Page 20 of Hell and Gone
“It’s faster to take him back to the Lazy Twenty-Two ‘n’drive the body into town.”
“Like you did with Carson?”
Lawrence had glared. “You really think Braddock and his boys are goin’ to pack their way out here? Camp overnight on the way, do a nice li’l search like you did? You see him doin’anyof that?”
Everett hadn’t said anything. Braddock hadn’t become the sheriff through laziness, and he hadn’t held his post for decades by not investigating cases. He was a better sheriff than Lawrence gave him credit for.
But there was something between Braddock and Lawrence, history that he hadn’t unraveled yet.
He didn’t know which man to trust. Not yet.
He’d pulled out a body bag from his backpack and tossed it to Lawrence instead of defending Braddock. The sheriff didn’t need his help. “Help me bag him.”
They laid the dead man over his horse’s saddle and tied a lead to Trigger’s pommel. The dead man’s horse was used to riding in formation, and he fell into step behind Trigger without complaint. The pass back around Crazy Peak was ass-clenching for Everett, Lantana’s hooves sometimes brushing the edge of the trail and the plunging ravine, but Lawrence managed both horses without even looking strained.
Hours later, another rider joined them when they dropped into the home pastures on Lazy Twenty-Two land. He was younger than Everett, but weathered, and he wore a big cowboy hat high on his head. Leather chaps with batwings flapped behind him as he rode hard for Lawrence.
He came abreast of them and fell in, eyeballing the body bag with cow eyes lined all the around with wide rings of white.
“We heard the shot this morning. Was that you?”
“Nah, wasn’t me. Was whoever killed this man.”
“Another dead body?” The cowboy cursed. “Hoss, it ain’t right, all this killin’! Thought this was over. Thought we weren’t gonna have to worry ‘bout that no more!”
“Someone changed their mind, Terry.”
“You think it’s them truckers? I knew some of ‘em from school, you know. They say Charlie killed a man down in South Dakota! What’s to say this ain’t him and some of the others come on up to have their revenge? They said they wanna murder some cowboys!”
“Terry—”
“‘Cause who is to say they won’t start killin’ any ole cowboy they see! They was already fightin’ damn near everyone ‘fore!”
“Terry!”
“Hoss, this is serious! You bringin’ dead bodies down out the mountains now, twice in this one week!”
“Well, what the fuck you wanna do about it, Terry?” Lawrence kicked Trigger forward, cutting Terry’s horse off and facing him down. “You wanna complain or you wanna get some real shit done? Lemme introduce you to real shit. This here is Everett Dawson. He’s the stock detective down from Helena that’s gonna find this killer. He’s already got the son of a bitch’s trail. He pulled horse prints up off the fuckin’ dust. Now, I never seen anyone do that before, but this mandid!”
“Yeah, all right,” Terry said. He backed his horse up, and Everett watched him set his jaw, square his shoulders. “But will he do it ‘fore any more cowboys get shot and murdered?”
Lawrence said nothing.
He’s not going to lie to his men.
Terry shook his head. “Hoss, me ‘n the boys were talkin’. While all this is goin’ on, while all this killin’ is happenin’… we’re gonna take our pay and clear out for a while.”
“You’re quittin’?”
“Takin’ a break,” Terry tried to protest. Lawrence snarled, waved Terry’s words away. “Hoss, you can’t say we won’t end up draped over your saddle in no body bag, can you?”
It hurt Lawrence to answer, to speak the truth, Everett could tell. “No.”
“Well, once you find this killer, you can call us back. But for now, we’ll be ridin’ into town tonight. Then we’re lighting a shuck out of the county tomorrow.”
“You wanna run? Go on then! Get gone!” Lawrence nudged Trigger forward, circling Terry and eyeballing him before taking off for the ranch. He still led the dead man’s horse, the corpse laid out over the saddle, belly down.
“We’ll set the herd up!” Terry shouted. “’Fore we leave!”
