Annie Gets Her Gunmen Read online

  Garrett laughed out loud. “The question is, will you still love me if I beat the both of you and garner a triple championship?”

  “I won’t,” Dane said.

  Garrett rolled his eyes. “I don’t care if you love me, just her.”

  “It’s been said before, among the three of us, but I’ll say it again. May the best shooter win this competition.”

  Annie rolled off of the bed, and Garrett followed.

  Once they’d bathed and redressed, the three of them sat on one side of the bed.

  “Where do you live, Annie?”

  “Colfax, Colorado. It’s a small town north of Denver.”

  Seated on the other side of Annie, Larsen perked up. “Colfax? That’s only two day’s ride from my ranch.”

  “And two days from Outpost in the other direction.”

  “So again, I’m right in between the two of you. Just where I love being.” She laughed, and the sultry sound of her voice warmed Garrett’s soul.

  * * * *

  “Okay, I’m gonna read the list of finalists now. If you hear your name called, move on up to the front. Let folks get a look at ya.” Anticipation was in the very air around Annabel the moment Cletus climbed the few stairs and stood on the recently constructed raised platform to announce the semi finalists.

  Her heart raced with expectation. She knew she was on the list. She had to be. All five of her speed shots hit dead center.

  A few feet away, Dane leaned one shoulder casually against the outer wall of the saloon. He noticed her gaze and winked. Her heart raced at his subtle gesture. She looked around discretely to ensure no one else noticed them staring at each other.

  The judge next to Cletus handed him a list. Cletus started reading names off the parchment. “Hank Smith, Martin James, Jeremiah Morgan…”

  Cletus read three more names, including his own, as Garrett strolled into view on his way through the crowd. He seemed to be looking for someone as his gaze searched among the throng of townsfolk listening to the list.

  “Annabel Wallace, Dane Larsen, Garrett Butler…” Annabel moved forward towards the platform where the finalists gathered. Dane lifted his torso from the wall he leaned against and walked up, too. Garrett strolled in the direction of the dais as he continued looking here and there through the crowd.

  “All righty then, the last name is Virgil Dunlop. If I didn’t call your name, better luck next year. If I did, come on up to the front. We’re gonna start the next round in just a few minutes.” Cletus made his way down the steps of the platform as Garrett positioned himself at the end of the line of shooters.

  Annabel looked around and only saw nine contestants. Glancing up and down the line she realized that Virgil was the only one not present.

  Cletus walked down the line and counted. When he got to the end he turned to the crowd. “Where’s Virgil?”

  A man from the spectators called out, “No one’s seen him today.”

  “That blame fool probably drank himself to sleep last night and is still sawing logs in his hotel room.” Cletus approached a man standing nearby and sent him to Virgil’s room.

  Beside her, Dane stuck his hand out. “Congratulations.”

  She took his hand and held on for longer than she should have. “And to you, as well.”

  Garrett left his place at the end of the line and approached them. “I was hoping to have a word with Virgil last night, but I never got a chance.”

  “Me either,” Dane remarked.

  A commotion broke out near the front of the hotel. A woman screamed, and the man Cletus sent to fetch Virgil came running out of the hotel like his pants were afire, shrieking, “He’s dead! Virgil’s dead!”

  Dane and Garrett exchanged worried glances, and Annabel felt the first stirrings of big trouble on the horizon.

  * * * *

  As a well-known sheriff from another state, Garrett was invited to the scene of the unpleasant death of Virgil Dunlop by Pine Haven’s Sheriff Barnes. On the floor next to the nightstand lay a bottle of whiskey on its side. Was that what had done him in? A poisoned drink? He didn’t see a shot glass anywhere. Perhaps Virgil had forgone the pleasantries and simply guzzled from the bottle.

  Dressed in the clothes he wore the day before, resting on the center of the bed with arms drawn up to his chest and hands shaped like claws, was the man Garrett had searched for endlessly the night before. Virgil’s eyes were still open, and his facial expression was one of agonizing surprise.

  Blood and vomit coated his chin and neck. The vile contents of his stomach had dripped onto the pillow beneath his head and the surrounding bed sheets. The pungent undertones of urine and shit also permeated the air.

  Garrett cleared his throat and started breathing through his mouth as the sour stench of a bad death surrounded him like a cloak in the small room. He was no expert, but with his skin the color of a cemetery stone, it looked like Virgil had been dead for awhile.

  “He’s been dead since probably right after the competition yesterday afternoon.” The local doc, still hunched over Virgil’s lifeless body, confirmed Garrett’s silent assertion.

  No wonder he and Larsen never found Virgil. He’d been long gone when they started their search the evening before. Garrett sighed inwardly as he remembered all the people he talked to all throughout the small town and how many times he’d asked about Virgil’s whereabouts during his search yesterday and the day before.

  Eventually, someone would remember his queries and cast suspicion his way. Garrett shoved his personal worries aside and asked, “Anyone hear anything or see anything? Any witnesses?”

  “Nope,” Sheriff Barnes replied. “You’d think given the way he suffered, someone mighta heard him thrashing around in here.”

  Garrett nodded but then added, “Unless it was late at night and everyone was asleep.”

  The doc sniffed the contents of the whiskey bottle. “He was likely poisoned given the severe vomiting, but I can’t smell anything in here. It’s possible he killed his self, but since I don’t see any container from the poison, I’ll assume that either someone did this to him or the poison was in the whiskey bottle.”

  “Let’s ask Cletus if he knows anything.”

  Garrett turned to the sheriff. “Why him?”

  “Virgil is from a town only a couple day’s ride from here, but he came to the contest every year for the last five or more years. Cletus is the one who knows him best as he runs the annual shooter’s contest.”

  Garrett nodded. He remembered seeing Cletus chatting with Virgil at the match yesterday right before the competition began. He just hoped Cletus hadn’t heard any gossip from Virgil. Barnes stuck his head out of the door and had someone fetch the contest coordinator.

  His hopes were dashed the moment Cletus entered the room. When he saw Garrett, his gaze went to the floor as if he was embarrassed.

  Shit. Had Virgil spilled the beans? Garrett looked over his shoulder at Virgil’s body. Perhaps he was merely squeamish about death and bodies.

  “Cletus, what do you know about Virgil? Does he have any enemies?”

  Cletus gave Garrett another once over but then sounded surprised when he finally spoke. “No. Not any enemies. Unless you count all those broken hearts he leaves behind.”

  “Broken hearts?” Barnes asked.

  Cletus crossed his arms and his eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline. “Oh yeah. Virgil usually had a different woman every night while he was here in town each year. Maybe one of them got jealous.”

  “Do you know of anyone specific who might want him dead? Anyone he was having a dust up with or anything?”

  Cletus glanced at Garrett first, then shook his head. “Can’t say as I do. Well, with the exception of the female shooter in our contest. Virgil was pretty mouthy, wanting her to be kept out. Maybe she finally took offense and did him in.”

  Garrett took a step towards him. “You think she did this?” He motioned to the bed beside him.

  Cletus glance
d at Virgil’s body and looked away quickly. His face turned almost green, and his eyes widened. “I didn’t say that, but she coulda had someone do it for her.”

  “She wouldn’t.”

  Sheriff Barnes scratched his chin. “How do you know, Butler?”

  Garrett turned back and realized he should calm down very quickly. He lowered his tone. “Because I know her. She wouldn’t do something like this.”

  The doc spoke up, “If it was poison, the perpetrator wouldn’t even have to be here. Probably his whiskey is spiked.”

  Cletus shrugged. “So it could still have been her. I mean, Virgil was quite the ladies’ man. There are some pretty colorful stories out there about how far he was willing to go to get a woman into his bed. Downright sinful in some ways.”

  Garrett’s first thought was that maybe Virgil had blackmailed more than one female into his bed.

  “Perhaps they had an affair, and she was angry that he had a new woman.” Cletus kept his eyes averted from the bed. He was obviously uncomfortable being here.

  Sheriff Barnes asked, “Who was this new woman?”

  Cletus turned red as a beet. “Well, I heard tell he was with one of the saloon girls the other night.”

  “Annabel and Virgil didn’t have an affair.” Garrett wanted that fact to be clear. “He harassed her repeatedly about being entered in the contest. She did her best to ignore him. That was the extent of their relationship.”

  Cletus huffed. “But the sheriff asked me if anyone was fightin’ with him and I answered. Even you have to agree she was scrapin’ with him since right before she entered the contest.”

  “No. I came after she was already in. I agreed she should be allowed to compete. Why are you trying to throw suspicion on Annabel?”

  “I’m just saying she had a beef with Virgil from the first.”

  Sheriff Barnes stepped between them which Garrett thought was a very good idea. “Cletus, do you have any reason to think Miss Wallace killed Virgil?”

  “Well, maybe. You see, Virgil told me he had a big secret about her.”

  Barnes leaned forward. “What was it?”

  Cletus shrugged, and an irate expression crossed his features. “He never got around to tellin’ me what it was. He wanted to wait and see if she made it to the finals in the contest, then he was going to tell me something to get her kicked out of the final round.”

  “What could he know that would get her kicked out?”

  Cletus threw his hands in the air. “How should I know? We aren’t at the finals yet.”

  “Are there any other suspects who might have wanted Virgil dead?” Garrett wanted to interject a new theory that didn’t involve Annabel.

  “Nope, but with him gone now, someone else moves up the list of semi-finals.”

  Everyone in the room turned to Cletus with varying expressions of distaste and distain.

  He shrugged. “Well, it’s true.”

  “But you only read the names half an hour ago. Virgil was already dead, and no one knew he was on the list.” Sheriff Barnes rested his hands on his hips.

  Garrett tilted his head to one side. “Except you. Did Virgil’s untimely death help bump you onto the list?”

  “Hey now, I was already on the list with Virgil. It’s someone else that’ll move up now, and no one but me and the other judges knew the names. The other judges aren’t even in the competition.”

  “That’s right. How is it that you get to be in the contest and also run it, Cletus? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

  Color raced into Cletus’ cheeks. “My daddy started this contest twelve years ago. He’s sponsored it each year since with the understanding that I get to run things. Anybody don’t like that, they don’t have to enter.”

  “Enough.” Sheriff Barnes sighed and looked at Garrett. “But he’s right. No one knew who was on the list.”

  “Can we continue with the contest now? I mean, I’m sorry about Virgil, but do we have to delay?” Cletus gestured to the crowd out the window of Virgil’s room. “We’re running behind schedule, and everyone’s waiting.”

  Garrett looked at Sheriff Barnes and shrugged.

  “I guess you can continue with the contest.”

  Garrett gave Cletus his sternest look when he turned to walk away. And he didn’t believe for a minute that Virgil hadn’t told him at least a hint about the secret he held.

  * * * *

  Annabel wiped a bead of perspiration making its way from her temple down to her cheek with her favorite handkerchief and quickly tucked it away before stepping up to the mark for her turn to shoot. In her arms she carried her favorite rifle. It was the one her father had lovingly crafted especially for her long ago. Standing on her mark, she closed one eye, sighted her rifle in on the target, put a finger on the trigger, pushed the air out of her lungs, and fired.

  Bull’s-eye.

  There was a smattering of applause as the runners went to get her target. This perfect shot should guarantee her placement in the final five for the last round of competition. She hadn’t had time to worry about being nervous during the contest. After the initial qualifying round, where she’d almost been eliminated, she’d put lots of effort in to pure focus on her task when it was her time to shoot. Her increased concentration had paid off.

  With only ten contestants left, the shooting rounds were completed much faster. Once all the shooters had finished, the five finalists would be announced, and the final round would commence after the lunch hour. Garrett was next up to shoot, and once again, he was the final shooter for this round. Conversation was subdued throughout the crowd, and lots of whispering and murmuring could be heard when each shooter readied to fire.

  The discovery of Virgil’s untimely demise delayed the contest this morning, but the shooting round hadn’t been cancelled. Annabel thought the murder might have put a damper on the festivities, but apparently Virgil hadn’t been very well liked among the townspeople, especially the female population.

  Annabel certainly hadn’t wanted Virgil dead, although it was not lost upon her that she had a good reason to be grateful he couldn’t threaten her any longer. She dearly hoped he hadn’t told anyone, especially Cletus, about her clandestine love affair with two men. It was no one’s business but her own, anyway. With a tinge of guilt, she rested a little easier knowing she wouldn’t be publicly embarrassed or have her lovers exposed.

  Garrett didn’t share any details about Virgil’s death, but from whispers in the contest’s waiting crowd, she overheard some horrific details regarding the agonized way his body looked and that he had suffered before his death. Vile blackmailer or not, no one including Virgil deserved to die suffering in agony.

  Annabel watched as Garrett took his mark on the shooting range and readied to fire. Muscles bunched along his shoulders as he sighted the target. Much like as his skill as a lover, he was careful, precise, sexy in his stance. Well, perhaps only she thought he was supremely attractive just standing there holding a gun at the ready to shoot.

  Garrett pulled the trigger, and the bang of the shot sent a ripple of desire down her spine. He was certainly not hard to watch. It looked like he hit the middle of the target, but she couldn’t see how centered his shot was. Thus far, it looked like she had the best score. A part of her didn’t believe she had come so far in this competition. Having the two men she’d fallen in love with support and encourage her during the shooting match only heightened her attachment to them. Her thoughts lingered on her future after the competition.

  She considered what a life with Garrett or Dane or both would be like, and the idea appealed to her more and more. She wasn’t tied to the town she lived in any longer. Not really. With her father gone, she had no family left. The town she lived in was very quiet and beautiful, but she truthfully hadn’t missed the place since being gone from there this trip.

  Beyond the bother of moving her lifelong possessions to a different location, she relished the idea of moving closer to Garrett. Dane had already tal
ked about finding a large parcel of land just outside of Outpost to start his own horse ranch separate from his brothers’ lucrative business. Garrett agreed to be his silent partner, and they invited her to join them.

  Why couldn’t she join them and start her life over? Merely watching Garrett added fuel to her desire. She deserved to be happy. Dane and Garrett made her very happy. After this contest, she would make plans to join them wherever they decided to go. Decision made as to her future, Annabel smiled and settled back to enjoy the rest of the shooting tournament.

  It didn’t take long for the judges to determine the finalists, and after only a few minutes, Cletus climbed the stairs on the platform to read the names. The ten shooters waiting to hear if they’d advanced into the finals stood at the front of the crowd.

  “I have to say it was a very close match this year, and there’s a surprise or two. I’ll read the names.” He lifted the paper in his fingers to eye level. “Hank Smith, Jeremiah Morgan, Garrett Butler, Dane Larsen, and Annabel Wallace are this year’s final five shooters.”

  Annabel was surprised Cletus hadn’t made the list of final shooters. He’d been doing well during the rounds. Likely that was the other surprise. The first of course being that for the first time in contest history, a woman was a finalist.

  Now, all she had left to do was win.

  * * * *

  Cletus lowered the paper with the five finalists’ names and fought the urge to rip it to shreds. This was the first year since he’d been associated with this contest that he hadn’t made the final five shooters. Number six on the list of ten, if only someone were to be taken out of the contest, he’d be back in. If that were to be even a remote consideration, it needed to happen soon.

  His best bet was Miss Wallace. Although, ousting Butler and Larsen out of competition had satisfying benefits, as well. How could he hope to accomplish his goal and keep someone out of the final round so he could step up?

  Stupid Virgil. He swore he’d take care of Butler and Larsen before they even got near the contest this year, but they’d showed up just in time. After last year’s defeat, Cletus wanted to do something himself but didn’t want any pall to fall over his prestigious position as contest coordinator. He liked the power.