Free Claudia Dain by A Kiss To Die For

Texas, aren't you?"
    "Sometimes," Jack answered, returning the look without blinking.
    "Now, Malcolm," Lane said, "Jack's been hunting this man longer than I have. The killings started in Texas, best we can figure. We're all working to find the man responsible for this."
    "You don't seem to be succeeding," Malcolm said, glancing across the floor to the bunk that supported Mary Hopkins.
    "Take me to her place so I can talk to her aunt," Jack said. "Maybe she'll have something to tell us. I've been chasing empty clues for months and need to talk to someone who can maybe give me a description."
    "It's not difficult to find," the doctor bit out, clearly wanting to avoid such close and extended proximity with Jack Skull. "East bank of Lyon Creek, just below West Branch."
    "I need someone who can introduce me to the aunt, someone she trusts, so that she'll talk."
    Carr found it hard to argue against that; no one would willingly talk to Jack Skull. They made plans to leave ten minutes later; the doc wanted to close his office and Jack wanted to get a drink.
    He went to the same saloon, the Mustang, and ordered a beer from the same man. He was still talkative.
    "Heard about the girl, of course."
    "Of course," Jack said before he took a long swallow of the brew.
    "Pretty thing, by all accounts, and hair as black as coal. Shame a poor girl like that had to end up dead out on the prairie."
    "Her name's Mary," Jack said, wiping his mouth with the back of his sun-browned hand. "Mary Hopkins."
    "Pretty name, too. Lots of Marys in these parts. Popular name, being from the Bible and all. My mother's name is Martha. Funny, when you think about it, Mary and Martha? You know the story, Martha always working at her house and Mary sitting around, idle. Just like my ma, never still, always sweeping or washing or ironing or canning or sewing, but never still. And now this Mary—"
    "Yeah." Jack cut him off. Mary Hopkins was about as still as a woman could be. "You know Mary Hopkins?"
    "Nah," the bartender said easily, "don't leave town much and she's not from around here."
    "How do you know?"
    "Bob Walton mentioned it, after he brushed coattails with Doc Carr. Heard she's from Lyon Creek way."
    If there was one thing Jack had figured out, it was that there were no secrets in Abilene.
    "You ever been down there?" Jack asked. Anyone could have done it, especially a man with a mother who was so busy tending to her house that she'd have little time left to pour on her son.
    "If you're going to accuse me, you might as well know my name. It's Shaughn O'Shaughnessy and no, I've never been to Lyon Creek. Never been to much of anywhere. Too busy running the bar."
    He didn't seem offended by the unspoken accusation. Jack smiled and took another long swallow. A man couldn't afford to be touchy when he owned a saloon; he'd have to learn to get along with all kinds.
    "As long as we're exchanging names, mine's Jack. Scullard."
    It may have been the first time Jack had told Shaughn something he didn't already know.
    "Scullard?"
    "Yeah. Pass that around, if you've a mind."
    "Jack Scullard. Seems familiar," Shaughn mused.
    "Glad to hear it," Jack said, letting himself smile a bit. Maybe he was making a bit of progress in this town.
    "What part of Texas claims you again?"
    Jack finished off his beer before answering, "The big part."
    O'Shaughnessy licked the edges of his drooping mustache and pondered, quiet for a time. The saloon was quiet; even the old man in the corner had stopped mumbling in his sleep. The first flies of the season buzzed with angry spring energy through the dark room, searching for a place to light.
    The Mustang was not a large saloon, the floors were wide plank, the walls sanded board planks, and the bar dark stained pine; the heavy woodiness of the place was relieved only by a beveled mirror behind the bar. It was a fine mirror, framed in gilt wood, carved and ornate, and over four feet long. Jack could see himself clearly in that mirror. He