Crow Bait

Thirty-three

When the sheriff showed up, Lancaster turned Kent over to him. The lawman collected some men and had the body of the dead Tyler carried out of the hotel.

“Looks like you’ll need a new room,” he said to Lancaster after the two men had been removed.

“Looks like.”

“I wouldn’t sleep too sound if I was you, though.”

“Why? You know something I don’t? Anybody else planning to kill me?”

“Not that I know of, but…”

“Don’t worry, Sheriff,” Lancaster said. “I’ll try not to kill anyone else tonight.”

“Yeah, well…I’d be much obliged. You leavin’ tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but not too early. I got some of what I needed, but I hope to get the rest of it tomorrow.”

“Let me know when you’re ridin’ out,” Sheriff Carver said. “Then I can let out the breath that I’ll be holdin’.”

“I’ll do that. I better go down and get another room from the clerk.”

“Just grab any key,” the sheriff said. “They killed the clerk.”

“Sorry to hear it.”

They walked down to the lobby together.

Lancaster woke in his new room the next morning. There was a pitcher and basin balanced on the windowsill, and a wooden chair wedged beneath the doorknob. No one else had tried to break in and kill him during the night.

He dressed and went to Bessie’s to see if they were open for breakfast. They were, and apparently much of the town ate breakfast there. He had a short wait before he was shown to a table. The steak was so good the night before that he ordered steak and eggs.

He was working on his last cup of coffee when something occurred to him. His waitress was young and very pretty, and this was apparently one of the best places to eat in town.

This was Gerry Beck’s kind of place.

“Excuse me,” he said to the waitress as he paid her.

“Yes?”

“What’s your name?”

“Lorna.”

“Lorna, I’m looking for a friend of mine who was supposed to have passed through town in the last few weeks. Maybe you ran into him.”

“Why do you think that?” she asked. “Wouldn’t it be better if you checked with a bartender?”

“No,” he said, “this is the kind of place he would have come. Good food, and a beautiful waitress.”

She blushed. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Actually, she was young and pretty, but that was close enough for Beck.

“Of course I do,” Lancaster said, “and my friend would, too. His name is Gerry…Gerry Beck.”

Her eyes widened. “I know Gerry!”

“You do?”

“He was here for a few days, and he ate here every morning and every night.”

“I thought so,” Lancaster said.

She leaned in and said, in a low voice, “He even asked if he could take me to supper.”

“And did he?”

“No,” she said, as if the very idea was appalling. “He was…too old.”

“He’s my age.”

“Really?” she said. “He looks older.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“But you did talk to him, right?” Lancaster asked.

“Well, of course,” she said. “I had to be polite. My mother is Bessie.”

“Bessie?”

“The owner? I have to be polite to the customers.”

Like now, he thought.

“Well, I’m not gonna take up your time,” he promised. “I just need to catch up to Gerry, and I was wondering if he told you where he was going after here.”

“No.”

“Can you give it some thought—”

“He didn’t tell me exactly where he was going,” she said. “But he did say he was going to Texas.”

“Texas? Texas is a big place, Lorna. Did he tell you where in Texas?”

“He didn’t say where,” she said. “Or I don’t remember. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, so am I,” Lancaster said. He gave her the money for his breakfast and got up to leave. He was about to go out the door when she caught up to him and grabbed his arm.

“The panhandle.”

“What?”

“He said he was heading for the Texas panhandle. Does that help?”

“Yes, Lorna,” he said, “that helps a lot. Thank you.”

The panhandle.

If Beck had said that to anyone but a young, pretty girl, Lancaster would have discounted it. Beck only lied to young women when he knew he was staying in town. So mentioning to Lorna that he was headed for the Texas panhandle was probably true.

Now all Lancaster had to do was get a lead on one of the other three—whichever of them came here to Henderson.

He had planned to check the whorehouse for Gerry Beck, but now that he’d found Lorna that wasn’t necessary. On the other hand, Sweet or one of the others might have needed a whore, too. Lots of men did when they came in off the trail.

So he headed for the whorehouse.