Wyoming Lawman

His friend flashed a grin. “That’s what you get for being new around here.”

“It’s been two months.”

“I’ve got seniority. That means I don’t have to deal with Jasper and you do.”

Matt swallowed the dregs of the coffee, then put down the cup. “As my mama used to say, there’s no time like the present.”

As he headed for the door, Dan called after him. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

With the sun in his eyes, Matt walked the four blocks to Jasper’s store. Merchants opened their doors and bid him good morning. Wagons rattled by and drivers nodded in greeting. In the time he’d been in Cheyenne, he’d made a point of getting to know people. They talked to him. They trusted him. To stop the rash of violence, he’d need those eyes and ears on every corner.

As he approached Jasper’s shop, Matt passed the display window where he saw wares from back east. Jasper changed the merchandise often, and today Matt saw women’s hats, lace gloves and hankies. No wonder Katy had stopped to browse. Matt went inside and sauntered down the aisle, taking in the assortment of whatnot. The clutter irritated him, but Sarah would have been enchanted by the pretty things.

“Good morning, Deputy.”

Matt turned to the counter where he saw Jasper. What the shopkeeper lacked in height, he made up for in fancy clothing. Today he was wearing a green-and-yellow plaid vest, a starched shirt and a fancy tie. A mustache hid his upper lip, and wire spectacles sat on his pointy nose. With his hair slicked behind his too-small ears, he reminded Matt of a rat. “Good morning, Jasper.”

“It’s about time you got here.”

“You’re my first call of the day.” Matt spoke amiably, but the sniping annoyed him. The clock had just struck nine. Jasper’s store had been open for three minutes. Annoyed or not, Matt resolved to be polite. “I hear you’ve got a complaint.”

“I do.”

“Tell me about it.”

“One of Fife’s girls came in here and touched things. She left marks on them.”

Matt kept his face blank. “What kind of marks?”

“Smudges.”

If the girl had done real damage, he could have asked her to pay for it—or paid for it for her—and been done with the entire mess. Instead he had to reason with Jasper about smudges. “Could you wipe them off?”

The man reared back. “I don’t think you understand.”

Matt hid a grimace. “Maybe not.”

“She besmirched my property!”

Matt had arrested a lot of people for a lot of crimes, but besmirching wasn’t on that list. Did he explain to Jasper that nothing had been damaged? Did he fib and tell him he’d speak with Katy? What Matt wanted to do—call Jasper a two-faced hypocrite—wouldn’t solve the problem. The man had a lot of nerve to accuse a cleaning girl of “besmirching” when he himself had visited prostitutes and possibly bribed Ben Hawks to cover it up. If Matt’s hunch was correct, Jasper had done other things, too. He’d been one of the riders who busted out the windows at the Silver Slipper.

Annoyed, Matt tapped the counter. “Let me see the brush set.”

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