Under a Turquoise Sky
Read Under a Turquoise Sky Online
Authors: J. R. Roberts
“You tellin' me what to do?”
“I am,” Clint said. “I'm telling you to give the man his wallet and go back into your room.”
Clint was in an even worse mood than he'd been in when he'd left the comfort of his own bed. All he needed now was to have to kill this jasper and then have to explain it to the local law.
But the situation looked like it was beyond talking out.
“Put the wallet and the gun down,” Clint said.
Dolan turned his head to look at Clint again. The tension in his shoulder gave away what his next move was going to be. He whirled on Clint, bringing the gun aroundâ¦
THE GUNSMITH by J. R. Roberts
Clint Adams was a legend among lawmen, outlaws, and ladies. They called himâ¦the Gunsmith.
LONGARM by Tabor Evans
The popular long-running series about Deputy U.S. Marshal Longâhis life, his loves, his fight for justice.
SLOCUM by Jake Logan
Today's longest-running action Western. John Slocum rides a deadly trail of hot blood and cold steel.
BUSHWHACKERS by B. J. Lanagan
An action-packed series by the creators of Longarm! The rousing adventures of the most brutal gang of cutthroats ever assembledâQuantrill's Raiders.
DIAMONDBACK by Guy Brewer
Dex Yancey is Diamondback, a Southern gentleman turned con man when his brother cheats him out of the family fortune. Ladies love him. Gamblers hate him. But nobody pulls one over on Dexâ¦
WILDGUN by Jack Hanson
The blazing adventures of mountain man Will Barlowâfrom the creators of Longarm!
TEXAS TRACKER by Tom Calhoun
Meet J.T. Law: the most relentlessâand dangerousâmanhunter in all Texas. Where sheriffs and posses fail, he's the best man to bring in the most vicious outlawsâfor a price.
GUNSMITH 312
UNDER A TURQUOISE SKY
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
UNDER A TURQUOISE SKY
A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author
Copyright © 2007 by Robert J. Randisi.
Cover illustration by Sergio Giovine.
All rights reserved.
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ISBN: 978-1-1012-1511-1
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Kingman, Arizona, was a hub of the mining activity going on in the surrounding Cerbat Mountains. When General George Markstein alighted from the stagecoach in front of the Kingman Hotel, he had in his jacket pocket a large piece of rough turquoise, which had come out of those mountains. That piece of rock had brought him from New York all the way to Arizona, where he hoped to mine a fortune's worth of the beautiful blue stones, which he would then ship back East and sell.
“Help ya with yer bag, mister?” a drunken man offered.
Markstein looked the man over. Certainly inebriated and filthy, but somehow fit looking, he decided to cultivate the man immediately. He was, after all, an easterner, and he was going to need help integrating himself into the western lifestyle.
“Very well, my good man,” he said, handing his suitcase over. “I'm going into this hotel.”
“Best place in town to stay, mister,” the man said. “Come on, I'll show ya the front desk.”
“What's your name?” Markstein asked.
“Wooster,” the drunk answered, “Charlie Wooster.”
“Your name is Charles, then?” Markstein asked. “Very well, Charles, lead on.”
“This way,” Wooster said.
Â
“That him?” Aaron Edwards asked as the man from the East followed the town drunk, Wooster, into the hotel.
“That's him,” Carl Breckens said around a big plug of chewing tobacco. He spit and some of the juice dripped down his chin and onto his chest. He didn't notice.
“Well, when do we do it?” Edwards asked.
“When the time is right.”
“And when will that be?” the other man asked. “I want the rest of my money.”
“You ain't gonna get no more money if we don't get away with it,” Breckens told him. “We got to be smart and wait.”
“Why does bein' smart always seem to mean we gotta wait?” Edwards demanded.
“Because movin' too fast without thinkin' things through is dumb,” Breckens said.
Edwards fumed inwardly. Breckens was always calling him stupid. Well, how smart was it to dribble tobacco juice down your chin? he wondered.
“I wired ahead for the best room in your hotel,” Markstein said.
“Sir,” the clerk said, “we're very full and I did save you a room.”
“Is it the best room in the hotel?”
“Well, no⦔
“I demand to see your manager.”
“Sir, I am the manager,” the man said. “Jackson Boggs, at your service.” The man was small, about five-five, a faded looking fifty-year-old in a suit that had seen better days.
“Well, apparently not,” Markstein said. He stared down at the smaller man from his full six-foot-four, wearing his own three piece suit that had cost more than all of the furniture in the lobby combined. “Or I'd have the best room.”
“Well, sirâ¦we did have that room saved, but we had a surprise guest⦔
“And he got my room?”
“Well, sir, he'sâ”
“Never mind,” Markstein said, holding up his hand. “I don't care who he is. Just tell me what room he is in and I'll take care of the matter myself.”
“But sirâ”
“What room is he in?”
“Five.”
“And what room are you putting me in?”
“Ten.”
“Right down the hall?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good,” Markstein said, “then he won't have far to go to switch rooms.”
“Sirâ”
“Once the switch has been made, I'll inform you and you can have your maid bring fresh sheets and towels.”
“Maid?” the man asked.
“Charles,” Markstein said, turning to the man who was still holding his suitcase, “take my suitcase to room ten.”
“Yes, sir!” Charlie Wooster figured he was finally going to get paid.
“Towels?” Boggs said.
“And as soon as you fetch the remainder of my luggage from the stagecoach,” Markstein said, “I will reward you.”
“Th-the rest?” Wooster asked, as Markstein started up the steps.
“Fresh sheets?” Boggs repeated.
“Hop to, gentlemen,” Markstein said. “We don't have all day. I have matters to attend to.”