Hunter
Hunter left the River Queen soon after the riverboat docked. Instead of his usual quick stroll up the street to the boarding house, he crossed the gangway and leaned against the rail. He lit a cheroot and nodded farewell to acquaintances while he waited for Sam Kline to exit the boat. Hunter had spotted the tall blond man when he boarded, but Sam had managed to avoid Hunter all night.
Hunter had met U.S. Marshal Samuel Kline nigh on ten years ago. They had a working relationship that bordered on friendship, until three years ago. Sam remained pleasant when they encountered each other at the boarding house or livery stable, but their friendship appeared to have ended.
He’s been like this since that Christmas in Beaumont.
The last time Sam had acted like himself, Hunter thought they would ride back from Texas with that little spitfire redhead Sam had been so taken with.
I wonder what happened to Nell?
Sam never spoke of her, and Hunter knew better than to ask.
Because of Sam's behavior since Beaumont, it surprised Hunter to see him with a female companion this evening. A beautiful young woman with auburn hair and dark blue eyes. Although she seemed familiar, Hunter felt positive he would remember such a beautiful woman. Curious, and happy for Sam, Hunter hoped they could resume their relationship. He hadn't realized how much Sam's friendship had meant to him, until it was gone.
Hunter stood away from the rail and crushed out his cheroot as Sam stepped from the riverboat exit to the gangway. The mystery woman held his arm, and Sam laughed as she whispered in his ear. They followed a large group past Hunter, and he stepped up beside Sam as the couple walked by.
“Bonsoir, mon ami. I hope you had a pleasant evening.” At six-foot-one, Hunter stood only an inch taller than Sam. When their gaze met, he could tell Sam's smile did not extend to his eyes.
“Good evening, Hunter. Another profitable night for you, I imagine?”
Hunter shrugged. “I consider it a good night when I break even. And you?”
“Down a bit, but overall, an enjoyable time.” Sam continued up the street, past the line of carriages, toward the boarding house. He shrugged out of his jacket and placed it around his companion's shoulders.
Hunter matched their slower pace and walked beside Sam.
We're all going the same way, after all.
He glanced at the woman on Sam's arm and found her studying him with curiosity. Unaccountably pleased the scar along his cheek faced away from the young woman, Hunter tipped his head and smiled.
She returned the nod then turned her attention to the street ahead.
Hunter had forgotten about the minister, and his job offer, until the man stepped out of the shadows near the porch beside the boarding house.
“The Lord has blessed me with patience, Mr. Hunter. I have waited here this long night. I've a bounty for you, if you would accept it. Evil has shown its face to the world, and the Lord hath shared with me a glorious purpose.”
Hunter and the couple beside him stopped and regarded the emaciated man.
His torn and filthy robe smelled of the swamp and unwashed flesh. He rolled his hands together, as though unable to hold them still. His hair, thin and oily, hung to his shoulders and exposed his dirty scalp.
Hunter exchanged a quick glance with Sam, then gave Tremble a nod. “Yes, of course, and we shall speak of your purpose, as soon as you permit my friends to pass.”
The man stepped to the side and allowed the couple to reach the boarding house entrance.
Hunter touched his hat to Sam and the woman on his arm. “Good night.”
“Good night.” The woman looked back and smiled as Sam held the door.
Sam narrowed his eyes at Hunter, tipped his head, and walked through the door. His failure to introduce the young woman appeared a deliberate omission on Sam's part.
C'est la vie!
Hunter stepped onto the porch and perched on the rail, one foot to the ground. He pulled a cheroot from his jacket and struck a match.
The minister watched Hunter light the small cigar and shook his head. “You're a Godless man, Mr. Hunter. God's will is cloaked in mystery, and not for one such as I to understand.”
“Nor I.” Hunter blew out smoke and watched it float beyond the porch. “So, Minister Tremble, wasn’t it? Tell me more about your intentions, and please be brief. As you say, it has been a long night.”
The man nodded. “She spoke a prophecy, about the ones born on the Witch’s Sabbath, under a full moon.” He stepped closer to Hunter. “I want you to hunt and kill them. They plan to call a demon to fight against my Lord.”
“Uh-huh.” Hunter eyed Tremble and blew another puff of smoke into the night. “Who is she?”
“She is a witch, gifted with sight and prophecy. A succubus of temptation, she is made for sin, and simmers with evil.” Passion raised his voice and moved the minister forward. He shifted from one foot to the other, and rubbed his hands together.
“Mon ami, you've been in the swamp far too long.” Hunter tapped the ash over the rail.
“I can pay half now, and half when the deed is done.” Minister Tremble reached into his robe and pulled out a roll of bills.
Hunter chuckled in disbelief and ran a hand over his face. “Minister Tremble, if I take your contract and kill for you, it would be murder. Do you understand?”
The minister nodded. “A most splendid sacrifice, in our Lord’s name.”
“Mon Dieu!” Hunter muttered. “If I don't take this contract, you will find someone else who will?” He clarified and crushed the tip of his cigar against the rail.
Minister Tremble nodded, bright eyed, and rubbing his hands. “The Lord's work must be done. He put you in my path when I needed a hunter; however, if you decline to fulfill his holy task, I shall be forced to recruit another such as yourself.”
“I see.” Hunter considered the man for a moment. “How much will you pay?”
“I have seventy-five dollar notes here. There will be another seventy-five for you when the evil ones have been slain.”
“I'll need two hundred fifty up front and the same when I'm done.”
“This is outrageous.” The minister exclaimed and stepped back, eyes bulging.
“You have asked me to murder someone for you. More than one, in fact. I don't negotiate. Take it or leave it.” Hunter stood from his half-seated stance by the rail and stepped around the man.
“I’ll pay your price. May the good Lord forgive your thievery.” Tremble hesitated and gnawed his lip. “I don't have all you require with me. I shall have to return to my home.”
Hunter crossed the porch. “Bring the money, the names of your witches, and their last known location. I can start in the morning.”
“I do not know their names, Mr. Hunter. Nor their location.” The minister shoved the notes back into his pocket.
Hunter turned and considered the small man again and scratched the back of his head. “You don't know who or where they are?”
“The prophecy did not provide those details.”
“What about your succubus of temptation? Does she have this information?”
“Surely not. She has perished by the will of our Lord and passed from this earth.”
Hunter stared at the minister, eyebrows raised. “You killed her?” He ran his hand through his hair and broke the tie that held it back.
“I did no such thing. She spoke the prophecy and expired. It’s how I know she spoke a true foretelling.” The minister nodded with self-righteous knowledge, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
“Uh-huh.” Hunter remained silent for several minutes while he considered the minister.
Swamp worms have eaten his brain. The man is insane.
Hunter would have walked away from the lunatic and his bounty except for two things. Lives were at stake—if they even existed—and this maniac would pay two hundred fifty dollars up front.
“Do you know where the body of your succubus is now?”
The man smiled and nodded. “She is at my home.”
“You have a dead body in your home?”
The lunatic nodded and grinned.
“Sacrebleu!” Hunter whispered and ran a hand over his face. “Perhaps you could take me to your house in the morning and pay the first fee. Oh, and one more thing; I will need to see the body of the woman.”
“Why would you need to see a corpse?” the minister snapped.
“If I must explain myself to you, mon ami, the fee will double.”
“I see, yes, I see.” Minister Tremble nodded and rolled his hands. “I will be here in the morning. I have a canoe we will use to reach my house. Once you have seen the woman and taken your money, I’ll return you here.” He paused, fidgeting with his hands, and considered the scar on Hunter's face. “Is that satisfactory?”
“Tout à fait. I’ll see you in the morning.” Hunter entered the boarding house and left the minister on the porch.
Whoever this madman wants dead must be warned.
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