Dan Shaye stood outside the Renegade, saw three of Doucette’s men come out. He decided to follow them rather than go inside and see what was happening.
The three men walked on one side of the street, Shaye on the other. He followed along until they reached a smaller, quieter saloon called The Gold Spike. They went inside, and he took up a position across the street. He gave them time to order drinks before he crossed over and stopped just outside the batwing doors, where he could see and hear.
“. . . we hadda leave the Renegade,” one of them was complaining. “I was about to start winnin’.”
“The boss just said we hadda get out,” one of the other men said.
The three of them were standing at the bar, holding beers. There were several other men in the place, one at the bar, two seated at tables. The only other occupants were the bartender and one saloon girl. She was young, but tired looking.
“And,” the second man said, “he told us to stay outta trouble, or else we’ll get tossed in jail like Chet and Roscoe did.”
“Ain’t we even gonna try to get ’em out?” the third man asked.
“Naw, he said if they was dumb enough to get locked up, they could stay there.”
“That ain’t right,” the third man said, shaking his head. “Just ain’t right.”
“I should be winnin’ money in that poker game,” the first man complained again.
Shaye turned away from the door, leaned against the wall next to it. He couldn’t see what was going on, but he could still hear them. The way they were grousing, it was only a matter of time before there was some trouble. All he had to do was wait.
Doucette watched as Tate Kingdom walked to his poker game, still carrying his beer mug, and sat down. Then he finished his own beer, stood up and walked out.
He looked up and down the street, didn’t see any of his men. Two ladies walked past and he tipped his hat to them and said, “Good day, ladies.”
They nodded to him pleasantly and kept walking.
He decided to take a stroll past city hall. Maybe the mayor had a window on the main street, and would see him standing out there. Yeah, that would do for now.
That would do just fine.
Doucette’s three men kept drinking a second beer and then, quickly, a third. Before long the saloon began to fill up, and the three men were pushing and shoving each other, still complaining about being sent from the Renegade.
“What about a whorehouse?” one of them said. It sounded like the first man, who’d been playing poker at the Renegade. “There’s gotta be a whorehouse in town.”
“Ask the bartender,” the third man said. “He should know.”
“Hey, now,” the first man said. “Didn’t Doucette tell us to stay away from any cathouses? Yeah, he said that when we first got here.”
“So what?” the first man said. “There ain’t no poker goin’ on in here, and there’s only the one saloon girl. I can’t stay in this place all night.”
“Well,” the man who was the voice of reason said, “I ain’t goin’ to no whorehouse. I ain’t gettin’ Cole Doucette mad at me.”
“I ain’t afraid of no Cole Doucette,” the first man said.
“Well, you should be.”
“Hey,” the third man said, “what about this girl? She’s kinda weary lookin’, but she’s young.”
“Yeah, she is,” the first man said, “and she’s got pretty enough hair. Hey, sweetheart, come on over here.”
Here it comes, Shaye thought. The waiting was going to be worth it, because these men were all the same. Given enough time, they just made the wrong decision, every time.
Mayor Abner Snow was in his office in the city hall building, sitting at his desk. He still didn’t like the idea of hiding in his office or his house, but what else could he do? Shaye was right. He was no match for Cole Doucette.
He took care of some business as the day wore on, but every time there was a knock at the door, he jumped out of his skin, thinking it was Doucette coming to get him.
He stood up, walked to the window and looked down at Main Street. About to turn away, he suddenly saw the man across the street, and froze.
Cole Doucette, looking right up at the window. He saw Snow standing there, and waved. Did the man really expect him to wave back?
He backed away from the window so hard and fast, he banged his hip against his desk. What should he do? Stay there or leave by the back way and go to his house? Did Doucette know where he lived? He probably did. All he had to do was ask somebody.
Everybody in Vengeance Creek knew where the mayor lived!