Pearl River Junction: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

33

Vic Delay didn’t like Jeb Collier, but he saw in Jeb something that Collier didn’t even see in himself: a killer. In that way he felt that he and Jeb Collier were kindred spirits. So when he got the telegram from Jeb asking him to meet him in Waco, he agreed.

Delay knew a lot of killers, but in none of them did he sense what he did in Jeb Collier and he wanted to be there the day it came out.

“You know what this fella Delay looks like?” Dave Roberts asked Ben when they were outside.

“Yeah, I know.”

Roberts waited for Ben to elaborate. When Ben didn’t, Roberts asked, “So, what does he look like?”

“He’s scary-lookin’,” Ben said.

“Whataya mean, scary-lookin’?”

Ben shuddered.

“You’ll know when you see him,” he said. “It’s somethin’ in his eyes.”

“How can somebody’s eyes be scary?”

“Don’t take my word for it,” Ben said. “Take a look for yourself.” Ben pushed off the pole he’d been leaning against. “Here he comes now.”

Riding into Waco, down the main street, Delay spotted Ben Collier, who he disliked even more than his brother—but Ben had no redeeming qualities to make up for it. Delay thought Ben Collier was a waste of air and was surprised and disappointed that somebody hadn’t killed him by now.

“That looks like the brother,” Lou Tanner said.

“Yeah.” Tanner was Delay’s right hand and had been riding with him much longer than the other two men, Roy Leslie and Bill Samms.

“I could put a bullet into him from here,” Tanner offered, knowing how Delay felt about Ben Collier.

“Forget it,” Delay said. “Some day his own brother will probably do it.”

The four men reined in their horses in front of Ben Collier.

“Jeb’s in this little saloon, Mr. Delay,” Ben said, nervously.

“Who’s this?” Delay asked, indicating Roberts.

“Uh, this is Dave Roberts.”

Delay stared at Roberts until the other man looked away, then dismounted, followed by his men.

“Want us to take care of your horses, Mr. Delay?” Ben asked.

“No,” Delay said, “leave ’em. We don’t know if we’re stayin’, do we?”

“No, I guess not.”

“But I tell you what,” Delay said, handing Ben his horse’s reins. “You can stay out here and watch ’em for us.”

“Sure, Mr. Delay, sure,” Ben said.

Delay turned and walked into the saloon, followed by Tanner and the other two men.

Ben turned to Dave Roberts and looked at him expectantly.

“Jesus,” the other man said.

“I told you.”

“Them’s are the deadest eyes I ever seen,” Roberts said. “He’d just as soon kill ya as look at ya.”

“Yeah,” Ben said. “That’s why I don’t mind stayin’ out here and watchin’ his horse.”

“Me neither.”

Jeb Collier saw Vic Delay as soon as he entered the saloon, followed by Lou Tanner and two men he didn’t know. He stood up as the man approached, because you never knew what to expect from a killer like Delay.

“Vic,” he said.

“Jeb,” Delay said.

“Beer?”

“Sure.”

“Clark?” Jeb said. “Why don’t you get Vic a beer and then take his men over to the bar. Hello, Tanner.”

“Jeb,” Lou Tanner said.

“Lou,” Delay said, “take the boys over to the bar with Wilson.”

“Sure, Vic.”

Wilson brought a beer back to the table for Delay, another for Jeb, and then went to join Delay’s boys at the bar.

“So,” Delay asked Collier, “when did you get out?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“Do anything worthwhile since then?”

Jeb Collier named the two banks he and his men had hit since his release from Yuma.

“Those were you?” Delay asked. “You didn’t waste any time.”

“I needed some traveling money.”

“To travel where?”

“Pearl River Junction.”

Vic Delay drank some beer and said, “Never heard of it. What’s there? A bank?”

“They got a bank, sure,” Collier said, “but I’m headed there for another reason.”

“Like what?”

Jeb hesitated then asked, “You got any kids, Vic?”

“No,” Delay said with a laugh. “What would I do with a kid?”

“Well, I might have one.”

“Might?” Delay asked. “You mean you don’t know?”

“That’s what I’m goin’ to Pearl River Junction to find out.”

Delay sat back in his chair.

“That’s why you asked me to meet you here?” he asked. “To go there with you?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“You know, Jeb,” Delay said, “there ain’t a lot of things I do that ain’t for money.”

“I ain’t askin’ for a favor, Vic,” Jeb said. “There’s money there.”

“How much?”

“I don’t know,” Jeb said, “but there’s a bank, for sure. Once I’m done with my business there, we’ll hit the bank and leave town.”

“You’re gonna pick up your kid?”

“I’m gonna talk to my gal, see if the kid she had while I was in Yuma is mine, and then…”

“And then what?”

“And then I don’t know,” Jeb said. “I’ll have to make up my mind once I know for sure.”

“Does this gal have a husband you’re gonna have to deal with?”

“I don’t know,” Jeb said. “For all I know, we may have to deal with the whole town.”

“The law?”

“That too.”

Delay thought about it, then said, “Okay, it sounds like it might be interesting…might be fun.”

Jeb Collier knew what Vic Delay thought of as fun. To Delay “fun” and “killing” usually had the same meaning.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “it might be.”