Longarm’s original idea had been to extract a decent year’s wage from this asshole. Three hundred sixty dollars, say. That would have been fair payment, he figured. And more than enough for Angela and Buddy to leave Cargyle with if that was what they chose to do.
But now, after this morning, and with the knowledge that whatever amount was finally paid would actually be coming out of Harry Bolt’s pocket …
“Five hundred,” he said without taking time to think over the change.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“If you say so. But it’s what I’ll recommend the lady accept. Not a penny less.”
“Three hundred,” Terry countered.
“Six,” Longarm said.
“Three fifty.”
“Seven fifty.” Longarm’s arms were folded and his eyes half closed.
“You son of a bitch.”
“Eight hundred.”
“Quit dicking around with this, the both of you,” Bolt snarled. “Long, you asked for five hundred to begin with.”
“That’s right, I did.”
“Clete, go get the man five hundred out of the safe.”
“But, Harry …”
“Do it!”
Well, Longarm hadn’t particularly wondered which of them was in charge here.
Cletus Terry didn’t look real happy. But he got up and headed in the direction of the back room.
“Terry,” Longarm called out to him before he’d gone more than a few paces. “That’s five hundred the lady will be wanting. And a public apology, nice an’ loud, that I want to hear.”
Terry looked at Bolt. Who merely nodded.
The saloon keeper cussed some, but kept most of it under his breath. He went on toward the back room, leaving Longarm and Harry Bolt alone.
Before Longarm had time to speak Bolt was already leaning forward to explain. “I owe you an apology, Long. You know that don’t come easy to me, but I do. I bought a sad story is what it is. The son of a bitch convinced me. He had to be free last night to see his daughter and keep her from making a big mistake. That’s what he claimed. He said he’d come here straight from Canon City to find and help his girl. Said he hadn’t seen her in fourteen years. Said that was how long he’d been inside. He sounded so plausible, hell, I should have known better. Anyone should have known better. But I didn’t. I bought it and he left my jail laughing up his sleeve, I’m sure. Said he’d be there when I opened up first thing this morning. After all, it wasn’t much of a charge you had against him. It wasn’t like he’d actually done anything. Just threatened to. You and me have done worse than that to each other every time we’ve seen each other for, what, eight, nine years now and neither one of us has gone to jail over it. I didn’t think there was any harm in letting him go take care of his daughter. If he even had a daughter. Now this morning I hear he tried to kill you. And had a bunch of cash on him when you checked him out. He only had four dollars or so in his pockets when he left my jail yesterday evening. He even asked me for a loan to help him out. I didn’t go that far, of course, but I can tell you he didn’t have much on him then. How much was he carrying this morning?”
Longarm told him.
Bolt shook his head. “Near two hundred. And a whole night to spend part of it. He must have been paid two, maybe two hundred fifty dollars for the job then. I really do owe you an apology. And you have it, Long. I’m sorry. I am deeply, truly sorry that that happened this morning. It’s my fault.”
Longarm was taken completely aback by the apology. There were many things he might have expected this morning from Harry Bolt. An apology wasn’t among them. Hell, an apology wouldn’t have made his long list of the thousand possibilities most likely.
“And if you’re wondering if I might be the one who hired him for the job, well, I can’t blame you for thinking it,” Bolt went on.
“Actually, Harry, that never crossed my mind.”
“No? Shit, Long, I feel practically hurt that you wouldn’t think of me. You know I hate your damn guts.”
“Sure you do, Harry. An’ I hate yours. But what’s that got to do with anything? I never thought of you for the job because it ain’t your style. You’d shoot me yourself—or try to—if you thought it needed doing. I don’t doubt that for a minute. But pay somebody else for the job? I can’t see that, Harry. Shit, it’d cost you almost as much to hire somebody as it woulda cost to pay off Mrs. Fulton. As much as it woulda cost if that imbecile Terry knew how to act human today. An’ then you’d have somebody walkin’ around with knowledge he could hold against you afterward besides. No, Harry, I can’t see you for hiring that fella to come after me. You’re smarter than that.”
“Why, thank you, Custis. Coming from you I take that as a high compliment.”
“Well, it ain’t intended as one. Just a simple truth.”
“So do you have any ideas about who might have wanted you killed here?”
“Besides you and Clete Terry, you mean?” Longarm shook his head. “Can’t think of a soul. Not one.”
Bolt pursed his lips and pulled at his chin with the fingers of both hands, tugging and stretching the skin there like he was pulling taffy. “I don’t suppose the man could have stolen that money and shotgun,” he mused
