Before he can draw it back, Kodiak speaks, voice deeper now, clear.
“Leave it be, Sherman.”
The words freeze him. Recognition hits like the crack of a whip. His gaze darts to me, then back to the bed. “That’s not?—”
Kodiak throws the blanket aside and sits up, firelight in his eyes, pistol leveled between Virgil’s. For an instant, Virgil doesn’t breathe. Then he laughs, short and sharp.
“I’ll grant you ingenuity, Alice. I’d thought you’d taken this creature to your bed, but I never dreamed you’d domesticate him.” Virgil’s smile does not falter. He rests one hand on his hip, fingers curled near his own piece, a passive motion that betraysthe true threat of violence, that blood could be drawn at the twitch of a finger.
“You don’t want to gamble which of us is faster with a pistol, Sherman.” Kodiak’s voice is soft, measured, but there is iron under it.
For a heartbeat, Virgil lets his hand lie there, as if he were caressing the thought of it. “So this was your plan? To pretend to be Collier and send me on my merry way? You nearly passed for Collier, I’ll give you that. What have you done with him?”
“Take a wild guess,” Kodiak snarks, but I’ve been hooked by Virgil’s words. Just then, it comes to me all at once.
Collier. That’s it.
Virgil’s smile remains, but his eyes lose their edge—too still now, too calculating, all his focus on the pistol. “I’ll ask again. Where is Collier?”
I step between them. “He’s…passed on.”
“He’s fuckin’ dead, Virgil. Alice, get out of the way.”
Virgil sighs as if I’ve disappointed him. “You let this animal kill an innocent man?”
“I killed him.”
“Alice,” Kodiak warns, “get out of the goddamn way.”
“It was self-defense,” I explain.
“Alice, move. Now!”
His shout makes me jump, and I stumble back. I turn to face him. “We are not doing this, Kodiak. Both of you, put your guns away at once. We will discuss this like civilized adults.”
Virgil scoffs. “Civilized? With a murderer and a fugitive? He killed ten men in Galveston. More if you count the innocent men on that ship.”
“I don’t expect this yellow-bellied dog to know a goddamn thing about honor.” Kodiak’s arm swings blunt against my chest, sweeping me backward and out of the line of fire, his other hand snug on his gun.
“Kodiak!” I warn.
He ignores me. “Go ahead, draw iron. I dare you.”
Virgil studies him. “You’ve got gall, Randolph. If you fire your weapon, the man downstairs will ride into town and have the sheriff up here by nightfall for the both of you.”
“You need the law to settle your scores, boy?”
“Enough,” I say. I turn to Virgil. “I know you well enough to know your true concern is not with Kodiak. This is about business and the Sherman name. It always has been. So what if we could give you the satisfaction of claiming the bounty on Kodiak.”
“What?” Kodiak shouts.
“Calm down and let me finish!” I shout. “You want to be done with this?” I ask them both. “Then we end it. For good.” I address Virgil. “We both know the only reason you want to see Kodiak executed is to impress the railroad men at L&N so you can make permanent their arrangement with Sherman Hotels.”
“You assume much. What is your point?”
“My point is, there’s a body downstairs. Same build. Same height. No people to miss him. Take him in. Say you found Kodiak holed up in the cellar. You took him down with your own hands. You collect the bounty. The law crosses his name off the books and you play the hero.”
“Oh, come on, Alice. Virgil couldn’t take me in a fight,” Kodiak complains.
