Free Anatomy of a Lawman by J. R. Roberts

shoot.”
    “And I’d like to see Commons and Wilkes shoot,” Buck said.
    “Wilkes usually likes to use his hands, or a knife,” Minnesota said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him fire a gun.”
    “That’s okay,” Clint said. “By the time the Graves gang gets here, he can learn.”
    Before any of them could say another word, the door to the office opened and Lucy Dennison came in.
    “Oh, Sheriff,” she said, “am I interrupting?”
    “Not at all, Mrs. Dennison,” Clint said. “Boys, I’ll see you later.”
    “Sure, Sheriff,” Minnesota said. “Come on, Buck, I’ll buy you a drink.”
    The two deputies left.

TWENTY-FIVE
    “What can I do for you, Mrs. Dennison?” Clint asked.
    “I thought we settled on you calling me Lucy?” she said.
    “Oh, right,” he said. “Lucy.”
    “I think you promised me some supper last time we talked, and I haven’t heard from you at all.”
    “Well, I’m, sorry, Lucy, but I have been a little busy. I’ve been meaning to come and see you.”
    “So I saved you the trouble,” she said. “I’ve come to see you.”
    “It’s a little early for supper,” he said, “but I can meet you later—”
    “No, no,” she said, “that’s not good enough. You’ll promise to come and see me, and then you’ll get busy again.”
    “Well, my job—”
    “You’re not doing anything right now, are you?” she asked.
    “Um, not at this exact moment, no . . .” he said.
    “So, there’s no time like the present.”
    “For supper?”
    “No,” she said. She walked to the door, pulled the shade down over the window, and then locked the door. “Not supper.” She turned to face him, her back to the door. She was wearing a skirt and a shirt, and she slowly unbuttoned the shirt and peeled it off. Underneath was a frilly black top.
    “Lucy—”
    “I think we should just skip the supper and get right to something else.”
    She undid her skirt and let it drop to the floor. Now all she was wearing was some black lace.
    “I knew we’d end up like this the moment you walked into the Town Council meeting,” she said. “I swore all the men in that room would be able to smell me, because I got so excited I became wet. But since they’re all dried-up politicians, they didn’t sense it. But you did, didn’t you?”
    “Well, uh—” He really hadn’t, but he sure was sensing it now, wasn’t he?
    “Come here, Sheriff Adams,” she said, crooking her finger at him. “Let’s get better acquainted.”
     
    Buck and Minnesota went to the Red Queen Saloon and ordered a couple of beers.
    “Who was the woman?” Minnesota asked.
    “Mrs. Dennison,” Buck said. “Her husband was on the Town Council until he died. Now she took his place.”
    “A woman on the Council?”
    “I know,” Buck said, “the men on the Council don’t like it, but they have to wait for her husband’s term to be over to get rid of her.”
    “Well, sure didn’t look like the sheriff wanted to get rid of her, did it?”
    “That lady?” Buck asked. “She’s a little old, ain’t she?”
    “Son,” Minnesota said, even though Buck was older, “ain’t you ever been with an older woman?”
    “Um, well, no . . .”
    “Well,” Minnesota said. “There ain’t nothin’ like bein’ with an experienced woman—that is, ’less you’re with a big woman.”
    “Big woman?”
    “Big teats, big hips,” Minnesota said dreamily. “Nothin’ like ’em. In fact, I think I’m gonna finish this beer and head over to Miss Jean’s.”
    “The whorehouse?”
    “Ain’t you ever been there?”
    “Um, no.”
    “Aw, come on, son,” Minnesota said. “Drink up and I’ll take you over there. We got nothin’ to do ’til supper anyway.”
    “Well . . . okay.”
    “Drink up,” Minnesota said, slapping Buck on the back. “You’re gonna love it!”
     
    “Lucy,” Clint said, “you’re a beautiful woman, but this isn’t the time or place—”
    “Don’t tell me that,” she said, staring