“I was doing well at a table and one of the men asked me to have a cigar with him outside. The next thing I know, some other big fellows jumped me and hit me on the head. When I woke up, I was here.”
“That's all you remember?”
“Apart from being stuffed in here while they threatened me, that's all there was.”
“Did they hurt you at all?” Clint asked.
“They knocked me around some, but it wasn't as bad as the knock to the head. That still hurts like hell.”
“Good,” Clint said as he stood up. “Then you can stand up and help me lift this fellow up so he can take your place.”
Marty stood up slowly. When the ropes dropped away from him, he looked as if he might give Clint a grateful bear hug.
“He might be coming around,” Clint said as a way to stop the hug before it got started.
Marty turned his enthusiasm toward the man on the floor and did most of the work in lifting him up. When he dropped him onto the chair, Marty was looking right into the man's face as he started to groan and open his eyes.
Before Clint could lift a finger, Marty slammed his fist into the man's face and dropped him right back into unconsciousness.
“How do you like that?” Marty said to the man who was already slumping into the chair.
Clint had the ropes in hand and started looping them around the new prisoner.
THIRTY-THREE
Mia hurried to the hallway leading to room number one. There were plenty of hallways throughout the riverboat, but most of them were short and skinny. Only one on each deck ran the entire length of the boat, and this wasn't one of them. In fact, this hallway barely ran for more than a few paces and only led to one door.
That door, however, had a small number one painted on it. It also had two large men with guns at their hips nearly blocking her view.
After a quick look down that hall, Mia put on a large smile and, with her hands held behind her back, walked toward the door and its guards.
“Well, well,” she said sweetly. “What have we here?”
Although both of the men took a moment to look her over, only one of them spoke.
“Are you looking for someone?” he asked.
“Sure. I'm looking for two big, strong men to give me something to do since everyone else is obsessed with playing cards all day long. You think you can help me with that?”
They both chuckled, but the spokesman shook his head. “Maybe later. You should probably move along.”
“What about the man in that room? Maybe he'd like to play with me?”
“Mr. Crane is getting ready for a private game, and it's not the sort you're after.”
Having made her way all they way up to the guards, Mia reached out to place one hand flat against each of their chests. She rubbed them up and down, while shifting her eyes back and forth between them. “How do you know what I'm after?” she purred.
“I think I can hazard a guess.”
Her eyes narrowed a bit, and she pursed her lips as if she couldn't decide whether she wanted to say something or give him a kiss. Finally, she whispered, “You could always let me in so I could ask him myself.”
The guard seemed to take a moment to consider the offer. Either that, or he was just enjoying having Mia so close to him. Reluctantly, he told her, “I don't think so, ma'am. You should probably leave.”
The second guard jumped in by offering, “You could always come back a little later. I'll bet one of us would be more'n happy to oblige you with a game or two.”
“Really?” Mia whispered as she sauntered in between the two guards. She kept her hands on both of them until she was within an inch of the door. Suddenly, she turned around and then replaced her hands upon both men's chests. “Why wait until later?”
Even the guard who'd been speaking in a stern, controlled voice the entire time looked as if he might choke when he heard that. He glanced between her and his partner without being able to get a word out of his mouth.
The second guard, on the other hand, wasn't having the same sort of trouble. “What do you have in mind, sweetie?” he asked.
Mia never took her eyes off the men's faces. When she wasn't looking one in the eyes, she was staring down the other. The intensity in those glares was almost enough on its own to put both men under her command.
“We can't just . . . ,” the first guard sputtered.
“I can take care of both of you right here,” Mia said. “Since one of you is a little nervous, I can start with the one who's more willing.”
“That'd be me,” the second guard said as he took a step closer to her.
The first guard gritted his teeth and fixed his eyes upon his partner as if he was going to knock the other man's head clean off his shoulders. Before he could say or do a thing, Mia was already in motion.
Both of her hands dropped down to the guards' gun belts. She plucked each man's gun from its holster with so much ease that she was able to raise them, aim one at each man's face and thumb the hammers back.
Taking a few quick steps away from the door, Mia put herself out of the guards' reach and was able to keep an eye on both of them at the same time.
“What the fuck is this?” the second guard grunted.
Keeping her feet planted and her guns pointed at both men's heads, she replied, “The last day of your lives if you don't play your cards right.”
The first guard barely even moved his lips as he snarled, “You're dead.”
“Is that what you said to the people in those banks you robbed? Or what about the men who came after those horses you stole?” she asked the second guard. “Did you have anything to say to them? I know who both of you are: Pete Northern and Don McNabb.”
Just seeing the surprised look on those two men's faces was more than enough to tell Mia she was on the right track. Of course, recognizing them from wanted posters displayed by the Texas Rangers didn't hurt.
“I also know you're working for Jack Solomon,” she said. That statement was a slight gamble, but it quickly paid off.
“So you know,” McNabb, the first guard, said. “So what?”
“So when were you going to move on Daryl Crane?” Mia asked.
The guards looked back and forth at each other, with McNabb fiercely glaring to keep Pete silent.
“It's all right,” Mia said. “You don't have to say anything anymore. You look like guilty bastards and that's just what you are. Practically every big player on this boat knew Crane was coming, so that was no secret.”
“So what the hell do you want from us?” McNabb asked.
“Tell me everything that Solomon has planned and I might consider letting you go.”
“No, you won't.”
“How can you be so sure?” Mia asked.
McNabb smirked and replied, “Because you're the law, and no law in their right mind would let us go.”
“Maybe I'm not the law.”
“If you weren't, you woulda shot by now.”
When Mia smirked, it wiped the grin right off of McNabb's face. “Then maybe I'm not in my right mind.”
“What you gonna do now?” Pete asked. “Sooner or later someone will come along and see you with them guns in your hands.”
“Guess I'd better put them to use, then,” Mia said. “Unless you want to strike a deal and tell me what I want to know.”
After saying that, Mia didn't make a move.
McNabb, on the other hand, dropped down for the backup holster strapped to his boot, and Pete followed suit by reaching for his jacket pocket.
Mia pulled both of her triggers, sending a bullet into Pete first and then dropping McNabb.
As the bodies were falling, the door was pulled open and a distinguished-looking gentleman looked out from his room.
“Mr. Crane?” Mia said as she approached him with a smoking gun in each hand. “We need to talk.”
THIRTY-FOUR
When Clint and Mia met up again, each of them was surprised to find that the other wasn't alone. Clint walked into Mia's room with Marty in tow. Since the room wasn't much bigger than his, and there were now four people in it, closing the door suddenly became a challenge.
Mia got up so Marty could sit next to Crane, while Clint took a spot close to the door. Introductions were quickly made, and then Clint and Mia both swapped stories as to what they'd been doing since they split up. When they were done, Mia asked, “Can you think of a better place to hide these two?”
“Sure,” Clint replied. “Anywhere off of this boat.”
“But there's not a stop scheduled until we're on our way back up the river. And Solomon will have made his move by then.”
“You still don't even know what, exactly, that move is going to be,” Clint pointed out.
Mia started to speak. She wanted to speak. She even made a second attempt to speak, but she finally wound up shaking her head. “I know what he wants to do, but you're right. I still don't know exactly how he's going to do it.”
“I'll bet I know someone who does,” Clint said.
“Really?”
Clint nodded and looked over to the two men sitting on the cot. “Tell us what happened, who did this to you and what they said.”
Both Crane and Marty looked surprised.
“I already told you what happened,” Marty said. “That's all I can remember.”
“What about you?” Clint asked. “What do you remember, Mr. Crane?”
Crane looked to be a bit older than his years, but that was mainly due to the way he carried himself. A narrow goatee made his face seem longer and sharper than it truly was, and spectacles perched on his nose gave him a bookish quality that made him seem better suited for a library than a poker game.
Still, when Crane opened his mouth to speak, he delivered the goods. “Jack Solomon is the man who tried to kill me,” he said.
Clint and Mia both turned to him and fixed all of their attention on what he was saying.
“You were just being held prisoner,” Mia pointed out. “Are you certain you were going to be killed?”
“Oh, yes,” Crane replied.
“And you're certain Jack Solomon is the man behind it?”
“Most definitely. I recognized him.”
“You saw him?” Mia asked as some of the excitement came back into her voice.
Crane nodded. “He approached me almost as soon as I came on board. He said he knew all about my lumber business and would burn every last one of my mills to the ground if I didn't hand over every bit of money I brought with me to this tournament.”
“How did he know how much money you had?” Clint asked.
“I don't know,” Crane said, “but it's a substantial amount. He said I was to lose it all to him and a few other men he pointed out, and I would never hear from him again.”
“So why do you think he was going to kill you?” Clint asked.
“I could see it in his eyes. He was lying to me when he said he'd let me go. He was lying when he said he just wanted the money I brought to gamble with. He wasn't lying, however, when he said I wouldn't hear from him again. I assume that was a sick joke since I wouldn't hear from anyone after I was killed.”
“That's a lot to figure out from that one conversation,” Clint said.
“Do you play poker, sir?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know it's in a player's best interests to figure out as much as he can in as little time as possible. I've played cards with Solomon before. That's how I recognized him now. He's a proficient liar, but he was barely even trying this time around. I guessed that was because he had no intention of letting me out of this room. At least, not alive.”
Clint studied the scholarly man for a few seconds. What threw him off the most was how calm Crane appeared to be. He sat with his back straight and his hands folded on his lap as if he was simply waiting for another appointment. Not even Crane's glasses moved from their spot perched on the bridge of his nose.
“Can you tell me what Solomon looks like?” Mia asked.
Crane looked over to her, blinked and said, “I assure you, it was him.”
“I believe you. It's just that . . .” She trailed off and nervously glanced over to Clint. Letting out a reluctant sigh, she said, “I just need to be able to spot him.”
“You don't know his face?” Clint asked.
“I don't think any of the Rangers know his face.”
“I could draw him out in a card game,” Crane said. “But you'd have to be able to keep a close watch to make sure I don't wind up right back where I was.”
Clint shook his head. “Too risky.”
“They might not kill me if they know I've got protection. Solomon bought off the fellows that were supposed to guard me.”
“I know they'll kill me,” Marty said. “They were going to try to get a ransom from my family, but they were gonna kill me. There's no way those bastards would have just taken the money and let me go, pretty as you please.”
Clint grinned and flinched when he heard that. “Oh yeah,” he said. “There might be someone else who can help us.”
“Who?”
“One of the men who was guarding Marty is still alive.”
Mia rubbed her eyes and moaned. “If Solomon hasn't already found him by now.”
“I doubt anyone's found him yet.”
THIRTY-FIVE
The poker room at the front of the boat wasn't as noisy as the one in the back, but it was just as small. With windows spread across three of the four walls, all six of the room's tables were flooded with light as well as a splendid view of the river. Only two games were being held in that room, but the men at the tables didn't seem too concerned with their cards or the spectacular view.