Free Killer's Draw: The Circuit Rider by Dani Amore Page A

think?” Bird asked. She looked around the rear
of the alley. Across the way was a lumberyard and a barn. Both appeared to be locked
up for the night.
    She turned and saw Tower peering through a dusty window into
the dark interior of the office.
    “He did tell me to meet him here,” he said. “So, if we went
in, technically, we have an invitation. We wouldn’t really be breaking the law.”
    “Yeah, I’m sure Chesser would cut us a break,” she said.
    Tower shrugged.
    “Well, I’ve made myself welcome with a lot less of an
invitation than that,” Bird said. She pulled the door all the way open and went
inside.
    The room smelled of oil and metal. She found a lamp on the
desk nearest the door and lit it.
    A faint light was cast throughout the room, enough to see
that she and Mike Tower were the only people in the office.
    “Maybe you upset him somehow and he’s not going to show,”
Bird said to Tower. “You probably said something that was highly insensitive
and you offended him. You have a knack for doing that.”
    “Unlikely,” Tower said. “I think you’re confusing me with
you.”
    Bird continued walking through the office. There were four
large tables laid out with papers, rulers, pens, and razor blades. Bottles of
ink and stacks of books were scattered on every available surface.
    “Sure looks like a newspaper office,” Bird said. “Must not
be much news going on after dark.”
    “That’s when most of the news happens,” Tower said. “Maybe everyone’s
out covering the shadowy life of Big River.”
    “Maybe,” Bird said. “Or maybe they’re home having dinner.”
    Bird stopped and looked at a desk that was set farthest from
the door, away from all of the other tables. “What did this man say to you,
again?” Bird asked.
    “He said he knew why Egans was killed. But he didn’t want to
tell me right then because your pals back at the hotel were listening.”
    “What do you think—”
    They heard galloping hoofbeats come to a stop behind the
office. They walked out to find a young boy sitting astride a big bay horse. Both
the horse and the boy were out of breath.
    “I’m looking for Mr. Jeffire,” the boy said.
    “So are we,” Bird answered.
    “Is something wrong?” Tower asked. “Looks like you were
riding somewhere in a hurry.”
    “Hell yes something’s wrong!” the boy exclaimed.
    “What is it?” Bird asked.
    “I can only tell Mr. Jeffire,” the boy said, regaining his
composure. “He and I have an arrangement. I bring him what I hear, and if it’s
worth it, he pays me. This is going to be worth a lot.”
    “How much?” Bird asked. She pulled a wad of bills out of her
pocket, peeled off a few, and held them up for the boy to see.
    “That’ll do,” the boy said. He slid off the horse and
snatched the money from Bird’s hand.
    “They found Mrs. Parker,” he said. “She’s dead.”
    “Where?” Tower asked.
    “Killer’s Draw.”

Twenty-Eight
    Bird knew the way by heart at this point. So, despite the
dark of the night, only a few stars overhead and a half-moon shedding a thin
veil of light on the terrain, she was able to push the Appaloosa as fast as she
could.
    She couldn’t help but wonder if the boot print, or shoe
print, or whatever the hell kind of print it was, was that of the woman the boy
said had been found killed. Bird also wondered about her own tracks, and if
she’d left any sign of her stop at Killer’s Draw. It wouldn’t look good if they
could tie her to the same spot where a woman had been murdered, especially if
only a matter of hours separated them.
    Bird slowed her horse to a canter and covered the ground a
bit more carefully as the smooth plain gave way to more loose rocks. Soon they
saw the glow of a fire and some makeshift torches that produced enough light to
make visible the watery gash that was Killer’s Draw.
    They slowed their horses to a walk as they approached.
    Bird spotted Sheriff Chesser with a handful of men from