Logan cried out in pain, then grabbed his hand. “You’re crazy!” he said.
“Pick up the gun,” Pardeen said calmly.
Logan stared at Pardeen through eyes that were wide with fear. Then the fear was replaced by blind rage. Logan reached for the pistol.
“I’ll send you to hell, you son of a bitch!” Logan yelled.
Pardeen played with Logan the way a cat will play with a mouse. He waited until Logan had the gun in hand before he drew again. This time his bullet caught Logan in the forehead. Logan fell back against the bar, then slid down, dead before he reached the floor.
The sound of the gunshot brought two or three outsiders into the saloon, including the sheriff. He saw Logan sitting down against the bar, his eyes open and sightless, his hand clenched tightly around the unfired pistol.
“Oh, hell,” the sheriff said quietly. He looked over at Pardeen. “Did you do this?”
“Yeah, I done it,” Pardeen said. “But it was self-defense. Look at the gun in his hand. He was goin’ to shoot me.”
“Pardeen forced him into it, Sheriff,” the bartender said. “Logan didn’t want to fight but Pardeen egged him on.”
“Pardeen didn’t have any choice, Sheriff,” a voice from the back of the saloon said. “He had to force a showdown now.”
The sheriff looked toward the sound of the voice and saw Trent Williams.
“Mr. Williams, you are taking up for Pardeen?” the sheriff asked, surprised by statement.
“Believe me, it’s not something I want to do,” Williams said. “But when Mr. Logan spoke to me earlier today, he let it be known that he intended to kill Quince Pardeen. I believe if Pardeen had not forced a showdown here, Logan would have shot him in the back.”
“Yeah,” Corbett said. “That’s what I think too.”
“What have you got to say about this, Pardeen?” the sheriff asked.
“You heard what the man said, Sheriff,” Pardeen replied. “I didn’t have no choice. If I hadn’t killed him, he would’a killed me.”
The sheriff shook his head. “I don’t know if I believe you or not,” he said.
Pardeen smiled. “Oh, yeah, you believe me all right,” he said easily. “You believe me because you are afraid to go against me. Otherwise, you would have arrested me the moment I came into town.”
“No, I—I couldn’t arrest you,” the sheriff said. “I’ve heard what you did back in Puxico, but I’ve received no paper on you and I’ve got no authority.”
“Well, Sheriff, if you do get some paper on me and you want to come arrest me, you know where you can find me,” Pardeen taunted.
“You just—you just watch your step around here,” the sheriff said, trying hard to keep his voice from breaking in fear. Turning, he walked out of the saloon, leaving Logan’s body dead on the floor behind him.
Pardeen chuckled as the sheriff left; then, turning, he saw Trent Williams staring at him. He walked over to talk to him.
“Logan didn’t really tell you he was going to kill me, did he?” Pardeen asked.
“No.”
“Then why did you say that?”
Williams looked around the saloon to see if anyone was close enough to overhear their conversation. As everyone seemed to want to give Pardeen a very wide berth, there was nobody close by.
“I spoke up for you because I want to hire your services,” Williams said.
“I’m not interested,” Pardeen replied.
Pardeen’s dismissive comment surprised Williams. “You’re not interested? Why not? You haven’t even heard what I want you to do.”
“I know what you want me to do. You want me to kill someone. The answer is no. Kill him yourself,” Pardeen said.
“You haven’t heard my offer.”
“It would have to be a very good offer to get me to change my mind,” Pardeen said.
“Is ten thousand dollars good enough?” Williams asked.
“What?” Pardeen replied with a gasp. “Did you say ten thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
A smile spread across Pardeen’s face, and this time the smile was genuine.
“I’ll do it.”
“You haven’t asked who it is I want you to kill.”
“I don’t care who it is. For ten thousand dollars I’d kill my own grandma.”
Chapter Twenty-two
