“Have you got any money?’ Petry asked.
“Wha—No, I ain’t got any money.”
“Anybody else here got any money?” Petry asked.
All of the men shook their heads.
“Do you know why you ain’t got any money?”
“’Cause Ethan’s got it all,” Bates said. “He’s got the money from the bank job.”
“Right,” Petry said. “So what are any of you gonna do in Oklahoma City without money? You sure ain’t gonna get any of them women Bates was talkin’ about to look at you without any money. So what’s the point of anybody else goin’ into town?”
“Ethan’s goin’ into town!” somebody said.
“He’s got a reason.”
“What reason?’
“He don’t gotta tell us that,” Petry said, “’cause he’s the boss. Any of you wanna question him on it personal, be my guest.”
The men exchanged looks and shook their heads. Nobody there wanted to take on Ethan Langer.
Horse saddled and ready, Ethan waited a few more moments while Petry finished with the men. Terry Petry had been riding with him for several years now. He’d worked his way up to number two—his
As soon as he did find a good replacement, he probably would kill Petry. The man was getting too comfortable in his position—although he had just handled the men pretty well.
Ethan took his horse’s reins and walked the animal over to where all the men had gathered.
“Anybody got anything to say?”
The men all shook their heads.
“Well, I got somethin’ to say. I’m leavin’ the money behind with Petry. If I come back and find it gone, you’ll have to deal not only with me, but with my brother. And don’t think we won’t find you.”
Ethan took the two sets of saddlebags filled with money from his saddle and handed them to Petry.
“I know exactly how much money is in there,” he said. “If there’s a dollar missin’, I’ll find out who took it and I’ll kill him. Do you all understand?”
“Don’t worry, Ethan,” Petry said, with the saddlebags over his shoulders. “They understand.”
Ethan turned and looked directly at Petry. “Do you understand, Terry?”
“Sure I do, Ethan,” the man said, almost indignantly. “You know you can count on me.”
“I don’t even want anybody opening these saddlebags to take a look,” Ethan said.
“Nobody’s gonna touch ’em, Ethan,” Petry said. “I swear.”
Ethan switched his gaze back to the men, many of whom were staring at the saddlebags and licking their lips. “I got one other thing to say.”
They all looked at him.
“I see any man in town, I’ll kill him on the spot, no questions asked. Got it?”
The men nodded that they had it.
Ethan mounted his horse and looked down at them.
“This is gonna be an important test for all of you,” Ethan said. “It’ll prove your loyalty to both me and my brother.” He looked at Petry. “I’ll be back before nightfall.”
“Don’t worry,” Petry said. “We’ll all be here and so will the money.”
“I hope so, Terry,” Ethan said. “For everybody’s sake.”
28
That same morning, two days behind, Dan Shaye woke all three of his sons for breakfast. He had made a full pot of coffee, but it was James’s job to actually make breakfast.
Shaye was amazed at how he and his sons were getting along with each other. He knew they all had heavy hearts—no, broken hearts—and he knew they were all filled with anger, but never had that anger spilled over onto each other. Even now, as he watched the three boys picking on each other the way brothers did, he was amazed at their good humor—and at his own.
None of them had been able to mourn yet. That would come later, after the rage was expiated, after the thirst for vengeance was quenched. Once that was done, the emptiness would come, and the tears. Until then he hoped that Mary was looking down at their boys with as much pride as he was.
“Breakfast, Pa!” James called out.
“I’m coming.”
Matthew and Thomas saddled the horses while James and Shaye broke camp.
“Can I ask you somethin’, Pa?” James asked.
“Always, James,” Shaye said, hoping that James’s question would be easier to answer than Thomas’s last one about being special had been.
“What would Ma think of what we’re doin’?”
Shaye sighed. Apparently, his sons were not going to come up with simple questions. “Well, James,” he said honestly, “I don’t think she’d approve very much.”
“Of any of it?”
“No,” Shaye said. “She’d approve of me doing my job and trying to get the bank’s money back. She would not approve of what I intend to do when I catch up to the Langer gang.”
“Kill them?”
“Right. She also would not approve of my taking you boys along with me.”
“We got a right.”
“She’d probably agree with that part,” Shaye said. “Just not with me putting you in danger.”
“But you ain’t puttin’ us in danger,” James said. “We’re here to watch each other’s backs, right? To keep each other safe?”
Shaye finished stomping out the fire and turned to face his youngest son.
“I can’t lie to you, James,” he said. “We’re here to kill the men who killed your ma. At least, that’s what I’m here to do.”
“Us too.”
“No,” Shaye said, “it’s not the same for you boys as it is for me.”
“She was our ma!” James snapped, his face growing red the way his mother’s used to when she lost her temper. “We got a right to—”
“Simmer down,” Shaye said. “You don’t understand. Of course you have a right to come along, but I’m the one who’s going to kill them. I’m going to kill Ethan Langer, and probably his brother too. But in the eyes of the law, I might be doing wrong.”
“I don’t understand.”
“What if we catch up to them and they give up?” Shaye asked. “They surrender. What if they’d rather go to jail than resist and possibly die?”
James looked confused. He didn’t have any answers. “Would you still kill them, Pa?”
“Yes, James, I would, and I will.”
“But…wouldn’t that be murder?”
“In the eyes of the law, yes it would be,” Shaye said. “But James, murder is what I’ve been planning ever since we left Epitaph.”
