Gunsmith #361 : The Letter of the Law (9781101553657) Read Free Page A

talking.
    The saloon was called the Big Tap Saloon, and when they entered, Clint saw why. It was fairly small, but the bar filled almost half the room, and the beer taps themselves were huge. Clint only hoped the beer itself matched the bar and the taps—and it did. It was cold, and smooth.
    â€œBest beer in town,” Dixon said. “If you want games and girls, though, you go to one of the bigger places.”
    â€œI stopped into one of those earlier, without even noticing the name,” Clint said. “The bartender was a young guy who thought I needed a girl.”
    â€œYou were probably in the Tumbleweed,” Dixon said. “The bartenders there are pretty aggressive.”
    â€œThe Tumbleweed?”
    â€œYeah, I know,” Dixon said, “not very original.”
    â€œThis beer is good,” Clint said. He paused to look around the place. It looked like there were only eight to ten tables, but they all had two or three people at them.
    â€œYeah, most of the men around here want the action of the girls and the games, so you can usually get a table or bar space here.”
    â€œSo,” Clint asked, “how long do you think you’ll be doing this postmaster job?”
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    Lenny Wilson finally found Al Wycliffe holed up in a room with a whore. It wasn’t a hotel or a whorehouse, but the girl’s own room. Somebody told him they saw Wycliffe with the girl and where she lived.
    The girl was a tall, skinny whore named Patty. She worked in the whorehouse, but she had special “clients” that she took home with her, and Wycliffe was one of them.
    Wycliffe liked Patty because she was tall and had amazingly long legs. He especially liked to hold her by the ankles, spread her, and fuck her like that. Those legs seemed to reach all the way to the ceiling, and it excited him to spread-eagle her like that.
    Wycliffe was a big man, and while Patty didn’t mind it when he did that to her, sometimes she thought he’d get carried away and break her in two. It actually wouldn’t have been a bad way to go, though, because when he held her that way, his big dick seemed to hit her in just the right spot when he drove it into her. And he was the only man who fucked her in this fashion.
    They were both thoroughly engrossed in what they were doing when the knock came on the door.
    Wycliffe grabbed his gun from a nearby table, turned, and fired a shot through the door, then put the gun down and grabbed Patty’s ankles again.
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    Outside the door as he knocked, Lenny Wilson—nobody’s fool—stepped to the side just as a bullet punched through the door.
    â€œJesus, Al!” he shouted.
    â€œGo away!” Wycliffe yelled back from inside.
    â€œBut I got a message for you from the sheriff!” Lenny called back.
    No answer.
    â€œIf I don’t deliver it, he’s gonna give me hell!”
    Lenny heard voices from inside, low at first, and then raised . . .
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    â€œJesus, Al,” Patty said, glaring up at her lover, “can’t you get him to go away? I’m tryin’ to concentrate here!”
    â€œI’m tryin’,” he said.
    â€œWell,” she said, “whatever you do about him, don’t you dare stop doin’ what you’re doin’ to me!”
    â€œDamn it! he thought.
    â€œWhat the hell is it, Lenny?” he called, still fucking Patty. “Just yell it out.”
    From outside the door Lenny yelled, “The sheriff says you should hold off on your plans, and come and see him as soon as you can.”
    â€œOkay,” Wycliffe said. “You delivered the message. Now get outta here!”
    â€œOh, baby, yeah,” Patty said, “come on, harder, do it harder . . .”
    â€œI’ll do it harder all right, bitch,” he growled back at her.
    Wycliffe knew that Patty used whore talk on her clients, but when she spoke to him during sex, he knew she meant what she said.
    He