He turned and entered the office. A portly man with a big mustache was seated behind the desk.
“Sheriff?”
“That’s right,” the man said. “Sheriff Gibney…and you must be Deputy Shaye.”
“That’s right, Thomas Shaye. I assume my brother was here?”
“He was,” Gibney said, “he and his two men.”
“Are they all right?”
“They’re fine,” Gibney said. “They had a hot meal and went on their way, but they left somethin’ behind.”
“What’s that?”
Gibney waved his hand and said, “In my cell.”
Thomas followed, saw a man still lying with his back to the outside of the cell.
“Who is it?’
“A man named Davis,” Gibney said. “Your brother seemed to think he was part of the gang that robbed your bank.”
Thomas looked at Gibney. “Tell me about it….”
After the lawman had told him everything he knew, Thomas asked him to open the cell door.
“And then what?”
“And then leave me alone with him,” Thomas said. “I’m gonna ask him some questions.”
“Your brother tried that.”
“I’m gonna ask a little more forcefully.”
Davis turned over and looked at Thomas as he came through the open cell door….
Ben Cardwell and Simon Jacks crossed into Colorado.
“You want to tell me where we’re headed?” Jacks asked. “Where this special bank is?”
“You’ll find out,” Cardwell said. “Just know that there’s a lot of money ahead of us, Jacks. More than you could imagine.”
“That’s ahead of us,” Jacks said. “What do you think is behind us?”
“What does it matter?” Cardwell asked. “Davis, a posse. By the time they catch up to us, we’ll have a dozen guns behind us. We’ll take care of them, and then my bank.”
“Your bank?”
Cardwell looked at Jacks. “Our bank, Simon. Our bank.”
“The trail is clear from here,” Ralph Cory said.
James and Colon had remained mounted. The Mexican had long since admitted that the ex-bounty hunter was a better tracker than he was. He was there mostly for his gun, when trouble came.
It had taken them some time to relocate the trail, but once they were far enough from town that the ground wasn’t filled with tracks from town traffic, Cory had picked it up again.
Cory turned and mounted up, accepted the reins of his horse from James.
“They’re still together,” he said. “Still heading northeast.”
“Colorado,” Colon said.
“Looks like it.” He looked at James. “We gonna follow them all the way?”
James nodded. “All the way.”
“You remember who I am?” Thomas asked Sean Davis.
The man sat up on his cot and stared at Thomas without answering.
“I’m the deputy who’s gonna beat you to death if you don’t start talkin’,” Thomas said to him.
Davis stared at the badge on Thomas’s chest, then looked past him.
“W-Where’s the sheriff?” he asked.
“He left,” Thomas said. “Went for a walk. I told him to leave us alone so we could…talk.”
“I—I got nothin’ to say to you.”
“Yeah,” Thomas said, “yeah, you do, friend…you just don’t know it yet.”
He took out his knife and moved closer. “I need to know what you know, Davis, but if you won’t tell me, then I don’t see that you have any need of your tongue…do you?”
Davis blinked at him and said, “Huh?”
“Let me make it simple,” Thomas explained. “If you don’t talk to me, I’m gonna cut out your tongue.”
“You—You can’t do that.”
“Sure I can.”
“Y-You wouldn’t.”
“Yes,” Thomas said, “I would.”
“B-But—”
“You ever hear of Ethan Langer?”
Davis’s eyes popped and he skittered back on his cot until the wall stopped him. “That was you?”
“Now let me ask my questions again….”
53
When Thomas came out of the sheriff’s office, the man was sitting in a wooden chair outside.
“Get what you needed?” Gibney asked.
“Yes.”
“You musta been more persuasive than your brother,” the sheriff said. “Say, ain’t he a little young for this kinda responsibility?”
“He’s old enough.”
“That’s what he said.”
“I’m gonna need a fresh mount,” Thomas said, “but I don’t think I have enough money to buy one. I can trade my mount in, but—”
Gibney stood up. “Let’s go and talk to Ian McShane,” he said. “He’s the local horse trader. In fact, that’s where your brother and them others found your man Davis.”
“Is that a fact?”
They started walking down the street, Thomas leading his horse.
“Where’s Davis’s horse and rig?” he asked the lawman.
“At the livery.”
“Maybe I can sweeten the deal by throwin’ them in.”
“Could be.”
They walked a few moments and then Gibney asked, “That feller Cory, ridin’ with your brother?”
“What about him?”
“He sure looked familiar to me,” the lawman said. “Where’d he come from?”
“He’s just a local, from Vengeance Creek,” Thomas said. “He volunteered.”
“And the Mex?”
“Also a volunteer.”
“Well, I don’t know him,” Gibney said, “but I’m sure I know Cory from someplace. It’ll come to me.”
Thomas hoped not.
When they reached the corral and shack at the end of town, Gibney stopped Thomas.
“Ian’s a fierce haggler,” he explained. “You won’t be able to buy a horse from him without it.”
“Okay.”
“And how are you on squeezin’s?”
“What?”
“Never mind,” Gibney said, patting Thomas on the arm, “just follow my lead, and maybe you’ll come out of it with a fresh horse and just a little bit of a headache.”
Sweetening the deal with Sean Davis’s horse and outfit had done the job for him. Thomas also promised to send Ian some more money when he returned to Vengeance Creek. With Sheriff Gibney backing his play, the horse trader had finally agreed.
He was tightening the cinch on his saddle when Gibney walked into the livery.
“Just about ready to go?”
“Almost.”
“Sure you don’t wanna grab a hot meal?”
“No time.”
“You got some idea about where your men are goin’?”
“Davis gave me some idea.”
“You believe him?”
“Yeah, I believe him.”
Thomas turned his new horse, a five-year-old bay mare Ian swore had the stamina of a bull, and walked her out of the livery. Thomas usually rode colts, or geldings, but the trader swore this was the best horse he had. Though he was not as good a judge of horseflesh as his father and younger brother, from what he could see, the man was telling the truth.
The sheriff followed him out of the livery. “So what are you gonna do?”
“Since I have an idea where they’re goin’,” Thomas said, swinging up into the saddle, “I don’t have to track them. I can try to maybe get ahead of them.”
“Might be you’ll just catch up to the rest of your posse,” Gibney said.
“Might be.”
“Anybody else gonna be comin’ along after you?”
Thomas briefly thought about his father, but he doubted Dan Shaye was ready to swing into the saddle just yet.
“I don’t think so,” he said.
“How long should I hold Davis?”