“Shut up, dish soap,” Seamus snapped. He started to go in but drew his leg back. Whoever had shot the Larns might feel as unfriendly toward the law. “Mayor Luce! Get back here!”
Chester ignored him. He stepped over a spreading pool of scarlet and on past the last of the shelves to the counter. Skirting the pickle barrel, he moved behind it. From where he stood he could not see the door or the window and the posse could not see him. He took a silver flask from a drawer, opened it, and swigged.
“I am sorry about your wife.” Jeeter Frost was crouched at the end of the counter.
“Thank you,” Chester said.
“I got here too late to save her.” Jeeter did not mention hitting her with the frying pan.
“They don’t know it is you in here,” Chester said. “Not for sure.”
“It would be nice if they could go on thinking that,” Jeeter said. “Have they sent anyone around back yet?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“The dandy in charge isn’t much good at this.”
“Seamus Glickman,” Chester said.
“That’s him,” Jeeter said. “My wife and I tied him up back at her boardinghouse, but he must have come after us.” One eye on the front of the store, Jeeter sidled along the counter to Chester. “Listen, I can’t stay. As soon as they think of it they will send someone to watch the back door to keep me from getting away. I have to be gone by then and now is as good a time as any.” He held out his hand. “I thank you for your help and wish you the best. Again, I am sorry about your wife. Now that I have one of my own, I know what it would mean to me to lose her.”
Chester was touched. “I hope you and the schoolmarm have a good, long life,” he said. “As for the posse, I will do what I can to delay them so the two of you can get away.”
“You would do that for us?”
“For my Adolphina,” Chester said. “She and I once had what you two have. I will delay them out of respect for her.”
They shook hands, and Jeeter Frost smiled. “I was wrong about you. You are more of a man than I reckoned.” He hurried off.
“Good luck,” Chester said. Turning, he made for the gun case over against the north wall. He was grinning as he opened it.
Glickman and the posse were in for a surprise.
Chapter 31
Seamus waited five minutes by his pocket watch. Then his patience ran out. Cupping his hand to his mouth, he shouted, “Mayor Luce! What have you found in there?”
Chester did not reply. He had taken out a pair of Colts. Not new but used, a pair he had received in trade for merchandise back before Coffin Varnish went to hell in a handbasket. From the bottom of the case he had brought a box of ammunition and now he was loading the second six-shooter. He had never shot a gun before, but he was confident he could keep the posse out there long enough for Jeeter and Ernestine to escape. It served the posse, and especially Seamus Glickman, right, Chester reflected. Had they not shown up, the gun battle with the Larns would not have taken place and Adolphina would still be alive.
“Mayor Luce!” Seamus hollered. “Why don’t you answer me? What is taking so long in there?” The posse members were looking at him expectantly, all except for Lafferty, who was hunched over behind the water trough, scribbling as if any moment the world would end.
Chester hefted a Colt in each hand. They were heavier than he thought they would be. He tried twirling one and nearly dropped it.
“Mayor Luce?” Seamus tried again. “If you can hear me, get down. Lead will soon be flying every which way.” He cocked his Merwin and Hulbert. “Are you ready, gents?” he whispered to the others. They did not appear ready. They looked nervous as hell.
Winston cleared his throat. “Are you sure it is smart to go charging on in there? Whoever killed those Larns must have killed the mayor, too.”
“Weren’t you the one eager to go rushing in a few minutes ago?” Seamus said in contempt.
“Too many have already died,” another man remarked. “I would rather we don’t get added to the list.”
Their timidity rankled Seamus. “We have a job to do and we will damn well do it. On the count of three, in we go.” He paused. “One.”
Chester Luce heard every word. He had crept to within ten feet of the front door, and now he extended both his arms across a shelf lined with folded pants and shirts. He aimed at the center of the doorway, thumbed back the hammer of the right-hand Colt, and fired.
Seamus swore he heard a slug buzz past his ear. Crouching, he spotted a plume of gun smoke. The killer had given himself away. He snapped off a shot, then ducked back.
Chester saw a pile of pants jump as if alive, and winced at a searing pain in his side.
When there was no outcry or return fire, Seamus risked another look. He made out a vague outline behind the shelf but could not see who it was for all the clothes. “You in there!” he bellowed. “Give up while you can!”
