Churchill nodded. “Jimmy and Jenny were close, that’s true. What does this have to do with the money? You spent it all?”

“Not spent it—invested it.” Whitehead waved his hand. “Some of it’s right here—I’m a partner in this saloon. And there’s other stuff, too, like land and buildings. That’s what Jimmy and I talked about—getting rich off our investments.”

Churchill grimaced. “How much you got in cash?”

“Maybe five thousand, but most of it is in the bank. I got some in my safe in the office, but it’s only two or three hundred. The bank doesn’t open until morning.”

Churchill cursed. “That’s not too good for you, Whitehead.”

“Frank, right? Frank, call me George. Look, I didn’t cheat your brother. We were always going to be partners. Split it right down the middle. But things worked out different. Half of what we got belongs to him, but I can’t turn it into cash. You understand? Look, I’ll be as fair as I can. I can get you four thousand in the morning and we’ll call it fair.”

“Four? You said you had five!” He raised the gun again.

“Frank, I’ve got to have some cash on hand. You know, for expenses.”

“You said you had some cash in your safe. Five thousand, Whitehead.”

Whitehead sighed. “All right, all right, five thousand. Mind if I sit down?”

Churchill agreed and both took a seat at the small table, across from each other.

“You know,” Whitehead said conversationally, “it’s been a long time. Seven years. How come you’re just looking me up now?”

“I couldn’t leave home until recently, ’cause my folks needed me. Now that they passed on, I began to look for you.”

“And your sister?”

“She ran off with a traveling salesman four years back. Last I heard, she was in Detroit.”

“Hmm.”

“What’s that mean?”

“You’re a smart man, Frank. It’s not like I was hiding, but still, you found me. That shows a sharp mind. I can use a sharp mind. What did you plan to do with Jimmy’s share?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t think that far.”

Whitehead leaned across the table, lowering his voice. “You know, I got some people working for me that… well, they ain’t got one brain between them. I’ve got to do all the thinking and planning, and it’s wearing on me. This guy Denny I have riding for me? I think he’s loco, and I have to get rid of him. I was just thinking the other day how things would be if Jimmy was here. We’d be a lot further along, I’ll tell you that. You think of settling down?”

Churchill blinked. “What—here?”

“Sure. Jimmy was always supposed to be my partner. You’re smart—you could take his place. I need somebody I can count on. How ’bout it?”

“You asking me to throw in with you?”

“It would be worth a lot more than half of twenty-five in a couple of years. I’ve got plans.”

“What kind of plans?”

Whitehead grinned. “Oh, no. You want to know, you got to come in. But think about it. Would I be hanging around this pissant place if I wasn’t going to be rich?”

Churchill licked his lips. “I don’t know. Can I trust you?”

Whitehead laughed. “Hell, can I trust you? You’re the one with the gun!”

Churchill placed the pistol on the table, just under his right hand. “I got to think about this. You’re going to just give me half of everything you’ve got going?”

“Frank, Frank, I ain’t stupid. What I’ve built up already is worth more than the original stake. At twelve and a half, your part would be something like… one third. Junior partner, but still my partner.

“But the sky’s the limit. You can have any woman you want in this saloon. People jump when you talk. And in a couple of years, we’ll have this whole county. That’s better than sleeping in a bedroll outside with the snakes and Indians, right?” Whitehead’s eyes gleamed.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Look, why don’t you sleep on it, all right? Come see me in the morning, and we’ll get the papers drawn up. Or if you’d rather pass, we’ll go down to the bank for your money.”

“Yeah, and I just let you walk out of here—to bring back your men for me. That ain’t going to happen.” Churchill put his hand on the gun.

Whitehead wore a hurt expression. “Aww, Frank. I wouldn’t do that. Tell you what—you come with me. Stay in my house. No one’s going to touch you—you’ve got my word on it.” He stood up, extending his right hand.

Without thinking, Churchill automatically lifted his right hand off the pistol and took Whitehead’s hand. Whitehead’s eyes never left his as they shook. Suddenly, Whitehead’s grip tightened and his left hand came up, holding Churchill’s gun. Before Churchill could scream, Whitehead fired into his chest. The man fell backwards onto the floor, and Whitehead walked around the table, gun extended. Churchill tried to talk, the pain just starting to register, but the last sound he would hear was Whitehead’s low snarl.

“You should’ve paid closer attention, Frank. Nobody ever expects a left-handed man.”

Whitehead shot him again as Pyke forced the locked door, gun in hand. “Boss! What happened?”

George whirled on him, anger clearly written on his face. “I thought you searched him!”

“I did, boss, I did! He must’ve sneaked it in somehow.”

Whitehead jammed the still smoking barrel in Pyke’s throat. “If I thought for one moment you tried to cross me—”

Sally Younge ran in. “George, don’t! It’s not his fault!” Whitehead turned. “That man had a package delivered a few minutes before you got here.”

Whitehead released Pyke. “I’m sorry, boss, I’m sorry—”

Whitehead cut his henchman off. “Shut up. We got to clean this up.”

Younge patted Whitehead on the arm. “I’ll go settle the patrons. Tell ’em some drunken cowboy was plinking holes in the ceiling. They’ll believe it—it’s happened before.” She dashed out, closing the door behind her.

Whitehead looked down at Churchill’s body. “Wait until later,” he told Pyke, “then wrap him up in the carpet and get him out of town. Get rid of the body. Bury him somewhere on the B&R. Don’t throw him in the river. I don’t want him found. You hear me, Pyke? No one finds him. Don’t mess this up.”

Pyke assured him it would be done as instructed. Whitehead took one last look at the body.

“Yeah, Frank, you were Jimmy’s brother, all right. Just as stupid.” He tossed the pistol onto the body and walked out of the room.

Beth couldn’t escape Caroline. For a woman who didn’t enjoy her company, she always seemed to be around. She invited herself to the Musical Society and immediately took over the meeting. Beth’s resentment of the woman was such that she couldn’t give any credence to her perfectly fine performance of Mozart.

When Caroline wasn’t bragging about the music teachers she once had, she was trying to ingratiate herself with Will Darcy. Darcy, as was his custom, had accompanied his sister and cousin to the meeting, and Caroline took advantage of it, talking to him at every opportunity.

“Look at that,” Charlotte whispered to Beth. “Doesn’t the woman have any pride at all? She’s almost shoving her bosom into Mr. Darcy’s face. For all the good it’s doing her—Mr. Darcy’s clearly uncomfortable.”

“Mr. Darcy’s always uncomfortable,” Beth returned spitefully. She couldn’t understand her resentment. She should have laughed at Caroline’s exhibition and Darcy’s embarrassment, but she could not. Instead, she was angry. Angry at Caroline for the way she was acting, and angry at Darcy for not doing… something. Beth wasn’t sure exactly what it was Darcy was supposed to do, but he should have been doing it. Her strange thoughts only added to her confusion and aggravation.

“Poor Caroline!”

Beth turned to her friend. “Poor Caroline? Why should you feel sorry for her? She’s a selfish witch who thinks she’s better than us.”

Charlotte smiled slightly. “You sound a little jealous.”

Beth gaped. “Jealous?”

Charlotte put her hand on her arm. “Shush! They’ll hear you.”

In a much lower voice, Beth said, “I’m certainly not jealous of Caroline Bingley.”

Charlotte still wore that slight smile. “Well, she’s certainly jealous of you.”

“Whatever for?”

Charlotte just shook her head and looked pointedly at Will Darcy. It took a moment for Beth to catch on. It was then she did laugh.

“Will Darcy? You think she’s jealous over Will Darcy? Then she has no eyes in her head! He and I agree on one thing—we can’t stand one another.”