HELL HATH NO FURY (A Jess Williams western novel)

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or publisher. They are solely the imagination of the author and the imagination of events that may or may not possibly happen.

Copyright© 2012 by Robert J. Thomas

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded. Decompiled, or stored in or introduced into an electronic or mechanical method without the express written permission of the author and/or publisher. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the author and/or publisher is illegal and punishable by law.

              A Jess Williams Novel. Westerns. Revenge. Violence. Action. Adventure.

              ISBN#13 – 978-0-9838056-0-1 – Paperback

              LCCN# 2012907322

              Amazon AISN# / Amazon assigned e-book number –B008D6HXK8

HELL HATH NO FURY

The Sixth Novel in the Series of Jess Williams Westerns

By Robert J. Thomas

CHAPTER ONE

(Continued from book five, “The Dodge City Massacre”)

             
Jess took his pistol and gently placed it onto Henry Stidham’s forehead and the snoring stopped. Then, Henry slowly opened his eyes as he heard the sound of Jess cocking back the hammer of his pistol. Henry looked up at Jess’ face and he had his left index finger on his lips letting Henry know not to yell. Jess lowered his face a little closer to Henry’s face as he said—
“Hey, ain’t you that Henry Stidham fellow?”

             
Henry’s eyes said it all. He realized who it was that had a gun directly on his forehead with the hammer cocked back and he knew who was holding it. It was Jess Williams, the man that Henry had placed a ten thousand dollar blood bounty on. Stidham’s eyes went wide as Jess’ left hand reached over and grabbed a very nice pillow off the bed and placed it over Henry’s face. Stidham struggled and his legs and feet were shaking on the bed. He tried to scream, but no one would hear him anyway. Henry always enjoyed his privacy, but now he wished he let his service people stay in the house. Stidham’s body slowly stopped moving around and his hands, which were on the pillow, began to go limp as he finally passed on to the hereafter. Even though Stidham had stopped struggling, Jess kept the pillow firmly over his face for another extra minute. He was not taking any chances.

             
After the deed was finished, Jess placed the pillow back on the bed and he straightened up the bedding to make it look like Henry simply passed in his sleep. They would find Stidham’s body in the morning looking peacefully at rest in his bed and no one would know for sure what happened. Jess kept his pistol in his hand as he made his way out of the mansion and out to the tree line where he left his two horses, Gray and Sharps. He climbed up in the saddle and nudged Gray, heading due west and back to familiar surroundings. It would be a long journey back, but Jess always liked being on the trail, especially if he was hunting someone—and he already was.

             
Darin Lovett was wanted dead or alive for his many offenses, including the murder of a town sheriff and the rape of several women.

             
Jess kept in touch with Mayor Smythe in Black Creek, Kansas, while he was on his long journey to New York City and Henry Stidham. Jess felt somewhat bad about smothering Stidham to death with a pillow, but he warned him to cancel the blood bounty on his head so it was something that had to be done. Jess found out that there was a bounty on the head of Darin Lovett in the amount of three hundred dollars. Lovett had been spotted in the Wichita, Kansas, area and that was where Jess was headed. Jess was still about a three-day’s ride from Wichita and he finally rode into a small town called Franklin, Missouri. He found the only hotel in town and got himself a room for one night, just long enough to supply up, get a good meal and a good night’s rest. He found the only saloon in Franklin, which was named Shipley’s Saloon. Hank Shipley, the barkeep and owner of the saloon, walked over to Jess after he walked in, scanned the room, and took his usual position at the bar. He always stood at the far end of the bar with a wall to his back and a good view of the room.

             
“What can I get ya’ Mister?” asked Hank.

             
“Do you keep any good whiskey back there?”

             
“I’ve got one bottle left, but it’s four times the cost of the cheap stuff, just so ya’ know.”

             
Jess threw ten dollars on the bar. “That should cover it.”

             
“Mister, that’ll buy you the whole bottle and then some.”

             
“Barkeep, what do you have cooking back there? It smells pretty good.”

             
“Call me Hank. I’ve got a woman in back cooking up steaks and taters and she knows how to cook ‘em right. She doesn’t cook ‘em to death like most people. I like mine with the blood runnin’ out of it.”

             
“Well Hank, that’s how I like mine too. Have her cook me one of the biggest steaks you have back there along with some fried potatoes,” replied Jess.

             
“Coming right up,” replied Hank as he walked into the back to give the cook the order.

             
It was quiet in the saloon with only several of the locals eating steaks and a few men playing cards over at a corner table. Hank brought out Jess’ steak and it was indeed still bleeding and it was seared on the outside just like he liked it. Jess didn’t take a seat at a table, he stayed right there at the bar and as soon as he cut into the steak for his first bite, he saw a man coming through the swinging doors of the saloon. The hairs on the back of his neck started to tingle and he could smell trouble. Jess had cut a large bite off the steak and was still holding the fork in his left hand, his right hand already taking up the task of removing his hammer strap.

             
Jess watched the man as he sauntered up to the bar and ordered a whiskey. Dan Quinn had been looking for Jess for months now to collect the ten thousand dollars in blood bounty on Jess’ head. Quinn threw back his second shot and turned to face Jess, who was still holding his fork in his left hand, blood dripping onto the floor. “You that Jess Williams fellow?” asked Quinn.

             
“That’s correct,” replied Jess. “I don’t believe we’ve met before since I never forget a face.”

             
“Naw, we ain’t met before, but I’ve been looking for you for quite a while,” replied Quinn.

             
“Well, as you can see, I’m trying to eat this steak here and it’s getting cold fast so state your business with me and let’s get on with it,” replied Jess, his stomach growling now.

             
“You’ve got a ten thousand dollar blood bounty on your head and I’m here to collect it,” replied Quinn.

             
“That bounty has been cancelled due to the untimely death of Henry Stidham recently, so there ain’t any money to collect.”

             
“I haven’t heard anything about that.”

             
“That’s kind of your problem, don’t you think?” asked Jess, now getting a little agitated due to his steak getting cold.

             
“Don’t get smart with me, Mister,” exclaimed Quinn.

             
“I don’t think I could get
smart
with you,” smiled Jess, a knowingly smile on his face.

             
“What do you mean by that?”

             
“Never mind, you probably wouldn’t get it anyway, which is kind of what I meant.”

             
“Damn it Mister, explain what you mean by that?” insisted Quinn.

             
“Mister, I’m going to eat this steak before it gets too cold to eat, so if you plan on still trying to collect money that doesn’t exist, then get on with it and pull that pistol of yours,” replied Jess.

             
Jess saw it in Quinn’s eyes as he went for his gun. The next place he went was straight back onto the saloon floor from the force of the two slugs from Jess’ pistol. Jess, still holding his gun in his right hand, finally put the bite of steak into his mouth and began chewing it as he walked over to Quinn’s body to make sure he was dead. Jess replaced the two spent cartridges in his pistol and walked back over to his steak and started eating as if nothing unusual just happened.

             
Hank came out from behind the bar and got a few of the men to drag Quinn’s body out. Jess started cutting into the steak for his second bite when the cook came out from the kitchen and walked up to Jess.

             
“I can put that steak back on the stove just long enough to warm it up and it will still be pretty rare if you would like,” she said.

             
“That would be mighty nice of you ma’am. Please make sure that it’s still rare,” replied Jess. She ran the steak back and threw it onto the stove which was sizzling hot. Hank walked back over to Jess.

             
“So you really are Jess Williams?” asked Hank.

             
“Yes. Do you happen to know who that man was that they carried out?”

             
“Yeah, that was Dan Quinn and he’s been here twice before looking for you. Too bad he didn’t get the news about what you tried to tell him about the blood bounty.”

             
“It was surely bad news for him. I guess it’ll take a while before the word gets around about it. Men like Quinn will keep trying to collect it until then.” The cook ran back out and gave Jess his steak back. Jess cut into it and it was still rare, but warm. He enjoyed the rest of his meal and gave the cook a five dollar tip, thanked her and retired to his room for the night.

CHAPTER TWO

              Jess finally reached Wichita, Kansas, and got a room in one of the better hotels in town. It was a very nice room with a huge bed. He took a hot bath and sent his clothes out to be cleaned then headed for the sheriff’s office in town. Sheriff Sam Davies was sitting behind his desk when Jess walked in and he recognized him right away.

             
“Damn it, just when things started to calm down around here, you have to show up,” exclaimed Sheriff Davies.

             
“Well, nice to meet you too, Sheriff,” replied Jess, as he stuck his hand out to shake hands with the sheriff. The sheriff sat back down.

             
“Alright, who are you hunting down now, Mr. Williams?”

             
“I’m looking for a man by the name of Darin Lovett. He killed a lawman and he raped several women, mostly in small towns scattered around the Kansas area. I heard he was here recently,” replied Jess.

             
“He was here for two weeks, but he left two days ago. I heard he was headed for Buckley, which is about two-day’s ride straight north of here. I didn’t know about his offenses yet, otherwise I would have arrested him while he was here. I’ll probably be getting a wanted poster any day on him,” replied Sheriff Davies.

             
“Thanks Sheriff, I’ll head that way tomorrow morning. I need a good night’s rest since I’ve been on the trail for some time now.”

             
“Do me a favor, Mr. Williams.”

             
“Sure, Sheriff, whatever you need.”

             
“Try not killing anyone before you leave town.”

             
“I’ll try, Sheriff, but I can’t promise since most of the time I don’t start any trouble, it just seems to find me wherever I’m at,” replied Jess, as he walked over to a saloon he spotted.

             
He walked in and didn’t see any threats so he took his usual spot at the end of the bar. He ordered some whiskey and watched the locals come in and out of the saloon, some drinking rotgut whiskey and some playing cards. What got his attention, though, was the yelling he heard across the street at the sheriff’s office. Jess paid for the whiskey and walked out onto the boardwalk to see what was going on. There were three men still sitting in the saddle of their horses in front of the sheriff’s office and the man in the middle was the one doing all the yelling.