Ace in the Hole (4 page)

Clint was having a second beer when the sheriff walked in. They had met on Clint's first day when he'd gone and introduced himself to the local law. He wasn't impressed by the young man, and Kent had managed to stay away from him the whole time he was in town. He watched as the young sheriff's eyes swept the room, and when they fell on him the man visibly reacted. He stiffened a bit, took a stutter step forward, then turned and left the saloon. Clint shook his head, turned his back to the door and returned to his beer. Kent wasn't going to get very far as a lawman being afraid of men with reputations.

Tom Kent cursed himself. He'd been staying away from Clint Adams ever since the man arrived in town. He knew the Gunsmith's reputation, and he felt uncomfortable around the man, but that didn't mean he had to run every time he saw him.

That was it, he thought. That was the deciding factor in whether or not he was going to take Diane's offer: the chance to give up wearing a badge, and stop having to deal with men like Clint Adams. He checked his watch. He still had half an hour to make the telegraph office.

“I'll be at the saloon,” Arliss Morgan told his wife.

“Arliss,” she said, “have you made up your mind yet?”

“About what?”

“You know what,” she said. “Are you going to ask Clint Adams to go to your big game with you?”

“I've already asked him,” he replied.

“That's wonderful.” She clapped her hands together as if she was delighted for him. “And what did he say?”

“He's thinking about it.”

She came up close to him, so that her perfume filled his nostrils, and she pressed against him so he could feel the heat of her body.

“I'm sure you'll get him to accept,” she said. “You're so clever that way.”

“Oh, uh, yes, I'm sure he will,” Morgan said. “I've offered him quite a lot of money.”

“Which is okay,” she said, “because you're going to win a lot of money, aren't you?”

“I certainly hope so.” He cursed his body for not responding to her. In his head he wanted her, but his body…At his age it took some doing to get him aroused, and he knew that Diane was getting tired of expending the effort for not much in return. He put his arm around her and said, “We are going to get a lot of money.”

“Yes,” she said, kissing his cheek and sliding her hand down his pants to give him a little squeeze, “we are.”

Arliss Morgan was delighted that, as he left the house, he had the beginnings of an erection. Perhaps tonight, when he returned…

Diane Morgan watched her husband from the front window until he was out of sight. All she needed from him was the time and the location of the game. She'd asked him several times. But the last time he had become very agitated. She decided to bide her time and wait for just the right moment before asking again. She figured tonight would be the night. Get him hard, get on her knees in front of him, control him. Just as she'd made Tom Kent beg, she would make Arliss Morgan come across with the information she needed.

Then all she'd need was for Kent to agree, and the arrangements could be made.

Six hundred thousand dollars, there for the taking…

Kent watched as Arliss Morgan left his house. He had sent off his telegram and hoped that a reply would be waiting in the morning. He had a good idea where Tito Calhoun would go when he got out of jail. He just hoped that his old friend was still there. He also hoped that prison time had not taken the edge off him. In fact, maybe being in jail would make that edge even sharper. If he knew his friend—and he thought he did—he'd be angry and anxious to get back at the world for putting him in a box.

Kent made sure the coast was clear before crossing the street and moving around to the back of the Morgan house. During the day, Diane made sure the kitchen door was always unlocked. And she made sure her husband did not hire any servants for her, so she could do what she wanted in her own house when her husband was in town.

Kent opened the door and entered, closing it behind him. He had started toward the doorway that led from the kitchen to the dining room when suddenly Diane appeared there…naked.

“How did you know?”

“Sweetie,” she said, “I can always smell you when you want me.”

Clint was still on that second beer, contemplating either a third or a move to one of the poker tables, when Arliss Morgan came through the batwings. He spotted Clint immediately and came over to the bar.

“You're not playing?” Morgan asked.

“After our conversation, these games just didn't seem to attract my interest.”

The banker looked over at the tables, and the people playing at them, and said, “I don't blame you.”

“What'll ya have, Mr. Morgan?” the bartender asked.

“A beer, Travis,” Morgan said.

“Comin' up.”

“We could get up a game upstairs,” Morgan said. “There's a small room and—”

“I'd rather talk about your game, Mr. Morgan.”

“Arliss, please,” the banker said, accepting his beer from the bartender, “call me Arliss. I have the feeling we're going to be in business together.”

“Only if you can answer a question for me,” Clint said. “And convince me that you're telling the truth.”

“This sounds ominous,” Morgan said. “What do you say we finish these beers and then I'll take you over to my club. We can talk where it's quiet.”

“Suits me,” Clint said.

When they entered the Stockman Hotel, Morgan led Clint down a hall and through a doorway. Inside, a man stood and nodded to him as they went by.

“If you were here alone,” Morgan told Clint, “you would not have gotten in.”

Clint didn't bother telling Morgan that he didn't like private clubs and would never try to get into one.

They were in a large, high-ceilinged sitting room filled with overstuffed chairs of emerald green and maroon, crystal light fixtures and tuxedoed waiters.

“Every member has his own chair,” he explained, “and a guest chair. Here we go.”

They sat down on two chairs, with a low table between them. A white-haired waiter immediately appeared, wearing not only a tuxedo but also white gloves.

“Brandy, Jackson.”

“Yes, sir. And for your guest?”

Clint thought a moment, then said, “The same.”

“As you wish.” The waiter executed a small bow and then withdrew.

Clint looked around the room. There were only a few men on the other chairs.

“It usually gets busier in the evenings,” Morgan explained. “That's when our members come here to get away from their wives.”

“Is that why you come here?”

“I have a beautiful wife, Mr. Adams,” Morgan said. “I have no reason to get away from her.”

“My apologies,” Clint said. “I meant no offense.”

“None taken.”

“And I mean no offense with my next question, either,” Clint went on. “It's just that I've heard things.”

“Oh, my,” Morgan said. “The rumors.”

“Yes, the rumors.”

“So you want to know if the money I'm using to stake you in this game is my money, or does it belong to the depositors? Do I have it right?”

“Yes, you do.”

“I assure you, Mr. Adams—Clint. The money you will be playing with in the game is mine and mine alone. I do not need to steal my depositors' money.”

Clint opened his mouth to ask another question, but Morgan raised his hand and stopped him.

“Your next question is: Why did the rumors start? It happened when I brought my wife back with me from San Francisco. She's quite a bit younger than I am, and the rumors started that I needed a lot of money in order to keep her. Well, I have a lot of money, Clint—quite enough to keep her happy for a long time. Does any of what I've said allay your fears? If not, then I'm afraid we must part company. I could show you my own personal bank account, but how can I prove none of that money came from other depositors?”

“I suppose you can't,” Clint said.

“So my word will have to be good enough.”

The waiter came with two brandy snifters on a silver tray. He held the tray right between them so they could both take their drinks, and then he withdrew again.

“What say you, Clint?”

Clint raised his glass and said, “I say we have a partnership—a ten percent partnership.”

“Excellent,” Morgan said, and they touched glasses.

“The game will take place at the home of a man named John Deal. He's a wealthy rancher who moved here from England several years ago. Oddly enough, he discovered poker when he moved here, likes the excitement of a high-stakes game, although he lacks the nerve to play.”

“I thought you said he was rich.”

“He is,” Morgan said. “It's got nothing to do with the risk of losing. He just can't stand up to the pressure of sitting at the table. He prefers to host big-money games and watch.”

“And where does this man live?”

“If you don't mind, I'll keep that to myself for now,” Morgan said, “but it's only a day's ride from here.”

“Are you up to a day's ride?”

“I haven't been on a horse in some time, but I think I can handle it.”

“Do you have a horse?”

“I'll get one from the livery.”

“To buy or rent?”

“Rent, I think.”

“How about letting me pick it out for you?”

“That suits me fine,” Morgan said. “Just tell them that you're renting for me. In fact, I'll give you some money and you can make the transaction outright.”

“That's fine.”

“Will you need some money up front?” Morgan asked.

“Just a couple of hundred,” Clint said. “If it's a full day's ride, we'll need to camp overnight…both ways. We'll just need a few things.”

“All right.”

Clint was surprised when Morgan went right into his wallet and handed him two hundred dollars.

“How about filling me in on who the other parties are?” Clint asked.

Morgan hesitated, and Clint said, “Okay, fine, I'll find out when get there.”

“There will be no one there who is wanted by the law,” Morgan said. “I can tell you that.”

“That wouldn't have an effect on my decision,” Clint said. “As long as he can play cards.”

“Good. This is excellent. How about another brandy to cement the deal?”

“Don't mind if I do.” Clint didn't usually like brandy, but he had enjoyed the first glass.

Tom Kent was on his knees behind Diane Morgan, who was on all fours on the floor in her dining room. If Arliss Morgan had come home at that moment, Kent knew he'd have to kill the banker.

“Come in, come on,” Diane was saying, urging him on, “harder, damn it…”

He gripped both of her hips and pulled, so that every time he drove himself into her glorious pussy her marvelous ass slapped into him. Kent had never been so…obsessed with a woman before, and he'd had his share. Diane Morgan was unlike any other woman he'd ever known, and it didn't bother him at all that she was several years older than he was—and that was only if she was telling the truth about her age.

“Uhh, uhh,” she grunted, every time she slammed back into him with her butt.

He started to move faster and faster, his cock feeling as if it was about to burst. He'd do anything for this woman, anything at all, and that included killing her husband or anyone else who got in the way of their happiness.

Diane continued to implore Kent to fuck her, hoping that he'd finish soon. She knew she had him; he'd already told her that he was in, and that he had already contacted someone about helping. She didn't mind a romp in the afternoon with her young lover, but this one had not come at the most opportune time. If Arliss walked in on them, she knew that Kent would have to kill him, and that would pretty much ruin her own plan. What had started out as a lark had now become potentially dangerous, so she was trying her damndest to get Tom Kent to finish…

“Hurry,” she said moments later. “Get dressed.”

“Let me catch my breath.”

“Come on, Tom,” she said, throwing his clothes at him. “Catch your breath outside. Arliss could be home any minute.”

“That didn't seem to bother you when you greeted me in the kitchen, naked.”

“That was stupid,” she said. “It won't happen again. And don't come here again.”

“I had to tell you,” he said, pulling on his pants.

“Fine, you told me,” she said. “Now get your people together so that when I have the location and the time you can move.”

He got that look on his face men got when they thought they were being scolded, so she grabbed his shirtfront, pulled him to her and kissed him. She felt him growing hard in his pants, and as his hands reached for her she pushed him away.

“Get out already,” she said, “before we end up on the floor again. I have to get dressed.”

“I love you, Diane,” he said, strapping on his gun. “I would do anything for you.”

“I know, darling,” she said, “I know.”

She pushed him to the back door, opened it and gave him a shove outside. Then she threw him a kiss and closed it in his face. She needed a bath and a change of clothes.

Kent made his way around the house, made sure no one was there to see him, then crossed the street. Once there, he stopped to catch his breath and straighten his clothes, and then he started walking back to his office, remembering the first time he and Diane had had sex, in one of the cells.

All of a sudden he felt completely happy with his life, and where it was going.