Read Online Longarm 245: Longarm and the Vanishing Virgin by Tabor Evans - Free Book Online
Authors: Tabor Evans
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attempt on his life. Longarm was sure of it.
The conductor seemed to have bought the line of bull Longarm had handed him, however. âIn that case, I reckon youâre lucky you werenât hurt, Marshal. But why did the young lady run off, and where did she go?â
Longarm could only shake his head. âI donât know.â
âWell, Iâll have a word with the town marshal while weâre stopped here and tell him to be watching for her. We canât wait until she comes to her senses. That would throw us off schedule.â
âWouldnât want that,â Longarm said sincerely.
And thank goodness for the almighty schedule of the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe, he added to himself. When the train pulled out again in a few minutes, the mysterious and murderous Emily Toplin wouldnât be on it, so that would be one less threat Longarm would have to worry about tonight.
He pulled the knife out of the seat back and gave it to the conductor, then sat down and pulled his coat around so that he could look at the hole torn in it. He sighed. The past couple of days had been hard on his coats, that was for damned sure. He didnât have an extra one with him, so heâd just have to wear this one with a rip in it.
Longarm took out a cheroot, lit it, sat back, and frowned. The other passengers had all returned to their seats, but some of them were still casting hostile, suspicious glances in his direction. The pain in his balls had faded to a dull ache, but he figured it would be with him for a few days. He sure as hell wouldnât be up to any tomcatting around ... not that heâd have time for such activities anyway.
Three attempts on his life in twenty-four hours. That was a lot, even for him. The two by the bearded man called Ross could be explained away by Rossâs connection with Badger Bob McGurk. But what was he to make of Emily Toplin? Longarm didnât believe she had roused from the depths of a nightmare and, thinking it was real, struck out at the handiest target. No, she had known exactly what she was doing, he decided. She had wanted him dead, no two ways about it.
But why?
He sighed and chewed on the cheroot, knowing that he was facing another night of unanswered questions and long-delayed slumber.
Chapter 7
The sun had been up for about an hour when the train came through the pass in the mountains that marked the border between Colorado and New Mexico Territory and slid down the long grade into the town of Raton. The settlement was, by and large, a cattle town, serving the vast ranches here in the northeast comer of the territory. Longarm had visited Raton many times before, and when he swung down from the train car, his long-legged strides carried him through the depot and down the street toward the local office of the Richter, Gramlich & Burke Stagecoach Company.
He stepped from the boardwalk into the frame building and saw a tall man with a rust-colored beard standing behind a counter. âYou the ticket agent?â asked Longarm.
âIâm Burke,â replied the man, who wore a leather vest and a string tie. âWhat can I do for you?â
Longarm frowned slightly. âYou run this station yourself?â
âWhen I have to. And for the past week, my regular manâs been down with a fever. You need to buy a ticket, mister?â Burkeâs attitude was brisk and all business, as befitted a co-owner of the stage line.
âThe first thing I need is some information.â Longarm took both his identification and the photograph of Nora Canady from inside his coat. He flipped open the leather folder so that Burke could see the badge, then laid the picture of Nora on the counter. âEver seen her before?â
Burke looked at the photograph, lines of puzzlement appearing on his forehead. They cleared up almost immediately as he said, âSure, I remember this woman, Marshal. She came through here sometime in the past couple of days,
The conductor seemed to have bought the line of bull Longarm had handed him, however. âIn that case, I reckon youâre lucky you werenât hurt, Marshal. But why did the young lady run off, and where did she go?â
Longarm could only shake his head. âI donât know.â
âWell, Iâll have a word with the town marshal while weâre stopped here and tell him to be watching for her. We canât wait until she comes to her senses. That would throw us off schedule.â
âWouldnât want that,â Longarm said sincerely.
And thank goodness for the almighty schedule of the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe, he added to himself. When the train pulled out again in a few minutes, the mysterious and murderous Emily Toplin wouldnât be on it, so that would be one less threat Longarm would have to worry about tonight.
He pulled the knife out of the seat back and gave it to the conductor, then sat down and pulled his coat around so that he could look at the hole torn in it. He sighed. The past couple of days had been hard on his coats, that was for damned sure. He didnât have an extra one with him, so heâd just have to wear this one with a rip in it.
Longarm took out a cheroot, lit it, sat back, and frowned. The other passengers had all returned to their seats, but some of them were still casting hostile, suspicious glances in his direction. The pain in his balls had faded to a dull ache, but he figured it would be with him for a few days. He sure as hell wouldnât be up to any tomcatting around ... not that heâd have time for such activities anyway.
Three attempts on his life in twenty-four hours. That was a lot, even for him. The two by the bearded man called Ross could be explained away by Rossâs connection with Badger Bob McGurk. But what was he to make of Emily Toplin? Longarm didnât believe she had roused from the depths of a nightmare and, thinking it was real, struck out at the handiest target. No, she had known exactly what she was doing, he decided. She had wanted him dead, no two ways about it.
But why?
He sighed and chewed on the cheroot, knowing that he was facing another night of unanswered questions and long-delayed slumber.
Chapter 7
The sun had been up for about an hour when the train came through the pass in the mountains that marked the border between Colorado and New Mexico Territory and slid down the long grade into the town of Raton. The settlement was, by and large, a cattle town, serving the vast ranches here in the northeast comer of the territory. Longarm had visited Raton many times before, and when he swung down from the train car, his long-legged strides carried him through the depot and down the street toward the local office of the Richter, Gramlich & Burke Stagecoach Company.
He stepped from the boardwalk into the frame building and saw a tall man with a rust-colored beard standing behind a counter. âYou the ticket agent?â asked Longarm.
âIâm Burke,â replied the man, who wore a leather vest and a string tie. âWhat can I do for you?â
Longarm frowned slightly. âYou run this station yourself?â
âWhen I have to. And for the past week, my regular manâs been down with a fever. You need to buy a ticket, mister?â Burkeâs attitude was brisk and all business, as befitted a co-owner of the stage line.
âThe first thing I need is some information.â Longarm took both his identification and the photograph of Nora Canady from inside his coat. He flipped open the leather folder so that Burke could see the badge, then laid the picture of Nora on the counter. âEver seen her before?â
Burke looked at the photograph, lines of puzzlement appearing on his forehead. They cleared up almost immediately as he said, âSure, I remember this woman, Marshal. She came through here sometime in the past couple of days,
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