All Roads Lead Home
by Mary
Poke lay sprawled on the jailhouse floor, blood trickling from his cut lip. He glared up at the sheriff with small piggish eyes that glittered with a mixture of hate and fear.
“I thought I told you to finish off Harper!” the sheriff snarled. “Vince Haskins just came back from the Davis place and saw him walkin’ around big as life. Ya know it’s bad enough that you’re stupid and useless but now I find yer a cheatin’ liar as well. An’ after all I’ve done for you!” he trailed off as he rummaged through his saddlebag.
“The only thing that’s keepin’ me from killin’ you right here and now is this.” He held up a tattered and creased wanted poster. The image on it was poor but the description left no doubt - $500 reward – dead or alive for one Jess Harper.
A feral grin began to form on Poke’s ugly face but the sheriff immediately stopped its progress. “You won’t be seein’ a penny of this. Let’s just call it your way of makin’ things up to me. If you’re real good and don’t piss me off again I might let you, ah, handle things your way,” he concluded. “Don’t sound like the folks who want him care much what kind of shape we deliver him in.”
“I care.” Both men turned to the sound of the voice and saw the figure of Dreb Farley lounging against the door. “I did some checkin’ and it seems our Mr. Harper is known as a fast hand with a gun and doesn’t know when to quit. Not the kind of fella I need teamin’ up with Austin and his men. I don’t just want him dead. I want him held up as an example to anyone else who might just want to try helping out the good widow Davis.”
“Whatcha got in mind?” the sheriff asked.
Looking at Poke who was now struggling to get on his feet, Dreb turned, surveyed his fingernails idly, and said, “Why don’t we just let Poke use his imagination? I only want to make sure everyone sees what happens when I get crossed. You just might want to pay extra attention yourself, McNeil.” His point made, he gave them both an oily smile and left.
The sheriff gave Poke a vicious kick in the flank. “An’ don’ you go getting’ any bright ideas. You kin have yer fun with Harper but not until I say so. You got that?”
Poke gave him a moronic grin; drool dribbling from the corner of his mouth.
“Now I’m going to pay the lovely widow Davis a visit. She won’t be treatin’ me like crap when she sees this here poster. I reckon this’ll take the shine off her new hired hand.”
With that, the sheriff saddled up but not before straightening his tie and with saliva wetted fingers slicked down his unruly mop of hair.
If he had expected a warm welcome as he rode up to the main house of the Davis Ranch, he was sorely mistaken. Dick Austin, heavily armed and flanked by no fewer than five of his equally equipped men met him before he even had time to tie up his horse.
“You better have business here, McNeil. Cause you sure as shit ain’t welcome here socially.”
The sheriff wet his lips and sized up his welcoming party warily. “No cause for bein’ so damned unpleasant there Austin. I’m jus’ here to do you a favor. Word has it you’ve taken on a new hand.”
Dick glared at him but said nothing.
“Well, turns out this hand of yours is a wanted man. I’m just here to take him off your hands before he hurts anyone.”
Six sets of eyes stared at him with steely contempt. The sheriff felt sweat beginning to wet his armpits and bead on his forehead. With a hand he couldn’t stop from shaking, he held out the wanted poster.
After a long uncomfortable moment, Dick snatched it from his hands with thumb and forefinger as though handling something of unspeakable filth and glanced at it only briefly. Then, thrusting it back at him he said, “Those charges were dropped three years ago. Harper’s got the paperwork to prove it. I’ve read it and I’m satisfied.”
“Well, now. You ain’t sheriff no more in case you haven’t noticed an’ I haven’t seen that there paperwork.”
“An’ you ain’t about to. Now if you want to bring out the Marshal, I’ll be more than happy to share it with him. But you’re a no account boot-lickin’ jackal and I ain’t about to lower myself to so much as pass the time of day with crud like yourself.”
He then turned his back and marched back in the house. The next thing the sheriff heard was the sound of five hammers on five revolvers being cocked. He felt a definite loosening in his bowels and decided that this was a fight that could most definitely wait another day.
As he mounted and headed his horse back the way he had come, he turned and said, “You jus’ tell your boss I ain’t through with him yet. This is only just beginnin’.”
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