Vengeance Creek: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

18

Thomas Shaye was checking hotels at one end of town, while James was checking rooming houses at the other. Dan Shaye was still in his house. When Ben Cardwell and Simon Jacks entered the bank, none of the Shaye men were anywhere near it.

Thomas read the name on the register.

“Simon Jacks,” he said, looking at the clerk. “Says here he arrived yesterday.”

“That’s right, Deputy.”

“What kind of man is he?”

The clerk shrugged. “Normal, I guess. Not a fancy man, doesn’t look like a hard case.”

“What does he look like?”

A shrug again. “A salesman, maybe?”

“He have a drummer’s case, samples, anything like that?” Thomas asked.

“No.”

“Was he wearing a gun?”

“Well, sure.”

“What kind?”

“I’m a desk clerk, Deputy,” the man said. His name was Hubert Holt, and he was about thirty.

“You been alive long enough to see guns, Hubert,” Thomas said. “Old or new?”

“Looked old.”

“Clean?”

“I guess.”

Thomas closed the register and pushed it back at Hubert. “Where is he now?”

“He left early.”

“Okay,” Thomas said, “thanks.”

He started for the door, then turned back.

“Hubert?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Did he just leave, or did he check out?”

“Oh, he checked out,” the clerk said. “Paid his bill and all.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Thomas left the hotel, stopped just outside. Jacks didn’t sound like much, but he’d checked three hotels and this was the only stranger he’d found. He wondered how James was doing.

That’s when he heard the shots.

James had checked three rooming houses and come up empty. He was on his way to the fourth when he heard the shots, which sounded like they were coming from the center of town. One shot wouldn’t have carried, but there was a volley.

He started running.

Shaye had left his house and was walking toward the center of town when he heard the first two shots. Immediately, he thought of the bank, and that made him think of the Bank of Epitaph, a year ago.

“No,” he said, “not this time.”

He took off at a dead run.

Moments earlier Cardwell and Jacks had walked into the bank as soon as it opened. Nancy Timmerman was still in the manager’s office, where Fred Baxter was telling her he thought she deserved more responsibility.

Cardwell and Jacks entered and immediately drew their guns.

“Nobody move,” Cardwell said to the employees. “First person who does dies.”

That’s when Baxter came running out of the office, holding a gun.