Raylan took off, holding the car in deep ruts all the way to the JESUS SAVES sign, where he made his turn into the deep tunnel of trees, the dirt road here not much wider than the car.
They saw they weren't going to catch him, no way. They'd drive on up to Ava's and do what Boyd said, back him while he made his play. Dewey said he hoped they'd get there before Boyd shot him. Man, that was something he wanted to see.
Devil, his eyes stuck on the narrow road, said, 'Christ Almighty . . .' The Cadillac headlights coming onto the rear end of the Town Car sitting in the road, its lights off, the Cadillac creeping now, Devil taking his time, saying, 'The hell's he doing?' as they came to a stop about twenty feet short of that black rear deck shining in their headlights.
Dewey said, 'He must be sneaking up on the house.'
Devil looked toward Dewey and said, 'No, he ain't,' because there was Raylan standing at Dewey's side of the car, resting his hands now on the sill right next to Dewey. They had to say something to him, Devil wanting to know what the hell he thought he was doing, Dewey asking why he was blocking the fuckin' road.
Raylan didn't say a word, not till he opened the door and slipped into the back, picked up the shotgun and rested the barrel on the front seat, between the cowboy hat and the gator killer's dyed hair.
He said, 'Tell me what's going on.'
Silence, neither one of them saying a word.
Raylan racked the shotgun and saw them jump.
'I didn't hear you.'
'There ain't nothing going on,' Devil said. 'We's out riding around.'
Raylan squeezed the trigger, putting a big hole in the windshield with the explosion, and the two skins clamped their hands over their ears, turning their heads back and forth.
Raylan racked the pump again and Devil said, 'Boyd wants to talk to you is all.'
'He told me he's gonna shoot me.'
Dewey turned his head to say, 'Then what're you asking us for, asshole?' and Raylan laid the shotgun barrel across his face, a quick hard stroke that drew blood from his nose.
Raylan said, 'An outlaw's life's hard, ain't it?'
He fished handcuffs from his belt and gave them to Devil on the muzzle end of the shotgun, telling him to cuff his right hand, put it through the steering wheel and cuff the gator killer. 'Now hand me your pistols.'
'We don't have none,' Devil said.
'All right,' Raylan said, 'but if you're telling me a story I'm gonna break your nose like I broke Mr. Crowe's. That okay with you?'
It got him a couple of Beretta nines.
'And the car keys.'
Raylan got out, went around to the back of the Cadillac and called Art Mullen's pager. While he waited he opened the trunk to see a couple of Kalashnikovs inside, threw the pistols in there and closed the trunk. He looked in the car again, on Devil's side this time, and said, 'You fellas wait here, okay?'
His cell phone buzzed as he was moving through the trees toward Ava's house. It was Art Mullen, Art telling how they were bushwhacked by a couple of baldheaded kids with a machine gun. 'Fired at the cars but didn't hit either one, so nobody's hurt. We went up after 'em with sheriff's people and the kids threw down their weapons. I'm still up on the hill, behind the motel. Where're you?'
Raylan told him and Art said, 'Wait for us, we won't be long.'
'I'll go slow,' Raylan said. 'If I see he's laying for me I'll hang back. But let's find out where he is.'
He was still holding the shotgun, pointed down at his side, going up to the door. Ava opened it and stood there. He didn't care too much for the green dress or the way she was looking at him. He said, 'Don't feel you have to say anything.'
But she did. 'I swear to God, Raylan, I didn't know he was coming.'
He believed her and told her so in a nice tone of voice. He wanted to tell her it was a pretty dress, but couldn't. He waited and now Ava motioned with her head as she moved aside. Raylan stepped through the doorway to see Boyd at the table that was laid out with a platter of chicken, bowls of mashed potatoes, peas and carrots, a plate of biscuits and a gravy boat. It looked like Boyd had already started, white gravy covering everything on his plate, a pistol lying next to it. Boyd picked it up.
Raylan saw it was an old Army Colt .45 as it came to point at the shotgun he was holding at his side. Boyd said, 'No shotguns allowed.' He told Ava to take it and throw it outside, then motioned with the .45 for Raylan to come over to the table.
'Sit at that end and help yourself. The gravy ain't bad, but not as good as your mama's. It never is, huh?'
Raylan took his place and Boyd said, 'When you shot the guy, that wop? You were sitting at a table like this?'
'We were a little closer.'
'There was food on the table?'
'No, but it was set, glasses, dishes.'
'Have something.'
Raylan picked up a drumstick and held it in his left hand to take a bite.
'You had your gun - what was it?'
'That time? A Beretta nine, same as your two morons were packing.'
Boyd said, 'I believe I heard one shot.'
'That's all it took. They're waiting in the car.'
'Which one'd you shoot?'
'Neither, but they're out of business.'
Boyd said, 'You're sitting at the table,' getting back to it.
'Where was your gun - where mine is?'
'It was holstered.'
'Bullshit.'
'It was holstered.'
'Where was his?'
'In a beach bag, between his knees.'
'He's going swimmin' and stops off?'
Raylan didn't answer that one.
'What'd he have in the bag - what kind of piece?'
'I don't recall.'
'How'd you know when to pull?'
'Somebody yelled he had a gun.'
Boyd paused, staring the length of the table, about eight feet, at Raylan. 'You give him twenty-four hours - the time was up when you shot him?'
'Pretty close. I'd remind him how much time he had left.
Ten minutes, two minutes . . . I believe we got down to around twenty seconds . . .'
'You're looking at your watch?'
'Estimating the time.'
'How much you think you got left now?'
'I thought till noon tomorrow.'
'I'm saying it's right now, less you want to eat first.'
'You can call it off,' Raylan said. 'I don't mind.''
Boyd shook his head. 'If you're gonna keep after me, we may as well get 'er done.'
'Your forty-five's on the table but I have to pull,' Raylan said. 'Is that how we do it?'
'Well, shit yeah, it's my call. What're you packing?'
