The Bridge

68

It was Ballard who’d shot me, and it was Virgil who’d shot Ballard. His bullet hit Ballard in the temple and killed him instantly. By the time Virgil and Chastain got me out of the icy water, Dirk had died, too. The two men I’d shot with my eight-gauge inside the tent, Leonard and Ray, were both members of the gang, so there was no one left to provide any details other than Dmitry and Big Billy. They were the only two of the outlaws to survive the shoot-out at Yaqui Brakes.

“We’ve interrogated the goddamn living hell out of them,” Chastain said.

Virgil nodded. He was standing with his back to me as he looked out the window next to the painting of Jesus.

Chastain was sitting in a chair next to the door.

“They don’t know anything else?” I said.

“Other than Dmitry and Big Billy providing details about Ray and Leonard being the fellas that did the work,” Chastain said, “they don’t know shit.”

Virgil turned from the window.

“They don’t,” he said.

“Couple of dumbasses,” Chastain said.

“They signed on,” Virgil said, “thought they’d make some good money.”

“Little did they know,” Chastain said.

“Don’t think they knew what they were getting into until it was too late,” Virgil said.

“Yep,” Chastain said. “They was scared as hell of both Dirk and Ballard.”

“Dee, too,” Virgil said.

Chastain nodded.

“Said they wanted to back out,” Chastain said. “But they were scared they’d kill them.”

“Most likely right?” Virgil said.

“How about the telegram we sent to the governor’s office?” I said. “Any word back regarding the financials and whatnot?”

Virgil shook his head a little.

“Only that someone would report from the office as soon as the weather permitted,” Virgil said.

Doc Crumley came into the room with a dark bottle and a spoon.

“Oh,” Doc said. “Didn’t know you fellas was up here.”

“’Lo Doc,” Chastain said.

“Doc,” Virgil said with a nod.

“No more, Doc,” I said.

“Too soon not to,” he said.

“No more,” I said.

“You sure?” he said.

“More than sure,” I said. “I’ve had enough of that, don’t know if I’m coming or going.”

“You’re gonna be in pain,” he said.

“I know,” I said. “No more. If I go ahead and die, at least I will be alert enough to know it.”

“Okay,” he said. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“Will do,” I said. “But I won’t. And I will be walking outta here shortly.”

Doc put his fists on his hips.

“Don’t want to push it, Everett,” he said.

“I’m good,” I said.

Doc shook his head.

“You’re tore up inside,” he said, “and that needs time to heal, Everett.”

“I know,” I said. “I’ll take it easy.”

The doc looked to Virgil and Chastain and shook his head a little, then looked back to me.

“Don’t get on any horses,” he said.

“I won’t, Doc,” I said.

Doc Crumley left the room, shaking his head.

“So what now?” I said.

Virgil folded his arms and looked to the floor for a moment.

“Chastain and me rode out and talked to each of the ranchers from that list Swickey provided us,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Chastain nodded.

“We don’t think none of them had a hand in this,” he said.

“No,” Virgil said. “We don’t.”

“We talked to the rancher Eddie worked with, too,” Chastain said.

“Westmorland,” Virgil said. “The one that Dee and Dirk had worked for.”

“And?” I said.

Virgil shook his head.

“He’d be the last to muster something like this,” Virgil said. “Good man.”

“Leaves us with the whores,” I said.

Virgil nodded.

“We talked to a few,” Chastain said.

“And we’ll talk to them all, but it’s like Belle was saying. Whores are whores because they are whores.”