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meeting, too.”
    “Me, signore? But the consiglio, it is you and Mr. Curry and Mr. Anderson. I am not a member.”
    “You are today,” Chester said. “We have a decision to make that will affect everyone, so you might as well sit in.”
    “As you wish. You are the alcade,” Minimi said, but he did not sound particularly happy about the invitation. His wife said something in Italian and he replied and she cast a worried look at Chester.
    “What was that about, I wonder?”
    Adolphina shrugged. “Who can tell with foreigners? That’s the problem with our town. Too many foreigners.” She lumbered from under the overhang. “I will go freshen up and sweep the place out.”
    Chester grunted. The council meetings were held in their store. Originally, the town council met in the saloon, which proved convenient when their throats became dry from excess talking. But when Adolphina started attending, they had to switch to somewhere respectable.
    Sally Worth yawned. “Well, if all the excitement is over, I guess I will go back up and finish my nap.”
    “You can sleep with dead men below you?” Win asked.
    “Hell, I’ve slept with all kinds of men under me, and over me, too.” Sally grinned. “Smelly men, ugly men, stupid men, toothless men. Dead is an improvement.”
    “The things that come out of your mouth,” Chester said.
    Sally winked at him. “I never hear you object to the things that go into it. But then, you have cause not to, don’t you?”
    Chester glanced sharply at the retreating bulk of his wife, a red tinge creeping from his neckline to hishairline. “Keep your voice down. She might hear you.”
    “Not from there,” Sally said. “You worry too much.”
    “I don’t blame him,” Winifred said. “If that battle-ax ever finds out, she will take a knife to his manhood, strangle you with her bare hands, and probably shoot me for letting him dally with you.”
    “I do as I want,” Chester said curtly. “And I will thank you not to refer to my wife in that manner when I am standing right next to you.”
    “Men,” Sally said in mild disgust, and stepped to the batwings. “But don’t worry, Your Honor, sir. I am not about to give your secret away. You are one of the few paying customers I have left.”
    “Is that all I am to you? Money?”
    Sally twisted at the hips and regarded him with amusement. “What else would you be?”
    “A friend, at least. It has been a couple of years now.”
    “Every Wednesday evening for two years,” Sally said. “Your wife permits you one hour to drink and sling the bull with Win and you spend part of that hour giving me a poke.”
    “We do more. We talk.”
    Sally tiredly brushed a stray wisp of gray-brown hair from her eyes. “You talk, I listen. You pay for that privilege.” She looked at Winifred. “Explain to your friend how it is. I don’t want him getting silly notions.” She left them, her hips swinging.
    “You shouldn’t have said that to her,” Win criticized. “Now she will think you care for her more than she should be cared for.”
    “How can you say that? She’s your friend.”
    “She is my friend and she is a whore and I have the sense not to confuse the two. You should have the sense not to make more of her parting her legs for you than there is.”
    “That is harsh,” Chester said softly.
    “Life is harsh,” Winifred Curry replied. “If you think it isn’t, just ask the four bodies in my saloon.”
    “Adolphina could be on to something. We can benefit from their deaths.”
    “No good ever comes from killing,” Winifred said. “Mark my words. We will live to regret it.”

Chapter 5
    Jeeter Frost had a crick in his neck from looking over his shoulder. He did not expect anyone to be after him, but he had not lasted as long as he had by being careless. For the first hour he used his spurs more than was his wont. The gruella, as always, did not let him down.
    Jeeter was extremely fond of the mouse dun, so much so that once