Don’t Believe His Lies
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The next day was Sunday, and as soon as the sun rose, Edna walked out of her room. The first thing she saw in front of her was a large group gathered around the church door. She knew that meant they were going to have services inside since it would be too hot for them outside.
That gave her an idea. If she could get a message to John before anyone else did, maybe he wouldn’t tell everyone about their encounter last night. But how? It had been so dark. How would she even know where he was if she couldn’t see him?
She took the long way around the church to avoid any suspicion, then went into town. As she made her way through the streets, she noticed a man following behind her. At first, she thought nothing of it until he began walking faster than usual.
When he stopped suddenly in the middle of the street, she turned to see what he wanted. “Excuse me,” he said. “Do you happen to know the whereabouts of a certain young man?”
“John?” Her heart raced when she realized who the stranger must be. He looked more like John now than he ever had. Did he really think he’d fool her with his disguise? “Yes… I mean no.” Why wasn’t he wearing his cowboy hat? She glanced at the brim to see if there was anything unusual on it but found nothing. “What are you talking about?”
He smiled, making her nervous. “I’m here looking for John. You don’t mind telling me where he is, do you? We’ve got business we need to settle.”
“You’re mistaken,” she told him. “There’s no such person named John in this town. Perhaps someone has confused our names.”
“Well, he’ll turn up sooner or later. And when he does, you better tell him he needs to pay up.”
“Pay up for what?”
His smile widened. “For breaking my nose.”
Edna gasped and reached for something to hit him with. She didn’t care what it was; just anything she could reach fast enough. Unfortunately, by the time she found a rock, he was gone. She ran back to the church, but he hadn’t returned yet.
There was no sign of him anywhere. Where could he have disappeared to? Had he followed her home? Or was he still waiting for her somewhere nearby? Either way, she needed to find someplace safe to hide away from him. Maybe the saloon would work. Surely he wouldn’t go inside.
When she arrived at the saloon, she stepped inside cautiously, hoping she wouldn’t run into the other men. She decided to ask one of the bartenders about John instead. After asking a few questions, she learned that none of the cowboys worked at the ranch. They all came in occasionally to drink.
As soon as she finished speaking with the bartender, two rough-looking men entered the bar. One sat down beside her and ordered a beer. She pretended not to notice his presence while glancing over to make sure the bartender kept busy serving others.
A minute passed by without incident, which was good news because she couldn’t afford another confrontation with these two. What were they doing here anyway? Couldn’t they find a real woman to fight?
Then a third man appeared. This one was dressed differently than either of the other two. Instead of a black shirt, he wore a white one. He also had a different type of mustache, though both were trimmed close to the mouth.
It seemed strange that three strangers would come to town together unless they were working together. Then again, they might have been friends visiting each other. Whatever the case, she intended to stay clear of them.
They all ordered drinks. When the bartender brought the beers to their table, Edna felt a little relieved. Now she could leave. As soon as the bartender left, one of the men stood. “Hey, where you going?” he asked.
“Going nowhere,” Edna answered.
“Why don’t you sit down and join us?”
She hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to refuse. Then she remembered what Tom had done to her and the bruises she had received. No doubt he was trying to scare her off so he wouldn’t lose another hand.
It was possible she might end up paying for the damage he’d caused, but she’d rather die than let him hurt her again. So she sat. “Are you here on account of your brother?” she asked.
“No.” The man sitting next to her laughed. “We’re here because of you. We’re after you, lady.”
***
“After me?” She shook her head in disbelief. “How can you possibly want to kill me?”
“You’ve got money, that’s why.”
“That’s impossible. I only have what I’ve earned myself.”
The man laughed again. “Who do you think bought those horses? Who paid for the food and supplies? You’ve got plenty of cash hidden away in your room upstairs. Don’t try to deny it.”
Her anger flared. How dare he accuse her of being dishonest! But how did he know she owned a room upstairs? That was private information. If he knew, then someone else must have known too. Was it Tom? Somehow, she doubted it. Whoever it was probably shared his suspicions with the other two. She wished she knew who they were and what their intentions were.
“Maybe you don’t realize it, but you’ve made an enemy out of us.”
“Me? I never meant to do any harm.”
“Sure, you said that before. You should know by now that we won’t forget.” He lifted his glass in a toast. “Here’s to you, lady.”
Before she could react, one of the men punched her hard across the face.
***
A terrible pain exploded behind Edna’s right eye. Instantly, she saw stars. Her vision blurred. Everything turned dark. She tried to speak, but her tongue was thick and stuck to the roof of her mouth. Something hot ran down her cheek and onto the floor.
Was this the same man who’d attacked her earlier? Did he intend to murder her like he threatened? She struggled to stand up, but her legs refused to support her weight. She wanted to scream, but no sound emerged. All she could do was stare helplessly at the man as he took another swing at her. He hit her again, and suddenly everything went black.
When she woke, she found herself lying on the bed. Still disoriented from the blow to her head, she reached for her hair, expecting to feel blood. But there wasn’t a single drop on her fingers or anywhere else.
Her scalp didn’t even sting. At first, she thought the injury hadn’t happened, that she was imagining things. Then she realized she must be mistaken. There was nothing wrong with her body; she was just feeling dizzy.
Carefully pulling back the covers, she looked around the room. No one was there, which was unusual because Tom usually came into her bedroom when she slept. But the door to her room was open, and she noticed a light shining through the window. Why was she sleeping during daylight hours? She glanced at the clock: 8:30 p.m. Had something happened to Tom? Where was he?
As she moved about the room, her mind began to clear. She couldn’t see very well, so she picked up the lamp. A small amount of liquid trickled from the bottom of the bulb. What kind of light did that make? She touched the bulb gently.
Nothing happened. The flame remained steady. Puzzled, she switched off the lamp, waited a few minutes, then turned it on again. Nothing changed. She tried several more times without success. Finally, she set the lamp aside, grabbed her purse from under the bed, and searched inside.
Yes, she definitely had enough cash to pay for the damages to the hotel and her horse. In fact, she had almost $700 saved up. With that much money, she would be able to buy whatever she needed.
With a sigh, she closed her eyes and sank deeper into the pillow. Perhaps she should give the money to Tom. Maybe he deserved some reward for saving her life. Of course, if he knew she possessed such funds, he’d probably assume that she was cheating him.
She wondered how long he suspected her of being unfaithful. Probably since the day she married him. He might not trust her anymore. After all, she had lied to him over and over again. She certainly owed him an explanation, but how did she begin? How did she explain what really happened to her?
She considered telling him that she worked for a detective agency in Chicago and that she traveled frequently to different states doing investigations. Would he believe her? Could he accept the idea of a woman working alone? Or maybe she should say that she worked for an insurance company investigating fraud against its clients. Surely, he wouldn’t doubt that.
But what about the incident involving her brother-in-law? And where did Tom fit into all of it? He was innocent in all of this, but surely he knew what happened to her father. When she told him about her family, she feared he would become angry and leave her. She didn’t want him to go—she loved him. But what choice did she have? If he left, she would lose everything.
No matter how she explained herself, Tom still wouldn’t understand why she deceived him. Sooner or later he’d find out the truth, and he’d hate her for it. That would destroy their relationship. He’d never forgive her. Worse yet, he might try to kill her himself.
After a moment’s thought, she decided that she would tell him the truth eventually, but only after she got away from there. Only after she returned to Chicago and bought a ticket for herself and her horse to wherever they were going next.
It would take time to gather evidence to prove that Tom wasn’t involved. Once she convinced him, she could start making plans. But first, she had to get rid of these two thugs before any more harm could come to them.
Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to her: If Tom ever found out the real reason she had to leave town, he might suspect her of trying to hide something. Was that possible? Would he think she was guilty of killing someone?
If she gave him proof, perhaps he would help her escape. Even though he would undoubtedly be furious at first, he might change his mind once he learned that no one else was hurt. But first, she had to get rid of the gunmen.
A loud thud sounded outside, followed by the sound of horses galloping past the hotel. For a brief instant, she felt relieved that the men weren’t coming back. But then another noise intruded on her thoughts: gunshots.
Were the gunmen shooting at each other? As soon as she heard the shots, she jumped to her feet. What good was it hiding in bed when she might die while sitting right there? There was nothing more dangerous than bullets flying around like crazy.
She ran down the hall toward the stairs. At the top of the steps, she stopped and listened intently. Gunshots! They must have been fighting with each other now. That meant that Tom had done exactly as she hoped. She had to hurry; otherwise, she would miss her chance.
Outside, she could hear the sounds of a struggle. Then a gunshot rang out. Did that mean that the gunman who killed her father had also shot Tom? She shuddered. No, it couldn’t be. He hadn’t killed anyone. Hadn’t he promised to stay away from guns?
Her heart raced as she hurried downstairs. Now that she knew Tom was safe, she could focus on getting away. But where to go? Back to Chicago? No, she wanted to return home to Kansas. She had always dreamed of visiting her mother’s grave. But even though Tom was gone, the gunmen were still searching for her. She had to do something quickly. Otherwise, she’d end up dead.
When she reached the lobby, she looked through the front door window and saw two men riding off on horseback. One rode ahead of the other, waving his arms to signal the rider behind. The man behind tried to pass the lead rider, but he kept stopping every few seconds. Finally, the rider yelled, “Go on without me.” The second rider turned back toward town.
She leaned closer to the glass and peered through the curtains. Just beyond the street stood two riders, both pointing guns toward the hotel. How many gunmen were there? Where was Tom?
“What are you doing?” a voice called from above.
Startled, she jumped to her feet and darted across the room to the staircase. A large man with gray hair and a bushy white mustache stood near the foot of the stairs. He wore a dark blue shirt tucked into black pants, and he held a revolver in one hand.
“Who are you?” she asked nervously. “Are those your men outside?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. His gaze traveled over her clothes. “You’re certainly dressed for an outlaw.”
“And so are you.”
He laughed. “That may be true, but I’m not an outlaw. We’ll talk later. You shouldn’t be out of bed. Don’t move until we’ve dealt with the men outside. Go upstairs and lie down.”
For a moment she hesitated, wondering if he intended to shoot her. When he didn’t fire, she started climbing the stairs again. As she went up, she wondered what kind of man this stranger really was. Why would he want to protect her?
At the top of the stairs, she paused again. Could it be Tom? Had he finally come to see her? But why did he need protection? And why would he be wearing a gun? Maybe she should ask him about all this later. Right now she had to get rid of these men before they discovered that she was still alive.
As soon as she stepped inside the bedroom, she noticed that it was larger than any room she had seen since leaving Chicago. It reminded her of her mother’s house: richly furnished with expensive furniture. A long oak dresser lined the wall opposite the bed.
A red-and-white quilt covered the mattress, and a vase filled with yellow roses sat on a small table beside the bed. In fact, everything in the room seemed familiar. Suddenly, she realized that Tom had probably taken pictures of this place during his investigation. If so, that explained how he knew where to find her.
The man opened the closet door and pointed his pistol at the floor. “Get down here.”
She lowered herself onto the carpeted floor and waited. After a short pause, he took the pistol from his belt and handed it to her. With trembling hands, she placed the weapon under the bed and climbed up. The man closed the door and locked it. Then he came to stand next to the bed. “Now tell me your name.”
“My name is Abigail Stokes.”
“Where are you staying?”
“In the hotel.”
His eyebrows rose. “A woman traveling alone? That’s unusual. Usually, women travel with their husbands or families.”
“No, I don’t have a husband or family.”
“So, then, who is your companion?”
“Tom Quinn.”
“Is he a friend of yours?”
“Yes.”
“Did he kill anyone today?”
“No.”
“Then maybe you can answer some questions for us. Who hired you to investigate this hotel?”
“Why would someone hire me?”
“We’ll talk about that later. For now, just answer our questions. Do you know anything about the people who own this hotel?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t.”
“Don’t lie to me! We’ll catch you sooner or later. Now, who is your employer?”
“It’s none of your business.”
He scowled. “Do you mind telling me who sent you?”
“If you think I killed the man in charge of the bank, then I guess you must think I work for my employer.” She glanced around the room. “But you’re wrong. My employer doesn’t even know I’m here. He never wanted me to come. I made this trip on my own.”
“How do you plan to escape?” he asked.
“There isn’t much time left before you bring Tom back. All I have to do is wait till you leave, then run downstairs and take the money from the cashier.”
“You’d better hurry!” he said, moving toward the door. “They might return.”
Abby jumped off the bed. “Wait! What happened to Tom?”
“Just stay put, and you’ll see.” He unlocked the door, swung it open, and rushed out.
Moments later, Abby heard a loud bang, followed by another, and then a third. From the sound of things, she could assume that Tom was dead. At least that meant she wouldn’t be arrested. She was relieved; otherwise, she’d be facing charges of murder.
After a few minutes, she heard a man talking loudly outside. They were speaking French. Her heart began pounding faster. Would they speak English after a while? How many men did Tom have working for him? Five? Six? No matter how many there were, she couldn’t let them suspect that she was still alive.
When the voices stopped, she pulled the pistol from under the bed and stood up. As soon as the door opened, she aimed the gun at the intruder and fired. His body crashed into the wall.
Before she could move away from the bed, two more men rushed in. One grabbed her by the arm and shoved her against the wall. “That’s far enough,” he snapped. “Stay right there.”
The other one pushed past them and went straight to Tom. The bullet hole in his chest looked like a gaping wound. Blood pooled on the white shirt beneath his jacket. His eyes fluttered. “Oh, God…”
“What did you say?” demanded the man who held Abby.
“He says his name is Thomas Quinn,” she told the stranger.
The man glared at her. “Tell him we caught the murderer and he’s free to go.”
With great difficulty, Tom managed to sit up. “Who shot me?”
“Answer my question first,” said the man holding her. “Were you planning on killing the banker?”
“Yes… but not yet. You can ask Abigail what happened.”
Her captor shook his head. “Not until I get answers from you.” He turned to Abby. “Now, why did you shoot Mr. Quinn?”
“Because he tried to shoot me!”
“And where’s your partner?”
“Over there,” she replied, pointing. “By the window.”
One of the gunmen moved to look through the blinds. A second later, he returned and nodded. “Let’s go.”
Two of them escorted Abby to the door, where she gave each of them the keyring containing the hotel keys. Then they walked down the stairs to the front desk, leaving the other man behind with Tom.
As they approached the counter, Abby realized the clerk was a young man in his teens. She smiled when she saw him. “Hello, Kevin.”
Kevin didn’t smile back. “Are you all right?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Fine, thanks.”
“Can I help you find something?”
“No. But you can tell Mr. Quinn that Abby Stokes will send him a letter in a day or so.”
“Will he ever forgive you for shooting him?”
“Probably not,” she muttered, trying to hide the grim expression on her face. “But I’m glad I had the chance to kill him once.”
The End