Bounty on a Baron

“Show me.”

The old man led Decker to the spot, and sure enough, there was a scorched patch of hay just across from John Henry’s stall. He went into the stall to check the horse.

“How you doing, boy?” he said. The gelding turned his head and looked at Decker. “Had some excitement here last night? Huh?”

He patted the gelding’s neck, checked him to make sure he hadn’t been injured, and then left the stall. As he did, he stepped on something and looked down.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“What?” the old man said.

Decker bent over and picked the object up. “It’s the heel of a shoe.”

“Looks like it’s from a woman’s shoe.”

“Yeah,” Decker said, turning it over in his hand. “Doesn’t it?”

He looked down at the burnt hay and the scorched blanket. Then he thought about what the man at the poker table had said the night before, about Josephine and her strange man. During the course of the game one of the men had mentioned that the house was at the south end of town.

He wondered if Miss Josephine wasn’t missing a heel from her shoe today.

Decker found a cafe that was open early and went inside for breakfast. He was glad to be the only customer and put the shoe heel on the table while he ate his eggs and bacon.

If the man living with Josephine was the Baron, then why would he have sent her to the livery? What would she have been doing near John Henry’s stall?

What would she have seen while she was there?

A horse…

A saddle…

And then it hit him.

The hangman’s noose.

His trademark.

Now the Baron knew that Decker was there, but how had he known to send someone to the livery to look? And how had he become aware that Decker was after him in the first place? There was only one answer to that.

Sheriff Kyle Roman.

For some reason, Roman had gone to the Baron and told him that Decker was in town—no, if he had mentioned Decker by name, then the Baron wouldn’t have sent his woman to the livery to check.

Roman was playing his own game here but what was it? If he and the Baron were friends, then he surely would have mentioned Decker by name. Why hadn’t he?

Decker was drinking a cup of coffee when Roman walked into the cafe. He spotted Decker and walked right over to his table.

“Decker,” he said, “I got to take you in.”

“For what?” the bounty hunter demanded.

“Murder.”

Decker stared at the man and said, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You were with a girl named Martha last night.”

“So?”

“So this morning she’s dead, strangled.”

“What?”

“I’m arresting you for her murder.”

Chapter Twenty-three

The instant Roman looked into Decker’s cold eyes he knew he’d made a terrible mistake. He went for his gun but Decker said, “Don’t do it, Sheriff.”

Roman froze.

“I’ve got my gun on you under the table. It’s been pointing at you since you walked in.”

Roman wet his lips and then said, “You’re bluffing.”

“Try me,” Decker said. “You’ve seen my gun. It won’t be any problem for me to fire through this table.”

Again, Roman wet his lips.

“You can’t do this, Decker. I’m the law here.”

“Piss-poor excuse for a lawman, if you ask me. What kind of evidence do you have against me to arrest me?”

“You were the last one with her.”

“She was alive when I left.”

“You can’t prove that.”

“And you can’t prove she wasn’t.”

“That’s for a jury to decide.”

“No,” Decker said, shaking his head. “What’s your game, Roman? You want me out of the way so you can deal with the Baron? You can’t collect the bounty. As a matter of fact, I doubt you’re man enough to even try him.”

Roman didn’t answer. He was standing there very awkwardly, beginning to sweat, not knowing what to do.

“Oh, wait a minute, I get it now,” Decker said. “Blackmail. You and I are the only ones who know who he really is. Get me out of the way and you can make him pay for your silence, huh?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“He won’t pay you, you know,” Decker said. “He’ll just kill you.”

Roman frowned, wetting his lips again.

“My breakfast is getting cold, Sheriff,” Decker said. “I’d appreciate it if you would get out of here and let me finish.”

“I’ll just wait for you outside and arrest you there, Decker.”

“No, you won’t. If you try me, Roman, I’ll kill you.”

“You can’t kill a town sheriff. You’d be on the run for the rest of your life.”

“That won’t concern you, because you’ll be dead. Think about that.”

When the sheriff didn’t move Decker took his sawed-off out from beneath the table just to show the lawman that he wasn’t bluffing.

“Jesus—” Roman muttered, staring at the shotgun. Then he slowly backed out of the cafe.

Decker holstered his gun and continued with his breakfast.

He was at odds now with the town sheriff, and that was not good at all.

He felt bad about Martha and figured that either the Baron killed her to frame him, or the sheriff himself did it. His money was on the sheriff. Roman didn’t have the nerve to try to kill Decker, but strangling a woman and pinning it on him was easier. He didn’t think a man like the Baron would have murdered a woman. If he wanted Decker out of the way, he’d face him and try to kill him himself.

Decker’s shoulder twitched, and he suddenly realized that it must have been Sheriff Roman who’d taken the shot at him the night before. That made him wish the man had drawn on him.

Furious, Kyle Roman stalked back to his office. He had let Decker back him down and he hated himself for it. He also cursed himself for missing the man the night before. He should have taken the time to get himself a rifle and not tried to make the shot with a handgun.

In his office he slammed his door, kicked his desk, and threw himself into his chair. He looked at his hands,