Leaving Epitaph (15 page)

“So you’ve got a posse with you?” Sheriff Holcomb asked Thomas hopefully.

“Not exactly.”

“Got one comin’ behind you.” Holcomb began to pace the length of his office.

“No,” Thomas said. “I’ve got three men waitin’ for me just outside of town. My father is the sheriff of Epitaph, me and my brothers are his deputies.”

“Sheriff Shaye?” Holcomb asked.

“That’s right.”

“So there’s only four of you?”

“That’s right.”

“And you’re after these two gangs?”

“It’s one gang,” Thomas said, “run by two brothers.”

“Wait a minute.” The lawman stopped pacing and faced Thomas. “Are we talkin’ about…the Langer gang?”

“That’s right.”

“Oh my God,” Holcomb said. “I should have guessed. The leader of the first group…he must have been Aaron.”

“I guess,” Thomas said. “We’ve been trailing Ethan Langer and his men.”

“All the way from Texas?” Holcomb asked. “Because of a…a bank job?”

“Not just a bank robbery,” Thomas said. “They killed a woman…my mother.”

“Oh,” Holcomb said. “Well…I guess that’s worth travelin’ all this way.”

“Are they all here?”

“I guess,” Holcomb replied. “Like I said, eighteen, maybe nineteen. How many hit your bank?”

“About eight, maybe nine.”

“So four of you tracking eight. I guess the odds didn’t seem so bad then.”

“How many deputies have you got?”

“Two.”

“So now it’s seven against nineteen,” Thomas said.

“Not so good, eh?”

“I guess not,” Thomas said with a shrug, “but we’ve got somethin’ they don’t.”

“What’s that?”

“My pa.”

James came up next to Shaye and handed him a cup of coffee. “Worried about Thomas, Pa?”

“Yeah, I am, James.”

They had camped about half an hour before, and James was making them something to eat. The coffee was ready first. They’d made good time and had managed to camp before dark.

Shaye was standing away from the fire, looking off in the direction of town.

“He’ll be okay, Pa,” James said. “Thomas is smart.”

“Yes, he is.”

“And he’s good with a gun.”

Shaye turned to look at his youngest son. “He’s good at shooting at tin cans and bottles, James,” he said, “and varmints. He’s never had to face another man with a gun. None of you has.”

“But we’re gonna have to, ain’t we?”

“Yes,” Shaye said, “yes, it’s unavoidable…unless we just quit and go back.”

“We can’t do that, Pa,” James said. “Not after what they did to Ma. We can’t! Matthew and Thomas, they’ll tell you the same thing.”

Shaye hesitated a moment, then said, “Yeah, I know they would.”

“Pa,” James said, “you told us we couldn’t think about this too much. Don’t you start doing it.”

“You’re right, James,” Shaye said. “Thank you.”

“I better get the food ready,” James said. “Matthew’ll just burn it all up.”

“Okay.”

James went back to the fire, and Shaye went back to staring off into the distance, waiting for some sign of Thomas.

“So what do you plan to do?” Holcomb asked, looking out his window. It was starting to get dark.

“I have to ride out and get my pa and my brothers,” Thomas said. “We’ll come back under cover of darkness.”

“And then what?”

“Then it’s up to you and my pa,” Thomas said. “You’re in charge here, but I think if you listen to my pa, everything’ll go okay.”

Holcomb hesitated.

“They probably won’t do anythin’ tonight,”
Thomas said. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“All right,” Holcomb said. “I’ll wait here.”

“Pull your men in,” Thomas suggested.

“Why?”

“It’ll make them think they’re in the clear. Give them a false sense of security.”

“A false sense of security?” Holcomb asked. “With their numbers, I don’t think it’s so false.”

“My pa will figure out somethin’, Sheriff,” Thomas said. “Just pull your men in and wait for us here.”

“Okay, Deputy,” Holcomb said, “okay. We’ll wait for you and your father and your brothers here, but I hope you’re right about your father comin’ up with somethin’.”

“Don’t worry, Sheriff,” Thomas said, “he will.”

Shaye was the first one to hear the horse, and he looked up from his plate.

“It’s Thomas, Pa!” Matthew said.

Both James and Matthew started to rise but Shaye waved them down and stood himself, his hand on his gun.

“Let’s make sure,” he said. “Just be still.”

They both settled back down, their hands on their guns, like their father. The sound of the horse came closer, and then Thomas came bursting into the light of their campfire, his horse kicking up dust as he reined it in.

“They’re there, Pa!” he said excitedly. “They’re all there.”

James and Matthew jumped up and joined their father in rushing to Thomas’s side.

“Calm down, Thomas,” Shaye said, “and tell me everything.”

“What are we waitin’ for, Aaron?” Ethan demanded after his brother had kept him talking for hours. The other men in the saloon were wondering the same thing. “Let’s compare our hauls and get the split done.”

Ethan reached for the saddlebags, but Aaron slammed a big hand down on them.

“We’ll do the tally and the split when I say so,” he hissed at his brother. “You’ve got somethin’ on your mind, somethin’ botherin’ you, and I wanna know what it is!”

They had finished the bottle of whiskey and started on another one. Morales was the only one in the room who knew that the brothers’ capacity for liquor knew no bounds. The others thought the two of them would get so drunk they wouldn’t be able to tally until tomorrow. In fact, Branch had sent one of Ethan’s men out to get them hotel rooms. Now it was pitch-black
out and they were all still there, with two men sitting outside.

At least, the deputy on watch across the street had been pulled off, Morales thought. Now the brothers had their heads together across the table and no one could hear them.

“Tell me what’s botherin’ you, Ethan,” Aaron said. “You look like you ain’t slept in days.”

Ethan tried to match his brother’s glare, but as usual, he was unable to. “Aaron—”

“We ain’t leavin’ this saloon tonight until I find out what’s goin’ on,” Aaron said. “You killed Petry! That’s crazy. What else have you done?”

Ethan stared at Aaron, wet his lips and said, “I went to see Vincent.”

“So you got the sheriff to pull his men in and wait?” Shaye asked. “That was good work.”

“It wasn’t hard, Pa,” Thomas said. “He really doesn’t know what to do.”

They had listened to what Thomas had to say and then broke camp and headed for Salina. Shaye was riding alongside Thomas, with James and Matthew behind them.

“He’s only got two deputies.”

“Maybe he can round up some more men when we get there,” Shaye said.

“Yeah,” James said from behind him, “maybe the people in Salina care more than the people in Epitaph did.”

Shaye found that a remarkably bitter statement to be coming from his youngest son.

“I guess we’ll find out when we get there,” he said.

They rode into town as quietly as they could, with Thomas leading them around back behind the sheriff’s office. They dismounted and knocked on the back door.

One of the deputies let them in. “This way,” he said, and led them through the cell block to the office, where two more men with badges were waiting for them.

“Sheriff,” Thomas said, “this is my father, Sheriff Shaye. Pa, that’s Sheriff Holcomb.”

Holcomb came across the room to shake hands with Shaye. “Pleased to meet you,” he said. “Your son seems to have a lot of faith in you.”

“Well,” Shaye said, “I hope it’s well-placed.”

“So do I,” Sheriff Holcomb said. “These are my deputies, Ray and Will.”

“My other sons, James and Matthew.”

The men shook hands all around.

“Are they still in the saloon?” Shaye asked.

“The saloon’s down the street but you can see it from here,” Holcomb said, moving to the window. “They haven’t moved.”

“You’d think they’d have done their tally and split by now,” Shaye said, standing beside Holcomb and peering out. “Is there a back way in?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s dark,” Shaye said, “but looks like they have two men sitting out front.”

“Ever since they got here,” Holcomb said, “except for when your boy rode into town.”

Shaye turned away from the window.

“How do you want to play this?” Holcomb asked.

“It’s your town,” Shaye said. “Can you get some more men?”

“This time of night I’d say no,” Holcomb said. “Actually, any time of day I’d say no. The whole town knows that these men rode in today, and they got off the streets fast.”

“So they figure this is your job, huh?”

“That’s right.”

“What do we do, Pa?” Matthew asked.

“Making a move at night could be good for us, Pa,” Thomas said. “We can use the dark.”

“Anybody else got any ideas?” Shaye asked.

“Your boy here said you’d know what to do, Sheriff Shaye,” Holcomb said, and then stopped and stared at Shaye for a moment. “Wait a minute.”

“What is it?” Shaye asked, but he thought he knew.

“Shaye?”

“That’s right.”

“Aren’t you…Shay Daniels?”

“It’s Sheriff Dan Shaye.”

“I know you!”

“Sheriff—”

“Shay Daniels!” Holcomb turned to his two deputies. “You fellas know the name Shay Daniels, right?”

“Sounds familiar,” Will said, but Ray shook his head and asked, “Who is he?”

“He’s Shay Daniels,” Holcomb said, looking back at Shaye.

“Sheriff,” Shaye said, “there was a time in my life when that was my name, but that really doesn’t matter now, does it?”

“It sure does,” Holcomb said. “I wasn’t sure what your boy meant when he said we had somethin’ they didn’t—meanin’ you—but now I do.” He turned and looked at his deputies. “Boys, we got a real Kansas legend on our hands, here. Back in the seventies there wasn’t no one quicker with a gun in these parts—hell, Missouri neither—than Shay Daniels.”

Thomas, James, and Matthew stared at their father. If what Sheriff Holcomb was saying was true, then he hadn’t been quite as truthful with them as he indicated.

“Now, wait,” Shaye said, “that stuff is just reputation. You can’t believe everything you hear—”

“I saw you!” Holcomb said suddenly, pointing at Shaye. “I just remembered, I saw you in St. Joe. You outdrew three men in the street, and they was pretty good gun hands. Wait, I’ll remember who they were….”

“Never happened,” Shaye said. “You’re mix
ing me up with someone else, or you’re remembering wrong. Can we get back to what we’re supposed to be doing here?”

“Okay,” Holcomb said, “but it’ll come to me. Okay, you take the lead, Daniels, and we’ll follow.”

“It’s Dan,” Shaye said, “or Sheriff. Don’t call me Daniels!”

His three sons were shocked at their father’s vehemence, as were the local lawmen.

“Okay, okay,” Holcomb said, moving his hands in a placating gesture. “Sorry. But you call the tune…Sheriff Shaye…and we’ll dance to it.”

“A dream?” Aaron asked.

“That’s right.”

“A bad dream?”

“Yeah.”

Ethan was waiting for the humiliation. The sooner it started, the sooner it would be over and they could get to the tally.

“About the woman?”

“Yeah, Aaron,” Ethan said, “about the woman.”

“What is she doin’?” Aaron asked. “In the dream, I mean.”

“Screamin’.”

Aaron sat back and stared across the table at his brother. The others in the room drank, or ate, or sighed, or just plain waited. No one had the nerve to ask any questions.

Ethan sat and waited for his brother’s abuse.

“And you thought you could talk to Vincent about this, and not me?” Aaron asked.

“Uh…” This was not the question Ethan had anticipated. He’d expected a lot of others, but not that one.

Aaron looked around the room, and everyone he looked at contrived to be looking somewhere else.

“Morales!”

Morales came over, carrying a beer. “
Jefe
?”

“Keep everyone here,” Aaron said. “My brother and I are gonna go and talk in a room upstairs.”

“Should I hold onto the money?” Morales asked.

“No,” Aaron said, “we’ll be taking that with us. I just don’t want anyone goin’ anywhere. Understand?”

“Sí.”

Ethan didn’t understand, but he never questioned his brother either—not when he was looking this serious.

“Branch?”

“Yeah, boss.”

Ethan turned his head and looked at his
segundo
, leaning against the bar. “Come over here.”

“Oh, sure boss.” Branch came over.

“Aaron and I are goin’ to a room upstairs to talk,” Ethan said. “Keep the men here.”

“Right. Gonna do the tally upstairs?”

Ethan ignored the question. “Just keep everyone here.”

“Okay, boss.”

Aaron and Ethan picked up their saddlebags and went upstairs to look over the rooms.

“First,” Shaye said to Holcomb, “do you have any more deputy badges?”

“Two more.”

“Give them to two of my sons,” Shaye said.

“What for?”

“Cover,” Shaye said, “in case they’re seen. I don’t want them walking around with Texas badges on.”

Holcomb handed two of his badges to James and Matthew, who removed theirs and replaced them with the local ones. They put their own badges in their shirt pockets. Thomas had removed his earlier, and Shaye removed his now.

“Now what?” Holcomb asked.

“We should make a move while they’re all in one place,” Shaye said. “If we do this right, we should be able to get the drop on them and surround them.”

“The seven of us,” Holcomb asked, “surround nineteen men?”

“It can be done,” Shaye said. “We just have to time it right. Have your deputies used their guns?”

“Yes.”

“On other men?”

“A time or two, yes,” Holcomb said.

“Killed anyone?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Shaye said, “my boys haven’t either, so this might be a first for them.”

“Not for me,” the sheriff said, “or you either.”

“No.”

They both looked at the other young men in the room.

“Is everybody ready for this?” Holcomb asked.

“I’m ready,” Will said.

“Me too,” Ray echoed.

“Your boys?” Holcomb asked Shaye.

“I don’t have to ask them,” Shaye said. “They’re ready.”

“So how do we go about this?”

“Tell me about the saloon,” Shaye said. “You already told me about the back door. What other ways in and out…”

When they chose a room with a couple of poker tables instead of beds, Ethan closed the door, turned and walked into his brother’s right fist. He went flying over one of the tables, his saddlebags of cash falling to the floor. Aaron picked them up and tossed them onto the other table with his bags, then walked over to his fallen brother.

“Wha—” Ethan said, but Aaron didn’t let him get the question out. He hauled him to his feet and held him there a moment.

“That was for pickin’ Vincent over me,” he said.

“Aaron—”

His brother silenced him by hitting him again, but he held the front of his shirt with his other hand to keep him from falling.

“That’s for killin’ that woman when you didn’t have to,” he said. “You’ll probably bring a posse down on us for that.”

“I didn’t—”

Aaron hit him again, and let him fall. When Ethan hit the floor, he lay still, but was still conscious.

“And that’s for bein’ a damned baby about killin’ the woman and havin’ bad dreams about it,” Aaron said, leaning over Ethan. “I should hit you twice for that, but I’m lumpin’ them together.”

Ethan’s eyes fluttered but stayed open. Eventually he focused on Aaron’s face.

“Did you hear me?” Aaron asked.

“I heard you,” Ethan said. He extended his arm. “Help me up, damn it.”

Aaron reached down, grabbed his brother’s hand, and pulled him to his feet. As Ethan came up, he balled up his left fist and hit Aaron in the face with it.

Downstairs, the men heard the commotion above them, and looked at Morales and Branch to see if
they should do anything. Both men simply stood at the bar drinking their beer.

“Think Ethan is fightin’ back?” Branch asked.

Morales swallowed the last of his beer before answering, put the mug on the bar for the bartender to refill. “If he is, it’ll be the first time in his life.”

“Would Aaron kill him for that?”

Morales accepted the full mug from the barman and drank a third of it before answering.

“He would probably respect him for it,” he said, “and that would also be a first.”