,” Potete growled. “I’ll make all the arrangements. And I have to say, your demonstration was impressive in every regard. And playing Judge Grout that way—brilliant!”

“I am going straight to hell.”

“As your lawyer, I advise you that we can beat the charge.”

“You’ll have to find a new shill for the billet reading,” I said. “We can’t use Timothy again, but I have other work for him. I’ll need him tomorrow night.”

“No problem,” Potete said. “Any special instructions?”

“Tell him that I am depending upon him for my safety, so he needs to stick close by. But no guns. I don’t like guns and can’t stand to have them around me.”

“Understood.”

“Any news from Counselor Sutton?” I asked.

“He has been unusually quiet,” Potete said. “If he has a strategy for Monday’s hearing, I can’t imagine what it might be. Are you still sure we can’t contact anybody from Chicago to—”

“I’m sure.”

“What about that Sylvestre fellow?”

“I said I was sure.”

“All right, Professor, don’t bite my head off.” Sulking, Potete did an overhand shuffle.

“What can you tell me about Jack Calder?”

“Nothing that will surprise you,” Potete said. “With Jack, what you see is what you get. Sure, he’s brighter than your average Texan, and good with that Russian on his hip. He’s reading the law with Hunnicutt, hoping to go from bounty hunter to barrister. But the law would be a poor choice for Calder, because he may be the only honest man in Dodge City.”

“Then what’s he doing here?”

“Unlike the rest of us—who came because we were bored, or we didn’t fit in

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