Showdown Read Online Free Page A

the impression of being bright and competent.
    Prine had three beers in all. He went home and slept well, feeling rested and ready when the rooster announced the day.
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    K arl Tolan said, "I just want to get it over with."
    Rooney said, "That's your trouble, Karl, you always just want to get it over with." He smiled. "I sure hope you're not like that with the ladies. They appreciate a man who takes his time."
    The Skillet was a café next to the railroad roundhouse. They usually met there a couple times a day.
    Tolan frowned. Always with the little digs, Rooney. If Rooney wasn't insulting him about his looks, his clothes, his body odor, his lack of education, he was reminding him that Tolan wouldn't ever make a dime without Rooney to guide him.
    "I take my time, my women got no complaints," Tolan said.
    "That one you gave a black eye had a few complaints, as I recall," Rooney said with a wink in his voice. "What'd you use on her, a club?"
    "She called me a name."
    "What name?"
    "You know. A dumb bastard. Bitch."
    "You went a little overboard, my friend. She could've preferred charges. And if she'd done that, Sheriff Daly would've taken a real serious interest in you. And then he might have been able to figure out what we were doing here."
    "You would've hit her, too, Mac."
    "No, I wouldn't've, Karl. I know how to control myself. Like that time near Cheyenne when you went all crazy on me. If I hadn't kept myself under control, you would've gotten us both hanged." Rooney had paid the woman two hundred dollars not to turn Karl in. Karl had never even said thank you.
    Six kidnappings in three years. Each successful. But the fourth one, the nine-year-old boy in the closet of the tiny house they were renting, a deputy came to the door and Karl grabbed his rifle and was about to start pumping bullets through the wood.
    Thank God Rooney had been smart enough and fast enough to prevent their undoing. He grabbed the barrel of the gun and yanked the rifle from Karl. Then he whispered for Karl to go over and sit down and shut up. Karl could see how pissed Rooney was. He decided he'd better do exactly as Mac said. He went over and sat down. Mac answered the door. The boyish deputies had some questions about their next door neighbors' son. A couple people on the block said the kid was a regular hellion. Had Rooney found that to be the case? No, sir, I haven't. Few times I've seen him, he's been very polite and well-behaved. Well, thank you, sir, appreciate your time.
    Nice little palaver with a hayseed deputy. Harmless as all hell.
    Where dumb frantic Karl would've been blasting the shit out of the deputy through the door for no good reason at all.
    "I'd like to get out of this town. Place spooks me. Why can't we do it tomorrow?" Tolan said.
    "We can do it tomorrow. We can do it anytime we want. But there's one problem."
    "What's that?"
    Rooney gave him his best arrogant smile. "Think real hard, Karl. I think you can figure it out for yourself."
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    P rine counted six cockroaches and numerous rat droppings, and found evidence of lice. This was when he'd been in Tolan's room for less than two minutes.
    The room was less than the size of a jail cell. The bedclothes on the cot had so many different colors of stains on them, it resembled a Navajo rug. The air was rancid with the perpetual odors of chamber pot, cigarettes, vomit, assorted illnesses, and terrible food. But how could you gag down food in a room that smelled like this? Eating next to a latrine would be easier.
    There was no bureau, no closet. Tolan's earthly goods were all packed into a grimy carpetbag, which Prine dumped out on the cot.
    Two shirts, one pair of trousers, three pairs of gray socks that had once been white, long johns that not even bleach could help, a comb, a jacket, a cap, a hand mirror, a Bowie knife, and six photographs of buxom naked ladies flaunting their privates.
    Not a whole hell of a lot of help.
    Prine was in the room for less than four minutes.