Lone Star 05 by Wesley Ellis Read Free Book Online Page B

way out.
    Jessie and Scott found the air more breathable in the street. Although the audience with the Mormon patriarch had been a limited success, she was still apprehensive about what lay ahead for her in Skyler. As she and the deputy marshal turned to head back to the hotel, her fears were reinforced by the appearance of three men coming toward them.
    One was a small, impeccably dressed man in his forties, with blond hair and an erect, almost military carriage. His head was large, and the features of his face well formed, but she did not find him handsome in the least. A deep scar shot across his forehead, and his lips curled jaggedly. The other two were hulking men, each over six feet tall, who followed the shorter man’s lead. Jessie guessed immediately that the short man was Mueller.
    Scott drawled out of the side of his mouth, “That’s the foreign feller I told you about, and his bodyguards. Wonder what he’s up to.”
    Mueller walked directly up to them, his boys staying a step behind him, and nodded curtly to Scott. “Marshal,” he acknowledged. Then his gaze shifted to Jessie Starbuck. He eyed her appreciatively, from head to toe and said, “I have not had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, Miss Starbuck. And it is indeed a pleasure.” His blue eyes sparkled confidently, and he toyed at his gold watch chain with a well-manicured hand. He bowed slightly, inclining his head, then snapped erect. His polished black boots seemed impervious to the street dirt. “I am Heinrich Mueller, at your service,” he said.
    â€œThat’s what I figured,” Jessie replied, already distrusting the oily-mannered Prussian. “How do you know who I am?”
    â€œAh,” the little man said. “Your name is well known in the American West, as was your father’s. And in a small town like this one, people talk. It was not long after you signed the register in the Skyler Inn that everyone with ears knew of your arrival.”
    â€œAnd do they say why I am here?” She wondered what the hell this man was getting at—and why he was here in the first place. His slight accent sounded carefully cultivated, as if he could speak pure, perfect English if that suited his purpose. He was an altogether repugnant figure to her, and her gut told her that he was in the employ of the cartel that had killed her father. Hatred for him boiled up within her.
    â€œThey say many things. They say you attempted to visit the prisoner Thomas Starbuck, the boy killer who says you are his sister.”
    â€œI’m here to disprove that,” she replied. “And I don’t have time for idle talk. Come, Marshal.”
    â€œPerhaps later we can engage in a less idle converstion, Miss Starbuck,” the German said. “I too have business to conduct. I am meeting with Mr. Carpenter—a remarkable man, don’t you agree?”
    But Jessie did not reply. She took Ulysses Scott’s arm and spun away. A killing rage was coming over her, and she did not want to explode in front of Mueller until she knew more about him—why he was in Skyler, and what business he could have with the fiery Mormon leader.

Chapter 4
    The town deputy carried a smoky coal-oil lamp into the dark cell. Jessie could hardly breathe, the air was so foul, dank, and musty. The lamp barely lit the cell, casting a yellowish glow that tinged everything a dirty gold. For the first time she looked into the eyes of the young man who claimed to be her father’s son.
    Thomas Starbuck looked to be every bit of twenty years old, but not a day older. His unlined oval face, though begrimed and half covered with a shock of chestnut hair that spilled over his eyes, was strangely appealing and—could it be?—familiar. Those eyes, green and piercing, held the secret of many days on the run, many strongboxes looted, and many men killed. They were deadly eyes. Yet his gaze was steady and clear. He did