DangerousPassion (22 page)

Sarah, sitting in a bentwood chair at the kitchen table, shrugged her shoulders. “Susan and Amanda are going to say they are the ones responsible for killing those three men. Derek says there’s no jury in the world that’ll convict them of anything. After all, they were only protecting themselves and their own property.”

“You mean Derek was protecting them and their property.”

Sarah nodded. “Without him, the Pattersons would have been able to run Deadwood like it was their own personal kingdom.” She smiled, enjoying it whenever her thoughts turned toward Derek. He was a topic she adored discussing. “He said the sheriff has been taking bribes, so he’ll be of no use to us, but he knows someone else who might be able to help the good people here in Deadwood. I forget the man’s name, but Derek was going to send him a telegram tonight.” Sarah’s smile broadened. She took a sip of her wine, and then turned to look at Ellie Mae. “Derek really is a prince, isn’t he?”

“A prince. A king. I can’t say for certain, but whatever he is, he’s royalty.” Ellie Mae sighed a bit dramatically and rolled her eyes heavenward. “I won’t ask you for a second time with him. We both agreed that it would only happen once…but now that I know what that is supposed to feel like, how am I ever going to be satisfied with anyone else?” She looked at Sarah questioningly. “Is he always that good?”

Sarah nodded. “Always.”

“I’m sooo jealous. You just wouldn’t believe how jealous I am.”

Before Sarah could issue the blathering reply suggesting that one day soon Ellie Mae would find her own version of Derek Jordan (Sarah didn’t believe there was another Derek out there to find), there was a knock at the front door. Sarah’s countenance broke into a beaming smile as she leaped from the chair.

“Derek’s here! He said he’d come to me just as soon as he sent the telegram,” Sarah explained as she worked open the locking bolt on the door.

The instant the bolt was thrown, the handle turned and the door burst open, striking Sarah hard, knocking her backward several steps. Edgar stepped into the room and kicked the door closed. Sarah, stunned at having been struck in the forehead by the door, was on wobbly legs for a couple seconds.

“You’ve no right to come in here!” Ellie Mae said after a moment, but there wasn’t quite the vehemence to her voice that Sarah had hoped for.

While rubbing her forehead with her fingertips, Sarah looked at Edgar and asked, “What are you doing here, Edgar? Don’t you know that it’s over between us? You’re the one who burned my house. You had your bully boys do the dirty work while making yourself visible to all at the bank. That didn’t fool me for a second.” Her mouth quirked into an expression of utter contempt. “It didn’t fool anybody. The whole town’s talking about you.”

It was only then that Sarah realized Edgar’s right hand was in the pocket of his jacket. The smile on his face was maniacal, insane in a way that Sarah had never before seen—and suddenly she was frightened. She hadn’t really been frightened when her ex-fiancé had first burst into Ellie Mae’s home…but she was scared now, right down to the marrow her bones.

Edgar pulled his hand from his pocket. Inside his fleshy fist was a small, gold-plated, double-barreled derringer. Even though she knew almost nothing at all about guns, Sarah could tell that the piece was meant to be showy, but that didn’t make it any less lethal. Her spine stiffened, and she stopped rubbing the bump on her forehead. For once in his life, Edgar Patterson was a man to be taken seriously.

In as calm a tone as she could manage, Sarah asked, “What are you doing, Edgar?”

“You and I are going to do a little business transaction. Right here; right now.” With his left hand he pulled several sheets of folded paper out of the inside breast pocket of his suit coat. With a snap of his wrist, he unfolded the pages and stepped over to the kitchen table where Sarah was. “You’re going to sign right where I tell you.”

“What are these?”

“Deeds to your homestead. You’re selling your land to me.”

“Like hell I am!” Sarah snapped, her eyes shooting emerald green flames at the man she now loathed with a passion.

Edgar pointed the deadly little pistol at her face and slowly thumbed back the hammer. “Sign your name to the deed of sale, or I’ll blow your fucking brains out.”

Sarah looked down the big, black twin barrels of the pistol, closed her eyes. “No. I won’t do it, and if you kill me, you still won’t get the land.” Very slowly, she opened her eyes. Edgar was still standing in front of her, towering over her with that golden gun in his hand
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but now in his eyes was doubt. “I know you hate me. I don’t care. I welcome your hatred. I won’t sign the papers, Edgar, and I won’t sell you my land…and there’s not a damn thing you can do to change that.”

Sarah almost smiled then. Almost, but not quite. She had thwarted Edgar with her refusal to be cowed by his threat of violence. But she hadn’t counted on Edgar’s merciless savagery, or on his understanding of her emotional vulnerability.

Despite his size, Edgar moved swiftly though not light-footedly, rushing to the overstuffed chair by the fireplace and its slender occupant. Ellie Mae let out a short scream and put her hands up to defend herself. Edgar batted her hands away and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her cruelly to her feet. He put the muzzles of the derringer to the back of her head and then turned slowly to look at Sarah with eyes that held not a trace of sympathy.

“If you don’t care about your own life, that’s fine. But if you don’t sign that deed of sale, I’ll blow this bitch’s brains all over this room.”

“Don’t!” Sarah screamed. Edgar smiled, and Sarah knew that she had shown him her weakness, and that he would exploit his knowledge to the fullest. “Leave her alone,” Sarah whispered, the horror of abject defeat washing over her. “This isn’t her fault.”

Edgar, never one to miss the opportunity to inflict pain, whether it was physical or emotional, shook Ellie Mae hard by the hair for a full fifteen seconds. When he stopped, he jammed the muzzles of the derringer into her temple and, with eyes glowing red with sadism, looked at Sarah once again and asked, “So, are you ready to sign the deed, or do you want to watch me administer some justice to this big-mouthed bitch?”

Sarah looked into Ellie Mae’s eyes. Earlier they had held horror in them, primal fear. Now they were glassy, her gaze unfocused. She was in the early stages of shock. Sarah decided that, for Ellie Mae, going into shock was a small blessing because she wouldn’t be entirely aware the danger she was in, or the pain that Edgar was joyously but needlessly inflicting.

“I’ll do it! I’ll sign the deed!” Sarah said, the words tumbling out of her mouth.

She had recently discovered that Edgar was evil, it was true. But it wasn’t until that very moment, when she could look Edgar directly in the eyes as he held Ellie Mae by the hair and the small golden pistol to her temple, that Sarah realized he was evil. Pure evil. All the fancy clothes that Edgar favored, the golden Palomino mare and the hand-tooled saddle and bridle that was finer and more ostentatious that any owned by anyone in Deadwood—it was all just a disguise. Beautiful things that people could see, things to disguise the malicious, unholy person hidden by those things.

In a tone of deathly authority, Derek said, “Put the gun down, Edgar.”

Sarah let out a frightened squeal as she spun to face Derek. He had come in through the bedroom, as he had earlier. Now Sarah was happy with her lover’s unconventional method of entering a home.

“I’ll kill her!” Edgar hissed, holding Ellie Mae tightly by the hair as he ground the muzzles of the derringer even more forcefully into her temple. “Put your gun down or she’s dead. I’ll kill this bitch and it’ll be your fault if—“

Derek added a couple more ounces of pressure to the trigger of his Colt, and the awesome weapon roared its fury. Sarah heard the body crumble lifelessly to the floor. Ellie Mae started screaming. Sarah rushed to her, taking her into her arms. She tried very hard to not look at the corpse on the floor at her feet.

“Derek’s here,” Sarah said, ushering Ellie Mae away from the corpse and toward the kitchen chairs. “Derek’s here now, so everything is going to be fine. We’re safe. Derek’s here.”

* * * *

A curious thing happened at the bank following the shooting of Edgar Patterson. The First Bank and Trust burned to the ground. A rumor went around that a tall man, dressed all in black, had been seen in the bank after it had closed—but the people weren’t really interested in finding out his identity, and soon there were so many rumors going around that the arsonists could fit any and all descriptions. All of the money had been placed inside the fireproof iron safe, so the patrons of the bank didn’t lose so much as a single dime. But the land deeds held by the bank, and all the records of loans given and other financial transactions, had not been put in the safe, which was extremely usual. Every record of bank transactions simply vanished into smoke.

Jerome Patterson, unable to prove who owed him money, insisted that heads roll. And since he had just palmed five thousand dollars to the territorial governor, he was quite certain he’d soon have the First Bank and Trust back in high-profitable operation.

The territorial governor convened a special panel to investigate the mysterious bank fire, as well as the bank operations. The more the investigators checked into Jerome Patterson, the more corrupt his entire operation appeared.

Jerome Patterson, financially and emotionally shattered, rode out of town one night and was never seen again.

The investigation into the First Bank and Trust took three months, and during that time Sarah discovered that she was pregnant with Derek’s child. She hesitated telling him, knowing that he was a wanderer and not a man likely to be happy with all the responsibilities that went along with fatherhood and husbandry. Sarah was quite wrong. Derek insisted that they get married immediately. He was offered the job of sheriff, but he turned the offer down because Sarah said she couldn’t sleep a wink if she knew her husband wore a badge in a town like Deadwood. However, Michael Duerson needed a chief of security for his various enterprises, and Derek accepted the position.

The child, christened Ellie Mae Jordan, had green eyes like her mother, and a dimple in her cheek like her father.