'You look real stupid, Vern,' Wacey said. 'What'd you do, piss your pants?'
***
Joe came around from the other side of the house near the garage. Wacey's back was turned to him; he was facing Vern. Sheridan was out in the yard. Her clothes were tattered and she was smudged with dirt and blood.
'What are you doing here? What are you saying?' Wacey asked Vern, his voice high-pitched.
'I wiped out the rest of the weasels, and we're almost home free.'
He gestured toward Sheridan and spoke to her. 'Don't you move, darling'.'
Sheridan stood absolutely still. But Joe knew she could see him. Don't give me away, Joe silently implored.
'Let's get out of here while we can,' Vern said to Wacey. 'They know about the weasels, and Barnum's on the way now.'
'How in the hell did that happen?' Wacey demanded, almost in falsetto.
'I'll tell you in the car,' Vern said, shaking his head from side to side.
'Tell me now.'
Vern sighed. 'Clyde Lidgard woke the fuck up and told everybody what happened. Somebody found some pictures he took up in the mountains with both of us in them.' His voice cracked again, like it had in the pickup. 'Remember Clyde and his goddamned camera? We've got to get out of
here NOW!'
'Not yet,' Wacey said, reaching down for his 9mm pistol. 'I've got to finish up here.'
Joe thought Wacey would turn on Vern. But the pistol started to raise toward Sheridan, started to arc up from the holster as Wacey held it with a stiff arm, started to flush up into the air like a pheasant exploding from the brush into the sky, and Joe heard his daughter start to scream ... How could Wacey, the same Wacey who had shared coffee with Joe on so many mornings while they watched the elk come down from the mountains to eat hay in a rancher's meadow, the same Wacey who scrunched in between Joe and Vern on the bench seat of Vern's Game and Fish pickup, the same Wacey who, with that goofy laugh, recalled riding both bulls and buckle bunnies at the National College Rodeo Finals in Bozeman--how could this be the Wacey who was now leveling his 9mm pistol at Joe's older daughter?
With the shotgun, Joe shot Wacey's arm off at the elbow. The blast spun Wacey around until he was facing Joe. Joe had never seen terror in Wacey's face before. Wacey's disembodied forearm, with the fist still gripping the pistol, flew end over end through the air and dropped to the ground near the base of the cottonwood tree.
Joe racked the shotgun and, with two more lightning blasts, blew both of Wacey's knees back in the wrong direction. Wacey buckled to the pavement on top of himself, howling.
Vern stood stock still with his palms out and his mouth open. His robe was spattered with Wacey's blood.
Sheridan rushed to Joe, and he bent to catch her. He didn't know she could squeeze his neck so hard. She was sobbing, and he kissed her and hugged her back.
'Your mom is okay,' he told her, picking her up and rocking her as if she were an infant.
'I saw her last night and she's okay.'
'I was so worried about her,' Sheridan sobbed. 'It's all my fault.'
'No it isn't, darling,' Joe said, wincing. 'Don't ever think that. Don't ever say that. You are such a brave girl. You are such a hero. Your mom will be proud of you.'
'Is he dead?' she asked.
'I'm sorry you had to see all that,' Joe said to Sheridan. 'It makes me kind of sick.'
'He deserved it. Nobody ever needed it more than him.'
He lowered her to the grass when he noticed that Vern had bent over and dug the pickup keys out of Wacey's pocket and had started to walk away.
'Where do you think you're going?' Joe asked.
'We're through, remember?' Vern said over his shoulder. 'I did my part. And shit, you sure did yours. I forgot what a wing shot you were.' Out came the chuckle.
'Don't take another step, Vern,' Joe cautioned.
'We're waiting for Barnum now. You're going to prison.'
'We're through, Joe. We had a deal.' Vern was angry. 'Remember that one you owe me.' He never stopped trying.
On the porch, Wacey moaned. He was alive, but blood was pouring out of
him. His legs were grotesquely bent backwards underneath him.
'Stop, Vern,' Joe said. He didn't yell, but he knew Vern could hear
him.
Vern continued to walk along the back of the house.
'Honey, turn your head,' Joe said sternly to Sheridan.
'No, I want to see this,' Sheridan said.
'Turn your head!'
Sheridan reluctantly obeyed.
