from it, I don’t think you’ll loose your job over it—unless I read Sheriff Cotton completely wrong.”
“He’s a decent man,” Thad said. “I thought I could learn a lot from him, but now I think I could learn a lot more from you.”
“I may be more experienced than Riley Cotton,” Shaye said, “but there are a lot of things about being a man he can teach you that I can’t.”
“A man?” Thad asked. “Or a lawman?”
“Take your pick, Thad,” Shaye said. “There are a lot of the same qualities in both.”
58
Thad was inside the sheriff’s office when Lou Tanner and Ben Collier rode in.
“What about them?” Cotton asked.
Shaye stared at the two men, who stared straight ahead as they rode by.
“That looks like Lou Tanner,” Shaye said. “He rides with Vic Delay.”
“And the other?”
“Don’t know him.”
By this time James and Thomas had changed places and Thomas was on the roof.
“Where are the other four?” Shaye asked.
“I took a walk while you were waking Thad up,” Cotton said. “Two of them got rooms at the hotel over there.”
“And the other two?”
“Don’t know,” Cotton said. “Not at the same hotel anyway. Now two of them are at Bo Hart’s Saloon—his first customers of the day—and the other two are eating at the cafe.”
Shaye started to laugh.
“What’s funny?”
“They’re riding in separate and staying in separate places,” Shaye said. “Sounds like a good plan—except for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“They’re all using the same livery,” Shaye said. “Anybody could get a count from the liveryman.”
“Charlie Styles.”
They watched the two men ride to the far end of the street and disappear.
“Well, we know one thing, at least,” Shaye said.
“What’s that?”
“Where Lou Tanner is,” he answered, “Vic Delay won’t be far behind.”
“So the next two will be Jeb Collier and Vic Delay.”
“Unless they ride in separate.”
Jeb emptied the remnants of the coffeepot onto the fire and then kicked the rest of it dead.
“We ridin’ in together?” Delay asked.
“I been studying on that,” Jeb said, tossing the coffeepot away instead of packing it. “I think we should go in separate.”
“Why?’
“Because you and me are the only ones somebody might recognize,” Jeb said. “We’ll attract even more attention ridin’ in together.”
“Who goes first?”
“You.”
“Why?”
“Okay, then,” Jeb said. “Me. I thought you might want to get to a hot meal and a drink, but it’s okay with me if you don’t.”
“Forget it, forget it,” Delay said. “I’ll ride in.” He mounted up and looked down at Jeb. “How far behind me will you be?”
“Not far. I’ll finish breakin’ camp.”
Delay nodded and rode off in the direction of town.
Jeb looked around, decided a lot of what was in camp could stay. After they hit the bank, they’d have plenty of money to buy new stuff. As far as sending Delay in ahead of him, he figured once the killer was recognized, it might take the attention away from him. Just one extra reason for having a man like Vic Delay ride along with him.
Jeb figured once he finished his business in Pearl River Junction—the girl and the bank—the only man he’d need would be his brother Ben. Not that he really needed him, but he was his brother. He couldn’t very well sacrifice him the way he would the other men.
The only one he’d have to kill, though, was Delay. Once he realized that Jeb had no intention of sharing the bank money with him, he’d come looking for him for sure. Jeb didn’t want to be looking over his shoulder while he was spending the proceeds of the Pearl River Junction bank job.
59
When Vic Delay rode into town, it was almost three. The outlaws had spread their arrivals out pretty good. Shaye was still in front of the sheriff’s office with Cotton. They weren’t going anywhere until all the men had ridden in.
Thad Hagen was on the roof and James and Thomas were at different ends of the main street, on different sides.
“That’s Delay,” Shaye said to Cotton.
“I could’ve guessed.”
Delay was completely clad in black and was wearing his leather gloves. As he rode past the sheriff’s office, he turned his head and looked at each man in turn.
“Think he recognized you?” Cotton asked.
“No reason why he should,” Shaye said. “I’ve seen him before, but we haven’t met.”
Delay’s face was expressionless and then he turned away, but instead of going to the livery he stopped abruptly in front of the cafe, as if he’d just noticed it or caught a whiff of the food.
“Stay here,” Shaye said.
“Why?” Cotton asked. “What’re you going to do?”
“I just thought I’d have a talk with Delay,” Shaye said.
“Do you want me to come and watch your back?”
“No,” Shaye said, “I don’t want to spook him. I just want to have a talk. I’ll be back.”
Shaye stepped into the street and headed down to the cafe.
From the roof Thomas could not see that Delay had stopped at the cafe, but he did see his father crossing the street and he wondered what was going on. He waved at the sheriff, who looked up at him and shrugged helplessly.
Vic Delay entered the cafe and drew all eyes to him. The middle-aged waitress showed him to a table where he could sit with one shoulder against the wall. It was the next best thing to sitting with his back against one. Of course, Jeb Collier instructed everyone to board their horses and find a place to stay as soon as they entered town, but Delay didn’t feel the instructions extended to him.
Nobody told Vic Delay what to do.
From his vantage point James thought that the lone man—who he assumed was Vic Delay, since he didn’t match the description of Jeb Collier—was going to ride past him, but abruptly the man reined his horse in and entered the cafe. He wanted to go over and look in the window at the gunman, but suddenly his father appeared
