Red Fleming watched Thomas Shaye come out of the sheriff’s office. He recognized him from Vengeance Creek. Red backed into a doorway as Shaye looked both ways on the street. Then when the deputy started walking, he followed from a safe distance all the way to the saloon, where he took up a position across the street in an alley.
Thomas went to the Cantina Rosita, and the bartender greeted him in a friendly manner.
“Señor, you are back!” he said happily.
“I was told I could get a room and a meal here,” Thomas said. He didn’t say anything about a pretty señorita.
“But of course, señor,” the bartender said. “We have very fine rooms upstairs.”
“And you have one available right now?”
“Si,” the man said. He reached under the bar and came out with a key. “Number two, just for you.”
Thomas accepted the key. “I’d like to put my things in the room, and then come down and eat somethin’.”
“Si, señor,” the bartender said. “We do a very fine supper.”
“That’ll do,” Thomas said. “I’ll be right down.”
Thomas went up to his room, which he found to be almost as small as one of the jail cells back in the Shayes’ jail. The mattress was paper thin, the flimsy dresser was covered with dust, as was the window sill. The window overlooked the street. He peered out for several moments, looking down at the siesta-time front street. He was about to turn away when he spotted something else, something odd.
Red Fleming saw Thomas Shaye in the window of a room above the Cantina Rosita, and quickly stepped back into the alley to avoid being seen. If the deputy saw him and came out to challenge him, he might end up being in a shootout in the street, and he wasn’t ready for that. He’d heard some stories about Shaye’s speed with a gun. Red was a gang leader, a planner, and a leader of men. Although he was fast with a gun, it was not something that was at the top of his own list of accomplishments. Facing Thomas Shaye out in the street was in his future plans, but only when he was ready. That kind of foolishness was his brother, Harry’s, idea of a plan. But Red knew when they did challenge the deputy, it would be the two of them together, or himself alone. He’d not let Harry ever meet Shaye by himself.
He peered around the building from the alley and saw that Shaye’s window was empty. He decided to get closer.
Thomas backed away from the window.
There was a man across the street in an alley, watching the building. It was either one of the Fleming brothers, or the sheriff had put somebody on his tail. He decided to see to his personal needs before anything. That meant a wash, a drink, and a meal.
Red Fleming peered into the cantina, didn’t see Shaye anywhere. There were only a few people inside, and the bartender. He moved to one of the front windows, which was covered with grime, but still afforded him a view of the inside. He settled down to watch and determine whether or not Thomas Shaye was alone in Nogales.
Thomas came down and saw one of the cantina tables set for a meal.
“Here you go, señor,” the bartender said, coming over to stand next to the table. “A fine meal.”
“It looks good,” Thomas said. “Thanks.”
“Cerveza with the food?”
“Yes, please.”
Thomas sat down at the table, which was covered with platters of meat, beans, vegetables, and tortillas. He spread one of the tortillas on a plate, shoveled food onto it, then rolled it up and took a bite.
“How is it, señor?” the bartender asked, returning with the beer.
“It’s very good,” Thomas said. “Thank you for this and the beer.” He looked around. “When does this place liven up?”
“Right after siesta time,” the bartender said. “Customers will begin coming in to drink and eat and . . .”
“And?”
“And see my girls.”
“The pretty señoritas,” Thomas said.
“Si,” the bartender said.
“What’s your name?”
“I am Manolito, señor,” the man said. “Everyone calls me Mano.”
“Well, Mano,” Thomas said, “I’m still lookin’ for two men, brothers, who robbed a bank in my town, Vengeance Creek.”
“Like I told you, señor,” Mano said, “I have not seen any such men here in Nogales.”
“Maybe they just haven’t come into your place,” Thomas said. “How many other hotels are there in town? And cantinas?”
“There are three hotels,” Mano said, “and many cantinas. I can tell you where they all are. Maybe you will find the men you are looking for at one of them.”
Thomas continued to eat and listened while Mano gave him the lineup of hotels and cantinas.
“You’re bein’ very helpful, Mano,” he said, then. “Why is that?”
“Señor,” the bartender said, reproachfully, “I am a law-abiding citizen of Mexico.”
“Uh-huh,” Thomas said, taking that comment with a full grain of salt. “And?”
“And perhaps,” the bartender said with a shrug of his shoulders, “when you catch the men you are looking for, if there is a reward . . .”
“I see,” Thomas said, rubbing his jaw. “Well, I’m sure they’re wanted somewhere. And if your information helps me catch them, I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t get the reward money.”
“Señor,” the barman said, with a very broad smile, “you have made me a very happy man. I will leave you now to enjoy your meal.”
“Thank you, Mano.”
Fleming watched through the grimy window as Shaye destroyed the food on the table. After the initial conversation with the bartender, there was no more talking. Even if Shaye was asking the man about him and his brother, Harry, there was no problem. The Flemings had never stepped foot in the Cantina Rosita.
The more Red watched Thomas Shaye, the more convinced he became that the man was alone.
Easy pickings.