The Mystery Danger Serials: Dead Man Running

Her Black Revolver

Her black revolver...

...was still fixed on the center of Jim's chest.

     Neither he, nor I knew what to expect next. The tension in the air was thick. We waited. It was her play. She held the gun. That also meant she held the cards.

     She eyeballed Jim warily. No doubt the way he had rushed up the stairs set her on edge. The hot headed fool should have known better.

     He did know better. I could see it written all over him. He took a deep breath and hung his head.

     Apparently, she could read too, because a smile had returned to those glowing lips.

     "Jim, dear, a pleasure to meet you." she said, lowering the gun just enough to seem less threatening. Had it not been for that black revolver boring a hole through the man, one might have mistaken the words for a greeting at a dinner party. "Be a darling now, and ease back down those stairs. I'll put this thing away, and we can talk like civilized folks." She nodded once in finality.

     Jim, keeping both eyes on the girl, slowly slid back down the stairs.

     "Good." She nodded again. The gun had vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Where was she keeping it? "Now, let's have a talk boys."

     She stepped through the trap door and gracefully descended the stairs. She walked with such authority. It wasn't until I glanced back up the stairs that I saw the reason for her confidence. She wasn't alone up there.

     In the opening of the trap door, I could clearly see two, maybe three other men. No, wait, one was a woman. Two men, and a women. The men looked different than the two I saw in the alley.

     So it was at least five guns, six if you counted Rose's, against our two. I didn't care for those odds at all.

     But maybe if we could grab the girl...

     As if in response to my thoughts, she turned back toward the trap door. "If either of them move, shoot this one first." She pointed at Jim nonchalantly. "I'll handle the other."

     "Yes ma'am." The gun at the top of the stairs pointed his barrel at Jim's heart.

     So much for that idea. Any trouble would surely spell the end for my partner. I couldn't let that happen. He was in this mess because of me. I had to get the focus off him. Draw the attention.

     "What do you want to talk about Rose? What's the big idea?" I sighed, being sure not to move a muscle in her direction.

     She laughed. "Straight to business? Nothing else to say to me?"

     "Oh sure. How about, thanks for leaving me tied to a chair in a room full of explosives." Sarcasm dripped from my words.

     Did she actually just wince?

     "Detective... Lincoln, I am truly sorry about that. I thought there was no other choice. I really am glad you survived." Her words sounded more genuine than any I had ever heard.

     "You sure have a funny way of showing it." Jim interrupted.

     She held up one hand to the gun at the top of the stairs. "No, it's all right. Jim is still a little flustered from all the excitement. Aren't you Jim?"

     Thank goodness. Dammit Jim, keep your mouth shut.

     I watched the girl glide over to the nearest stack of fertilizer bags. She scanned the pile of hundred dollar bills that littered the floor.

     "One of you is cleaning up this mess." She said dismissively, almost like a mother talking to her kids.

     Jim looked like he was about to say something, but thought better of it.

     I swallowed hard. How far was he willing to push his luck?

     She was now leaning on the stack of bags lighting a cigarette.

     "Alright detective, business it is. I have a job for you." She let out a thin line of smoke.

     "Sorry, I already have a job."

     "Perhaps you should hear me out." She continued.

     "No need. I told you in the warehouse. I won't work for you." I set my jaw. If this was how I went out, then so be it. Jim nodded in approval.

     "Oh, I think you'll change your mind." She said breezily.

     "Yeah? And why would I do that?"

     She took a step towards Jim, while sliding her a hand between the buttons of her blouse.

     "Because this time," she stared me coldly in the eyes, "it's his life instead of yours."

     She was right. It was no use. I'd have to listen to her.

     Jim had once again found himself at the business end of...

...her black revolver.