The Double-A Western Detective Agency: A Holmes on the Range Mystery (Holmes on the Range Mysteries Book 6) by Hockensmith Steve

Author:Hockensmith, Steve
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rough Edges Press
Published: 2023-09-26T00:00:00+00:00

FIFTEEN

TEN-CENT WORDS AND ONE-CENT MANURE

OR, DIANA HAS TO EXPAND HER VOCABULARY TO EXPRESS HER DISGUST WITH US, AND OLD RED’S REACTION LEAVES ME MOMENTARILY SPEECHLESS

The dude went striding out of the alley and across the street, giving his cane a cheerful twirl before cutting right and disappearing from sight.

“I’d sure like to show him where he can stick that cane,” Old Red muttered, rubbing his jaw. The skin on his chin was mottled pink where he’d taken a blow, but it already looked like the mark would fade fast rather than darken into a bruise.

The frown on his face wasn’t going away, though. He swung it toward Diana as she turned our way again.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t pick up the fisticuffs where Mr. Burr left off,” she said, crossing her arms and glaring at us reproachfully.

“Uhh…cuz you know we ain’t ‘ruffians’?” I replied.

“Do I?” Diana said. “I told Burr we’re business associates, but I’m not really sure we are at this point. First you unilaterally decide to quit on our one and only paying client.”

“What-a-whatily decide?” my brother interrupted.

Diana didn’t stop to offer definitions.

“Then you disappear without a word only to reappear with the town marshal’s body? And before I can even ask for an explanation you begin brawling with a stranger?”

“Whoa, now!” Old Red protested. “We didn’t pick that fight!”

Again, Diana talked over him.

“Is this how ‘partners’ comport themselves where you come from? Because to me it seems more like the behavior of rivals or enemies or at the very least, people I wouldn’t choose to associate with if they were the last—”

“We have a new client,” I said softly.

“—men on…excuse me?”

“We have a new client,” I said again. “Pretty much the same terms as with Haney, only shootin’ for a different outcome. We were gonna head straight to the hotel to tell you—and offer our sincere apologies for yesterday—once we were done helpin’ Deputy Compton make his delivery. Which we were also going to tell you about. Only, as you saw, we got bushwhacked by your Mr. Burr first. Ain’t that the way of it, Brother?”

Old Red bent down to pick up his forty-five, still scowling.

“Yeah, well,” he said as he stood up and jammed the gun back in its holster. “The stuff about the new client and helpin’ Flip and gettin’ jumped by that dude, anyway.”

He’d cut the apology out of the herd.

If I’d had a walking stick of my own, I would’ve clubbed him with it.

Diana noted the omission with a cocked eyebrow but chose to let it pass for the moment.

“And who is this new client?” she asked me.

“The Sweeneys,” I said.

I braced myself for a cry of disbelief. A roar of rage. Another wallop upside the head.

Instead, I got a slow, thoughtful nod.

“Because of Marshal Hinkle,” Diana said. “Half the town’s already blaming them for his death.”

“That’s it precisely,” I said. “Clayton Haney himself was out on the Sweeney spread this mornin’ yellin’ for Eduardo’s hide. But Gustav took a look at where the marshal was killed, and he’s convinced Ed ain’t to blame.

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