The Lawman

Chapter Thirty-five

“Can I help you?” Moran asked. He was frowning. He disliked the idea that there was another stranger in town, and that the man had suddenly appeared at his table.

A waiter came over and Decker said, “Coffee for two, and bring the sheriff whatever he wants for breakfast.”

Moran, his appetite possibly ruined, said, “Just the coffee.”

“Nothing more? That’s not the right way to start a day, Sheriff.”

“Why don’t we start it with an explanation from you, friend?”

“Well, I saw you come in here and figured maybe you’d like another gringo to talk to. You know, about home and all that?”

“You were wrong.”

“All right, then I wanted somebody to talk to.”

“About what?”

“About this little problem I’m having.”

“Which is?”

“Well, this is a little embarrassing to admit,” Decker said, scratching his head, “but the fact is I’m a wanted man back in the States.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Yep. A thousand dollars.”

“That’s quite a price.”

“My problem is that there are some people in town who are looking to collect.”

At that Moran suddenly looked interested. They suspended the conversation while the waiter put down a pot of coffee and two cups.

“Something else?” he asked.

“No!” Moran said firmly. After the waiter had left he looked at Decker and said, “Bounty hunters?”

Decker nodded, and spread the fingers of his hand to show Moran. “Five of them.”

“Five? On a thousand-dollar bounty? That’s only two hundred apiece.”

“Two hundred dollars is a lot of money to some people—but I don’t think all five will collect.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the leaders of this particular group are a brother and sister, and I know them. Their name is Diaz. He’s as ugly as sin, but she’s beautiful—and deadly. Anyway, I think they picked up these three other men to help them because they knew I’d recognize them. They’re either going to pay these fellas about fifty dollars each, or…”

“Or what?”

“Or they will kill them when the job is done. After I’m dead, I mean.”

Moran thought it over.

“That would make sense. That way it would be a straight two-way split, with no expenses.”

“I need your help.”

“Why don’t you just ride out?”

“They’d just follow me and I’d have to face them somewhere else down the road. At least here I’ve got a fellow countryman to help me out. You will help me, won’t you, Sheriff? I mean, I’m not trying to wave the flag in your face or anything, but us gringos have to stick together.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve asking me to help you. I’m the law and you’re a wanted man.”

“Not in Mexico.”

“What’s your name?”

Decker picked the name he’d seen on another poster of a man he knew was still on the loose.

“Mike Sideman. If you got any posters in your office you can look it up.”

“I don’t get posters from the United States down here.”

“Well then, you’ll have to take my word for it, Sheriff.” “I mean, why would I tell you I was wanted if I wasn’t?”

Moran nodded, sipped his coffee, and then said, “All right.”

“All right…what?”

“I’ll help you.”

“I knew I could count on you!”

“Are you staying at the hotel?”

“Yeah.”

“Go back to your room and wait for me. I’ll find these people and check them out.”

“I really appreciate this, Sheriff,” Decker said, standing up.

“Forget it. What name are you using?”

Decker hesitated just a second. He was registered under his own name, and if Moran recognized it, his disguise would be revealed.

“Decker.”

No flicker of recognition, and Decker was looking very closely.

“Okay, Decker. Back to your hotel and wait to hear from me.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.”

Moran signalled to the waiter and dismissed Decker. “Get out and let me eat my breakfast.”

Decker left and walked back to the hotel. This might go off better than he planned. If Moran found Gilberto and Raquel and tossed them in jail, the other three men would be left to wander aimlessly about town. Without the brother and sister to tell them what to do, they’d be lost.

And the Diaz siblings would be out of Decker’s way.