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CHAPTER 13

      AMHEARST AND Hopper waited in back of Amhearst's house, from where they could see Purdy ride up the hill to Nugent's place.

      They decided that after Purdy came down and said he had killed Nugent they would all ride over to Hopper's house for a little celebration. Once there, they would kill Purdy, and Hopper would plant him.

      But instead of Purdy coming down the hill, it was Nugent riding erect and easy, looking neither to the right nor left.

      "He's still alive," Hopper said quietly. "Purdy botched the job and got himself killed."

      Amhearst said, "More likely Purdy sold us out. Goddammit, we can't trust anybody anymore."

      Hopper thought it over and shuddered as a cold chill settled in his stomach. "Where's that leave us?" But he already knew.

      "It means it's going to be Nugent or us," Amhearst said.

      "We're going to have to kill Nugent ourselves?"

      "You can be pretty sure Purdy isn't going to do it, or it would have been done." Amhearst said. "Of course, there's a chance Purdy wasn't the hotshot he thought he was, and Nugent got the drop on him and killed him before he had a chance to say anything about us. In which case we can just go along like nothing happened.

      "Do you really believe that?"

      "No. Frank would go along with it, pretending he didn't know we were in on it, and then he'd get us when we least expect it. Come in someday when we're sitting in the privy, open the door, shoot us into pieces so small we'd drop through the hole." Amhearst laughed, a dry, somewhat sad-sounding laugh.

      "But it was Weitnaur that put him up to it and paid him to do it, not us."

      Amhearst snorted. "Why don't you just ride over there and tell Nugent that. But please leave me out of it." He shook his head sadly. "No, Euc, It looks like you and me are gonna have to move kinda quietly up the road to Nugent's place and wait until he comes home, and then we gotta blow him to hell."

      Hopper nodded. "And then what?"

      "Then we take another minute and get that swindlin' sonofabitch Watson," Amhearst said. "And maybe our old pal Homer Gaines while we're at it. And then we'll head on down to Denver and get Weitnaur, and then, my friend, you and I will split everything fifty-fifty, except one little thing."

      "What's that"

      Amhearst smiled, "I get Luna."

      "If she'll have you," Hopper shrugged.

      While they talked, they had been watching Nugent's progress. Now they saw him tie up at Watson's store.

      Elmer Watson was building a fire in the stove when Nugent came in. It was shivering cold, and Watson wore a heavy wool coat that almost dragged on the floor. He touched the kindling with a match and the flame spread to the split logs quickly. Both men held their cold hands against the stove's growing warmth.

      "Must be important to bring you out so early?" Watson said.

      "I think we got a little problem," Nugent said conversationally. "Gotta kill us a couple of people today."

      "Who?"

      "Billy Purdy, for one. He came up this morning and told me that Hopper and Amhearst and Weitnaur were paying him to kill me. Wanted me to pay him more to get them."

      Watson whistled softly through his snaggle-teeth. "Believe him?"

      "In a way. People like us . . . it's the natural law of things. So I guess we'll have to get those three, too."

      Watson poked a couple of bigger pieces of wood into the stove, and looked at Nugent sidewise. "You don't think I'm in it?"

      "I wouldn't be here if I did," Nugent said. "You and Gaines are all right. You've been my friend since before the war."

      "So we're choosing up sides."

      "Appears that way, Elmer."

      "Why did Purdy tell you?"

      "He said he knew they'd kill him just as soon as he did the job."

      "But doesn't he figure you'd do the same after you kilt them?"

      "I don't know. But Purdy's been trouble for me, so that's how it will be."

      Elmer shook the big kettle that rested on top of the stove to see if the ice had started melting, but it was still solid. "Well, let's go get him."

      "Save your energy. While I was comin' over here I saw Hopper's horse tied up behind Amhearst's place. I imagine they were surprised when they saw me still alive. They're not stupid, they'll know that either I got him, or he made a deal with me."

      "So?"

      "I figure Mr. Purdy is going into hiding right this minute. I'll bet he took a bunch of my cigars and tried to open my safe, too."

      Watson said thoughtfully, "You know, by you comin' over here, they figure you and I are plottin' against 'em. That seem reasonable to you?"

      "I thought about it."

      "Guess that means I'm in it whether I like it or not," Watson said soberly. Then he brightened up. "Takin' care of Hopper and Amhearst may take a little doin', but getting Weitnaur ought to be easy, aside from being a pleasure. Gaines and I are good friends, and I know he'll help us."

      "I was counting on that," Nugent said. "Tell Homer when it's over, the three of us will settle up. Everything will go three ways instead of six."

      Watson chewed on his mustache and looked serious. "I have a favor to ask, Frank. I would dearly love to get Weitnaur myself, and when it's over, I would like to take over the bank. I've always wanted to be a banker, and I'd like to live in Denver."

      Nugent nodded. "So be it, Elmer, soon as we get them all."

      Purdy watched Nugent heading down the hill toward Watson's store. After Nugent crossed the bridge and was lost from sight along the front of the building, Purdy returned to the office and began going through the desk. The drawers were well organized, as he expected they would be, but there wasn't anything in them that told about Nugent's business interests. Then he found a safe built into a cabinet against the wall, and he was twisting the combination dial, trying to get it open when he felt eyes on him. He turned sharply and found Luna watching him.

      "It's a very good safe. You'll need the combination to open it," she said tranquilly. "I saw you come in earlier, and then Frank went out, so I thought I'd come down."

      "We had a little meeting," Purdy said. "Did you hear what we talked about?"

      "Enough."

      Purdy fidgeted. There was a certain type of woman who made him nervous, and Luna was one of them. Desirable. Her wool dress clung too close to her body. He didn't know what to say to her about Nugent, especially since she had seen him fiddling with the safe.

      Finally, looking out the small window at the bleak sky, he said, "Looks like it's going to be a gray old day, doesn't it?"

      "You want to know what's in the safe, don't you," she said, scorning weather talk.

      "Yes."

      She smiled and sat down on the edge of the desk, and leaned back on her hands. "It's just papers in there. The books . . . you know, about who owes money to who, what the miners are paying back on their loans. The cost of whiskey sold in the saloons, the profits they make, the expenses of the people who work there. There's even a book about the whores . . . how much each girl takes in, how much he thinks they steal. It's business." She pronounced the last word very carefully, as though that explained everything. Her Spanish accent which she had managed to control during the dinner now became noticeable, as though she didn't mind revealing herself for him. "Are those the things you're looking for?"

      "Yes, that's what I want."

      "Are you a lawman?"

      "No, I'm just a man."

      "I think there are going to be big changes in my life soon, from what I heard you and Frank talking about."

      "Maybe," Purdy said.

      "Do you think that my husband will be killed?"

      "I don't know."

      She shook her head. "That would be a tragedy. Especially if he isn't the last one to go. That means somebody else would get all the money, and then what happens to poor Luna?"

      "He may not die. He's pretty smart," Purdy said.

      "He has no heart," she said bitterly. "He will kill all his friends, and he will kill you — and when he tires of me, then he will kill me. I've seen how he works."

      Purdy agreed wholeheartedly, but he didn't want to let her know he agreed. After a time he said, "Why do you stay with him?"

      She shrugged. "Look around you. This is a nice house, I wear nice clothes. And there is no place for me to go — he would kill my people if I ran away to them. So I put up with him. For now he wants me. Tomorrow? Who knows?"

      Purdy hesitated, "Will you help me open the safe?"

      "I don't know the combination. That's a very good safe. It came from Boston."

      Purdy twisted the dial. He knew there were men who could open a safe like that just by listening to the little clicks it made when he turned it, but he couldn't do that. The black painted metal looked imposingly thick. There was a painting of a rustic scene with dogs and horses on the front, and the dial was massive.

      Luna said, "You think if you could get inside the safe, you could somehow take those papers and make all those businesses yours, don't you?"

      Purdy said, "It had crossed my mind."

      "Forget it. You could kill them all, but you couldn't take control of the business because you don't know the people. The bartender would run the saloon. The whores would take over the whorehouses. You could never do it without help."

      "Would you help me?" Purdy asked.

      She smiled showing even teeth. "I don't know things like that."

      They tried to open the safe, but although they tried several combinations, including things like Nugent's birth date which Luna knew, they failed. The office was small, and Luna's proximity as they stood close to each other trying to find a combination made Purdy still more nervous. He could feel the warmth of her breath, and sometimes she brushed against him. It had been a long time since he'd had a woman, and he found her tremendously pleasing — in a way even more desirable because she was Nugent's wife — and he thought she would be willing. But Purdy thought about being surprised by Nugent, and that cooled him off. His purpose was to get Nugent killed, not himself.

      The smell of baking bread drew Luna to the kitchen, and a few minutes later the Che'en Po brought ham sandwiches and coffee. Luna sat behind Nugent's desk and they ate silently, staring at each other.

      At last she said, "Why do you want to kill him?"

      "I don't," Purdy said. "You heard us talking. I warned him about the others. If I wanted to kill him, I'd have done it when he opened the door to let me in."

      "Why did you tell him all that? If you took money for killing him, you shouldn't have gone back on your word."

      "You don't know me. I'm a natural-born liar."

      "It's because you don't want to kill him yourself, isn't it?"

      His eyes met hers directly. "If you want to think that."

      He took out his watch and opened it. "I watched him go down the hill and go into Watson's place. By now he's probably on his way back. Hopper and Amhearst think that either I'm dead, or I told on them. Even if they think Frank plugged me, they'll kill me when they see me — just in case. They're all scraping up armies down there . . . Watson and Gaines probably going to go up against Amhearst and Hopper, and all of them wanting to get me. Then the group that's left will get Nugent. But Nugent may want to use me to get them first." He smiled at her. "On the other hand, Nugent might just kill me right away."

      "What are you going to do?"

      "So I'm hightailing it out of here." He put on his hat and opened the desk drawer that held the cigars, and took one out of the box and stuck it in his pocket.

      "Take them all," she said.

      "Maybe after somebody shoots him, I will."

      Her eyes met his and held him. "You could have taken a lot more than a cigar."

      He flushed. "I gotta get out of here."

      As he was mounting the sorrel around back, she came out on the back porch and called after him, "Come back if you want to. If he gets killed. Even if you're the one who does it."

      He looked back, touched his hat, and kicked his heels into the sorrel. He wanted out of there. He never planned on anything like this happening — didn't want any added emotions involved . . . all the time he was riding away, he had to fight himself to keep from going back.

      Back in the kitchen, Che'en Po was lost in thought. He had been standing unobserved outside the office door ever since he'd brought them their sandwiches, and he had heard enough to make some plans himself.

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