Dead Man's Diamond

By Leah Leonard

Tombstone Sherriff John Behan discovers a dying man in the desert who has the largest diamond John’s ever seen. Just before the stranger breathes his last, he whispers the name of the most desirable woman in town, Val McRae.

What does Val have to do with the dead man’s diamond and can John get to her before trouble finds her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: eXtasy Books Inc
• Release date: Jan 16, 2011
• ISBN: 9781554875382

Book preview

Tombstone Sherriff John Behan discovers a dying man in the desert who has the largest diamond John's ever seen. Just before the stranger breathes his last, he whispers the name of the most desirable woman in town, Val McRae.

What does Val have to do with the dead man's diamond and can John get to her before trouble finds her?

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Dead Man's Diamond

Copyright © 2010 Leah Leonard

ISBN: 978-1-55487-538-2

Cover art by Martine Jardin

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by Devine Destinies

An imprint of eXtasy Books

Look for us online at:

www.devinedestinies.com

Smashwords Edition

Dead Man's Diamond

By

Leah Leonard

Dedication

To Dad, with love…

Chapter One

Somewhere outside Tombstone, Arizona – 1882

Where is she?

John Behan searched one side of the valley to the other. Rarely did any of his cattle stray beyond the barbed wire fences around the property. Heat waves rippled across the rocky landscape, making it hard to see much of anything besides the long arms of the saguaro cactuses, blooming yuccas and a few scattered dust clouds off in the distance.

John had work to do today. He couldn't waste any more time to find his prized bovine. A split second before turning his horse back toward town, he spotted a dark speck moving against the base of the mountain. He took off his hat, brushed a hand through his damp hair and wondered how in the world his cow could have walked that far from home.

Nudging his horse with his spur, he headed due east until it was clear the blight on the horizon was not his milk cow, but something else.

Whoa. John tied his horse to a yucca. You wait right here, gal.

The figure wasn't moving.

Didn't matter. He knew better. He cocked his pistol, crept closer. Gripping his gun in both hands, John inched toward the body of a man. He pointed the barrel at the stranger's temple.

Nothing.

It was doubtful he was still breathing, but John couldn't be too careful. He'd seen too many situations go from bad to worse through the years.

The man lay on his back, eyes closed, cracked lips caked with dried blood.

John nudged him with the tip of his boot. You awake?

The man croaked, Help.

John reached into his inner vest pocket and pulled out his sterling silver flask. Yep, you need some help for sure, mister. How about this? He leaned over, poured a few drops of whiskey into the stranger's mouth. The amber liquid trickled down his unshaven face to the parched ground. Upon closer inspection, John noticed the man's injuries hidden under his bloody hand. "Why don't you let me have a look at that, compadre? He carefully pulled his knife from its sheath, cut open the stranger's shirt. Lord. John stared at the gaping hole in the man's torso and the crimson pool under his back. Looks like someone snuck up on you from behind with one heck of a gun, mister. Buffalo rifle or bigger, I'd say."

The man moaned again.

Bushwhacked, were you? That what happened to you? You want to tell me who did this to you?

The man squinted at him.

Or don't you recall? John figured the stranger part of a posse of outlaws who turned against him, or else he got too dried up in the sun to speak. Either way, he needed answers.

Nothing.

John tipped the flask again, drained the last few precious drops of alcohol into the wound. Here you go. This might help.

The man grimaced.

Sorry about that. It's the only medicine I've got way out here.

Sweat poured off the man's brow. His eyes fully opened and he tried to lift his head. Blood trickled from both corners of his mouth and he fell back.

Stay still, stranger. I'm gonna look and see if I can't find the culprit. John scanned the area, half-hoping to discover the responsible party, half-hoping he wouldn't, when he spotted an old worn out leather saddle bag on the ground about a hundred feet away. Before leaving the man to his fate, he ran over, grabbed the bag, knelt on the ground, loosened the leather straps and dug through a few old tattered shirts and a couple papers.

Steven Brown.

He had a name, but no other relevant information. There was no telling whether Steven Brown was the man lying here or if Brown was already long gone. He found a small pistol and tucked it away in his inner vest pocket, checked the bottom of the bag for spare bullets, figuring he might need them.

What the…

A tough jagged edge caught his hand. John pulled his hand from the bag, wiped the blood off on his pant leg and reached in again, this