Leaving Epitaph: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

7

When Dan Shaye entered the sheriff’s office, the man behind the desk looked up from the wanted posters he was studying, frowned just for a moment, then smiled and stood up.

“Dan Shaye!” Sam Torrence said, extending his hand. “What the hell are you doing in Vernon? I didn’t think you ever left South Texas anymore.”

“Hello, Sam,” Shaye said. He approached the desk and shook hands with the tall, slender man whose hair had gone completely gray since the last time Shaye had seen him.

“It’s good to see you, Dan,” Torrence said. “What brings you my way?”

“The Langer gang.”

“I heard they hit a bank down south,” Torrence said. “That was you?”

Shaye nodded, then said, “They killed my wife during their escape.”

“Ah, Jesus…” Torrence’s face went pale. “Mary…”

“Rode her down in the street, Sam.”

“Christ,” Torrence said. “Sit down, Dan. I was gonna offer you some coffee but this is better.”

He brought a bottle of whiskey out of his desk drawer, then fetched two coffee cups from the potbellied stove in the corner. He poured a shot into each and handed one to Shaye.

“Here’s to Mary,” he said.

“To Mary.”

They both drank, and when Torrence reached across the desk to pour again, Shaye placed his cup on the desk, upside down.

“One’s enough for me.”

“Not for me,” Torrence said. He poured another shot and downed it. “You on their trail?”

Shaye nodded.

“With a posse.”

“My boys.”

“Your…”

“Sons,” Shaye said. “Three of ’em.”

“That’s right,” Torrence said, snapping his fingers, “I knew you and Mary had three sons. How old are they?”

“Twenty-five, twenty-three, and nineteen. I deputized them.”

“Are they experienced?”

“No,” Shaye said, “but I had no choice. No one else volunteered, my deputies quit. Besides, they deserve to come. Langer and his boys killed their ma.”

“We’re talkin’ about Ethan Langer, right?”

“Yeah,” Shaye said. “Aaron hit a bank in South Dakota about the same time.”

“So you’re trackin’ them north…through here?”

“You tell me, Sam.”

Torrence sat back in his chair, which creaked. “They ain’t been through here, Dan,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d know if they had.”

Shaye stood up. “We’ll be here overnight, Sam, and then we’ll be moving out. If you have anything you want to tell me, you’ll be able to find me.”

“Dan,” Torrence said, “I’m tellin’ you—”

“It’s good to see you, Sam.”

Shaye turned and walked out of the office. He knew that Torrence’s eyes were on his back. He stopped just outside the door, in case the other lawman came after him right away.

The last time Shaye saw Torrence had been years ago, before he moved on to wear the sheriff’s badge in Epitaph. They had both been in Wichita, and Shaye had caught Torrence with his hand out. All these years later there was no reason to think the man had changed. A lawman with his hand out could live very well, and Shaye had the feeling Torrence was doing all right for himself in Vernon. However, if he had taken a dime from Ethan Langer and was covering up for him, he would regret it.