'Who organized them?'
'I don't know his real name. He calls himself The Preacher.'
'Is he a preacher?'
'I don't know. I think so. I don't think he's being ironic.'
'And there's a problem,' I said.
'The gang lives off the town. They require the businessmen to pay protection. They use the stores and the restaurants and bars and don't pay. They acquire businesses in town for less than they're worth by driving out the owners. They bully the men. Bother the women.'
'Cops?'
'We have a police chief. He's a pleasant man. Very likable. But he does nothing. I don't know if he's been bribed, or if he's afraid or both.'
'Sheriff's Department?'
'The sheriff's deputies come out, if they're called,' she said. 'But it's a long way and when they arrive, there are never any witnesses.'
'So why are you telling me all this?'
She shifted in her chair, and pulled the hem of her skirt down as if she could cover her knees, which she couldn't. She didn't seem to be wearing any perfume, but she generated a small scent of expensive soap.
'They killed my husband.'
'I'm sorry,' I said.
'He was in the Marine Corps. He played football in college,' she said. 'He was a very courageous man. An entirely wonderful man.'
Her voice was flat and without inflection, as if she were reciting something she'd memorized.
'He wouldn't pay the Dell any money,' she said. 'So they killed him.'
'Witnesses?'
'No one has come forward.'
'How do you know it was the, ah, Dell?' I said.
'They threatened him, if he didn't pay. Who else would it be?'
'And you want me to find out which one did it?'
'Yes and see that they go to jail.'
'Can you pay?'
'Yes. Up to a point.'
'We'll come in under the point,' I said.
She shifted in her chair again and crossed her legs, and rested her folded hands on her thigh.
'Why didn't you just sell and get out?' I said. 'Move to Park City or someplace?'
'There's no market for homes anymore. No one wants to move there because of the Dell gang.'
'And you knew Samuelson from your L.A. days.'
'His son played for Steve… my husband.'
'And you asked him about getting some help and he suggested me.'
'Yes. He said you were good and you'd keep your word.'
'A good description,' I said.
'He also said you were too sure of yourself. And not as funny as you thought you were.'
'Well he's wrong on the last one,' I said. 'But no need to argue.'
'Will you do it?'
'Okay,' I said.
'Just like that?'
'Yep.'
'What are you going to do?'
'Come out and poke around.'
'That's all?'
'It's a start,' I said.
Chapter 2
POTSHOT WAS IN a valley in the early stages of ascending foothills, which became at some indeterminate point the Sawtooth Mountains. There were
