he saw someone coming up the boardwalk. Someone moving very cautiously and trying to stay in the shadows.
“Olliver?” Longarm hissed, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Is that you?”
“Yes! Shhhh!”
Longarm frowned, thinking that this was sure a rabbity kind of fellow, and …
Three shots rang out from across the street. Longarm could see Henry Olliver’s silhouette. The silhouette began to run in panic.
Longarm jumped forward and a bullet grazed his temple. He lost his balance for an instant and struck the ground. He tried to yell to Olliver to get down and take cover, but two more shots shattered the night air and Henry Olliver, running full bore up the street, lifted onto his toes.
Longarm, trying to shake his vision back into place and track the location of the muzzle flashes, blinked, and then saw Olliver dance forward a few steps before collapsing in a heap.
“Sonofabitch!” Longarm wailed, rolling in behind a water trough and struggling to gather his wits. “Sonofabitch!”
Two more shots followed in quick succession, and both of them had Longarm’s name. Fortunately, the water trough was made of heavy, water-soaked planking and proved to be an effective shield.
Longarm touched his temple, and his fingers were smeared with blood. He reached for his bandanna, and then he reached up and dunked it into the trough. The cold water felt good and it revived his senses.
Who was trying to kill him? Marshal Ivan Kane? That was a strong possibility.
Longarm waited a couple of moments. He halfway expected citizens to come out to investigate the scattered gunfire, and then he would feel more comfortable standing up in full view. But no one came to investigate until Marshal Kane himself arrived.
“You!” Kane shouted, gun out and pointed at the water trough. “Throw your gun out and stand up or I’ll blast you to pieces!”
“Marshal, it’s me! Custis Long!”
“Custis?” The gun dropped a fraction.
“Yeah.”
“What the hell are you doing out here by yourself on the street at this time of night? Someone shot Henry Olliver down. Were they trying to rob you men?”
Longarm climbed off his belly. He dunked his throbbing head in the water trough and then replaced his hat. It was more of a struggle than he’d expected just to gain his feet.
“Jezus, Custis! Have you been shot too?”
Kane holstered his gun and jumped over to offer support, but Longarm pushed him off. “I’m just grazed. What about Olliver?”
“He died up the street. He was gone before I could even get to him,” Kane said, shaking his head.
Longarm hurled his sopping handkerchief away and stepped back, his gun still in his right hand. “Ivan, I want to see your pistol.”
“What?”
“Your pistol!” Longarm’s command was harsh. “Goddammit! Hand it over.”
But Kane retreated, shaking his head. “You think … you think that I shot you and Henry Olliver?”
“I don’t know what to think!” Longarm raged. “But I want to see your pistol. If it’s got six beans and hasn’t been fired, then I’ll have my answer.”
“Dammit, I just fired it! I saw the muzzle flashes of the gun that killed Oliver and grazed you. I fired three rounds at the man, but missed and he got away.”
For one of the first times in his life, Longarm was seized with indecision. Ivan Kane might well be telling the truth.
“I’m not handing my gun over to you,” Kane vowed, hand shading his gun. “You’re going to have to take it from my dead body, Custis. Because I’m still the law in this town and you are the one that is going to have to answer some questions about this shooting.”
Longarm knew that he was trapped. There was no way that he would kill Marshal Kane under these circumstances. As of yet, he had no evidence of any wrongdoing on the marshal’s part, and since Kane’s gun was in his holster and Longarm’s gun was in his fist, it would be tantamount to murder.
“All right,” he said bitterly as he jammed his six-gun back into his holster. “What the hell do you want to know?”
“What were you doing out here in the dark at this hour?”
“I was supposed to meet Henry Olliver.”
“Why?”
“He wanted to talk to me in private.”
“About what?” Kane said, body poised like a steel coil.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying!”
