The other horses were getting closer. It had taken them a while to pinpoint the location of Nick and the deputy, but they seemed to have narrowed down the general direction.
“Well, now,” Nick said with a sly grin. “Looks like we’re going to have to work something out.”
Less than a minute later, Marshal Eaves and his other two deputies rode up with their guns drawn. They surrounded Nick in a matter of seconds and took aim the moment they saw him standing amid the two bodies.
Eaves was a tall man in his early sixties who wore a battered felt hat that might have been older than his other two deputies put together. The gun he carried was a newer-model Colt, however, showing that the marshal at least had his priorities straight.
“Don’t you move a muscle,” Eaves said. “Where’s my other deputy?”
“He’s gone,” Nick replied.
Eaves couldn’t take his eyes off of Lester’s body, which lay facedown in the dirt. Nodding to one of his deputies, he said, “Go check that one there. That other body looks like Alan Kinman.”
The deputy climbed down from his horse without once taking his aim away from Nick. He circled his target cautiously until his boots nearly tapped the side of Lester’s head. Kneeling down and taking a closer look at Lester’s face, the deputy stood upright and got away from the corpse. “It ain’t Jim.”
“You know who it is?” Eaves asked.
After thinking for a moment, the deputy shook his head. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen him.”
Eaves looked to Nick. “Is that one of the boys who lived with Wesley and Pat?”
Nick nodded. “He was their cousin.”
“Well, he’s dead now. So’s Kinman and everyone who lived in that house. Even the ladies were gunned down like dogs. What’ve you got to say about that?”
“Me and Kinman were after the bounty being offered for Wesley and his cousins,” Nick replied with a shrug. “One of the men tried to kill me, so I shot him. Kinman shot up the rest of that house.”
The marshal showed Nick a humorless grin. “That’s mighty handy. What about that dead man lying there?”
“Kinman shot him, too.” Looking up so his eyes met the marshal’s, Nick added, “That bounty hunter was one hell of a shot.”
So far, both deputies had been content to keep their mouths shut and watch the marshal. When Eaves seemed to be at a loss, the deputy still on his horse said, “He’s carrying a gun, Marshal.”
“Go on and get it from him, Chuck.”
Chuck climbed down to walk past the first deputy. Unlike the other deputies, Chuck held his gun in a steadier hand. His eyes didn’t have the unchecked energy in them that made him look like he would act without thinking first. He stopped well out of Nick’s reach and kept his gun trained on him.
Nick held up his hands, palms out, so everyone could get a good look at the mangled remains of his fingers. The deputies winced slightly, but the marshal didn’t flinch. When Chuck snatched the pistol away from Nick, he looked as if he’d been forced to pick up a cow pie.
“This thing’s barely even a gun,” Chuck said.
The marshal was quick to reply, “Take it from him anyway, and step back so we can tie his hands.” Looking at Nick, he said, “You’re coming with us, mister. What’s your name?”
“Nicolai Petkus.”
The marshal took the Schofield that was handed over to him, and the two deputies tied ropes around Nick’s wrists and ankles. “I ain’t never heard of a Nicolai Petkus.”
“I suppose that’s a good thing,” Nick said.
“Yeah, well you’re still gonna hang for killing these folks, Nicolai.”
“Don’t I get a trial?”
“Sure do.”
Nick held his chin up and said, “Then I shouldn’t hang. There’s not one witness here who saw me kill anyone who wasn’t shooting at me first.”
The fact of the matter was that Nick would have staked every bit of that Reaper’s Fee on the fact that there weren’t any witnesses who could attest to his shooting anyone at all.
At least, he would have wagered those jewels if they were anywhere to be found.
The Reaper’s Fee was gone. Every last bit of it had disappeared, along with the sole witness to Lester and Kinman’s final seconds on this earth. In return for the Reaper’s Fee, that deputy simply had to ride far away and forget what he’d seen. Jim had been just frightened enough and just greedy enough to take Nick’s offer and start running. Nick’s faith in lawmen was sent right back down to the cellar, but at least those jewels had done some good.
Somewhere, Nick was certain Barrett was laughing his ass off at how that loot had been put to use.
Once Nick was bound tightly within those ropes, Marshal Eaves looked him in the eye and said, “I’ve got some bad news for you, Nicolai. I spoke to Kinman before and he never mentioned working with anyone. He did mention rounding up more than just Wesley and Pat, though. He must have had his sights set on someone real good, because the two dipshits who lived here weren’t even worth enough for me to come get ’em myself.”
“He must have meant him,” Nick replied, nodding toward Lester’s body. “I hear he stole a horse from a man down in Texas.”
Eaves winced at that and shook his head. “That could be. It ain’t wise to take a Texan’s horse.” Raising his voice as he looked at his deputies, Eaves announced, “All right, boys. Let’s take our prisoner to his cell.”
“He’s a damn killer,” Chuck said. “We should string him up for what he done to them ladies back there.”
“We don’t know who the hell he shot,” Eaves replied. “Wesley was a crazy asshole, so he could have done it. This ain’t ours to decide. That’s what judges are for. This man’ll get what’s coming to him once he’s on trial.”
With that, Eaves snapped his reins and rode toward the trail that led back into Hackett.
Nick didn’t put up much of a fuss as he was lifted up onto the horse that Kinman had been using. In fact, he did his best to make the deputies’ job easier by going where he was pointed, sitting where he was supposed to sit and keeping his mouth shut. Part of his brain still raced with ways to get away from the lawmen, get out of his ropes or possibly get a weapon, but Nick set all of that to the side.
Once he was tied to the saddle and bound up like a prize calf in a rodeo, Nick’s options had dwindled down far enough to put that unquiet part of his brain to rest.
The quiet did him some good.
TWENTY-NINE
Ocean, California
Three weeks later
Mail was delivered to the Tin Pan Restaurant same as always. It arrived at the usual time, dropped off by the owner of the cigar shop across the street.
“Here you go,” the cigar shop owner said. “Looks like there’s some excitement for ya.”
Catherine smiled and took the small bunch of letters. The man from the cigar shop always expected excitement when Catherine got a letter that wasn’t from someone in her family or a notice from a distributor. When Catherine spotted the familiar, florid handwriting on the envelope, she nearly dropped over.
Since he wrote out most of his own burial notices and funeral invitations, Nick’s handwriting was very distinct. She’d been sick with worry over the last few weeks, and she hadn’t expected to hear from him in this manner. After pouring herself a glass of water, she sat at a table in the back of her place and carefully opened the envelope. She read the letter slowly, savoring each word, but also dreading the next.
My Dearest Catherine,
First and foremost, I must insist that you do not worry about my safety or well-being. I have done what I set out to do and made certain that my friend can rest easy once again. I have, however, run into some trouble which finds me in a jail cell in a town called Hackett until I can be transferred to a larger prison. I am to be tried, although I do not know when. If you must know the particulars, you may request them from the Shannon County courthouse. I do not know my docket number, but it should be filed under P for Nicolai Petkus.