'I can't control an entire posse. Folks know what happened here.
Someone mightt' Ryan cut him off. 'You will control them, Sheriff. '
Sloan nodded. 'I'll try.'
'That isn't good enough. No one takes the law into his own hands. You
got that? If any of your friends thinks otherwise, you shoot the son
of a bitch.' Ryan expected Sloan to leave, but he stayed where he
was.
His face turned bright red, and he shuffled from foot to foot as he
stared down at the floor.
'Was there something else? ' Ryan asked.
'It seems to me . . . and a lot of folks in town . . . that I ought
to be in charge of this investigation.' Ryan cast Cole a quick glance
to see how he was reacting to the sheriff's claim.
'How do you figure that? ' Ryan asked.
'I'm the sheriff in Rockford Falls, so this is my jurisdiction, not
yours. Like I said before, I ought to be in charge and you two should
be taking orders from me.'
'You think you could do a better job? ' 'I maybe could.'
'You can't even look at the stains on the floor, ' Ryan said. 'What
makes you think you cant' 'It's my jurisdiction, ' Sloan stubbornly
insisted.
Ryan's patience was all used up. 'Marshal Clayborne and I are here by
special appointment, and I don't particularly care if you've got a
problem with that or not. Stay out of our way, ' he ordered harshly.
'Now, go get your posse together.' Cole listened to the exchange
without saying a word. He waited until the sheriff left, then crossed
the lobby to the windows and opened one.
A clean, sweet breeze, tinged with the scent of pines, brushed over his
arms and neck. He took several deep breaths to rid himself of the
metallic smell of blood inside the bank, and then turned around and
leaned against the ledge.
He stared at Ryan's back. 'It rained hard last night and most of this
morning, ' he remarked.
'Yeah, I know. I got soaked.'
