“Not one I like to think of. I’m a Marshal, that should do you. Who’s running this gig now? Meyer’s dead and you’re not the likes of one he’d have in his company.”

“Once I showed that bozo what I could do, he let me in.” Abby was just about fed up with having to prove her worth, to have to do it to another woman seemed like an insult to injury. “Some guy named Hawkins has got the reigns now. Real smart, doesn’t think with his stomach like Meyer.”

“Meyer has no use for women, even if they can best him,” the Marshal snarled, the blade pressing into Abby’s neck. “You’re only there because he’s not. That is, of course, unless you’re his personal doll. Someone had to have brought you in. Now I suggest you stop lying to me and tell me the truth.”

Abby laughed nervously, “those things kill people, you know.” She wasn’t exactly comfortable talking with a knife pressed against her vocal cords. “Fine, you’ve got me. I was his personal squeeze, happy now?”

"Yeah, and none of his girls know how to fight. Try again."

“Don’t suppose that telling you to mind your own business would go over well right now, would it?”

"No, because your business got in the way of mine. Now why are you here?"

She sighed, “washing up. If you absolutely need to know that. Why are you here?”

The Marshal rolled her eyes.
"Because I'm looking for someone and I'm not too happy with innocent people dying, courtesy of your imaginary lover."

“Stop the presses, this is about the girl, ain’t it? Woman, you’re preaching to the choir here. We ought to have an actual conversation about this, one where you aren’t about to kill me.”

"The girl, yes. And the sixty three people that your imaginary sweetheart killed. I'm not too keen on letting go when you've already shown you're willing to kill me."

“Would you chill with the sweetheart thing? It’s true, a friend of mine got me in. I’m not even working for Meyer, alright? I’m a bounty hunter. I got shafted too, Meyer was the big catch. I ain’t got skin in this game. There, now you know.”

The Marshal studied her for a moment, then sat back and let go, but did not sheath her knife.
“Interesting,” she said, considering. “Meyer’s dead. You don’t have much to take in other than him, unless I’m very unaware of someone that’s joined up with him. How’s Hawkins fairing?”

Abigail took advantage of the sudden lack of pressure on her windpipes to take a deep breath. “He is doing just fine, Better than Meyers ever did, really. Got the boy’s holed up in some glen way back in the rocks. My boss is with them, he’s been watching over that girl of yours.”

“By the tree that’s split?”