Salvation in the Sheriff's Kiss(35)
“You waitin’ on someone?”
“Huh?” Hunter turned from the window and folded his arms across his chest, embarrassed at being caught. “No, why?”
Yucton shrugged. “Jus’ seem pretty interested in staring out into the street every few minutes. Figured you might be waitin’ on someone to arrive.”
“Well, I’m not,” he growled and purposely walked away from the window to the coffeepot sitting on the woodstove. The strong stench of burned coffee did nothing to improve his mood.
Yucton chuckled, the sound enough to send Hunter reaching for his hat. “Jenkins!” His deputy came running from the storeroom down the hall where he collected blankets for the cooler nights. “Watch the prisoner. I’m heading out to find Kincaid.” It was time he tracked down the wayward bounty hunter and questioned him about whoever paid the private bounty for Bill Yucton’s arrest and return to Salvation Falls.
Hunter made his way down to The Seahorse Saloon and found Kincaid sitting at a table by himself. He motioned to Franklyn behind the bar. “Coffee. And bring me some of Del’s baked beans.”
Kincaid glanced up briefly then returned his attention to the shot of whiskey in front of him. Given the bottle at his side was still mostly full, Hunter judged Kincaid as passably sober.
“Kincaid,” Hunter said, pulling out a chair. He didn’t wait for an invitation. The bounty hunter didn’t seem the type to seek out company.
“What do you want?” Sober, but not friendly.
Del appeared to his left and set the coffee and beans in front of him. “Thought I’d join you for lunch.”
“Don’t recall issuing an invite and don’t much care to share a meal with you.”
Hunter put a hand over his heart. “I’m wounded by your rejection.”
“Guess that explains the sour look on your face.”
“Maybe my mood would improve if you’d tell me what you know about who paid the bounty on Yucton.”
“Nothing to tell. The poster said to bring him to Salvation Falls—dead or alive. That’s what I did.”
“Given Yucton’s penchant for escape, why did you choose alive?”
Kincaid shot him a hard look. “I’m no hired killer if that’s what you’re askin’. If I’ve got to kill someone because it comes down to me or him, then so be it, but I ain’t doin’ it just because someone offers to up the ante. I’ve got some humanity left.”
The last bit was grumbled under his breath and Hunter wasn’t sure if it was meant for his benefit or Kincaid’s. He didn’t ask. That Kincaid wrestled with his own personal demons was obvious, but it was none of Hunter’s affair. He had enough to deal with. And near as he could tell, whatever humanity Kincaid might possess, he was doing his best to drown it in a bottle of cheap whiskey.
“You never wondered who it was offering the bounty?”
Kincaid downed his shot then poured another one. “None of my business. They don’t want to be known—fine by me. I got my money like I wanted and Yucton got brought in alive, just like he wanted.”
Hunter’s fork stopped partway to his mouth. He slowly lowered it back down to the bowl. “Yucton wanted to come in?”
Kincaid shrugged. “Didn’t put up a fight over it.”
“And you didn’t find that odd?”
“Didn’t much care. Said he was on his way back here anyway. Figured if I wanted to collect a bounty by assisting him in that regard, no harm done.” Except harm was done. Yucton was sitting in a jail cell and would likely hang.
“Did he say why he was heading this way?”
Kincaid pursed his lips and slid a glance in Hunter’s direction. He hesitated a moment and a strange tension slithered in the air between them. But before Hunter could ascertain its origin, the tension shifted and disappeared. “Said a friend had passed and he meant to pay his respects and take care of some business.”
One of the girls from the saloon plunked down in front of the piano and banged out a lively tune. Or it would have been lively if the damned instrument had been in tune. The sound grated on Hunter’s nerves. He needed to make a case to the town council to implement a law that outlawed such things.
“And he didn’t seem put out your taking him in meant he’d have to answer to charges of cattle rustling?”
Kincaid rolled the empty shot glass between his finger and thumb. “I didn’t ask.”
Hunter sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He was running in circles and getting nowhere fast. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more to this than meets the eye?”