She stopped struggling and simply stared at him, a look of horror on her face.
He released her wrist, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“He broke his neck, right in your kitchen.”
She slapped him then, hard enough to make his ears ring.
“You’re a liar!”
“I’m not,” Decker said. “What name does he go by, this man of yours.”
“You know his name. You’re hunting him!” she snapped.
“I know him as the Baron,” Decker said, “but I don’t know his real name.”
“The Baron?” she asked, confused. “His name is Brand.”
“Just Brand?”
“It—it’s all I know.”
“He lives with you, and that’s all you know?”
“That’s all…he ever told me.”
“I’m sorry to show you this, Miss Hale,” he said, taking the poster from his pocket and handing it to her.
She read it, a growing look of horror on her face.
“A—a professional killer?” she said, staring at Decker. He winced at the pain he saw in her eyes but consoled himself with the knowledge that he wasn’t causing the pain, her man was.
“Yes.”
“It can’t be.”
He took the poster from her.
“What did he tell you?”
“That he had been framed for killing someone and that you were a bounty hunter. He said you wouldn’t be concerned with whether or not he was guilty, you’d just want to take him in.”
“He’s right,” Decker said. “As far as it goes, that’s all true. I hunt men for bounty and bring them in for trial. It’s up to a judge and jury to decide if they’re guilty or not. As a matter of fact, most of the men I hunt have already been found guilty.”
“But not…him?”
“Not yet. He’ll have to stand trial.”
“He—he said you’d want to kill him.”
“That’s why I came to see you,” Decker said. “Go to him, tell him I don’t want to kill him. Convince him to come back with me.”
“I can’t—” she said, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t…go back there—”
“Whatever he’s done, Miss Hale,” Decker said, “I’m sure he loves you, or else why would he have kept coming back?”
“You’re—you’re confusing me,” she said. “First you say he’s a killer, then you say he loves me.”
“One doesn’t prevent the other from being true.”
“It can’t—that can’t be true. How could such a man—love?”
“Believe me,” Decker said, “all men can love, no matter what they do for a living.”
She looked at him now as if seeing him for the first time.
“You’re a strange man.”
“No stranger than he, or any other man. I’ve got a job to do, and I’d rather do it without killing him.”
“But—but you will if you have to.”
“If he forces me to,” Decker said, “yes.”
“Or he may kill you.”
“That’s very possible.”
“And yet you’ll still try to bring him in?”
“Yes.”
“To—to bring him to justice?”
“Please, don’t try to make me out some sort of saint, ma’am,” Decker said. “I want to bring him in for the bounty. No other reason.”
“I don’t—” she said, shaking her head, “I don’t understand either one of you.”
“I’m not asking you to understand us, I’m asking you to save one of us from being killed and one of us from killing.”
“I don’t—I still can’t believe—”
“Go and talk to him. You’ll know when he’s telling you the truth.”
“Yes,” she murmured, “yes…” She looked at him and asked, “Where will you be?”
He thought a moment, then said, “The Broadus House.”
She nodded and told him, “I have to go home.”
“I’m sorry about what I have to do. I truly am.”
She looked at his face again and said, “Yes, I do believe you are.”
Brand had just finished disposing of Sheriff Roman’s body—albeit temporarily—when he heard the front door of the house open. He stiffened, then relaxed when Josephine came into the kitchen.
“What are you doing home?” he asked. Then he saw her face and said, “What the hell is wrong?”
“He came to see me.”
“Who?”
“Decker.”
“He did? What did he want?”
“He wants me to tell you that he doesn’t want to kill you.”
“That’s what he said?”
“Yes.”
He studied her for a moment and then asked, “And you believed him?”
“Yes,” she admitted, lifting her chin, “I did.”
Brand frowned and asked, “What else did he tell you?”
“That you were a professional killer called the Baron, and then he showed me a wanted poster.” There was a long pause, but she finally asked, “Is that what you were doing all those times you were gone? Killing people?”
“I was doing,” he said, “what I have to do to survive.”
“You have to kill to survive?”
“We all have to kill to survive, Josephine,” he said. “Sometimes.”
“I can’t believe that.”
“But you believed everything that Decker told you.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he didn’t try to lie about what he is. He said that everything you told me about him was true. Tell me, Brand, if he has no need to lie about himself, why would he have to lie about you?”
Brand was about to protest when he saw that it would do no good. Josephine finally knew who he was, and what he was.
“Josephine—”
“He also said you killed the sheriff in this room, broke his neck. Is that true?”
Jesus! Brand thought. Had Decker seen that? How was that possible?
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He didn’t deserve to live. He was trying to blackmail me. He tried to shoot Decker in the back, and he killed a whore to try and blame Decker for it.”
