Blind Tiger
“Be right there.” He stood and bent over Laurel. “I’ll see you later.”
“Yes. However late it is.”
As he backed toward the door, they stretched out their arms, keeping their fingers touching for as long as possible before they fell away.
* * *
Thatcher exited through a door in the rear of the building, where Irv’s truck was parked. As he approached it, he overheard Corrine saying to Irv, “Miss Laurel said you’d have a hissy fit if you knew she’d given me her little gun. But good thing she did. I can’t wait to tell Ernie about Gert. He’ll be so proud o’ me.”
Deputies were grouped around the tailgate, talking quietly among themselves. Thatcher felt a kick of apprehension. “What’s the matter?”
“He won’t come out,” Scotty said.
“What do you mean? He can’t walk. Lift him out and carry him.”
“We tried. He threatened to fire all of us. He said he wouldn’t go under the knife till he had talked to you.”
“Thatcher,” Bill called. “Get in here.”
The others shuffled aside as Thatcher made his way to the raised tailgate and looked over it into the bed of the truck. Bill was lying on his back, sweating profusely and in obvious pain.
“What the hell, Bill? Doc’s got everything ready for you upstairs.”
“I need to talk to you. Get in. You others,” he said, raising his voice, “make yourselves scarce.”
Thatcher lowered the tailgate and stepped up onto it, saying over his shoulder, “Give us a few minutes.”
“Uh, Thatcher?”
He paused and looked back. Harold was threading the brim of his hat through his fingers. It seemed he’d been appointed the spokesperson. “We, uh. You did okay out there today. I mean, damn good.” The others nodded. “We’d all take you out for a beer, except, well, you know. This danged Prohibition.”
The awkward invitation was their way of apologizing for the slights. Thatcher bobbed his chin. “A beer would go down real good. Some other time.”
They all breathed a collective sigh. Scotty said, “We’ll wait over here.” They moved away as a group, giving Bill the privacy he’d asked for.
Thatcher hunkered down beside him. “What’s this bullshit about?”
“Leg’s hurting like a bastard.”
“Then let us get you in there so the doc can fix you up.”
“I’m scared of ether.”
“You’ll sleep it off.”
“I sent one of the men to tell Daisy. Hated to. Alice Cantor sent back word that she’s doing a lot better. Got some scrambled eggs down her. She’ll bring her to see me tomorrow.”
“That’s good news. Let’s go.”
Bill caught Thatcher by the sleeve.
“Something else.” He settled his head on the floor of the truck and stared at the tarpaulin stretched overhead. “Soon as I’m able, I’ll be turning myself in. I took Bernie’s bribes. Let Hiram…others…get away with murder. Like killing that boy Elray. He’ll be on my conscience for a long time.”
Thatcher wanted to say Mine, too, but Bill didn’t give him a chance.
“Being lax kept things peaceful. But I’m a crook, same as the rest. Past time I owned up to it.” He blinked sweat from his eyes and grimaced with pain.
“This confession can wait, Bill.”