“Of course not, Dan,” Garnett said. “We want them brought to justice for what they did to Mary, but be realistic. You can’t bring Mary back, but you can bring them—and the money—back.”
For a moment Mayor Garnett thought he’d gone too far. That barely contained rage he’d seen before flared in Dan Shaye’s eyes and then subsided.
“Dan,” Charlie Garnett said, “we’re friends. We’ve been friends for twelve years, since you and Mary brought the boys here and you took the job as sheriff. I think I should be able to speak freely here.”
Shaye hesitated, then said, “Go ahead.”
“I think,” Garnett said, very carefully, “what you’re feeling is not so much anger as guilt.”
“Over what?”
“You weren’t there when Mary…when the gang hit the bank. You didn’t get there in time to stop them, or to save her.”
“I was at the other end of town, Mayor,” Shaye said, “doing my job.”
“I know that, Dan,” Garnett said, “and so do you. There was nothing you could have done.”
“Oh, but there was,” Shaye said. “If I’d been there I could have stopped them.”
“All eight of them?”
“I would have stopped them,” Shaye said again. “I would have kept Mary alive.”
“Dan—”
“Charlie,” Shaye said, cutting the man off, “I’m going after that gang even if I have to go alone. I’m going to kill them, one by one—”
“Dan,” Garnett said, “that’s not your job—”
“—and if they still have the money, I’ll bring it back here,” Shaye went on, not giving the mayor a chance to finish. “But understand this: My first duty is to my dead wife, and to my sons, to avenge their mother’s death. My duty is not to a town that stood by and watched her die, or who will stand by now and not volunteer to lift a finger to help hunt them down.”
“They’re storekeepers, Dan,” Garnett said, “not manhunters.”
“No,” Shaye said, “that’s me. I’m the manhunter, and that’s what I’m going to do. Hunt them down.”
“Alone.”
“Yes, if I have to,” Shaye said. “What I need to know is, do you want this badge back?”
“If I take that badge, then you’ll have no authority to hunt them,” Garnett said. “You’ll be no better than a bounty hunter.”
“That’s right.”
“I won’t do that to you, Dan,” Garnett said. “I told you, we’re friends. You keep the badge, and you find somebody to pin those deputies’ badges on. The town will be with you in spirit and goodwill—”
“This town can take its spirit and goodwill and stick it up its collective ass, Charlie,” Shaye said. “And that includes you.”
Charlie Garnett spread his beefy hands and said, “If I could even still sit a horse, I’d be right with you, Dan—”
“Save it, Charlie,” Shaye said. “You’re all alike, all of you storekeepers and politicians.” He turned, stalked over to the door, opened it, then stood there with his hand on the knob. “I’ll be leaving in the morning. I’ll outfit myself from the general store. I assume the town will foot the bill?”
“Of course. It’s the least we can do.”
“It’s the very least you will do, Charlie.”
“Dan—”
Shaye stopped with one foot out the door. “What?”
“What are you going to do for deputies?”
“I don’t know, Charlie,” Shaye said, “but with or without deputies or a posse, I’m leaving in the morning.”
As Sheriff Daniel Shaye walked out the door, slamming it behind him, Mayor Charles Garnett thought that, one way or another, he would never see Shaye again.
3
On the street in front of City Hall, Dan Shaye stopped and stood on the boardwalk. People walked past him and lowered their eyes, not wanting to meet his. He had thought for years that they were his friends, his wife’s friends, but the events of the past few days had proven him wrong. They were not his friends. He was the sheriff, and they were the town, and there would always be a barrier between them.
He stepped into the street and crossed over, headed for his office. He knew his days as sheriff of Epitaph were numbered. He needed the badge only to give him some semblance of authority while he hunted the gang, even though he was sure to end up out of his jurisdiction. After that, from wherever he ended up, he’d send it back to them.
He’d spent the better part of the day trying to replace his deputies or round up a posse, and had failed at both. Now there was only one course of action left to him.
When he reached his office, he opened the door and stepped inside. He found three men waiting for him, and they were all wearing deputy’s badges.
“Hello, boys,” he said to his three sons.
Earlier in the day the three boys had talked while at the house, which was situated at the south end of town. They had spent the past twelve years there, but now it felt oddly empty.
“What are we gonna do, Thomas?” James asked his older brother. “We can’t just let Pa go after those men without us.”
“He ain’t gonna get a posse up,” Matthew said. “And his deputies have already quit.”
Matthew had gone to town earlier in the day to get some idea of what was happening, and had returned with this news.
“There’s only one thing we can do, boys,” Thomas said. “We got to be Pa’s deputies.”
“He used to call us that, when I was little,” James said. “His little deputies, remember?”
“I remember,” Matthew said. “Ma used to tell him not to even think about it.”
“Well,” Thomas said, “he’s gonna have to think about it now, ’cause we’re all he’s got. And we got a right to avenge Ma’s death, just as much as he has.”
“Even me?” James asked hopefully.
“Even you, James,” Thomas said. “You’re a man growed, just like we are.”
“So what do we do, Thomas?” Matthew asked.
“We go to town,” Thomas said, “and we don’t give Pa a choice.”
“We stand up to him?” Matthew asked.
“That’s what we do.”
“We ain’t never done that before,” James said.
“Well, we’re gonna have to do it now,” Thomas said. “We got to be together on this. Matthew?”
The middle brother took a moment to think, then nodded and said, “Yes.”
“James?”
“Oh, yes,” the younger brother said without hesitation.
“Then let’s go to town, boys.”
The three boys had just pinned on the badges they’d found on top of and inside the desk when their father walked into the office.
“What have we here?” he asked.
“Deputies, Pa,” Thomas said.
“Three of us,” Matthew said.
“We heard what was happening in town,” James said. “You need us, Pa.”
“And we deserve to go along,” Thomas said. “She was our mother. We got a right to avenge her death.”
Dan Shaye studied his three sons. They all stood as tall as he, Matthew even taller and bigger. They all wore guns. He knew that Thomas could shoot. He knew that Matthew’s size and strength made him deadly in a fight. James was nineteen, though. He could not shoot like his older brother, nor could he fight like Matthew. But he had the same rights as the other two boys.
“Pa?” Thomas said.
“My three deputies,” Shaye said. “Your mother would kill me for pinning those badges on you.”
“You didn’t pin ’em on us,” Thomas pointed out.
“We pinned ’em on ourselves,” James added.
“Yeah,” Dan Shaye said, “yeah, you did.”
In truth, Shaye had already decided that his only course of action was to take his sons along, after first deputizing them. They had never gone against another man in a fight, never killed another man, but he had no choice. If he was going to catch up to the Langer gang and make them pay for what they had done to Mary Shaye, he couldn’t go alone.