Part 3
In town, Heero and Trowa had been commissioned to discover the identity of the 'black bandit' as he was dubbed. In the tavern, the sheriff and his deputy were discussing the case as they waited for dinner.
"So, any clues so far?" asked Trowa. He nodded to the waitress who placed a bowl of steaming beef stew in front of him and a fairly large hunk of bread.
"Nothing," replied Heero, taking a spoonful of stew and blowing on it to cool it. "Thanks Catherine," he said to the waitress. The red haired girl smiled and crinkled her nose, freckles dancing in a cute manner. She flounced off with a wink to Trowa.
"What was taken?" Trowa asked, tearing of a piece of bread dipping it into the stew.
"He wouldn't say. He just said that it was a private matter that had no importance in the case." Heero rolled his blue eyes that matched the long sleeved cotton shirt he wore, with his badge pinned to it neatly.
"Sounds like he's got something to hide. A man who had nothing to hide wouldn't act like that," said Trowa, sipping his cider, also brought by Catherine.
Heero snorted and had a now cooler spoonful of stew. "Not bad," he commented to the stew. "You sound like you've been talking to that idealist Winner again." And because that was the very thing Trowa had been doing earlier, Heero meant it as a joke.
A small vague smile appeared on Trowa's face. "Yeah..." he said, absently shredding a piece of bread.
Heero shook his head and snapped his fingers in front of Trowa's face. "Trowa, the case?" Trowa blinked and came back to himself.
"Yeah, the case. Well, after talking to Miss Schbeiker, she said that the guy was around our age, about your height. A real shorty," Trowa teased.
Heero made a face. "Shut up Barton. Anything else?"
"Yeah, she said his eyes were some colour. It can't be, she's read too many of those romance books." Trowa made a face identical to Heero's.
"What colour?" demanded Heero.
"Violet, according to her," said Trowa, taking another sip of his cider
"Odd," commented Heero and he took a long pull from his glass.
"Any idea on the horse?" asked Trowa after a moment.
"None. It's black, and as far as anyone could tell, naturally so. No markings, nothing unusual. Gear's pretty dirty."
"Meaning he lives on the outskirts," pointed out Trowa.
Heero pulled a face expressing ultimate distaste. "Great, dune hopping among the desert rats, just what we need."
"This happen before, d'you think?" asked Trowa.
"A couple of other strikes, mostly at residences. This is the most bold strike so far." Heero gave Trowa a look. "And I said to the pink horse, now that there's a fine tail... Trowa, over here please." Trowa snapped his eyes from the clock near the door back to Heero.
"Sorry, what did you say?" Heero sighed.
"What's so interesting about the clock?" Heero asked instead.
"Oh, it's just that Quatre invited me to play a duet with him at his home," said Trowa, the vague smile returning. Heero rolled his eyes.
"Go ahead. If I figure anything out, I'll let you know." Trowa smiled at him and stood. Heero shook his head in amusement. "You know, if Winner was a girl, I'd think you two were courting." Trowa gave him a look to freeze water and left.
Heero shrugged. He finished his stew and wiped down the bowl with the rest of Trowa's bread. Catherine came to take the dishes away. She looked vaguely disappointed that Trowa had left.
"Now where did Deputy Barton go Sheriff Yuy?" she asked.
"He had something to do Miss Bloom." She giggled.
"Well dang!" she said, bringing the dishes back to the kitchen. Heero smiled as the owner of the tavern, Miss Sally walked over to the table.
"Can I get you anything?" the older woman drawled. She half draped herself over Heero's shoulders, her two sandy blond braids dangling in Heero's face.
"One of your apple turnovers would be nice and some more cider, please," said Heero, looking up into the pair of dancing light blue eyes above him.
"One turnover, sure honey, but don't you want anything stronger?" she asked in a teasing tone.
"Can't drink on the job," said Heero. She laughed throatily.
"Sure you can't. I'll get that for you Sheriff," she said, removing herself from him. Heero smiled and looked around. The tavern was peaceful, buzzing with the normal amount of chatter.
The doors to the tavern opened, revealing a figure in a perfectly tailored grey suit. Icy blue eyes pierced the dim light and settled on Heero. The man strode forward and people moved to get out of his way. The platinum haired man stood in front of Heero, who appeared not to notice him.
"Yuy!" said Zechs in a commanding tone. Heero looked up at him and yawned slightly.
"Yeah Zechs?" Zechs' eyes narrowed dangerously.
"I want to talk to you about my sister," he said tightly.
"What about her?" Heero asked, stretching slowly.
"I want to know what your intentions are? You were walking with her and practically pushed her away from you. She is distraught."
"I don't know if you heard, but Dekim was robbed this evening. I needed to get to the thief and I didn't want her getting hurt." Heero shrugged.
"But you didn't catch him, did you?" Zechs said, voice silky smooth. Heero stood slowly, every inch of him conveying a dangerous grace.
"No, we didn't. I'm working on it," Heero said in a hard, halting tone. "And as for Relena, she's a nice girl."
"I don't think you are working as hard as you could be," said Zechs, a sly smile on his face. "I think you need incentive. How about this, you can't see or speak to my sister until that bandit's swinging, deal?"
"Your sister won't like that," pointed out Heero.
"Well, I'll explain it to her," snapped Zechs. His demeanour smoothed to elegance once again. "Is it a deal?" Heero smiled ferally.
"Mission accepted," he said, holding out his hand to shake. Zechs' mouth curled in distaste but reluctantly shook it, then immediately wiping it on his pants leg.
Zechs turned on heel and left, leaving silence in his wake. The patrons slowly began talking again, once again creating a friendly buzz to counterbalance the distinctly *un*friendly buzz in Heero's ears.
Well, at least I won't have to listen to Relena's constant chatter, he thought, then frowned at the thought. I shouldn't feel this way, thought Heero. I should be flattered that one of the richest ladies in town shows an interest in me, particularly with my history.
Sally brought Heero his turnover and cider without so much as a peep or a flirtatious gesture.
Heero continued to sit and frown as the tavern doors burst open. Heero was on his feet with gun drawn as the figure strode in, silver spurs clinking on the wooded floor.
"Who the Hell are you?" asked Heero, gun trained on the target. The man, fairly young, glared at him over the brim of his white hat. A coal black horse tail poked out from behind it. Obsidian eyes met cobalt blue ones, giving Heero the instant shivers. He wore black boots and white buckskin pants, a white vest and a black shirt underneath. A kerchief the colour of spilt blood adorned his neck.
"I am Wufei Chang, bounty hunter."
TBC...