Just Deserts in Las Vegas

by A. R. Winters

  “Rachel said she had the keys to their car. He’s on foot.”

  “And we’re on horses. No contest. Come on.”

  “I’m ready,” Ian said, hands on his hips and a serious look in his eyes.

  I gave him a once over, seeing him almost as if for the first time. My assistant was back in full cowboy getup, Nevada belt buckle gleaming in the morning light. This time he had one addition, though. Carl had handed him his Colt and attached the holster to Ian’s belt for him.

  If I didn’t know Ian any better, I would have thought the outfit actually suited him. He rested a hand on top of the firearm like he knew how to use it, and then proceeded to ruin his new tough-guy image.

  “And so, the Hunter becomes the hunted.”

  Dork.

  Five minutes later, I was riding behind Abner while Ian was behind Eagle-Eyed Bill as we trotted to the end of Main Street.

  “Bill. What do you see?”

  “Someone ran down here this morning and I’d wager it’s our man.”

  “How do you know he ran?” Ian asked.

  “Look at the distance between the footprints. If he was walking they’d be closer together. When they’re that far apart, it means the person was running. See?”

  “Oh, neat! What else can you tell?”

  “Can tell he’s carrying a rifle,” Bill said.

  “Wow! How can you tell that?” Ian squinted down at the tracks we were following. “Is it because the one on the right is a bit deeper, because of the extra weight?”

  There was a long pause, then both Abner and Bill broke into laughter.

  “Nope,” Bill said. “It’s ‘cause I saw him run out the saloon holding my rifle.”

  “Oh.” Ian seemed to deflate.

  “Know what I can tell from the tracks?” Abner asked Ian.

  “What?” Ian was a little warier and more hesitant in his questioning now.

  “I can tell we’re following a city boy who doesn’t know squat about the real world.”

  “Go on, tell us how you can tell that,” I said. It didn’t seem fair for Ian to take all of the jabs from the two old men. I’d take this one for Team Detectives.

  “Because only an idiot would be walking out into the desert.” Abner pointed ahead. “Ain’t nothing this way‘til you get to Bill’s house. And after that, what comes next, Bill?”

  “If you keep going straight? Vegas, I think. But you’d need two camels’ worth of water to walk there. Nope, we’re going to catch up to our little troublemaker before too long, mark my words.”

  And he wasn’t wrong.

  We knew we were getting close to Hunter when he shot us. Or at least, shot at us.

  One moment Bill’s hat was sitting firmly atop his head, the next, it seemed to lift up into the air and a little hole appeared in the top of it. Almost immediately after, a crack echoed through the air.

  The bullet must have just whizzed past Ian because he let out a yelp of alarm and his hand whipped up to paw at his face where the wind of the flying bullet had scared him.

  Bill crouched down lower behind his mount, Ian trying to do the same while he rubbed at his cheek.

  Abner signaled to his horse and immediately we broke away from our position just behind Bill, the animal accelerating to a canter as we circled off to the left. Bill saw what we were doing, and angled his horse off in the other direction.

  As I bounced up and down, I stared at where the bullet had come from.

  “There he is!” I pointed off to my right and saw Ian looking in the same direction.

  Hunter was crouched down among a small mountain of rocks that had perhaps been left there a half-century ago by miners. The barrel of the rifle glinted in the morning sun as it poked out.

  “Get back! Go away or I’ll shoot you!”

  Hunter fired another shot, this one into the air above my head. The crack came after I felt the projectile disturb the air just above me.

  “Give it up, Hunter!” I yelled. “There’s nowhere for you to go!”

  “I said get back! You’ve had your warnings! Come any closer and I’ll blast all four of you.”

  “Don’t much care for being told what to do by some city boy with more money than sense. Even old Bill’s got more brains than this one.”

  “I think he really might shoot us, Abner. He’s lost his mind.”

  Abner turned to look over his shoulder at me. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little lead?”

  “Actually, I am afraid of a little lead. Especially when it’s flying faster than the speed of sound in my direction.”

  That made Abner chuckle. Was this a game to him? Or perhaps he just had a very different philosophy on staying alive.

  “Get out of there!” he yelled. “The sun’ll cook you, just as soon as the rattlers finish biting you.”

  “There aren’t any snakes in Nevada!” Hunter yelled.

  Even I knew that was wrong. There were plenty of snakes if you knew where to look for them. Both human and reptiles.

  “That boy’s never been out of his glass tower, has he?”

  “Coyotes’ll want a piece, too!” yelled Bill toward Hunter’s rock pile, getting in on the action. Hunter didn’t like that much.

  Crack.

  “I said get back! Get! Go away! Just leave me alone!”

  When Hunter yelled he stuck his head up and I managed to get a better look at him. The well-groomed vice president of a Las Vegas bank was looking very much the worse for wear. His eyes were wild, he had stubble on his chin, and he looked to be covered in sweat. He’d be dehydrated in no time out here.

  “Right,” Abner said. “Down you get.”

  I wasn’t sure what he had in mind, but I did as I was told, climbing off the horse.

  “Now what?” I asked him.

  He looked down at me. “Now we capture your friend in the rocks.” Abner turned to face Bill and Ian, who were now about thirty yards away. He jerked a thumb at Ian and then nodded down at me. That was enough for Bill to understand, and in short order Ian was dismounting too.

  “What are you doing?” Hunter yelled.

  “We ain’t doin’ nothing!” Abner yelled. “Enjoy your rock nest in peace!”

  “What’s the plan?” I asked, shielding my eyes from the sun as I looked up at Abner.

  “Bill and I are going to canter around the back of the rock pile. We’ll make a big scene, riding and shouting and yelling. We’ll make him think we’re going to get him from the back.”

  “Okay…”

  “He ain’t got eyes in the back of his head. He’ll either be looking at us, or looking at you. And I wager he’ll be looking at us. No offense, but Bill and I are much more threatening figures than you and the redhead.”

  “None taken. So, while he’s watching you, Ian and I approach from the front. Got it.”

  “Ready?”

  “Yep. Good luck, Abner.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t say good luck. Don’t believe in it.”

  “Well, good riding then.”

  “Yee-haw!” With a nudge of his heels, he sent his horse galloping off, making a very wide circle around Hunter’s position.

  “Giddy-up!” Bill yelled, and he began cantering off in the opposite direction from Abner, making up the opposing side of a loop.

  I looked across at Ian and saw him holding the Colt in his hands. He had it pointed in the right direction at least. I pointed toward Hunter, and he and I both began hurrying forward, taking quick short steps and crouching down behind cacti, bushes, and rocks as we moved.

  The ground was sandy but littered with a good assortment of dark gray rocks, some of which were big enough I had to step around. The air was heating up fast, and I could taste the dust in the air.

  Hunter had spun around in his position and was staring away from us as Abner and Bill completed their half-circles to get behind him, their two horses meeting. The two old men yelled yee-haw and yeah and woo-hoo and get and giddy-up to keep his attention o
n them while they raced around in a small circle about a hundred yards behind Hunter’s position.

  I held my gun ahead of me as I quickly but quietly approached Hunter’s position, trying to stay at least partially hidden by low-lying scrub.

  Hunter must have sensed something was wrong because he turned around despite the best yells coming from Abner and Bill on their mounts.

  “Hey! I said don’t come here!”

  Hunter brought his rifle around to bear in my direction.

  “Freeze!” Ian yelled, pointing the Colt at Hunter. He was too far away to make the shot without a lot of luck. Actually, since it was Ian, he’d have to be about an arm’s length away to have a good chance.

  “You’re surrounded, Hunter. Give it up!”

  “No!” He swung the rifle around and pointed it at Ian. “Drop it!”

  Ian did not drop the Colt. Instead, he pulled the trigger. Five times, one after the other.

  Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.

  Dust whipped up around Hunter while he stuck his head back down into the rocks.

  While Ian was shooting the gun, I rushed forward, meaning to capitalize on the distraction to get up real close and personal.

  Hunter stuck his head up again, a smirk on his face and a wild look in his eyes as he locked his gaze with mine. From behind him came yelling from the two old-timers, and they both began to ride in toward his hideout.

  It was because I was looking at them that I didn’t see the book-sized rock in front of me. The rock that managed to position itself perfectly so that I dug the toe of my sneaker underneath its lip.

  “Oh!” I shouted as I began to fly forward. My arms automatically went out to arrest my fall, and my gun went flying forward to bounce into Hunter’s shoulder.

  His nasty smirk became a wide grin as he saw my mistake.

  I crashed into the ground, sharp little pieces of rock hurting my legs even through the denim of my jeans. My now empty hands slapped onto sand, and immediately I began trying to push myself back up so I could dive out of the way of Hunter’s rifle.

  But I was too late.

  He had it pointing right at me when I raised my head, and he’d lost all sense of reason. His eyes were no longer those of a hardworking, careful saver who planned to retire in a year. They were the eyes of a crazed animal, cornered in its lair, with just as much reason.

  He was going to shoot me.

  And there was nothing I could do about it.

  His mouth went wide as his fingers began to curl on the trigger again.

  This was it.

  But then it wasn’t.

  One moment Hunter’s manic eyes were staring at me, the next his face was covered in fur, and he was flying backward. The rifle rose high into the air, letting off another loud crack as it fired into the sky.

  “Bridget!” With renewed vigor, I burst back to my feet and sprinted the last couple of yards to Hunter’s rocky hideout.

  “Get off! Get off!” Hunter yelled as Bridget yanked at his shirt collar with her teeth.

  I crouched down and picked up my gun as well as the rifle. I placed the rifle behind me, well out of Hunter’s reach.

  “Bridget. Enough.”

  With a final loud bark into Hunter’s face, she hopped off him and leaped back to me, immediately sitting by my side and glaring at Hunter, a low growl emanating from her throat.

  Abner and Bill, atop their now-walking steeds, slowly approached from behind, stopping at the edge of the rocks, blocking any chance of escape in that direction.

  Ian stepped up beside me, pointing the Colt down at Hunter.

  “I give up! I give up!”

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Ian said down to Hunter. “Did he fire six shots or five? To tell you the truth, I’ve forgotten myself.”

  I stared at Ian. Was he doing what I thought he was doing?

  “Ian…”

  He ignored me and kept staring down at Hunter. He really was doing it. Trying to repeat the lines from a movie. Of all the times…

  “In all the excitement, I’ve forgotten myself. But being as this is a, umm, Colt, the most powerful handgun in… my hand, and really would blow your head clean off, you’ve got to ask yourself one question.”

  “I give up! Really! Please. Don’t…”

  “Five, Ian. You shot five times. Not six.”

  Ian stared down at Hunter, eyes cold as death. “‘Do I feel lucky?’ Well, do you, dork?”

  “No! I don’t feel lucky. Please, don’t shoot me.”

  Ian held the gun out to the side and squeezed the trigger.

  Bang!

  The Colt went clattering to the ground as Ian dropped it in shock.

  “What the—?”

  “You fired it five times, Ian. There was one more still in the chamber.”

  “Huh. Lucky I didn’t point it at you.” Ian was looking down at Hunter, who was now whimpering.

  Abner had dismounted from his horse and joined us. He picked up the Colt and looked at Ian.

  “Don’t ever touch one of these again if you know what’s good for you.”

  We brought Hunter back to the saloon to a round of applause from everyone except Rachel, who was understandably distraught.

  Bridget hurried over to Nanna, putting her head on her knee.

  “I told you not to go anywhere!” Nanna scolded.

  Boy was I glad Bridget hadn’t obeyed her. Bridget whined to beg for forgiveness and immediately received it from soft-hearted Nanna.

  Looking around the saloon, I realized one person was missing.

  “Where’s Brad?” I asked.

  Carl jerked a thumb outside. “He drove out to get a cell signal to call the cops.”

  I frowned. “He doesn’t have a car.” My gaze fell to my tote bag, which I’d left on the table after I took out my handgun. Of course. Brad the thief had borrowed my car. I guessed I could forgive him this minor act of grand theft auto though, considering the circumstances.

  “While we wait for them to get here, why don’t you finish clearing all this up for us?” Carl suggested.

  After drinking most of a large bottle of water and pouring a big bowl for Bridget, I did exactly that. I settled down in a chair beside Nanna, hand resting on Bridget’s head, and began.

  “Rachel. When you came out here a few weeks ago, what did you and Nanna talk about?”

  Rachel had a mannequin look about her, as if she really had to concentrate to move, or speak, or think. I guessed it wasn’t too surprising considering she’d just had her whole world turned upside down.

  “She wanted to talk about Pepper,” Rachel said in a quiet but calm voice that was almost robotic. “She was worried about her. She thought Dylan was—sorry, Dylan—but she thought Dylan was a bad influence on her. She asked me to try and have a word with Pepper, to get her to break up with him.”

  “I wish she hadn’t poked her nose in,” Pepper said.

  “But she didn’t tell you about the will, right?”

  Rachel shook her head.

  “That’s because she only told Hunter. Isn’t that right?” I gave our tied up captive a poke in the shoulder to get a response from him.

  Rachel stared at him in surprise.

  “Yes,” Hunter said, all resistance now dissipated. “She took me aside and told me about the change to the will. She wanted to leave Silver Bend to us because she knew we’d know what to do with it, babe.”

  “Don’t babe me,” Rachel said emphatically.

  “But why would she tell Hunter and not Rachel?” Pepper asked.

  “Because you’re friends,” I answered on Hunter’s behalf. “Your Nanna knew that Rachel would insist on not being the recipient in the will, and that if she was, she’d tell you and it would cause a big scene. That’s why she didn’t tell Rachel. But she told Hunter, and swore him to secrecy until her death—which she expected to be long, long in the future.”

  “Why did she want to leave it to me anyway?” Rachel was leaning on the ta
ble in front of her, chin resting on her hands, a look of barely contained horror on her face.

  “Because I stole the money from the ice cream shop,” Pepper said with surprising self-awareness. “She wanted to punish me for it. Right?” Pepper looked my way, as if I was the fount of all the answers. But her father beat me to it.

  “Sounds like something Ma would do,” Carl said. “She believed in justice, even if it was served cold, years or decades later. Sorry, hon, but that’s how your grandma was.”

  “I know,” Pepper said quietly.

  “Why, Hunter? Why did you do it?” Rachel asked.

  He didn’t answer. He sat there in sullen silence, staring at the ground.

  “He lost his job. Didn’t you, Hunter?”

  He ignored me.

  “What?” Rachel asked in disbelief.

  “That’s why he wanted the inheritance early. He lost his job and he’s been spending his days sitting in the park instead of going to work. And maybe going to hardware stores to get bits of wood the exact right size to block cabin doors from opening.” I poked him in the shoulder again. “Right?”

  He slowly nodded in confirmation.

  “Why do those doors open outward anyway?” Carl asked.

  “Beds,” I said.

  “That’s right,” Abner said.

  “What?” Carl asked in confusion.

  Abner didn’t bother to expand any further, so I did it for him.

  “The cabins are too small. When the beds were put inside, the door wouldn’t open all the way. So Abner moved the hinges so that the doors would open outward instead of inward. Right?”

  “Yep. That one’s my fault.”

  In the distance, the sound of sirens began to be audible.

  “Looks like your ride’s nearly here,” I said to Hunter.

  He dropped his head forward and let it bang against the table. No one tried to stop him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Angel was sitting up at our table in the saloon atop a pile of four cushions so she could just about see across to the other side. The saloon didn’t have children’s high chairs yet.

  “Pirate cowboy!” she shouted in delight when Eagle-Eye Bill opened the bar door and shuffled inside. As he got closer, Angel lifted up her fingers and pretended to shoot him. “Pow, pow!”