Too late to stop Jackson storming off, Lola watched him go, relieved to see he was headed in the direction of the Sherriff's Office.<em>At least he's not trying to take matters into his own hands,</em>she thought to herself as she felt the tension drain from her body.  Not that there wasn't plenty to be tense about. Looking at the group of people huddled around the now lifeless body of Bill, she suspected that Silver City's troubles were just beginning.  But for now, at least, Jackson wasn't putting himself in harms way. And for that small blessing, she was eternally grateful.<br/><br/>Not sure if her presence would be welcomed or not, she made her way towards the mourners.  Although she'd never taken Bill to her bed, he had been a very good customer, and Lola had been fond of the big man.  His hulking size and tendency to move slowly and deliberately had given some credence to the belief that he was a little on the slow side.  Nothing could have been further from the truth, though, and the fact that Bill hadn't been able to see a way out of his predicament worried Lola no end.<br/><br/>Noticing that the group gathered around the pathetic sight of Bill's wife keening over his corpse were all men, Lola's heart went out to the woman.  "Esther," she said softly as she hunched down beside the still wailing widow, slipping a comforting arm around the woman's shoulders.  "I'm so sorry.  Bill was a good man.  If there's anything I can do...."<br/><br/>It wasn't that she expected Esther to take her up on the offer, although if she had, Lola would have been more than willing to help in any way she could.  But the venom in the grieving woman's eyes was so obvious, so intense, that it took Lola by complete surprise.<br/><br/>"Get away from me, you....you....whore," Esther screamed at Lola, pushing her away so hard that the pretty brunette found herself sprawled on her back in the dirt.  "If it hadn't been for you and the rest of your whores, Bill would have been at home tonight, where he belonged!" Her voice had reached fever pitch, and although Lola's instinct was to defend herself and her girls, she feared the consequences of enraging the woman further, and so stayed languishing in the dirt at Esther's feet.  "If he'd been at home, he'd still be alive.  YOU killed him!  You and your ruttin' whorehouse!!"<br/><br/>Well, that was one step too far.  Trixie's was a whorehouse.  Lola's was a saloon.<br/><br/>"Now Esther," came the deep voice of Harry, who'd been watching from the front porch of Lola's. He strode over and hoisted Lola out of the dirt, placing her gently back on her feet. "That's hardly fair, and you know it.  Lola is no more responsible for Bill's death than I am.  It's just the grief talkin'.  How 'bout I escort you home, and make sure you get there safe 'n sound, hummm?"  Harry flashed Lola a reassuring smile, then wrapped a protective arm around the waist of Esther Carter, widow.  She dissolved once again into tears, collapsing into Harry's broad chest as he led her away from the grisly scene.<br/><br/>With Esther's last words still ringing in her ears, Lola watched them go, relieved that someone had taken the initiative and done<em>something</em>.  She made a mental note to buy Harry a drink or five the next time he was in Lola's.  If he hadn't stepped in when he did, she didn't know what would have happened.  She'd seen red at the insult to her establishment, and would have likely reacted without thinking, which would have just made matters ten times worse than they already were.  Confident that the men would handle the removal of Bill's body with dignity, Lola was about to head back inside when a shot, followed by an accusing voice, rang out from down the street.<br/><br/><strong><em>"WEST!  WEST!  WEST JUST SHOT THE SHERIFF!!  I SAW IT!  HE SHOT HIM DOWN LIKE A DOG!!"</em></strong><br/><br/>Lola turned towards the shouting just in time to see Jackson leap onto a horse and gallop off like he was being chased by the devil himself.  Icy fingers slipped around her heart and squeezed as the impact of what just happened hit her.  She knew that Jackson would never kill a lawman. Knew beyond a shadow of a doubt.  But if someone had killed the Sheriff and tried to frame Jackson for it, then that someone had just taken away Lola's only fighting chance of beating Desmond King and holding on to her saloon.  And worse than that, Jackson was likely now a wanted man.<br/><br/><em>Will this cursed night never end,</em>Lola wondered miserably as she hurried back to the relative safety of her saloon.  Even more worrying was the thought that things could, and probably would get much, much, worse.<br/><br/>