The two doors popped open further
up the hall. The ones on either side of Slade opened a crack and a face peeped
out. Slade bolted into the room and
across to Ellen’s bedroom door. In the
dim light Slade could see a man lying across Ellen’s body. He leapt across to the bed and yanked the man
off Ellen dropping him to the floor..
There was a pool of blood soaking
across the blanket over Ellen. Her hand
gripped the shotgun as she continued screaming.
She was pulling herself up toward the top of the bed and trying to get
out from under the covers. Slade stepped
over the dead man and picked Ellen up, pulling her out from under the blankets
and into his arms. He took her into the
sitting room where he met the night clerk and a couple patrons coming through
the shattered door. He put Ellen on the
sofa and gently took the gun from her hand ignoring the blood on her nightdress
and spreading across his own shirt.
“You had better go wake your
manager,” he said to the clerk. “This is
more than you want to handle. And wake a
maid. I’m going to need her.”
Ellen had stopped screaming but
she continued to cry. Slade sat down
beside her and wiped the hair back from her wet face.
“Shh, Shh, Shh. Ellie.
Everything is all right now.” He
stroked her back and pressed the wild hair into a bit of order. “I’m here and I won’t go away. Shh, shh, shh. He’s gone. He won’t hurt you again.”
The hotel manager rushed through
the door. He stopped suddenly and looked
at the splintered door and then hurried to the sofa.
“What is happening?” He
demanded. “What happened?”
“What happened!?” Slade
repeated. “You have a dead man on the
floor by Mrs. Aguilar’s bed. That’s what
happened! Someone broke into her room
and tried to kill her!”
The hotel manager rushed to the
bedroom door and seized a lamp to hold high.
There was blood on the bed and a dead man on the floor with more blood
soaking the little rug and flowing across the tile. A long wicked-looking knife lay on the covers
of the bed.
“Jenkins!” he called to the
clerk. “You’ll going to have to go get
the sheriff; there’s a body in here.”
Ellen had calmed down and now lay
limply back against the sofa. Tears
seeped slowly from her eyes and the front of her gown had been stained by the
torrent of blood. Slade checked her
carefully. None of the blood was hers.
He continued to wipe her hair back but when he stood to get a wet cloth
she held his shirt and would not let him leave her side. He motioned the maid who had finally appeared
in a dress hastily thrown on.
“Get a wet cloth from the basin
and let me wipe her face.” He demanded.
The maid hurried to comply.
When Slade had the cloth he sent
the maid to the other bedroom to build a fire and make up the bed.
“We need to get her moved and
into a clean nightdress.” He stayed
beside her while people came and went through the suite.
Suddenly there was a large, loud
man strutting into the room. “Deputy Sam
Mackey,” he said by way of self-introduction. “What is going on here? What’s this I hear about a shooting?”
Slade motioned him toward the
bedroom which was now lit by several lamps.
Within in seconds his harsh voice came back from the bedroom. “My God!
Who shot this man!”
The deputy came back into the
room and stood in front of Ellen. “What
do you mean shooting patrons in their beds?” He demanded of Ellen. “Woman, you have no business in this
room!” He accused her.
“What!” Slade jumped between Ellen and the
deputy. “She was attacked, not the
man! Are you a fool?”
“Now see here,” the deputy
blustered. “This woman has shot Senor
Aguilar. She can’t go around shooting
citizens!”
“Man, you are truly blind! Can’t you see ‘this woman’ is in her night
clothes? She was in bed and that man
broke in on her!”
“Broke in? That’s Senor Jose Aguilar! I don’t know who this woman is but she had no
business in here.”
Slade threw down the cloth he had
been wiping Ellen’s face with; he grabbed the deputy by the arm and propelled
him toward the door.
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