Longarm and the Wyoming Woman Read Free Page B

staff watching in anticipation. “Sorry, folks,” he said, closing the door to Billy’s private office.
    He could see the disappointment on their faces, but there was no help for it, so he turned around, grinned, and said, “Hello there, Billy! I hope your week is off to a good start.”
    It was a deliberate jab meant to get a strong reaction from his boss, and it worked. “A good start! Dammit, Custis, who do you think you are, King Solomon? Everyone else who works in this building—and there must be a hundred or more—seems capable of arriving to work on time. But not you! No, not the great Longarm! Can’t you understand that you set a terrible example, especially for the newer people? How am I expected to have any discipline in this office if I allow you to come and go whenever you feel like it!”
    Longarm pulled a cheroot out of his vest pocket and took a seat. “Want a smoke?” he offered with a smile.
    â€œHell, no! You smoke dog turds !”
    â€œWrong,” Longarm said, still smiling as he scratched a match on the bottom of his boot and lit up. “These are absolutely Mexico’s finest.”
    â€œDog turds!” Billy reached into a humidor and produced a long, handsome Cuban cigar. “Now these are real cigars. And they don’t smell like burning shit!”
    â€œAh, you’re right,” Longarm said in pleasant agreement. “But you make so much more of a salary than I do that I just can’t afford the best, Billy. When you’re a poor, overworked deputy marshal, you have to drink and smoke what you can afford.”
    â€œOh, horseshit!”
    Longarm raised his eyebrows in question. “Dogshit? Horseshit? Billy, you seem to be sorta fixated on shit today. What’s the matter? Trouble at home? Want to talk about it man-to-man?”
    Billy got red in the face and pounded his fine mahogany desk. “Don’t you bait me today, Custis. I’m in no mood for it.”
    Longarm blew a smoke ring at the ceiling and studied Billy, trying to figure out why he was so much on the prod today. It had to be more than the fact that Longarm was a few hours late to the office. Longarm knew that this man had once been a lowly field man like himself and he’d been good at his job, earning many commendations for bravery. But then Billy had gotten married, sired a passel of kids, and taken office promotions until now . . . now he was just another well-paid bureaucrat, a pudgy pencil pusher. But Marshal Billy Vail was still a fine, intelligent man, and Longarm figured it was time to get serious and show his boss a little badly needed respect.
    â€œBilly,” he said, “I apologize for not coming in like everyone else this morning. I had fully intended to be on time, but I got into a fix when two muggers tried to rob a woman less than a block from our office. I had no choice but to step in and straighten things out.”
    â€œDid you arrest ’em?”
    â€œNo. I killed ’em.”
    Billy’s jaw dropped. “Jaysus! You already killed two men this morning?”
    â€œYeah, I’m afraid so. But I swear that they had it coming. They actually assaulted two women. One of them was a sweet old lady that was so upset she was rushed to a doctor. So you see, Boss, I was working this morning to rid the city of two very dangerous criminals.”
    Billy Vail never quite knew when Longarm was pulling his leg. His best deputy could do that with a straight face and you just didn’t know if he was serious or on the level. With any of his other officers, the story that Billy had just heard would seem preposterous . . . but not with Longarm. With Longarm, damn near anything was possible.
    â€œGive me the full story and don’t leave out any details,” Billy ordered, leaning back in his office chair and puffing on his Cuban cigar.
    Longarm told it straight, and ended up saying, “I took the young woman to