Free The Gunsmith 387 by J. R. Roberts

“I hope I have been of some use to you.”
    Clint turned to leave, then turned back.
    â€œAnother couple of questions, Pablo.”
    â€œSeñor?”
    â€œIs the sheriff related to anyone else in town?”
    â€œHis sister, Carmen, works at Rosa’s.”
    â€œWhat about Rosa?”
    â€œOh, no, señor,” Pablo said, laughing. “She is much too ugly to be related to anyone.”
    â€œAnyone else?”
    Pablo thought a moment, then said, “No, señor. Their parents died many years ago.”
    â€œWhat do you know about Ernesto Paz?”
    A very serious look came over Pablo’s face.
    â€œOh, señor, he is a very powerful man,” the hostler said. “And very friendly with the sheriff. You must be very careful of him.”
    â€œAnd Paz?” Clint asked. “Is he close to anyone else?”
    â€œNo,” Pablo said. “Oh, he has a woman in town, but she is just . . . his woman.”
    â€œAnd where would I find her—if I was looking?”
    â€œShe has a large house at the end of town, señor,” Pablo said, “with many . . . girls in it. Do you understand?”
    â€œI think I understand,” Clint said. “Gracias, Pablo.”
    â€œ
Por nada
, señor.”

TWENTY-THREE
    Clint decided to give Eclipse the treat he’d promised and took him for a ride on the beach. That meant he’d be riding him past Avery Castle’s house.
    He had not meant to be such a frequent visitor to his friend’s house, but it really was a beautiful place to live, and Avery had such an air of happiness about him that he was a pleasure to be around, as was his wife, Lita.
    This time, however, his intention was only to ride by, perhaps wave to Avery if he was out on his deck. However, after he turned Eclipse and rode back again, Avery was on the beach waiting for him.
    â€œCome up for a drink,” he said as Clint reined in. “That beautiful horse will be safe down here.”
    Clint nodded, dismounted, didn’t bother to tie Eclipse off. The big gelding would not be going anywhere.
    He followed Avery up to his deck, where his friend left him seated at the table, went into the house, came out with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
    â€œI don’t drink much anymore,” Avery said, “but Lita allows me to have a glass with a guest.”
    â€œAh, so this was a selfish invitation,” Clint said, accepting a glass.
    â€œTotally.”
    Avery sat down and sipped his whiskey.
    â€œWell,” Clint said, “maybe not totally.”
    â€œWhat’s on your mind?”
    â€œI’ve been checking into Sheriff Vazquez.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œWhat I’m finding out isn’t good,” Clint said. “He seems to be a competent lawman, but not a good man in general.”
    â€œWho is?” Avery asked.
    â€œYou are.”
    Avery laughed. “You’re forgetting about my past.”
    â€œNo, I’m not,” Clint said. “I’m just leaving it where it belongs, in the past.”
    â€œThat’s not always easy to do.”
    â€œWell, we’re not discussing the past now,” Clint said, “we’re discussing the present. And from what I’ve heard, Vazquez has the town under his thumb. They fear him, and are so afraid they won’t even try to fire him.”
    â€œWho have you been talking to?”
    â€œSome locals,” Clint said. “A man who owns a café, the hostler . . . Carmen, the waitress.”
    â€œYour waitress?”
    Clint nodded, draining his glass. “Apparently, she is Vazquez’s sister.”
    â€œYou did not suspect this?” Avery asked.
    â€œI never knew her last name.”
    â€œAh.” Avery poured more whiskey into Clint’s glass, then refilled his own. “And why are you so interested in the sheriff?”
    â€œWell, for one thing, he’s interested in