Percival cowered in the corner and let out a gurgled sob.
Jack dropped his hand from his holster. “Of course, I’m not going to shoot you.”
“Really? Cause I think you know better than to act like you’re gonna draw your gun on a man without meaning to shoot or get shot.”
“The chamber is empty.”
Brandt moved his jacket aside. “Well, mine ain’t, so that wasn’t too bright of you, was it?”
Jack opened his arms wide. “What’s the matter with you? Is this about my mistaking the new housekeeper for a whore?”
“I ain’t the one with a problem, pal.” Brandt frowned and motioned to Jack’s gun. “Give it here.”
Jack opened his jacket. “How about you take it in exchange for that document?”
Brandt moved forward and shoved the paper at Jack. “Here, you dang fool. What do I care?” Jack closed his hand around the document, and Brandt snatched the pistol from Jack’s holster with his free hand.
“No bullets,” he said, opening the chamber.
Jack smirked and turned his attention to the document. But, before he had time to read a word, the back of Brandt’s fist smashed against his cheekbone, and a world of pain exploded on his face. He staggered back. A burning sensation spread across his face, and his vision blurred.
“What the devil?” He glanced at Brandt through his streaming eye.
“Ain’t you gonna hit me back?” Brandt stretched out his arms.
“Don’t tempt me.” Jack clenched his fists, but he knew he’d deserved what Brandt had given him. He would have done the same if Brandt had even hinted at shooting him.
“You gonna read it or what?”
Jack recovered the document and scanned its contents.
Certificate of Death
Name of Deceased:
Sebastian John Greyson
Date of Birth:
March 16, 1840
Father of Deceased:
Rev. Sebastian James Greyson
