“Well…no, not as such, but—”
“What does that mean, ‘as such’?” Shaye demanded.
“Sheriff,” Timmerman said, “I’m sure you appreciate my position in the community.”
“As a lawyer? Or as mayor?”
“Both, actually, as well as a father.”
“We’re both fathers.”
“But that’s where our similarities end,” Timmerman said. “I’m a politician, Sheriff.”
“And I’m a lawman,” Shaye said. “Maybe that’s why I’m havin’ trouble understanding what you’re trying to say here. You’re talkin’ like a politician.” Shaye leaned forward. “Why don’t you just say what you want to say right out?”
Timmerman sat back in his chair, as if trying to maintain his distance from Shaye.
“All right, then,” he finally said. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for your son, James, to pursue a relationship with my daughter.”
“What makes you think James has any intention of doin’ that?” Shaye asked.
“Nancy has told me how he comes around the bank and…looks at her.”
“My son goes to the bank because he has a deposit there.”
“So he’s not interested in Nancy?’
“Not that I know of,” Shaye said. “She’s kind of a…skinny thing, ain’t she?”
“Nancy’s very pretty,” Timmerman said. “Everyone in town knows that.”
“Mayor, did Nancy tell you that James has spoken to her? Told her he’s interested in her?”
“Well, no—”
Shaye stood up. “I don’t think we have anything else to talk about,” he said. “My son is not interested in your daughter.”
Shaye walked to the door, opened it and stopped there. He looked at Timmerman, who was still leaning back in his chair.
“But just for the record,” Shaye said, “don’t ever try to tell me that my son is not good enough for your daughter.”
“I wasn’t—”
“That’s exactly what you were tryin’ to do,” Shaye said, “in your politician way.”
Shaye walked out without another word. He closed the door gently, although he wanted to slam it, then walked out past Chalmers and closed the outer door gently as well. Moments later Chalmers heard the downstairs door slam.
After James had some food and took care of some other business, he returned to spell Thomas.
“Any change?” he asked, taking the seat.
“Yeah,” Thomas said. “They had a conversation.”
13
Instead of going back to his office, Shaye walked around town for a while, waiting for his anger at the mayor to dissipate. He did not walk anywhere near the hotel where James and Thomas were keeping an eye on Cardwell and Davis. Instead, he walked in the other direction and eventually found himself in front of the Road House Saloon. He decided to go in and have a beer. The place was half full, and finding a spot at the bar was easy.
“Sheriff Shaye,” Al Baker said. “You never come in here.”
“I’m here now, Al,” Shaye said. “I’ll have a beer.”
“Sure,” Baker said, “comin’ up.”
He went to draw the beer, and the other men at the bar moved to give Shaye more room. They all knew the story of Shaye tracking down the Langer gang.
Baker returned with a beer and put it down in front of Shaye. “I told your boy everythin’ I knew about Thomas, Sheriff,” the barkeep said.
“I’m not here about that, Al,” Shaye said. “I’m just here to have a beer.”
“Oh,” Baker said, “well, okay. On the house?”
“I’ll pay.”
“Like father, like son.”
Shaye put a coin on the bar and said, “What?”
“Thomas,” Baker said, picking up the coin. “He always insists on payin’ too.”
“When did Thomas start comin’ in here, Al?”
Baker thought a moment, then said, “Coupla months ago, I guess.”
“He ever say why?”
“No, not exactly.”
“What do you mean, not exactly?”
“I’ve seen a lot of men drink, Sheriff,” Baker said. He leaned his elbows on the bar. “I can usually tell why, just from lookin’ at them. I know when they’re drinkin’ to wash down the dust, I know when they’re drinkin’ because they need to, and I know when they’re drinkin’ out of anger.”
“And Thomas?”
Baker straightened up. “He was a pretty angry young man.”
Shaye drank half his beer down and thought that over.
“Sheriff?”
“Yeah, Al?”
“You’re pretty angry right now, aren’t you?”
Baker moved down the line to serve someone else.
Shaye could see that the bartender had obviously been telling the truth about his ability to read people, which meant he was right about Thomas as well. And if Thomas was angry, who else could he be possibly be angry at than his father?
Shaye finished his beer and left the saloon.
“Ain’t we at least goin’ to a saloon tonight?”
“No.”
“But we been sittin’ here all day, Ben,” Davis complained.
“We went inside to eat in the dining room.”
“Yeah, but other than that we been sittin’ here all day with them watchin’ us. I gotta go do somethin’.”
Cardwell stood up. “I tell you what. I’m goin’ to the room. You can do whatever you want to with the rest of the night.”
“That suits me,” Davis said, standing up quickly.
Cardwell grabbed his arm and pointed a finger at him. “Just don’t get in no trouble, understand?”
“I understand.”
Cardwell released the man’s arm and stepped inside the hotel lobby. Immediately, he ducked to one side so he could look out the window. He watched as the deputy across the street—the young one—made up his mind whether to follow Davis or stay put.
James watched the two men stand up, have a brief conversation, and then split up. One went into the hotel and the other started walking down the street. He took just a moment to decide to follow the one who was on the move, as the other one appeared to be staying put.
Thomas was sitting at the desk in the office when Shaye walked in. “Well, where have you been?”
“I had a meetin’ with the mayor.”
“What about?”
“Your brother.”
“What did James do?”
“Nothin’,” Shaye said. “Get out of my chair.”
Thomas gave up his father’s chair, walked around the desk and sat down again. “What are you so mad
