Dead Again in Tombstone Page #4

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too far from the tree.

Although, you're a mite easier

on the eyes than your old man.

What do you want?

Mmm. Ah.

Eggs, please.

Sunny-side up.

Bacon.

Crispy.

Ah, now, Mr. Cravens, manners.

Jackson Boomer's out there

with his gang, wanting breakfast.

He knows.

Knows what?

He knows Guerrero's my father.

What'd he order?

Eggs, sunny-side up.

Let's give him what he ordered and then some.

Hmm?

What's that?

Cyanide.

Will it kill him?

Kills the rats.

He's a rat, right?

What about me?

She don't like you.

Have a seat.

Anything else?

Your company.

I have work to do.

I am your work, Alicia.

Now, please...

Sit.

What do you want with me?

I don't even know my father.

Shame on him for leaving

such a beautiful young thing

to fend for herself.

I'm doing okay.

You'd be doin' a lot better

if you worked down the street

for Madame Du Vere.

I like to do my work standing up.

Do you have any idea where your grandfather

might have hidden a bone box?

I've no clue.

Bull Dog.

You smell somethin'?

You're gonna love this.

We don't call him Bull Dog

on account of his pugilistic prowess.

Stale beer.

Sawdust.

Cheap perfume.

And whiskey breath on about

30 men on a refried bean diet.

And?

Somebody puked over in the corner.

It's about a week old.

Somebody scrubbed it,

but the odor lingers

a little bit too much for my taste.

Impressive, huh?

Yeah. Some parlor trick.

- Now, if you'll excuse me...

- Eh.

No, I will not excuse you.

Bull Dog.

Are these eggs fresh?

I wouldn't, boss.

Fresh eggs have a particular aroma.

Are these eggs fresh, Alicia?

Got yourself a sickness there, Mr. Boomer?

Diversion.

Nice tactic.

To answer your question, yes.

This little mixture of morphine and alcohol

helps me get through the day.

And I expect when this container

is empty and gone,

I shall be gone with it.

Hence, the urgency for finding

the location of the bone box.

And this will magically

heal all that ails you?

It will heal, yes.

Now...

Back to business.

Are these eggs fresh?

Fresh as a daisy.

Goddamn, Guerrero!

That is one hell of an entrance.

And might I say, your timing is impeccable.

Get the hell outta here, Alicia.

Not so fast, young lady.

Keep my family out of this.

She's in the tall cotton now, Guerrero.

And I have you to thank for

leadin' me to this sh*t-hole town

so rich in family history.

You know, the funny thing is,

your father stole this thing.

It's not yours to protect or to own.

My family and me got nothin' to do with it.

Red was spinning you a tale.

And if my father did steal something,

he took that secret to the grave with him.

Give me what I want, Guerrero,

or I will fill the next coffin with

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