“That’s right,” Conn said. “And we had to kill a couple of his brothers, too. They came gunning for me.”
The marshal shook his head. “What a mess. What a bloody mess.”
Conn pulled three dollars from his pocket and handed them to the lawman. “For the undertaker.”
“Obliged,” Andrews said. “But this is over now.”
“What’s over?”
“Hunting these fellas. You’re out of it.”
Everything in Conn tightened then. “Not unless they’re dead.”
Andrews brightened. “They’re as good as dead.”
“They’ve been as good as dead since they killed my brother,” Conn said, “but I still got killing to do.”
Andrews shook his head. “I sent for a U.S. Marshal. He came in this morning on the train from Salida.”
“Well, good for him. This changes nothing. I’m here to drop off Blake. Then I’m hitting the trail again.”
Andrews looked uncomfortable. “Well, the marshal went to get something to eat, but he ought to be back any minute.”
Conn swung down from the gelding and walked back and untied Blake and let him fall heavily to the dusty street.
Sheffield climbed down and helped him drag the dead man over to the boardwalk in front of the marshal’s office.
“Here he comes now,” Marshal Andrews said.
Conn turned, and once again, everything in him tightened, this time like a fist ready to strike.
“Mayfield,” he said to the approaching man.
U.S. Marshal Clayton Mayfield stopped twenty feet away, looking confident and ready.
Conn half-expected him to brush his coat aside and slap leather.
There had been a time…
“Sullivan,” Mayfield said.
For a long second, the two men just stared at each other.
Onlookers watched in silence, sensing the tension between these two deadly men.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Mayfield said tonelessly.
Conn nodded. “I’m setting things right.”
Mayfield shook his head. It was a slight thing. Like many predators, Mayfield was a study in grace and subtlety. “Not anymore, Sullivan. This is my job now.”
“Good luck with your job,” Conn said, mounting up. “Just stay out of my way.”
“You don’t seem to understand,” Mayfield said. “Your manhunt is over.”
Conn spat on the ground between them. “It won’t be over till the men who killed my brother are dead. And I mean every last one of them.”
“That will take some time,” Mayfield said. “I have to track them down, take them into custody, get them in front of a judge.Speaking of which, hop on down and come to Marshal Andrews’ office with me. I want to get your testimony. It could help in court.”
