“I know it, but we can’t do it.”
“Why not?” Kent asked. “We can just pretend like we never heard what the bartender said.”
“Beck will find out.”
“We can blame the bartender.”
“Beck will find out.”
“Pretend like we left town without ever hearin’ about it—”
“Beck will find—”
“I know, I know!” Kent said. “Beck will find out and he’ll kill us. I get it.”
They sat there for a few moments in silence, and then Kent said, “Let’s finish these fresh beers and then go get it done.”
It took them a couple of hours to track down the man who’d been asking questions about Beck. They didn’t mind that, because by now the fella would be in his bed, sound asleep.
“Always easier to kill a sleepin’ man,” Kent said to his partner.
“I know.”
They were standing outside the hotel, getting themselves ready to go in.
“We’re gonna have to kill the clerk, too,” Kent said, “because he’s gonna see us.”
“Course he’s gonna see us, because we have to ask him what room this Lancaster’s in.”
“Lancaster,” Kent said. “Damn, but that name’s familiar. I just can’t place it.”
“Never mind,” Tyler said. “You can think about it later, after he’s dead.”
“Yeah, okay,” Kent said. “Look, after the clerk gives us the room number, lemme kill ’im, okay? I hate hotel clerks. Snotty little bastards.”
“Sure,” Tyler said, “the clerk’s yours. Are you ready to do this?”
“I’m ready,” Kent said. “Let’s go in.”
They started in and Kent put his hand on Tyler’s arm. “Wait, we gotta kill the bartender, too?”
“We’ll talk about that later.”
“Okay, but if we gotta kill the bartender, lemme do it,” Kent begged. “I hate bartenders. Snotty little bastards!”
Thirty-one
Kent and Tyler decided the best course of action was the direct one. They’d kick in the door of Lancaster’s room and gun him down while he was in bed. What could be easier?
They crept down the hall, guns in their hands, after leaving the clerk behind the desk with a fatal knife wound in his chest. They had flipped a coin to see who would kick the door in. Tyler had won, so Kent was upset, even though he’d gotten to kill the clerk, like he wanted.
The floor creaked slightly beneath their combined weight, but neither of them noticed it. They were intent on what they had to do.
They came to the door and positioned themselves. Tyler was in front, Kent just behind him, ready to fire. He could hardly stand still, he enjoyed killing so much.
Tyler slammed his heel into the door just beneath the doorknob. The door opened with a loud, splintering sound, but to the surprise of both men the first shot came from inside the room…
Lancaster was ready for the two men. Because he knew Gerry Beck’s methods, he figured the man had left one or two men behind to take care of anyone asking questions about him. It was the main reason he’d decided to retire to his room early. He hadn’t expected them to take so long to find him, though, and had almost fallen asleep. When the floor creaked beneath their weight, he heard it, because he had noticed it when it creaked beneath him earlier in the day.
You had to notice things like that if you were going to survive as long as he had.
When he heard the creak, he sat up straight on the bed and palmed Mal’s borrowed gun. He had spent some time earlier cleaning it, and dry-firing it to make sure it would function properly. He had supreme confidence in it as he waited for the door to open.
He was not, however, unmindful of the fact that someone might come through the window. He had perched the room’s pitcher and basin there as an alarm system, and was prepared for a double attack from both directions.
The door slammed open with a loud, splintering sound. A man with a gun was framed in the doorway and Lancaster fired once. He would have preferred a nonfatal wound, but didn’t have the luxury of being that precise. He simply fired dead center and hoped for the best.
However, there was a second man behind the first, partially blocked from view, and suffering the same disadvantage.
Lancaster decided to get off the bed so as to present an off-center target.
Kent was shocked by the sound of the shot and the flash of the gun from inside the room, but not as shocked as Tyler, who took a bullet in the chest. He staggered back against Kent with a grunt, his gun falling from his hand.
Kent took a step back to let Tyler fall to the floor, and when he got a clear view of the room, he was looking at a man down on one knee, pointing a gun at him.
“Just twitch and you’re dead,” Lancaster said. “Be smart and drop it.”
Kent had his gun in his hand and was tempted, but at that moment a memory clicked into place.
“Oh, damn,” he said, “Lancaster,” and dropped his gun.
Thirty-two
“Inside,” Lancaster said.
Kent moved into the room with his hands up.
“Close the door.”
“Lancaster,” Kent said, closing the door on his dead partner. “Now I remember. You used to ride with Beck.”
“Long time ago,” Lancaster said.
“I thought you were dead,” Kent said. “I think even Beck thought you were dead, and now you’re huntin’ him?”
“That’s right,” Lancaster said. “And you’re gonna tell me where he is.”
“That’s gonna be pretty hard,” Kent said, “since I don’t know where he is.”
“Then he paid you in advance?”
“That’s right.”
“And you and your partner are just so honorable you did the job anyway, huh?”
“Don’t kid yerself,” Kent said. “If I thought I could’ve got away with it, I woulda left town the day after he did.”
“So you’re afraid of him?”
“Damn right.”
“Are you afraid of me?”
“Hell, no.”
Lancaster cocked the hammer on his gun and said, “You should be.”
“You were somethin’ once, Lancaster,” Kent said, “and you killed my partner, but you’ll just kill me. What Beck will do to me…” He let it trail off.
Once Lancaster and Beck were alike. It seemed, over the years, that they had become very, very different. What was Beck like now that a man like this would rather die than face him?
“I tell you what,” Lancaster said.
“You got an offer for me?”
“I do.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Let’s you and me go lookin’ for Beck.”
“You crazy?” Kent asked. “After I screw up killin’ ya, I’m gonna go with ya to find him? You know what he’d do to me?”
“No, but you keep asking me if I do, so I think I’d like to see.”
“You’re crazy,” Kent said. “The law here won’t let you take me.”
“The law here’s pretty lazy, or haven’t you noticed?” Lancaster asked. “What’s your name?”
“Kent.”
“Okay, Kent,” Lancaster said. “Even if he is lazy, the sheriff should be here soon. Make up your mind. Tell me what you know about Beck, or come with me to find him.”
“I told ya, I don’t know nothin’—”
“You may not know, but you’ve got some idea where he went,” Lancaster said. “Or where he’ll be.”
“You want me to guess?”
“If you give me your best guess, I’ll leave you here when I go lookin’ for him.”
“You serious?”
“I am.”
“And you’ll believe me?”
“It ain’t so much that I’ll believe you,” Lancaster said, “as it is I’ll know if you’re lying.”