West of Paradise Read Online Free PDF Page B

gang. Jack thought he had gotten close once or twice but they seemed to have an uncanny knack for disappearing.
    In the meantime, Jack had managed to bring in a number of other people who were wanted, most of them alive. The federal marshals knew him now, sometimes asked for him. The thing was, it wasn’t what he’d planned on doing. But he couldn’t seem to forget her face and the calm way she’d raised her gun and taken aim. She’d tried to kill him, and he figured he owed her one.
    He drew out the old wanted poster from his shirt pocket, smoothing the creases away. It has to be her , he decided. No one else could possibly look like that. But as he started for the hotel he wondered why she had come back here of all places. And where was Will Cushing?
    Jack stepped inside the dimly lit lobby, surprised to find the place a little drabber than when he’d last been there. Then again, the décor had been Vera’s area of expertise, and Vera had run off with a gambler in ’78. Or so he heard.
    Shorty soon appeared from the closed door that led to his apartments, peering at Jack for a minute with a frown before breaking into a yellow-toothed grin. “Well, well, well,” Shorty said, “Ain’t seen you in a dog’s age. Not since . . . well, not since you was here after gettin’ shot. You caught that woman yet?”
    “Nope, but I’m still aiming to do so,” Jack said. He pulled out the wanted poster and spread it out over the desk, “Remember this?” he asked.
    “Sure I do, we had ’em all over this town, why . . . hey! Hey now!” Shorty plunked a finger down on the face, “I think I seen her!”
    “Shh,” Jack said. “Don’t get all excited. I think so too, but let’s keep it quiet, all right? Tell me about the woman you saw.”
    “She looked jus’ like that,” Shorty said. “Real pretty, an’ all dressed in widows’ black.”
    “What room is she in, Shorty? You got an empty one nearby?”
    “She’s in the one on the end, corner room. I can give you the one across the hall. It’s empty.”
    “I’ll take it,” Jack said.
    “You’re not gonna make a ruckus are you?” Shorty asked, getting a worried expression, “I don’t want no shootin,’ you know. This is a respectable place.”
    “I know that, Shorty,” Jack said, “And you have my word I’ll be quiet. You won’t even hear us go. But if she comes down tonight for supper you have to be nice and not let on you know who she is. Can you do that?”
    “Sure I can,” Shorty said.
    “Good,” Jack said, having his doubts. Christ, the man was sweating already. “Now, can I have a key?”
    Shorty gave him one and Jack went up the wide staircase, following the hall to the end. He opened his door and went to sit by the window. He imagined barging into her room now, wanting to get it over with. But he knew it would be better to wait. Later, after it was quiet and dark he could take her by surprise. If he went in there now she might be the one doing the surprising. And he didn’t particularly want to end up dead.
    Food, he thought, that was what he needed. A good hot meal and a couple of drinks. It had been a while since he’d had either of those two things. He supposed if he missed anything from before it was the food. Especially vegetables. No one knew how to cook vegetables. They generally boiled them until they turned to mush and served them up covered with gravy or some kind of sauce to hide the bland taste. And you had to be careful what you ate and where. He’d gotten food poisoning once and that was enough. But he was pretty sure Shorty was careful about what he served. After all, this was a respectable place.
    Jack smirked as he pulled his door closed, locking it. He turned and stuffed the key in his pocket and there in the hallway, standing not five feet away, was the object of his revenge. Her eyes widened in surprise.
    Such blue eyes , he thought. Did she remember him? Jack wondered. He hoped not. That could make things