Free The Town Council Meeting by J. R. Roberts Page B

don’t have any idea,” she said. “You probably thought I had a lover who did it, but I didn’t have a lover. Haven’t had a lover for a very . . . very long time. Don’t you think that’s a shame, Clint?”
    â€œYes,” he said, “I think it’s a terrible shame.”
    He noticed that, somehow, while she was pouring drinks, she had managed to undo her robe and open it, revealing a very nice pair of breasts encased in a silk nightgown. The slopes of her breasts, and her cleavage, were dotted with freckles.
    â€œBut you didn’t tell me, Barbara,” Clint said, aware that there was heat coming from her body, “who do you think killed your husband?”
    â€œWell,” she said, “I think the first person who should be suspected is . . . me. After me, I suppose Matt Holmes and Andy Rivers would seem likely.”
    â€œDid you know that Holmes and Rivers would sometimes work together against your husband?”
    â€œNo,” she said, “but I’m not surprised. Those two were here before Big Ed got here. And I suppose him coming here gave them a common enemy. So they stopped fighting with each other to fight against him?”
    â€œI suppose so.”
    â€œThey hid it well, then,” she said, “because everybody in town still thinks of those two as competitors.”
    â€œWell, maybe they only joined forces when it involved your husband.”
    â€œThat could be true,” she said, “but then why kill him?”
    â€œThat’s what I was thinking.”
    â€œWell then, I see your point, Mr. Adams,” she said. “I guess that just leaves me.”
    â€œI don’t think you killed him.”
    â€œWell, maybe I had him killed.”
    â€œBy who? You already told me you didn’t have any lovers.”
    â€œWhat if I hired it done?”
    â€œWould you know how?”
    â€œOh my, what’s to know?” she asked. “You find a man and you offer him money. If you offer him enough money, he’ll do it.”
    â€œYou think it’s that simple?”
    â€œWhen you have enough money,” she said. “What if I offered you, say, a thousand dollars to kill my husband? What would you say?”
    â€œI’d say let me see the money,” Clint answered. “Do you have that much money to spend, Barbara?”
    â€œNo,” she said, “but I’d have it after my husband was dead.”
    â€œAnd you think a man would kill your husband for an IOU that he can collect on after the job is done?” he asked.
    â€œWell,” she said, “I’m ashamed to say that I know for a fact that they won’t.”
    â€œYou mean you tried?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd you got no takers?”
    â€œNone,” she said.
    â€œAnd should I believe you?”
    â€œOh my,” she said, “after we’ve been so frank with one another, why would I lie about a thing like that? I tried to have my husband killed, no one would do it, but someone finally did.”
    â€œAnd has anyone come forward for the money?”
    She blinked.
    â€œOh, I see,” she said, “you think I just put the amount out there and asked for takers? No, no, I talked to several men directly. This was not a . . . what would you call it? An open offer.”
    â€œSo someone else killed your husband, for reasons having nothing to do with you?”
    â€œThat’s how I see it,” she said. “No lovers, no hired guns. Another drink?”

TWENTY-FOUR
    Arnie Coleman knew he was doing the right thing. He just wished he had somebody more reliable than Charlie Hicks. The kid was a crack shot with a rifle, but he was young. Coleman didn’t think he’d killed anyone before. He just hoped that wouldn’t stop him from taking the shot when he had it.
    Â 
    Charlie Hicks was scared.
    He knew what Arnie Coleman told him was true. Clint Adams deserved to die for killing Big