“Just take care of your guy, Luke,” Butler said, “and try not to kill him.”
“You know, I really think that’s going to be up to him.”
Luke Short left the bar and made his way across the saloon floor, pretty much retracing Tim Doocey’s steps.
Butler stepped to the front of the saloon and peered out a window. He saw two men waiting together, didn’t see the third. That was okay, he had to trust the third to Luke Short. His job was these two.
He took his gun out, checked it, and slid it back into the holster, testing it to see if it would come out easily. Butler knew his real skill was with cards, but he knew he could handle himself with a gun. If these two men were out to ambush him, they were going to be pretty shocked when he came out the batwing doors facing them.
The outcome was going to rely solely on how they reacted.
He waited the full five minutes before walking to the front doors.
Trusting that Luke Short would be where he said he was going to be, Butler walked through the batwing doors. He turned quickly to face the two men who—as he hoped and half expected—seemed completely shocked.
“I think you boys are out here waiting for me,” he said.
CHAPTER 51
“What the fuck—” Randolph said.
“Jesus!” Spills shouted, startled.
Both of them tried to look past Butler at Andy Dennis, but he was nowhere to be found.
“Crap,” Randolph said.
He probably would have lived had his partner Spills not panicked and gone for his gun. Butler had no time to differentiate between who was going to shoot and who wasn’t. He drew his own gun, shot Spills first. Randolph was saying, “No, no, no wait,” even as he tried to draw his own gun. Butler wasted no time shooting him in the chest, knocking him off the boardwalk and into the street.
He turned quickly to see where the third man was. At that moment Luke Short stepped from the alley with a man at the point of his gun.
“This one gave up his gun pretty easily,” Short announced. The gun in question had been tucked into Short’s belt.
“You sneaked up on me like an injun,” the man complained. “Gimme my gun and face me and we’ll see who’s still standin’.”
“Sorry, friend,” Short said. “I sneaked up on you to save your life. We need to ask you some questions.”
“I ain’t answerin’ no questions,” Dennis said. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on. Me and my friends was just standin’ out here mindin’ our own business when you and him,” he pointed to Butler, “come out blastin’. You killed my friends. Where’s the law?”
“We’re the only law you have to worry about,” Butler said.
“You can’t do that.”
“Yeah, we can,” Short said. He looked past the man at Butler. “Should we take him inside?”
“I don’t know,” Butler said, scratching his chin with his gunsight. “If we take him inside we can’t ever let him out again. We’ll have to question him, and then kill him.”
“What the hell—” Andy Dennis said. “Whataya talkin’ about? Why do you got to kill me?”
“Well,” Butler said, “maybe we don’t have to.”
“Maybe,” Short said, from behind the man, “we just want to.”
“Jesus—” Dennis said.
“You got two choices,” Butler said. “Answer questions out here and live—”
“—or go inside and die,” Short said.
Andy Dennis took a deep breath, then asked, “Whataya wanna know?”
By the time they got their questions answered, Sheriff Jim Courtwright had arrived on the scene.
“Now you’ve done it, Short,” he announced. “Shootin’ men down in the street.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Sheriff,” Butler said, “but Luke never fired a shot.”
“Huh?”
“I killed these jaspers,” Butler said. “They tried to rob me as I came out of the saloon.”
“The hell you say?” Courtwright shot back. “You coverin’ for Short, Butler?”
“Just ask this fella,” Butler said, pointing to Andy Dennis, whose gun—albeit unloaded—was back in his holster. “He was just passing by and saw the whole thing.”
Courtwright glared at Dennis.
“What’ve you got to say?”
“It’s like he said, Sheriff,” Andy Dennis said, “they tried to rob him and he got the best of them.”
“And what’re you doin’ out here, Short?” Courtwright demanded.
“I heard the shootin’ and came out to see if I could help, Sheriff. That’s all.”
Courtwright studied the three men intensely, then looked at the two men on the ground. They could see he was torn. He turned to the two deputies standing behind him.
“Get rid of these bodies.”
“Yes, sir.”
Courtwright looked at Short.
“The bartender at Cramer’s place was killed just the way he was.”
“I’ve got an alibi,” Short said. “I was here with a saloon full of people.”
“How do you know when it happened?”
“It’s all over the street, Sheriff,” Short said. “Everyone knows.”
Courtwright said, “I ain’t done with you, yet.” Then turned to Butler. “You, neither.” He looked at Dennis, said nothing, then turned and stormed away.
“Can I go now?” Dennis asked. “I backed up your story, and told you what you wanted to know.”
“Yes, you did,” Short said. “You can go as long as you know if we ever see you again, we’ll kill you. Got it?”
“I got it,” Dennis said, and slunk away.
“He’s going to have to get out of town before Sutherland can kill him, too,” Butler said.
“Sutherland won’t have a chance,” Short said, “because we’re going to take care of him first.”
CHAPTER 52
Luke Short and Butler went to Al Newman’s house and, right on the doorstep, Butler said, “Send your message to Sutherland. Tell him to meet you at that saloon on the docks. It’s as good a place as any.”
“All right,” Newman said. “When?”
“Tomorrow,” Short said. “Make it noon. It’ll give us time to get down there and set up.”
“Set up?”
“We’re going to try to take him alive,” Short said, “so he can clear me.”
“All right,” Newman said. “I’ll get it sent over right away.”
“Good,” Short said. “Thanks.”
“Uh, has something happened since we met last?” Newman asked.
“No,” Short said, “nothing special.”
They had found out what they wanted to know from Andy Dennis—that it was Sutherland who sent the three of them to kill Butler.
