“No, it’s okay. I’m curious. If you were in my position, what would you do?”
“Oh, you know me. I don’t like to give my opinion about these sorts of things,” she said, almost singing and reminding him of Edith from the Archie Bunker TV show he watched as a kid. She would talk in a happy flighty kind of voice, but occasionally lay down the hammer out of nowhere.
“I would like to know what you think,” the Judge repeated.
“Well, okay, sir,” she replied, looking around the room and lowering her voice. “You and the Sheriff used to be a team of sorts, but you always had the final say. Everyone in town respected you, and this courthouse meant something. Now things are different somehow, and people are saying you’ve lost your gavel. I, of course, would never agree, but that’s what they are saying around town… What would I do?” she asked, lowering her voice even more. “If I were you, I would take back my town by any means necessary. It’s you or him now, but it can’t be both. If you will excuse me, I really should be going.”
“Of course, and we can keep this between us?” the Sheriff asked.
“I always do, Your Honor.”
* * * *
Sheriff Johnson set a timeline and met briefly with the ramp architect and men constructing the landing ramp.
“I want this project complete by the end of day Thursday, in case we need to make any last-minute adjustments,” he told them.
He had a meeting set in the morning with two men from the reenactment club, who he met at church. Of course, he realized he might not get everything he wanted weapon-wise, but he would have to make do with what was available.
There was only one thing left to do today, and he couldn’t wait to deliver the news. He entered the jailhouse and sat quietly at his desk. He knew his prisoners could hear him, but they hadn’t said a word.
“Ken,” he called out.
“Yes, sir,” came the immediate reply.
“I have good news. The ramp will be completed by the end of Thursday, and we can inspect it then. You will jump this coming Saturday afternoon at 4:15, rain or shine.
“Thank you. That is good news,” Ken replied, now being able to count down the days until his release, and hoping for good weather.
“Richard, I have good news for you as well.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied. “What’s the news?”
“You will fight right after Ken’s jump, also on Saturday.”
Richard was excited by this news, because he figured that with no opponent he would just be killed without an opportunity to win.
“You found a challenger?”
“Yes, I did.” Sheriff Johnson paused, reveling in the moment. The awkward silence before the storm was more than he could have asked for.
“Your opponent, Richard,” he said, pausing again... Wait for it, he whispered to himself… Wait for it… “Your opponent is right across the hall, in the other cell.”
There was silence for a few seconds, as all present processed the information, realizing it wasn’t Ken but the other man, the one who shot James.
The Sheriff waited, standing in the opened front door when it started.
“Now wait just a damn minute! I never agreed to that!” cried out the man across the hall. “You can’t just go and make me...”
“Someone will be by later with your dinner,” the Sheriff called out, closing and locking the door behind him.
He smiled as he walked home, playing the conversation over in his mind.
Telling his girlfriend what happened, they both laughed. “Now,” she said, getting his focus back and pulling out a spiral notebook with paragraphs listed, one to six, “we need to discuss the Judge.
“Starting with the obvious at number one, this town is not big enough for two men who both want to be in charge. Next, there are only two choices.
“Choice one: he leaves town and goes somewhere, anywhere, else.
“Choice two: you kill him. I would prefer he leave town, but I’m not going to lose any sleep either way,” she added.
“Moving on to point number three. A girlfriend of mine was over earlier today for a glass or two of wine and told me something very interesting about the trade days last week. She said she could swear seeing the Judge buy a pistol of some sort from one of the vendors. Said he looked nervous and tried to hide it in a bag. When she asked the vendor about it later, he told her he didn’t know anything about it.
“Now, why would he buy a pistol right after things had changed with you unless he didn’t already own one? Does he?”
“Well, I don’t know,” replied the Sheriff. “I just always assumed he did, but now that I think about it, I don’t remember him ever bringing it up.”
“Regardless, he has one now, we can be pretty sure,” she continued. “Both of you are trying to get James on your side—as well as Jason, who will tag along either way. Now you’re making decisions without him and you’re jumping his courthouse without asking. He’s probably pretty pissed off right now.”
* * * *
As she spoke, Judge Lowry was having four cases of James’ moonshine, that had been stacked in his office, delivered to the Sheriff’s top four deputies.
The card read “Thank you, boys, for keeping my town safe. The Sheriff and I could never do it without you. Have a drink on me—Judge Lowry.”
* * * * * * *
Chapter Twenty-six
Raton Pass, New Mexico
Hudson, Jax and Hendrix were happy to have me back, and I
