Chris had fled to the saloon after leaving Mary's office. His mind tried to reconcile the new knowledge with the old. Joseph Grant. A new name, but the same face. The murders of Sarah and Adam made perfect sense now. Why he was still alive made sense, and soon he'd hear from Mary or Molly why this man wanted to kill the children of his former partner, but the connection between the murders was now clear. It all made sense. He closed his eyes and remembered.

"Chris, it will be alright. I promise." Joseph Larabee tried to reassure his son.

"Alright how? Are you an' ma just gonna start over? It's all gone. Every damned penny you had is in Uncle Carl's pocket, headed God-only-knows-where." Chris slumped back against the wall. "Your brother ruined you, pa. Ruined everything. If I ever find him, I'm gonna kill him."

"You don't mean that, son."

"What are we gonna do?" Chris had put away money of his own, planning to use it to go east and get an education. Now that money would have to go to keep his parents from losing their farm.

"We'll make do. This isn't the first time I've had to start over." The elder Larabee tried to keep his concern out of his voice.

"Yes it is." Chris glared at his father. "You chose to start over before, this time you were forced. It ain't the same."

Joseph Larabee nodded slightly. "True, it's not the same thing. But we'll get by. When you visit during school breaks…."

"No. There won't be any school." Chris dug into his coat pocket, pulling out an envelope.

"It's yours an' ma's. I won't be needin' it anymore. Come tomorrow I start work at the mill, that should help some."

"Chris, I cannot let you…."

"Pa, I want to do this." Turning his back to his father, sixteen-year-old Chris Larabee added, "And I meant what I said about Uncle Carl."

"Ezra." Josiah rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. "Come look at this."

"You've found something?"

"Could be." Sanchez looked up as Ezra came to stand next to him. "Do you remember the design on those silver coins? Looked somethin' like this" Josiah tapped a finger onto the document in front of him. "didn't it?"

A grin split the gambler's face. "So it did. I believe we should locate Mr. Larabee."

Once Nathan and J.D. arrived at the Clarion, with Billy Travis in tow, Buck all but flew out the office door.

"Whoa there, Buck. Slow down." Vin Tanner had been about to enter the building when the larger man nearly knocked him back into the street.

"You seen Chris?" Buck asked.

"I thought I'd find him here."

"I'm thinkin' saloon. Vin, he knows who killed his family now. An' that ain't the worst of it." Buck started to explain but Tanner had already begun to walk away. "Where're you going?"

"To get Josiah and Ezra. Save Chris havin' to tell the story more'n once. Get me a beer, would ya?" The tracker headed down the boardwalk.

Vin was no longer in the saloon when Molly returned, but Larabee sat along the back wall, staring at something only he could see. She headed for the bar.

"Molly." Dan set her up, fetching her private stock from behind the bar. Tennessee whiskey. The local substitute always made her want to shoot some one, and she did enough of that as it was.

"Thanks, Dan. He drinking?" She jerked her head toward the shadow along the wall.

"Shoot, gal. That man's always drinkin'. But today he's drinkin' a lot less than usual." Dan shot Chris a worried glance before continuing. "Somethin' I should know about, Molly?"

Laughing softly, Molly patted the barman's hand. "Don't worry, Dan. I'll let you know if the bullets are about to start flying." She drained her whiskey and reached for the bottle. "I could use another glass."

"Chris?" Molly sat down across from the blond gunman, pouring them each a drink.

"Joseph Grant ain't his real name." Chris took a sip, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

"Damn, where'd this come from?"

"Private stock." Molly smirked.

"I can see I'm gonna have to have a talk with ol' Dan." He stared at the amber fluid. "Grant's real name is Larabee. Carl Larabee. He's my uncle."

Christ. Molly tried to read his expression.

"Twenty years ago I swore I'd kill him if I ever laid eyes on him again." Chris looked her squarely in the eyes. His disbelief had begun to fade. "My uncle, my uncle, killed my wife and child."

Molly leaned back in her chair. "He wants to kill the Judge. He killed Stephen to hurt him, he wants to kill me to hurt him some more. When he's finished killing everyone my father cares about, he'll kill the Judge himself. That's what I think." She added softly, "He also killed one of his law partners."

Chris drained his glass and watched as Molly refilled it. "He hadn't killed anybody the last I saw him." He frowned and amended his statement. "That I know of. I guess I'm not surprised."

"But you hated him."

"He always talked big. Big plans, big man. My pa had a farm in Indiana. Nothin' special, but we did all right. Uncle Carl'd visit a couple times a year, showin' off his fancy clothes and tellin' tall stories…I loved it." Chris shook his head in disgust. "I loved it. His last visit, he stole everything my pa owned. All his money. Anything he could carry away in the night." He smiled bitterly. "I'd won a rifle in a shootin' contest the year before an' he even stole that. Pa ended up sellin' his land and movin' into town. I worked a couple of jobs, my ma and sisters worked. Pa worked harder than anyone. He died 'bout six months after movin' us to town. Ma moved back in with her family and took my sisters with her.

I never saw any of 'em again. Hell, I don't even know what happened to any of 'em."

Chris sipped his whiskey. "That reason enough to want to kill him?"

Molly nodded. "So let's find the bastard and do it."

"Any ideas on how we do that? Find him?"

"Maybe. Just maybe." It was Molly's turn to smile. "And if you'd think about it for a minute or two, so would you."

Chris glared accusingly at her, but Molly saw the moment he realized what she was getting at. "Eagle Bend."

"Eagle Bend." Molly agreed.

"We need a plan." Larabee looked regretfully at the whiskey bottle sitting between them. "And a pot of coffee."

"Our efforts were for naught? Is this what I am hearing? Mr. Sanchez, have you heard the news? We have labored in vain, hours of…" Ezra Standish broke off as he entered the hotel dining room and caught sight of the weary faces of his friends.

"Found 'em." Vin drawled as he passed by Ezra to claim an empty chair across from Chris. Buck was already seated at the table.

Ezra quietly approached and handed Chris the letter he had discovered earlier, pointing out the family crest near the top. While not properly a deed, the paper attested to one Marcus Gerard having sold the hotel property to Wheeler, the partner of the man who had shot and killed Stephen Travis.

"Marcus Gerard. He's usin' a new name. Again." Chris read the contents of the letter, and one item jumped out at him. "An' he's livin' near Eagle Bend. Shouldn't be too hard to find out if he's got land 'round there. I'm bettin' he does."

"I'm thinkin' we might want to go for a ride down that way." Buck was remembering the last visit they had paid to Eagle Bend. It had started with a bartender's murder and had ended with Fowler's death.

"Soon as Mary an' Billy are safe." Chris agreed. "They're gonna be on the mornin' stage to Ridge City. Vin, you an' Nathan meet up with 'em 'round Sawyer's Pass, take 'em to the stay with the Seminoles 'til this is over. No one but us will know where they are."

"You wire the Judge's wife?" Buck asked.

Chris shook his head. "Molly did. She also sent wires to some friends of the Judge, asked them to keep an eye on her. The Judge is in Benson. She wired him to stay put."

Vin laughed at that. "You think Judge Travis is gonna listen? How long 'fore court lets out in Benson?"

"A couple of days. He's got one more town, and then Four Corners. I'm figurin' he'll be at least a week yet. Maybe more." Chris snorted. "Hell, any luck and Gerard will be dead by then."

Ezra waited for silence to descend before speaking up. "It occurs to me, gentlemen, that the fine residents of Eagle Bend will not be particularly helpful to us, what with the memory of our last visit so fresh in their minds." As all eyes turned to him, he smiled and laid out his plan.

In the predawn hours, Rafe Mosely left Four Corners headed east. Rafe had grown close to the Four Corners guardians after the young man's father had been imprisoned for murder. The victim had been the boy's sister and the tragedy had left him forever changed. Whereas before he had been reckless, he was now serious and deliberate. He had become intent on a career as a lawman and had made it clear to all concerned that he wanted to help in any way possible. At Ezra's urging, Chris granted Rafe his wish and sent him to Eagle Bend

Two hours after sunrise, and a hearty breakfast, Buck and Ezra left town along the same road. Another hour passed before Vin and Nathan rode to the south. Mary and Billy Travis left on the eastbound noon stage. Anyone watching would have difficulty connecting the departures, or so it was hoped.

Chris and J.D. watched the stage's departure from the boardwalk fronting the jail. J.D. tugged nervously at his guns. He didn't like being left behind.

"J.D., head on over to Nettie's and let her know what's going on. It could be we'll need to hide some folks a while, ask her if she's willin' to help out." Chris started to walk to the saloon, pausing to add. "And you might want to tell Casey to stay at home for few days."

"I will." J.D. headed for the livery as if the Devil himself were on his heels.

Chris entered the saloon, his eyes automatically sweeping the room, looking for possible threats. He moved to join Josiah and Molly at a rear table. As he sat down, Josiah poured him a drink.

"The stage has left, I take it." The grizzled preacher's eyes lacked their usual warmth and humor. He found nothing amusing about the current state of affairs.

Nodding his head, Chris agreed. "And now we wait."

"Not an easy thing to do, even in the best of times." Josiah suggested.

Molly snorted. "It's an acquired skill." She rose from the table. "I'll be back in a minute."

Watching her departure, the two men sipped their drinks in silence. Everything that could be done had been done. In two days time they would either have the needed information or they would not. No amount of worrying would change the outcome.

"J.D.?" Josiah was the first to speak.

"Sent him out to Nettie's." A smile tugged at Chris' lips. "Figured he might want to see Casey."

"I suspect he might at that." Josiah's smile was as big as the man himself.

Chris turned serious. "Josiah, I got no right to…"

"Ask us to fight with you?" Josiah smile faded, but not completely. "No…you don't. But as I remember it, you didn't ask."

Downing the whiskey, Larabee stared straight ahead. "I might just get you all killed."

"You might. But you aren't the only one your Uncle has hurt, Chris. He killed Stephen Travis, he tried to kill Molly, and he wants to kill the Judge. The way I see it, you're only one part of this." Josiah refilled Larabee's glass.

Neither man spoke again until Molly returned to the saloon, heading for the bar rather than their table.

"You two do much talking?" Josiah asked as he watched the woman talking with Dan.

Chris glanced at the preacher. "'Bout what?"

Before Josiah could answer, Molly turned and headed their way with a fresh bottle in hand.

"Thought we finished off your stock?" Chris warily eyed her burden.

"We did. This is Ezra's." Molly grinned and set the whiskey on the table. Taking her seat, she uncorked the bottle. "Your gambler friend has excellent taste."

"So he tells us." Josiah emptied his glass and held it out for Molly to fill.