Longarm and the Devil's Bride, page 11
She looked up at him, frowning in puzzlement. “Why would I be hurt? It looked like you were the one those men were after.”
“A few slugs went flying around,” Longarm said. “I was afraid you might have been hit.”
The conductor said, “The only one who was hit was that fella down there.” He motioned toward the body of the man Longarm had been forced to ventilate. “He’s dead. You better do some talking, mister. I want to know why this fracas broke out on my train.”
Under other circumstances, Longarm could have pulled out his badge and bona fides and smoothed over the conductor’s ruffled feelings. As it was, though, he didn’t want to announce his identity as a lawman, even though it appeared that someone—likely Grant Stockton and maybe others—was already aware of it. Instead, he let some genuine anger seep into his voice as he said, “I’d like to know why, too. That fella and another gent jumped me and tried to kill me. All I did was protect myself.”
“There were two of them? Where’s the other one?” Grim-faced, Longarm replied, “He fell between two of the cars up ahead. I don’t reckon there’s much left of him . . . not in one piece, anyway.”
Marie shuddered, and so did several of the other women standing around in the aisle. A man muttered a low-voiced oath that sounded as much like a prayer as a curse. The conductor asked, “Is that why you pulled the emergency cord?”
Longarm nodded, not bothering to explain that he hadn’t pulled the cord personally. The end result was the same. He said, “I reckon we better get a lantern and take a paseo back along the tracks.”
“I guess so,” the conductor agreed reluctantly.
A new voice spoke up from the rear door, rapping out peremptory questions. “What’s going on here? Why have we stopped?”
Marie took a sharply indrawn breath and paled slightly as Longarm glanced at her. She moved a step backward and edged behind the partially drawn curtain in front of the compartment. From there she couldn’t be seen as her brother strode into the car, his face dark with anger and concern.
Eager to stay on the wealthy rancher’s good side, the conductor said quickly, “There’s been a little trouble, Mr. Stockton, but nothing you need to be worried about—”
“The hell you say,” Stockton interrupted. “Parker there works for me. What happened, Parker?”
“A couple of men jumped me, tried to kill me.” Longarm gestured at the corpse Stockton had stepped over on his way into the car. “There’s one of ’em. Ever seen him before?”
Stockton glanced down at the man and then shook his head. “No, but I’d wager that he works for Lucius Thorne. That man will stop at nothing to get his way.”
“We’re going to have to have us a talk about Thorne,” Longarm said, a hard edge in his voice. “I can’t do my job if I’m in the dark about what’s going on.”
Stockton jerked his head in a nod. “I think you’re right, Parker. Come on back to my car when you’re through here.”
“All right.”
Stockton said to the conductor, “How long will we be stopped?”
“Not long, I hope,” the man replied.
Stockton nodded again and left. The other passengers were drifting back to their berths. Longarm glanced over at the compartment where Marie was hidden. She pulled the curtain back slightly and peeked out at him. “Is Grant gone?” she whispered.
Longarm nodded. “Stay there. I want to talk to you.”
From the sly look on the conductor’s face, the man had recognized Marie as Stockton’s sister, and he had to know from her behavior that something illicit was going on. But anybody who worked for the railroad knew that such things took place on trains all the time, so Longarm hoped the man also knew how to keep his mouth shut.
He tried to ensure that as he and the conductor walked along the tracks a few minutes later. A lantern swung from the conductor’s hand. Longarm said, “I reckon it’d be a good idea not to mention that you saw Miss Stockton in that Pullman car tonight.”
“I have to look out for the welfare of my passengers,” the man said. “Especially important passengers like Mr. Stockton. I’m sure he’d be grateful to know that his sister was all right, even though she was in that car when the shooting took place.”
Longarm grunted. “Grateful, huh?” He knew good and well what the conductor meant, and when it came to bribes, Longarm couldn’t hope to compete with Grant Stockton. He had to play the card he had wanted to keep in the hole. “Well, the federal government would be just as grateful if you’d keep things to yourself, old son.”
The conductor stopped short and swung around so that the glow from the lantern played over Longarm’s rugged face. “The federal government?” he repeated.
“That’s right. The State Department, the Justice Department, and the chief marshal’s office in Denver. Hell, Lemonade Lucy herself might feel kindly toward you,” he added, using the nickname of the First Lady, the wife of President Rutherford B. Hayes.
“You’re a lawman,” the conductor said, stating the obvious.
“That’s right.”
“Does Mr. Stockton know that?”
“What Stockton knows or don’t know ain’t none of your business, friend. Now, are we clear on that?”
“Yeah,” the conductor said grudgingly. “I guess so. I won’t say anything.”
Longarm wasn’t sure the man was completely sincere, but right now that pledge was the best he could do. He said, “Let’s go on and take a look at that hombre who fell.”
It was every bit as grisly a sight as Longarm had expected to find. The wheels of the train had chopped the skinny gunman into pieces, making him skinnier than ever. The conductor, hardened though he was by the sight of previous accidents, walked away from the railroad embankment and threw up. When he came back, shaky and white-faced, Longarm took the lantern and held it so that the light shone on the face of the dead man.
“Know who he is?”
The conductor shook his head. “No. I remember seeing him and his partner when they got on the train at Santa Fe, but I don’t think I ever saw them before that.” He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “I’ll get some porters and a piece of canvas. We’ll gather up the . . . pieces . . . and put them in the baggage car, I guess.”
Longarm left him to that gruesome task and walked back to the train. He had that conversation with Stockton to get to, but he wanted to talk to Marie first.
He swung up into the Pullman car and saw that the body there had been removed. The aisle was empty again, as all the passengers had retreated into their compartments. Longarm went to the one where Marie had been waiting for him earlier. The telltale handkerchief was gone now, but Longarm knew which compartment it was without that. He leaned close to the curtains and said quietly, “Marie?”
“Come in, Custis,” she said.
Longarm pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the shallow compartment with its pull-down bed. He let the curtain fall closed behind him. A small oil lamp lit the compartment and showed him Marie Stockton lying in the berth, the covers pulled up to her chin. She smiled at Longarm and sat up, so that the covers fell away from her. From the first sight of her bare shoulders, Longarm figured she was nude under there, and he was right. His eyes were drawn to her firm, bare breasts, creamy globes the size of apples tipped with small pink nipples. She was mighty tempting, no doubt about that.
“Thank God you’re here at last, Custis,” Marie said, her voice a husky, sensuous whisper. “Come. Make love to me.”
It cost him an effort, but Longarm said in a hard voice, “Nope. Not just yet.”
Chapter 20
She stared at him in disbelief shaded with anger. “What? What do you mean, not yet? I’ve been waiting for you—”
“We got to talk first,” Longarm said. He took off his hat, which he had retrieved from the floor of the aisle where it had fallen off during the struggle with the bushwhacker, and sat down at the foot of the berth.
Suddenly shy, Marie pulled up the sheet and covered her breasts. “What’s wrong, Custis?” she asked. “I know you might be a little upset, considering everything that happened—”
Again he interrupted her. “Having a couple of hombres try to kill him does tend to put a fella off his feed.”
“But you’re all right. You said so.”
“I ain’t hurt except for a little bump on the noggin, but I’m mighty curious. I want to know who those fellas were and why they tried to bushwhack me.”
“I don’t blame you, but I don’t see how you can find out anything tonight.”
With a slight lurch, the train started moving again. Longarm knew that meant the conductor and the porters had retrieved the mangled corpse from along the tracks.
“I can ask you if you know anything about it,” Longarm said.
Marie stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, but then her gaze grew even angrier as she figured out what he meant. “You think I had something to do with those men attacking you?”
“You’re the one who suggested we meet up here,” he pointed out. “And one of them was waiting right across the aisle from the compartment you marked with that handkerchief.”
“Get out,” she said coldly. “If you believe that I could have anything to do with those men trying to hurt you, then just leave.”
“I ain’t said that I believe it. I’m just asking, that’s all.”
“Yes, but how can I prove to you that I didn’t?” she shot back. “You either trust me or you don’t, Custis, and since you obviously don’t . . .”
“Your brother thinks they worked for Lucius Thorne.”
Marie sniffed. “That seems like a much more plausible explanation to me, too, but then, I’m not as suspicious as you are.”
This was going badly, Longarm thought. He didn’t hardly see how it could have gone any other way. Confronting Marie was bound to ruin the plans she had for the evening. Yet he’d had to know.
“What can you tell me about Thorne?”
“How would I know anything about him? He’s just some business rival of Grant’s. I’ve never met the man, never even seen him.”
“Did you get a look at the two men who jumped me?”
She shook her head. “Not really. Just a glimpse while all the fighting was going on. But I don’t remember ever seeing either of them before, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
Longarm thought she was telling the truth. Her hurt feelings could have been an act, but he didn’t think so.
It was possible the bushwhackers could have been looking for an opportunity to kill him. They might have even seen him kissing Marie on the platform between cars, though they would have had to be spying on him from one of the special cars in order to do so. Still, that wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. If that was what had happened, they could have seen Marie slip into the Pullman compartment and guessed that she was waiting there for a rendezvous with Longarm. The theory might or might not be correct, but at least it held together reasonably well and vindicated Marie.
Of course, it was still possible that Stockton had sent the men after him, Longarm thought. He couldn’t rule that out, either. The whole case was still too murky to draw any solid conclusions.
“I reckon I owe you an apology,” he said to Marie.
“I don’t know if I accept it. What makes you believe me now when you suspected me earlier?”
“I reckon I just had to hear it from you, personal-like.”
She glared at him for a long moment, but eventually a faint smile tugged at her lips. “I guess when you’re paid to be a bodyguard, you have to be suspicious,” she said. The sheet slipped a little as she leaned forward, revealing more of her shoulders and the top of the cleft between her breasts. “But you don’t have to be suspicious of me, Custis. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
“Well, that’s mighty good to know,” he said. He reached up and cupped her chin. When she didn’t pull away, he leaned closer and pressed his lips to hers. She let go of the sheet entirely, allowing it to fall to her waist again, and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Her warm breasts flattened against his chest as she pressed herself closer to him. After a moment, Longarm broke the kiss and moved his lips down to her throat. He slid them over her smooth skin, trailing kisses until he reached her left breast. He cupped the firm mound of female flesh and drew the erect nipple into his mouth, sucking gently on it. Marie said, “Ahhh . . .” and stroked his hair. He moved to her other breast and sucked and licked that nipple as well. She lay back as his kisses traveled farther south. Throwing the sheet back, she opened her legs and spread her thighs wide. The feminine cleft at the apex of the triangle of dark brown hair was pink and moist and inviting.
Longarm accepted the invitation and plunged his tongue into it.
Her hips bucked up off the berth and her thighs squeezed against his ears as he penetrated her with his oral caress. His thumbs spread the fleshy folds even wider. His tongue explored the length of her crevice and toyed with the little nubbin of flesh that crowned it. Marie cried out softly in the throes of the passion he aroused in her. As Longarm continued licking and sucking and stroking with his tongue, he slipped a hand underneath her buttocks and used a finger to tease the puckered brown opening between them. It seemed to suck his finger in.
Marie began to shudder. She bit her lip to keep from crying out as a climax rippled through her. The delta of her sex was flooded with her heated juices. Longarm kept lapping as a second culmination rocked Marie.
Breathlessly, she said, “Now . . . now you, Custis!” She took hold of his shoulders and tugged him into the berth beside her.
Longarm slipped his gunbelt off and laid it on the floor beside the bunk. Then he let Marie do the rest of the work of stripping off his duds. When she pulled down his long underwear and allowed his shaft to spring free, it stood up tall and straight and thick. Marie wrapped both hands around the pole, leaned over it, and began to lick avidly around the crown.
Longarm closed his eyes and gave himself over to the pleasure of what she was doing to him. She was good at it, licking his shaft from base to tip, using her tongue to tease the opening at the end, cupping his heavy sacs in her hand and rolling them back and forth gently. Finally she opened her mouth wide and took him in, closing her warm lips around the throbbing organ. Longarm opened his eyes then to enjoy the delicious sight of his manhood being engulfed by her mouth.
No man could withstand such exquisite torment for very long. Exceptional though he was in some areas, Longarm was still human, so after a few minutes of the French lesson, he said huskily, “Unless you want everything I got to give mighty quick, darlin’, you’d better ease up.”
In response to his warning, she swallowed even more of his shaft and began sucking harder. Longarm threw caution to the winds. If that was what she wanted, he was more than willing to oblige. When he felt his climax boiling up, he didn’t try to suppress it. Instead he rode along eagerly on the wave of passion that carried him to the crest.
His climax burst from him in spurt after white-hot spurt of thick, scalding seed. Marie sucked and swallowed, working hard to keep up with the torrent. She couldn’t quite manage to do so. Some of his juices overflowed her mouth and dribbled down her chin. When she finally had to gasp and lift her mouth from his shaft, he was still emptying himself. Strands of the stuff landed on her cheeks and nose and chin. She caught her breath and plunged down on him again, wrapping her fingers around the massive pole and squeezing so she could milk the last few precious drops from it.
At last she collapsed with her face nestled in the thick mat of hair that covered his groin. Longarm was breathing so hard he felt like he had just run a mile in the desert. He reached down and stroked her hair where it was spread out over his belly. He could feel Marie’s breasts moving against his thighs as her chest heaved from her own efforts.
When she finally lifted her head and smiled up at him, Longarm took a corner of the sheet and used it to wipe the stickiness from her face. She said, “I . . . I never knew a woman could experience so much pleasure just from . . . what I did to you. Thank you, Custis.”
“Reckon I’m the one who ought to be thanking you.” He took hold of her shoulders and urged her to slide up over him until her nude body was sprawled full-length on his. When she kissed him the taste of each other’s juices blended muskily. Longarm slid his hands down her back to the swell of her buttocks, cupped and parted them. Marie thrust her pelvis against him.
“What else are we going to do?” she asked in a whisper.
“Everything under the sun,” Longarm told her, “but not right now, I’m sorry to say.”
She raised herself slightly and frowned down at him. “Well, I didn’t mean right away, since you just . . . but in a little while . . .”
“I hope so,” Longarm said, and meant it. “But right now I got to go talk to your brother.”
Her frown deepened. “You’re leaving?”
“It ain’t like I want to,” he assured her. “But your brother’s waiting for me. We got to have a talk about this fella Thorne. It’s time he put his cards on the table.”
“Maybe. I guess I understand. You want to know what you’re up against, and I don’t blame you for that.” She pouted prettily. “But I’d rather you stay up against me for the rest of the night.”
“Me, too,” Longarm said. He was relieved to see that she was disappointed but not furious with him. “If you want to stay here, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Marie promised.
And then she gave him one more hot, searching kiss. Longarm figured that was her way of telling him not to waste any time . . . not that he intended to.
Chapter 21
The Pullman car had one of those newfangled water closets at the back of it, so Longarm stopped there and washed up a mite, so he wouldn’t smell like he had just come from a whorehouse when he sat down to talk with Grant Stockton. When he walked back through the two special cars, he heard snoring coming from several of the berths, along with the sounds of lovemaking from one of them. He figured that was where Timothy and Millicent Ford were staying, but you never could tell about things like that. Despite their staid exteriors, the Wilcoxes might just get frisky from time to time.
