Crow Bait

Fifty-three

Turner let out a breath as Lancaster approached his desk.

“Most days like that?” Lancaster asked.

“Pretty much,” Turner said, “but Atkins is one of the bigger mouths around here. Unfortunately, he’s also one of the richest men.”

“Yeah, well, in my experience those two pretty much go hand in hand.” He stuck out his hand. “Lancaster.”

“Bud Turner,” the man said, shaking his hand. “Thanks for the help.”

“I thought you could’ve handled that character Wiley, but four-to-one odds is too much for any man to have to handle.”

“He would’ve set them on me, too,” Turner said. “They wouldn’t have killed me, but I would have taken a beatin’. Thanks again.”

“Sure thing.”

“Any word on Gerry Beck?” Turner asked, sitting down.

“Well, I did hear that he was headed this way, but he could’ve been here and gone by now. I’m also tracking a man named Sweet.”

“I heard. Somethin’ personal, right?”

Lancaster touched the scar over his eye and said, “That’s right.”

“Won’t let that get in the way of your Wells Fargo business, will you?”

“I’ll do what I’m being paid to do.”

“Speakin’ of which, you think Beck is around here? Or was?”

“Possibly,” Lancaster said. “But I just trailed two men here who may be meeting with Sweet.”

“Any chance Sweet is meetin’ up with Beck—or is that too much of a coincidence?”

“That’s way too big a coincidence for me to even consider,” Lancaster said. “Bad enough I have to deal with the coincidence of both of them even coming here.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“Well, I was going to talk to the local sheriff, but I wanted you to fill me in on him.”

“His name’s Jimmy Jacobs,” Turner said. “Career lawman on the way out. Be sixty next year. I think he’s gonna retire then.”

“Honest?”

“As the day is long.”

“So I can trust what he says?”

“Pretty much, although he may remember you from the old days, given his age.”

“I’ll chance it,” Lancaster said. “If I need it will you vouch for me?”

“Wells Fargo will.”

“Good enough.”

Lancaster stood up.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“When you walked in,” Turner said, “you sized up the situation pretty good.”

“Well,” Lancaster said, “I saw you facing four men, and didn’t think you were threatening them. It wasn’t that hard to pick a side.”

“Well, thanks for pickin’ mine.”

“No problem,” Lancaster said. “If you run into any more trouble while I’m in town, give me a holler and I’ll help if I can.”

“Much obliged,” Turner said.

As Lancaster reached the door, Turner called, “Come by the Red Ribbon Saloon later and I’ll buy you a drink.”

“Red Ribbon?”

“It’s owned by a woman.”

Lancaster nodded and went out.