“Then you’ll take your men away?”
Salvaje nodded solemnly. “But wherever you are, we will be watching.” He turned abruptly and moved up the slope.
Bowen walked back to the adobe. Demery waited for him in the doorway. “He’s agreed,” Bowen told him.
“Just like that.” Demery held the door open.
Bowen paused. “You ever talk to a man who looks at you the way he does? He doesn’t understand it all, but if you tried to lie he’d know it. I don’t know how, but he would.” Bowen stepped inside and saw Falvey standing at the bar. “What did Willis say?”
Demery shook his head. “He won’t budge.”
“He heard Karla tell it. What’s the matter with him?”
“He says he doesn’t believe us. Says we’re trying to trick him into going against Renda.”
Bowen saw Karla come out of Manring’s room. Her eyes met his briefly, then looked away as she went into the kitchen. Bowen said quickly, “You’d think Willis’d want to go see for himself.”
“That would be admitting he believes us,” Demery said. “He doesn’t even want to think about it. But if he moved away from that bar he’d have to.”
“I don’t know,” Bowen said wearily. “Maybe I ought to just give myself up.”
“You do,” Demery told him, “and you’ll never get to Prescott. You know that. This is twice you’ve made a fool of him. Frank will either think up a way to kill you or else bury you under so many charges nobody could get you out…The way I see it, your only chance is to get Renda before the authorities.”
“If we just took him,” Bowen said, “what would happen?”
“Hand him over without proof? For the same reason I didn’t report some letters Frank destroyed. Letters that didn’t belong to him. It would be our word against his.” Demery said then, “We don’t even know if he’s coming.”
“He’ll come,” Bowen said.
“He’s taking his sweet time.”
“Word must have reached him about the break.”
“Then he won’t be alone.”
“His guards still have thirty men to watch. He’s coming on personal business.”
“If he comes.”
“He’ll come,” Bowen said again. “If he thinks there’s a letter here for Prescott, he’ll come, break or no break. This is more important to him than two men running away. That’s Salvaje’s worry.”
“He doesn’t know Willis is here,” Demery said. “Maybe we can make something out of that. Let’s think about it.”
Bowen nodded. “And the letter that’s supposed to be here.”
Demery nodded thoughtfully. He went to the roll-top desk, came back with an envelope and handed it to Bowen. “If you could hold a gun on Renda and tell him you’ve got the letter-”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know. It was just a thought.”
Bowen stuffed the envelope into his left pants pocket. “The holding the gun on him sounds all right…Well, we better be ready.” He walked to the bar, picked up the Colt Manring had dropped and pushed it into his waist. As he did, Falvey turned from the bar. “Where did you get that gun?”
Bowen looked up questioningly. “Earl had it.”
“I mean the one you used on him.”
“Oh-” Bowen hesitated. “I got it out of your wife’s saddlebag this morning.” He watched Falvey turn to the bar again. “Frank will be here soon. You better get hold of yourself.”
Falvey raised his glass. “I have no part in this.”
“You can wash your hands all you want,” Bowen said. “But if there’s a hearing, you’ll be dragged into it.”
“I’ll tell the authorities the same thing I’m telling you.”
“They’ll check your books,” Bowen said. “Any man who can count will see what you’ve been up to.”
Falvey came around as Bowen spoke. “What do you know about my books?”
“What I just said’s enough.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. My books are in order. There isn’t a man who can prove otherwise.”
“What about your wife?”
“Leave her out of it.”
“Don’t you want to see how she is?”
“If you think I believe that girl’s story, you’re out of your mind.”
“Karla wouldn’t lie.”
“Then call it something else.”
“I think you’re afraid to go to your wife. When you see what’s happened you’ll have to do something. But you don’t know what.”
“Are you concerned over her?”
“Anybody would be.”
Falvey turned from the bar. “The reason I ask is because she doesn’t own saddlebags.”
“What?”
“That you could have taken her revolver from.”
“All right,” Bowen said quietly. “I saw her one day in the stable and talked her into letting me have it.”
“That easily?”
“It sounds simpler when you tell it.”
“How would giving you a gun help her-did she say?”
Bowen shook his head. “Maybe she thought I’d use it on Renda. I don’t know.”
“Or on me,” Falvey said. He turned back to the bar.
“Mr. Falvey, you know better than that.”
“Get away from me!”
You must be easy to read, Bowen thought, remembering Salvaje but now thinking of Falvey. He walked to one of the front windows and leaned against the side frame as he looked out. No, not this time, he thought. This time you made a mistake and were caught at it and it didn’t matter what your face told. He’s not dumb. He knows what’s going on…but you have to feel sorry for him, don’t you?
How would you like to have a wife who wanted you killed? And you suspected it. If you didn’t suspect it, at least you wouldn’t put it past her. So why should he be concerned about her? You say that doesn’t happen to people, but you wake up one morning and it’s happening to you. No wonder he drinks. He’s got a lot to drink about.
He began to think of Karla then-the look on her face as she came in and saw him in the room, almost going to him, but remembering and realizing he shouldn’t be there and holding herself back. Was that it? Her father explained about the escape, but Karla didn’t look at Bowen as he did, nor after, when she told about Renda and Lizann.
At first, Bowen believed she was angry-just as her father had been, because he had escaped instead of waited. Then he realized that hers was not anger at all, but indifference. At least a posed indifference. And finally he understood-remembering the look on her face the morning she came into Lizann Falvey’s quarters and found him there. She had seen the gun, and she had seen Lizann’s hands on his shoulders.
He felt someone behind him and as he turned, Karla said, “Would you like coffee?”
“Fine…I was just thinking about you.”
“I’ll bring you a cup.” She started to turn away.
“Karla-” His hand touched her arm, but came away as she looked up at him again. “We never have much time to talk, do we?”
“I guess not.”
“We ought to have about a week with nothing else to do but talk, to get caught up with each other.” He paused. “Karla…I’m grateful for what you’ve done. I’ve thought about it and thought about it, but I don’t know how to say it.”
“Is that why you escaped, to come thank us?”
Bowen frowned. “I tried to explain that to your father.” He spoke earnestly, keeping his voice low. “You can feel you’ve done right, but when you explain it, it doesn’t sound like good sense.”
Karla’s eyes raised to his. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You had no reason to believe a new trial would come through.”
“I was hopeful. But then this chance came along.”
“If only I could have gotten to you before-”
“Well, it’s done now.”
“The morning you were with Lizann”-Karla’s eyes moved to the window-“I wanted to tell you about it then. But you were there and then gone. I asked Lizann to tell you we’d found out something and not to use the gun.” She paused. “No…I even told her Mr. Martz had filed a motion for a new trial!”
Bowen shook his head. “She didn’t tell me anything about it. Listen…that’s something else. She had good reason not to tell me.” He glanced toward Falvey at the bar and brought Karla closer to him. “I’ve got something on my mind and I don’t know what to do about it. Lizann didn’t just give me that gun for my sake.” He glanced toward the bar again, then back to Karla. “She wanted me to use it on Willis.”