The Damned Walk Among Us

chapter Six

Kitty reached the saloon, the worn wooden doors creaking open under the weight of her determined push. The room fell into an immediate hush, as if time itself had paused. All eyes turned toward the mysterious woman framed in the doorway, a figure draped in an aura of quiet intensity. The air grew so still that the mere sound of a pin dropping could have shattered the silence. With measured steps, Kitty advanced, each footfall resonating with a quiet authority. Her presence was as ominous as the shadows dancing on the walls. The leather coat she wore swayed like a tail behind her, a silent proclamation of her arrival. Crossing the saloon with feline grace, she approached the bar, and the world seemed to hold its breath in anticipation of the enigma unfolding before them.

Leaning against the worn bar in the dimly lit saloon, she turned to address the scattered patrons. Her midback pressed against the wooden surface, both elbows comfortably bent as she carried the weight of anticipation. In the hushed atmosphere, she patiently waited for a few moments until the barman, wiping a glass with a rag, finally approached. With a casual yet inviting demeanour, he inquired if she required anything.

"Whiskey, if you don't mind," Kitty asked the barman. The barman retrieved a bottle of whiskey from beneath the bar and set it on the counter. As he reached for a glass, Kitty seized his arm, prompting him to pause and meet her gaze. "The bottle is fine," she informed him, placing some money on the counter simultaneously. The barman eyed the money, accepted it, and with a sly grin remarked, "That will be more than enough."

Kitty took a sip of whiskey, surveying the saloon. The patrons resumed their activities as if she hadn't entered. Turning to the barman, she inquired, "Any strange happenings lately?"

The barman, engrossed in wiping down the bar, finally glanced up at her. "I don't know your business here, but be careful. If you keep bothering my clients, I'll have to ask you to leave."

Unfazed, Kitty feigned innocence. "Remind me; I just came in for a drink. I don't know what you're implying."

The barman persisted, pointing to a corner table. "You were here the other night, talking to one of the Mccoy boys. I don't forget a face."

Shifting the conversation, Kitty asked, "Speaking of the Mccoy family, did you see their father? He might have been with a young woman."

The bartender awkwardly shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I spotted Mr. Mccoy. He came in, waited for a young woman, they stayed briefly, then left. I have no idea where they went."

Kitty's gaze intensified as she observed him, her eyes scanning for subtle nuances that might betray deceit. Proficient in reading people, it was second nature to her - a skill honed through her profession, where discerning inconsistencies and lies was paramount. "I think you're not telling me the whole truth," she asserted, her tone revealing a blend of suspicion and determination. "I believe you know what happened to them, or if not the details, at least the why." Her inquiry hung in the air, awaiting his response, as she continued to dissect his every move for the truth she sought.

He looked at her with a sheepish expression, acknowledging that there might be some truth in her words, yet determined not to reveal any agreement. "I have not the slightest idea what you're saying or suggesting, but I can tell you this." Leaning closer, his breath filled the air, causing her discomfort. She swallowed to suppress her queasiness. "If you try anything harsh, be warned; most of these men won't hesitate to aim their weapons at you." A slight grin played on his face. Kitty turned her head, sensing the men at the tables were more intrigued by her and the barman's situation than their own affairs.

The barman leaned over the bar and told kitty the truth about what he knew. "Well, Miss Kitty, Jonathan, and Sarah didn't leave on the best of terms. They had an argument with another customer, a local rancher named Thomas Hardy. It escalated quickly, and before anyone could intervene, harsh words turned into a heated confrontation, culminating in their unceremonious expulsion into the cold embrace of the snow. The saloon's atmosphere went from lively to tense in mere moments, leaving lingering whispers of the altercation echoing through the frosty night air."