The Last Trail Drive by J. Roberts Read Free Book Online

sir, I didn’t.”
    â€œWell, actually,” Flood said, “the horse belongs to me. Jack was just ridin’ it. Okay, come on.”
    Flood got to his feet, swayed, and would have fallen if Spud hadn’t grabbed him.
    â€œWhoa!” he said.
    â€œI gotcha, sir.”
    â€œYeah, you do,” Flood said. “Now, why don’t you walk us over to the livery, and we’ll get us those horses. You can come out to the camp and check out your chuck wagon. How’s that sound?”
    â€œIt sounds good, Boss, but . . . can you ride?”
    â€œSure, I can ride,” Flood said. “And the fresh air will do me some good, don’t ya think?”
    â€œYessir, I do think.”
    â€œThen let’s go, Spud,” Flood said. “Let’s go.”
    Â 
    Clint and Debra left the barber shop and stopped just outside.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to act like some spooked virgin.”
    â€œYou didn’t.”
    She laughed.
    â€œYeah, I did. Truth was, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with what I was feeling. I mean, I’ve been a whore a long time. I thought I was pretty much dead inside.”
    â€œI don’t think that’s true,” he said. “Let’s walk.”
    She didn’t argue, and even allowed him to pick the direction. He headed them off toward his hotel.
    â€œI don’t live in the whorehouse,” she said. “I’ve got a room in the boarding house. Everybody thinks that’s strange. Do you think that’s strange?”
    â€œNo, I don’t.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œHow many other people do you know who live where they work?”
    She laughed again, this time with more humor than irony.
    â€œThat’s right, isn’t it?”
    â€œYup, it is.”
    Clint looked ahead and saw the sheriff coming toward them.
    â€œDebra, you got any problem with talking to the sheriff?”
    â€œNo,” she said, “but he’s got problems talking to me—or any woman, for that matter.”
    â€œThat’s so?”
    â€œHe just sort of blathers on. Doesn’t have the first idea how to talk to a woman. You know him?”
    â€œJust met him today.”
    â€œYou watch. He’ll stare at me, but talk to you.”
    As the lawman reached them, Clint saw him lick his lips, take a quick look at Debra, and then fix his eyes on Clint.
    â€œSheriff, can I help you?”
    â€œUh, well, I just wanted to let you know the, uh, doctor didn’t find anything else unusual about the body of poor Mr. Trevor.”
    â€œI didn’t think he would,” Clint said. “Seems like a pretty straight forward murder.”
    â€œYes, it does. Have you seen Mr. Flood?”
    â€œNot for a couple of hours. Why?”
    â€œI wanted to see what he wanted done about a funeral,” the lawman said.
    â€œI don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Clint said. “Trevor didn’t have any family or friends in town.”
    â€œBut he had men who worked for him, right?”
    â€œI don’t think they’d be coming into town for a funeral.”
    â€œProbably not. Well, then, there’s still the matter of a coffin, and a grave . . .”
    Clint took out some money and pushed it into the sheriff’s hands.
    â€œWould you see that the undertaker gets that?” he asked. “I think it should take care of everything.”
    The sheriff didn’t look at the money in his hands.
    â€œI’m sure it will,” he said. “Thank you. Will you be, uh, leaving town?”
    â€œFirst thing in the morning, Sheriff,” Clint said. “You won’t have to worry about me being in town after today.”
    â€œWell,” the man said, “it’s not that I was worried so much as . . . you know, concerned.”
    â€œI understand. Well, good-bye, Sheriff.”
    â€œGood-bye,” the lawman said, then