The Lady Doctor's Alibi Read Online Free Page A

into his room. He also unwrapped the foot so he could rub it. The swelling had gone down, and he hoped it would stay down. He wanted to take a walk around Veracruz the next day, see what the town looked like, maybe even go down to the docks to see what boats were coming in, and from where.
    He walked slowly over to the window to look out. It was dark, and the streets were not very well lit. He could see shadows moving about, but not many of them. People in this area were probably smart enough to stay inside.
    He went back to the bed and reclined, keeping his gun close. The only benefit of having hurt his foot was that he’d met Lissa Sugarman. He hoped to see more of her in the next few days.
    A lot more.
     
    She had learned to keep some clothes in Rufus’s hotel room. He always tore her clothes off her. When she returned home, her husband never remembered what she had been wearing the last time he saw her.
    She was sore after a couple of hours with the big ugly man. Her ass was sore from being slapped and fucked, her vagina ached, and so did her mouth and jaw. His penis was so large she sometimes thought her jaw would come unhinged, but somehow she always managed to accommodate it.
    She knew she was an ugly woman, but he was an ugly man and they fit together. It excited him to brutalize a woman, and she reveled in being brutalized by him. It was something her husband would never understand.
    Oliver had respect, and he had money. That was all she wanted from him. And Rufus gave her what she wanted from him, and she gave him what he wanted from a woman. And after the sex was over, they were done with each other. She had two perfect relationships with two men—one whom she dominated and one who dominated her.
    In front of the hotel she got into her buggy. With any luck she’d get home before Oliver. If she didn’t . . . so what?

NINE
    When Clint woke the next day, he tested his ankle immediately and found it much better. Not perfect, and he knew if he spent the day on his feet, he’d pay for it by day’s end, but it was better.
    He got up, washed and dressed, strapped on his gun, and went downstairs to find some breakfast. The desk clerk that morning was someone he hadn’t seen before, so he approached.
    “Do you speak English?” he asked.
    “Sí, señor,” the man said, “I spik English berry good.”
    Well, Clint thought, good enough.
    “Where is a good place to get breakfast around here?” Clint asked.
    “Señor,” the clerk asked, “jou are not looking for a eh-gringo breakfast, are jou?”
    “No,” Clint said, “a Mexican breakfast is fine.”
    “Ah,” the man said, grinning and showing gold teeth. “Den jou go to my seester’s cantina, up the street.” The man pointed. “Is called Josephina’s.” He pronounced it Hosephina’s.
    “Josephina’s,” Clint repeated. “Thanks.”
    “De nada, señor. Please tell her that her hermano, Julio, sent you.”
    “I will.”
    Clint left the hotel, turned right, and walked up the street until he reached the cantina. He looked inside, saw about half of the dozen or so tables filled. But it was the aroma that drew him in and set his stomach to growling.
    “Sit anywhere, señor,” a black-haired woman called out.
    Clint chose a table as far from the door and windows as he could get. The Mexican couple at the next table nodded pleasantly to him, and he returned it. He saw a small bar against one wall, but no bartender. He figured this place used to be a cantina, but had since become a restaurant.
    “Excuse me?” he said once he was seated.
    “Señor?” the man at the next table replied.
    “Is the food good here?”
    “Is best in Veracruz, señor,” the man said eagerly.
    “And who is that woman?” he asked, indicating the black-haired woman who had spoken to him.
    “She is the owner, and the cook, señor,” the man said.
    “Gracias,” Clint said.
    “De nada, señor. Enjoy your breakfast.”
    He sat back and Josephina came over to his