Sipping Whiskey in a Shallow Grave Read Free

and home was pitching out smoke. They could smell it in the air, along with the scent of lakewater even though the lake itself was still frozen over for the most part.
    Leading his horse by the reins, Ben walked with Emerson down to the livery stable to get his horse tacked up.
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    Watchingthem through a spyglass, Vincent smiled thoughtfully.
    â€œThat them?” Granger asked.
    â€œYeah, that’s them,” Vincent said, and kept watching. Granger held his hand out but realized after a minute that Vincent had no intention of passing the spyglass over. Granger gave up and stomped his feet in the snow a few times to get the circulation going in his toes. The town was straight across the lake. The four of them were camped in a thick stand of pine. The winter snow had drifted up pretty deep in places but they had managed to dig out a little area to watch from. Granger’s toes never warmed up properly and they hadn’t dared to light a fire overnight since they were so close to town. It had only been one night without a fire, but it was a hard night since Granger’s boots were thin.
    The two Mexicans, Poqito and Caverango, quietly observed Granger stomping around in the snow. Neither of them liked the gringo. It was clear Granger wasn’t fond of the Mexicans either and let them know it whenever he could. Poqito wished they had not split off from the rest of the group the day before. Vincent made them both come along, otherwise they would have kept riding with Ned, Will Wyllis, and Lem — who were busy leaving a nice set of horse tracks for the sheriff to follow.
    â€œThey’re at the livery now,” Vincent told them, still looking through the spyglass.
    The sun was coming up but it would be a couple hours before it was high enough to get above the mountains and actually shine on Grand Lake.
    â€œMaybe we could light a fire now,” Granger suggested.
    â€œDon’t waste your time.”
    â€œWhy not… my toes are about froze.”
    Vincent lowered the spyglass and glared back at Granger impatiently.
    â€œSoon as that sheriff rides out, I’ll go get Bill. So saddle your horse and double check the cinch. That whole town’ll be riding hard after us once they realize.”
    He pointed at Granger for emphasis.
    â€œNo fire. If you get cold, just rub your teeth together.”
    That, of course, was a reference to Granger’s front teeth which contained a sizable gap. Granger’s face tightened up. He did not like it when Vincent spoke down to him. Since Bill had gotten captured, Vincent’s condescension seemed to recognize no boundaries. Of course Granger didn’t care for Bill much either — but at least when Bill was around Vincent was less prone to goading remarks.
    The gold and the gold dust they pulled from the Kinsey City bank were right there, in their saddle bags. Granger privately wondered why they were spending the effort to get Bill out of prison. What did they need Bill for, really? That was one less person to split it with. But Granger knew Vincent would not go for that kind of talk, as the two of them had been compadres for many years. But Granger also knew that, if it had been himself in that courthouse cell, Ned wouldn’t be out leaving a false track and Vincent wouldn’t be circling around to bust him out.
    â€œFine,” Granger grumbled and began to stomp around again.
    Poqito and Caverango did not move or speak. They merely continued to watch Granger, warily but patiently. Both of them were nervous that once Vincent left to go spring Bill, Granger’s civility towards them would deteriorate.
    Poqito glanced at Caverango. They both understood one another’s worries, and sneakily unbuttoned their coats — if things went south, they could make a grab for their gunbelts a little easier. Poqito knew Granger’s gun was already in the man’s pocket, where he had his hands buried at the moment. He hoped Vincent