Free Longarm 422 by Tabor Evans Page A

acting on behalf of Ira Collins more than Quapah County.
    â€œYou’re being cagey,” Anderson said. “That’s fine. You don’t have to tell me. But you do have to get rid of them. I’ll give you to the end of the week. And I’ll mention to this man I told you about that you might have some girls you want to sell.”
    â€œWhat if I don’t want to sell, Sheriff? What if I get stubborn and keep the girls anyway?”
    Anderson shrugged. “Then pretty soon you wouldn’t be able to find a supplier for your wet goods. Shipments to you might get lost in transit. You might have trouble hiring help to work your place. And your girls might be . . . shall we say . . . incapacitated.” The man gave Longarm a phony smile. “But it’s all up to you, Long. You do whatever you think best. I’m just trying to let you know the way things are here. Consider it a favor.”
    A favor, yes, Longarm thought. But for whom? For Collins more than likely. Certainly it did him no favor.
    â€œI understand, Sheriff. I wouldn’t want to do anything out of line here, me not knowin’ how things are.”
    Anderson nodded. “That’s the right attitude, Long. Keep that up and you and me will have no problems. Cross me, though, and you could find yourself behind bars.”
    â€œThanks for setting me straight, Sheriff. Are you sure you won’t have another before you go?”
    â€œNo, thanks. I’ve had plenty.” But the look he gave to the bottle on the bar said that he wanted it. Wanted it bad. The good sheriff, Longarm suspected, was a drunk who had pulled himself together for this little visit.
    The man touched the brim of his hat, then turned and left in a hurry. Off to find another drink, Longarm thought, and no harm done. He had done his duty for Collins. Now he was entitled to his reward.
    Â â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢Â 
    Longarm trailed him as far as the batwings and looked outside. Anderson was met at the end of the block by George Stepanek. The two spoke briefly, then walked together into the Red Lantern Saloon.
    Longarm went back to his own bar and put the glasses Anderson had used into the washtub, where they would be washed and dried before being returned to the shelves later.
    He hoped Robert got back before the noon crowd started showing up.

Chapter 31
    Longarm dropped the satchel containing the day’s receipts onto the floor beside Helen’s desk. He was using her safe to hold the earnings of the Star since he did not have a safe of his own. Buying one had seemed an unnecessary extravagance since he did not intend to be in business very long, just until he smoked out Helen’s problems for her.
    He slumped gratefully into an upholstered chair and accepted the glass of rye she poured for him.
    â€œThanks,” he said, taking a swallow of the excellent whiskey. He set the glass aside—being around liquor all day was beginning to take the edge off his enjoyment of it; very much more and he would be in danger of becoming a teetotaler—and reached for a cheroot.
    Helen waited until he had the cigar lighted, then said, “So how did it go with our esteemed sheriff today?”
    Longarm raised an eyebrow. “Jeez, woman, do you know everything that happens around here?”
    Helen laughed. “If I did, Custis, I wouldn’t have asked you for help. Actually, this morning was the time when the working girls in town are allowed to shop. They saw Anderson going into your place. Three of them told me about it. They thought something was up. Two of them suggested you might be secretly working for the other side.”
    â€œThey know what’s going on,” Longarm said.
    â€œNot really. I already told you, most of them are dumb as fence posts. But they can be sly, and most of them understand lies and betrayal well enough. God knows they’ve experienced enough of both before they ever come to