Sweet Silken Bondage (8 page)

"I want you to find my daughter. She's run away, and
I want her brought back home."

"I see." Clay paused to take another drink, musing on
the strangeness of his request. It almost struck him as
absurd. "And just what is it your daughter is running
away from?"

"That doesn't concern you, Cordell."

"You're expecting me to risk my life for you and not
know the reason? Sorry, Alvarez, no deal."

"This wouldn't be a dangerous job, Mr. Cordell,"
Luis said haughtily. "I merely want you to locate her
and bring her back to me. It should be quite simple,
actually."

"If it's so damned simple, why don't you do it yourself?" Clay countered, knowing there was something the
man wasn't telling him.

"I have already searched the immediate area, and she is not here. It's important that no one knows she's gone."
He hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much.

"Suppose you tell me why? Then maybe I'll consider
it. Otherwise..."

Luis saw the steely glint in the bounty hunter's eyes
and knew he had to explain further. "My wife died when
Reina was just a baby, and I've raised her by myself,
Mr. Cordell. She's a very beautiful young woman, and,
as I am a man of considerable means, it has always been
my pleasure to cater to her whims. I spared no expense
through the years, yet it sorrows me to say that my
daughter has grown into a very self-centered, very
spoiled young woman. I realize now what a terrible
mistake it was for me to grant her every wish, but I love
her..."

As he spoke, Clay felt sickened. His daughter was a
beautiful, spoiled little rich girl.. just like his mother.
This Reina didn't like her life so she ran away, and she didn't care
who she hurt in the process. Clay knew already that he
wanted no part of the old man's scheme.

"She is betrothed and the wedding date is set for less
than six months away. For some reason, she's decided
she doesn't want to marry her fiance, and so she ran
away. I want you to bring her back."

As he finished relating his story, Clay became even
more firmly convinced that he wanted no part of Alvarez's offer at any price. There was no amount of
money that could convince him to go after the girl. He'd
dealt with a woman like that once, and once had been
enough.

"Sorry, Alvarez," Clay said flatly. "I feel real sorry for
you and for this fiance of hers, but it's not my problem.
I'm not interested."

Luis couldn't believe that Cordell was actually refusing him. "But there's no danger involved, and I said you
could name your own fee! All you have to do is find
Reina, bring her back and keep quiet about it while you
do it."

"Like I said, I'm not interested."

"Money is no object."

"You're right," Clay agreed, taking a drink of whiskey
to try to wash away the nasty taste in his mouth.
"Money doesn't even enter into it. Your daughter's your
problem, Alvarez, not mine. Find yourself another
errand boy."

Luis grew livid at his refusal. "Two thousand dollars!"

"Sor"

"Three!"

"Do you understand the meaning of `no,' Alvarez?"
Clay was annoyed by his persistence. "I'm turning you
down. My partner and I've got better things to do than
chase all over the countryside after your daughter!" He
took another deep swallow of the powerful liquor.

"Like drink yourselves into oblivion, Mr. Cordell?"

"You're damned right, Alvarez! Now get outta here
and send Frenchie back up on your way out. She's the
only kind of woman who interests me. She's warm and
willing and undoubtedly a real good lay. Probably
everything your daughter isn't!"

Luis sputtered with fury as Clay went on.

"Think about this, Alvarez. Maybe her fiance is the
lucky one. Maybe her taking off is the best thing that
could ever have happened to the man. She'd probably
have brought him nothing but misery anyway."

At Clay's bluntness, Luis stiffened, feeling almost as
if he'd been struck in the face. He blanched first and
then his face flushed with color as rage consumed him.
He was Luis Alvarez! How dare this American talk to
him so and say such things about his precious Reina!

Luis's black eyes narrowed dangerously as he stood at
the foot of the bed, staring at the lazy, drunken gringo
sprawled there. The fool! He obviously didn't know
who he was dealing with. Well' Luis decided with cold,
determination, he would just have to show him. Since
Rafael had told him Cordell was the best, he would have
Cordell. It just remained to be seen how he would manage it.

"I wouldn't refuse so completely, Mr. Cordell. Take
some time to think about my offer, and I'll be back in
touch with you later." Luis turned and walked to the
door.

"Don't waste your time or mine, Alvarez," Clay responded. I'm not interested."

"We shall see, Mr. Cordell. We shall see," Luis said
under his breath as he let himself out of the room.

The door to the room Devlin had taken for the
night upstairs at the Perdition Saloon opened silently,
and the large, shadowed form of a man crept inside.
The soft, diffused light from the hallway silhouetted
the intruder as he hesitated just inside the doorway,
listening, waiting, fearful of being caught. When the
low, steady sound of Devlin's drunken snoring came to
him, proving to him that it was safe to go on in, the
invader closed the door behind him. With soundless
tread, he crossed the room to the bounty hunter's
discarded clothing. After a minute of searching, the
infiltrator found what he.was looking for and, silently
and meticulously, did as he'd been instructed. That
task completed, he moved to Devlin's other belongings. Without making a sound, he took the small
package he'd been given from his own pocket and
planted it deep in the bottom of the other man's
saddlebags. One last look around assured him that he
was finished, and he backed from the room, pleased
that everything had gone so smoothly.

It was late the next night when a sudden, near
violent pounding on the door woke Devlin from a
sound, sex-sated, liquor-induced sleep. Beside him Josie, too, stirred and came awake.

"O'Keefe! We need to talk with you!" a deep, commanding voice called out.

"Who is it, Dev?" Josie whispered fearfully, wondering who would come looking for him at this ungodly
hour of the night.

"Damned if I know..." he grumbled. It took him a
minute to get his bearings as he groped in the darkness for his gun. The drunken haze that enveloped
him was slowing his reaction time, and he gave himself a hard mental shake, trying to clear his mind.
Once he had the familiar weapon in his grasp, he
finally shouted back, "Yeah ...who is it?"

"It's Sheriff Macauley, O'Keefe, and it's important
that I talk to you now!"

"Hell..." Devlin muttered, agitated. He slammed
the gun back into the holster and pushed himself
wearily from the bed. He threw the sheet more completely over Josie's lush curves, and then grabbed his
pants and tugged them on. "Cover yourself up. God
only knows what he wants. Maybe Denton escaped."
Dev stumbled across the dark room and unlocked the
door, throwing it wide. "What's so damned important
that you've gotta come-"

He never got to finish his sentence, though, as
Macauley burst into the room, gun drawn, with two
armed and ready deputies following him.

"What the-!" Devlin exclaimed, taking a jittery
step back from the unexpected force of their entry.

"Stay right where you are, O'Keefe!" the sheriff
ordered. "Carter, light that lamp so we can see something! Will, take a look around!"

"Sheriff!" Devlin protested in complete confusion.
"What's going on? What the hell do you want?"

"As if you don't know," Macauley sneered, keeping
his gun trained on the man he believed to be a coldblooded murderer.

"I don't know, Macauley!" he argued. "What are you looking for?"

"I got it, Sheriff! It's just like you said!" One of the
deputies held up Dev's silver-tooled belt.

"Let me see that!" Macauley snatched the belt from
him to study it closely. When he looked up, his
expression was filled with loathing. "You're under
arrest, O'Keefe!"

"Under arrest?" Devlin repeated stupidly. "For
what? Drinking too much?"

The sheriff's look turned scathing. "For murder.
Carter, get his gun and rifle. Will, bring the rest of his
things."

"Yes, sir."

"Murder?" Devlin continued to argue. "Whose murder? I haven't killed anybody! What the hell are you
talking about?"

"Shut up and finish getting dressed. You can ask all
the questions later from your jail cell!" the sheriff
snarled, clutching the silver belt in his hand. "Gather
up the rest of his things, boys. Well go through them
back at the office."

Moments later as they practically dragged him from
the room, Dev called out to Josie who was watching
the whole scene in astonishment from the bed, "Josie!
Go get Clay! Tell him what happened!"

Clutching the sheet around her, Josie rushed from
the bed to close the door, then hurried to begin
dressing. She had to let Dev's friend know what happened right away. When she'd finally managed to
throw on her clothes, she ran from the room and down
the hall to Frenchie's.

"Frenchie!" she cried out as she banged on the
locked portal with all her force.

"What is it?" came the other woman's sleepy response.

"Frenchie, open up! Something terrible's happened!"

The panic in her friend's voice sent Frenchie rush ing to the door clad only in a silken wrapper, and she
opened it quickly to let her in. "What's wrong? What
happened?" she asked worriedly as she drew Josie
inside.

Josie glanced over to where Clay lay, awake and
alert, in her bed. "They took Dev, Clay! You've got to
hurry! YouVe got to get over there!"

"Somebody took Dev?" Clay frowned in confusion
as he quickly sat up. "Who? Where?"

"It was the sheriff! He came barging in my room
just a minute ago and arrested him."

"Arrested him?"

Josie nodded nervously. "He said it was for
murder..."

With that, Clay nearly vaulted from the bed and
began to dress. "Tell me exactly what he said, Josie,"
he pressed urgently. He knew Dev and he knew how
he would react to being locked up.

Dev had been just a boy of ten when his parents
had fled Ireland. Neither of his parents had survived
the rough ocean-crossing to America, though, and
he'd arrived in New York with very little money and
only an uncle to rely on for help. The uncle had taken
him in, all right, but he had spent all his money and
had nearly worked him to death. When Dev had
dared to complain, his uncle had beaten him and then
locked him in a closet until he was ready to go back to
work. As soon as he was big enough and strong
enough to take care of himself, Dev had left the East
Coast and headed west to the gold fields. Still, to this
day though, Clay knew his friend couldn't stand being
cooped up in a small area. That's why he had to get
him out of that jail cell right away.

"I don't know; it all happened so fast," Josie was
saying. "I mean, he woke us up from a sound sleep."

"Just tell me what you can remember," he urged, stuffing the bottom of his shirt into the waistband of
his pants.

"It had to do with his silver belt."

"The belt?" Clay gave her an incredulous look as he
finished dressing.

"Yes. After they found it, Macauley arrested him
for murder! He even brought two deputies along with
him. I guess he thought Dev might be dangerous."

"I don't believe any of this!" Clay was still stunned
as he strapped on his gunbelt.

"Believe it!" she insisted. "He told me to tell you
right away."

"Thanks, Josie," he said as he picked up his hat and
started from the room.

"Clay..." Frenchie's call reminded him of her
presence.

"I don't know when I'll be back" he said, and then
he was gone.

Clay reached the sheriffs office to find that his
friend had indeed been arrested and was locked up in
one of the cells in the back of the jail. "Macauley, I
want to know what's going on."

Sheriff Macauley had been expecting Clay, and he
greeted the other man coolly. "You mean, you don't
know?"

"All I know is what the girl at the Perdition told
me - that you'd arrested Dev for murder."

"You got your facts right, Cordell."

"What murder?"

"It's amazin' how much you two sound alike, Cordell. Maybe I should look around some more. Maybe
you were in on this, too!"

"In on what?"

"A real nice man named Pedro Santana was murdered a couple of days ago out at his place. He was
shot in the back."

"So what's that got to do with Dev?"

"I was out there investigating early this morning,
and I found these." Macauley tossed the two small
silver medallions on the top of his desk for Clay to see. "I remembered that your friend was wearin' a real
fancy silver belt the day you brought in Denton, so I
thought I'd check it out. Seems I was right."