Slocum and the Spirit Bear (9781101618790) Read Free Page A

pick sides, Slocum defused the situation by reaching into his pocket and pulling out a slim wad of bills. “This is all I have,” he said.
    The sheriff snatched the money away from him as if he was expecting repercussions. All he got was a look from Slocum that could have peeled the paint off the side of a barn. “I only count seventy-five dollars here.”
    â€œTake it,” Slocum growled.
    â€œYou know I will.” Good to his word, the lawman pocketed the money and stepped up so he was close enough to butt heads with Slocum. He leaned in and stopped just shy of knocking his hat against the other man’s forehead. “Next time there’s a problem in town, you find me. And the next time you decide to leave another body on one of my streets, you should bring enough to pay the piper. Hand over that gun next time you pass my office.”
    â€œYou’re the piper, huh?” Slocum chuckled. “I suppose you spout more than enough wind to fit that bill.”
    The sheriff continued to nod as he walked away. The moment he saw he was being watched by a group of locals, he raised both hands and strolled toward the building behind which Vaccaro’s body was lying. “Everyone just take it easy! I’m sorting this mess out right now. Go about your business, folks!”
    Slocum furrowed his brow and let out a breath that appeared as steam curling from between his lips. “Think I’ll need two drinks.”
    â€œThey’re both on me, friend,” Ed was quick to say.
    â€œThey’d better be. What money I got stashed in my boots is hardly enough to see me through a day or two. If that pig found out I had that much, he’d scrounge for it himself.”
    â€œI thought he would take your gun,” Ed said.
    â€œNah. Then he wouldn’t have an excuse to fine me again later.”
    When the two of them got to the River Wheel Saloon, Ed tied his horse to a post outside and followed Slocum into a room that was somehow warm and inviting despite the fact that it stank of stale cigar smoke and spilled beer. Slocum approached the bar, slapped his hand against it, and asked for a bottle of whiskey with a pair of glasses. Once Ed came up beside him, Slocum pushed one of the glasses over to him and said, “I don’t expect you to buy the whole bottle. Just chip in for your share.”
    â€œI will buy the bottle,” Ed said loudly enough for the barkeep to hear. “I’ll need it to keep me warm for the ride back to Nebraska.”
    â€œCold time of year for that trip,” Slocum mused. “Much easier during the spring.”
    â€œWe headed out months ago, but were delayed by a bad bit of luck involving those robbers I mentioned earlier.”
    Slocum tipped his glass back and allowed the firewater to run its course through his body. “That’s right. You did mention it.”
    â€œWe tried to get going sooner, since it became clear that the longer we waited, the poorer we’d become.”
    â€œThat’s usually how it works.”
    â€œYes sir, it is,” Ed sighed. He took his drink and winced slightly at the burn that started at the back of his throat and became a more bearable heat as it trickled down. “Sounds like you’ve had a recent spot of trouble yourself, Mr. Slocum.”
    â€œMight as well call me John. And yeah. There was some trouble. Nothing that a lawman who works to earn his pay couldn’t fix.” Slocum was sure to say that last part loudly enough for his words to carry throughout the saloon. Most of the folks in there either raised their glasses or had better things to do than grouse about the local civil servants. Lowering his voice to a more sociable level, Slocum said, “There was a dispute over a gambling debt.”
    â€œWhat . . . uh . . . what kind of dispute?”
    â€œSome asshole swore two pair beat three of a kind and he thought he could prove it with a