Clint went out the front door with Brenda, and saw Gator coming.
“Thanks for the information, Brenda.”
She smiled. “Thanks for everythin’ else.”
She went off down the street as Gator reached Clint.
“What’ve you got?” Gator asked.
“Ten men, that’s what Erskine has. What about you?”
“They took Sinclair over to a cheap hotel and got him a room, but then him and the other men went back to the saloon.”
“And Erskine?”
“I don’t know where he went,” Gator said. “I could only follow Sinclair and the other man.”
“That’s okay.”
“So there could be nine men in that saloon right now.”
“Too many for us to take on,” Clint said. “I think Erskine is going to send Sinclair after me first.”
“Is he good?”
“Practically all the men in that family are good with a gun,” Clint said. “And he’s one of Dick’s sons, so he’s bound to be very good.”
“Good enough to take you?”
“It’s possible, I guess,” Clint said. “It’s always possible I’ll run into somebody faster than I am.”
“Well, let’s hope it’s not soon,” Gator said.
~*~
Clint and Gator decided to have supper together, and include Father Paul and Tully. Clint figured there was safety in numbers. Ten men would think twice about attacking four, when they could attack one.
The found a busy restaurant and got a table near the back because the owner knew Father Paul, and was not a follower of Stoll.
Once they sat, had coffee and placed their orders—all steaks—Clint asked the priest, “How many followers do you still have?”
“I prefer to refer to them as parishioners,” Father Paul said, “or members of my flock. Stoll had followers.”
“Sorry.”
“A flock is different from what Stoll has?” Gator asked.
“Yes,” the priest said.
Gator shrugged. “Sounds the same to me.”
“Well, it isn’t,” Father Paul said.
“I’m just sayin’,” Gator commented.
“You’ve been to my church, Gator.”
“Yeah, but I ain’t in no flock, Father,” Gator said. “I mean a ‘flock,’ that means sheep.”
“Now listen—”
“Okay,” Clint said, “let’s put this discussion aside for another time. Like when we get your church reopened.”
“I’m for that,” Gator said.
Father Paul looked at him and said, “Thanks.”
Gator reached out and nudged the priest on the shoulder.
Tully sat through the whole conversation, his eyes darting around the room, nervously.”
“Nothing’s going to happen here, Tully,” Clint said.
“How do we know?”
“If there’s shooting in here, innocent people will get hurt. Stoll is not going to want to have to deal with that.”
“How the hell do we know what Stoll will or won’t do?” Tully asked. “He’s a madman, isn’t he?”
“I might have thought that, too,” Clint said, “but now, not so much.”
“Why?” Father Paul asked. “What’s changed?”
The steaks came and Clint waited for the waiter to lay them out before answering the priest’s question.
“I’m thinking about politics,” he said.
“What’s this got to do with politics?” Gator asked.
“Haven’t you ever wondered why an ambitious politician like your mayor would roll over for a charlatan like Stoll?”
“I don’t understand,” Father Paul said.
“I do,” Tully said. “Clint thinks the mayor and Stoll are working together.”
“But why?” Gator asked. “What’s he got to gain?”
“I don’t know,” Clint said. “I just started to think about this. Brenda told me she saw the mayor out at the compound recently, talking with Stoll.”
“Those two, together?” Father Paul said. “You know, I never liked Cates. Didn’t vote for him.”
“Neither did I,” Gator admitted.
“Then we might just be able to kill two birds with one stone,” Clint said.
“Or a whole lot of lead,” Tully added.