* * *
We didn’t get paid for the job of protecting Mr. Wilkins, since he was dead and we had not been hired to protect the stairs. Still, the sheriff admitted—under his breath but in front of witnesses—that I wasn’t as dumb as my reputation had led him to believe. That was pretty good. And we got hired to sit on Cherty for the next couple of days. After all, it was clear he needed close watching until he could be got to a real trial, judge and jury—and the appointment with the rope that would help him escape from this world.
* * * * *
Trail of the Lonesome Stickpin
After being drugged by a femme fatale, gunslinger Mick McKee has to figure out what happened real fast, before Casey shoots him. (First published in Futures Mysterious Antholog Summer 2004, and nominated by its publisher for an Edgar.)