Leaving Epitaph: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

70

Upstairs, Aaron Langer was too busy continuing to satisfy a Herculean appetite for both whiskey and sex to hear anything from downstairs. The saddlebags full of money were hanging on the bedpost, along with his gun belt. Trudy was sitting on top of him, dangling her big breasts in his face and pouring whiskey from the bottle into his mouth. When the door slammed open from a vicious kick, Aaron bucked Trudy off so hard she fell from the bed. He sat up and started reaching for his gun, but stopped when he saw Shaye standing in the doorway.

“Daniels,” he said. “I knew it was you.”

“It’s Dan,” Shaye said, “Sheriff Dan Shaye, of Epitaph, Texas.”

“Yeah, I know,” Aaron said. He looked at the naked woman cowering on the floor. “You sort of caught me in the middle of somethin’.”

“Careless of you, Aaron,” Shaye said. “I don’t remember you being this careless.” He looked at the woman too. “Get your clothes and get out.”

Now that the shooting had not started right away, Trudy got sort of brave. “He ain’t paid me!”

“You’ll be paid,” Shaye said. “Go downstairs and wait.”

“But he—”

“Go!”

She gathered her clothes up and started to put them on hastily as she ran out the door.

“I didn’t even know she wanted to be paid,” Aaron said. “I thought she liked me.”

“Nobody’s ever liked you, Aaron.”

“Yeah, maybe not…why didn’t you come in shootin’, Daniels?”

“It’s Dan!”

“Okay, okay…Dan.”

“I knew the girl was in here.”

“You ain’t even got your gun out,” Aaron said. “I figure I got more than an even chance here.”

“Make a move, then.”

Aaron seemed to relax. “Let’s talk a bit,” he said. “Catch up on old times.”

“There’s no old times to catch up on between you and me, Aaron,” Shaye said. “Your brother came to my town, robbed the bank, and killed my wife.”

“Your wife?” Aaron asked, surprised. “Jesus, he’s a bigger idiot than I thought, but what’s that got to do with me?”

“He learned everything he knows from you.”

“You got deputies with you, Shay—Sheriff? You had some in Salina, I bet.”

“My sons,” Shaye said. “Three of them.”

“Where are they now?”

“They’re tracking Ethan.”

“So you came for me alone?”

“That’s right.”

“I’m sorry about your wife, Sheriff,” Aaron said, “but I still don’t think that had nothin’ to do with me. By the way, what happened to Morales? You kill him?”

“That’s right.”

“Too bad,” Aaron said. “Me and him rode together a long time. I thought you and me were gonna ride together a long time, once.”

“I got smart.”

“That’s what you call it,” Aaron said. “Wearin’ a badge for forty a month and found don’t strike me as a smart move. Musta been your wife’s idea.”

“Don’t talk about my wife.”

“You ain’t married no more, Dan,” Aaron said, “you’re a widower now. Toss the badge out the window. I got enough money in these saddlebags for two.”

“No deal, Aaron.”

“You takin’ me in?”

“I doubt it.”

“Gonna kill me for what my brother did?”

“Why not?”

“You got to be a hard man, didn’t you?”

“Not so hard,” Shaye said, “until lately.”

“Yeah,” Aaron said, scratching his hairy chest, “losin’ a wife’ll do that to ya, I guess.”

“Enough talk, Aaron.”

“Whataya want me to do? Go for my gun while my gun belt is on the bedpost?”

“That’s better than the alternative.”

“Which is what?”

“I shoot you right where you are.”

“How would that look? An officer of the law shootin’ a man while he’s naked in bed?”

“I’ll put your gun in your dead hand,” Shaye said. “It won’t make a difference, though. You’ll still be dead.”

Aaron’s face went dead as he realized Shaye meant it.

“You’re the one who said you had a better than even chance,” Shaye reminded him.

“I hope my brother kills your sons,” Aaron said cruelly, “and I hope his horse caved in your wife’s—”

Shaye drew, surprising Aaron, who thought he’d be able to throw the man off so he could beat him to the draw. Suddenly panicked, Aaron grabbed for his gun. He didn’t know that Shaye let him get to it, allowed him to draw it before he fired his first shot. The bullet hit Aaron in the side as he was still twisted around from reaching for the gun. He grunted, but he was a bull of a man and it would take more than one shot to put him down. He kept coming around, gun in hand, and Shaye fired again. This time the bullet took him under the chin, and there was no need for a third shot.

Shaye came downstairs with both sets of saddlebags on his shoulders.

“He dead?” Ed asked.

Shaye walked to Trudy, who was dressed but disheveled. He’d already taken some money from the saddlebags upstairs, and now he shoved it into her hands. It was two handfuls and he didn’t even know how much he was giving her.

“That cover the day?” he asked.

“Thanks, mister.”

He headed for the door.

“Hey,” Ed shouted, “is he dead?”

Shaye kept going. He figured if he got a fresh horse from the livery and rode all night, he could get back to James by tomorrow afternoon. If he didn’t kill the horse, maybe late afternoon. As long as James didn’t try to move, he was probably fine.

But there was still Thomas and Matthew to worry about.

“Hey,” the bartender shouted, “if he’s dead, you can’t just leave ’im there.”

Shaye was already outside so nobody in the saloon heard him say, “Just watch me.”