Blake Ordle's Arc

Chapter 3 of 6

Blake stayed at the lockup past midnight. Malone sat on his cot and said nothing. Blake had a witness but no lever to pry the name loose. A hardened outlaw does not talk for kindness. Blake needed something Malone wanted, or something Malone feared. He had neither. So he went to the one person who always heard more than she let on. Ellie's cafe glowed with a single lamp when Blake pushed through the door. She was scrubbing a table, sleeves pushed up, her pink dress dusted with flour. A young German shepherd lifted its head from beside the stove and thumped its tail. "You look worse than when you left," Ellie said. She set a bowl of beans and franks in front of him before he sat. "Eat. Then tell me what's stuck." Blake ate and talked. "Malone knows the name. He won't give it. I've got nothing to trade." Ellie kept scrubbing. "That mean-eyed man bragged at my table," she said. "Men like that fear one thing. Getting left behind. You said the boss is three towns ahead, moving without him?" Blake set down his spoon. Malone was not part of the plan anymore. He was a loose end. The door opened. A tall man ducked under the frame, clean-shaven, a star pinned to his vest. Blake stood and gripped his hand hard. "Uncle Drew." Drew had ridden in that week to serve as Blake's permanent deputy, a lawman who wanted the badge earned, not gifted. "Heard you got a man who won't talk," Drew said. No greeting. Blake nodded. "He's afraid of the wrong thing," Blake said slowly. "Let's use it." They walked to the lockup as the sky went gray. Blake unlocked the outer door and faced Malone through the bars. "Your boss switched horses and rode on," Blake said. "He didn't wait for you. He left you here for us to hang." Malone's jaw worked. Blake leaned close. "A man who plans that careful doesn't leave witnesses breathing. He's not coming back for you. He's coming back to make sure you can't ever name him." Drew stepped up beside him. "We can move you. Or we can leave the cell door easy to reach." His voice stayed flat. Malone's hands started to shake on the iron. He looked from Drew to Blake, and the flint in his eyes cracked. "Cole," Malone said. "Silas Cole. He drew the map. He's hitting the bank two towns west, three days out." Blake felt his chest tighten. He had the name at last. Blake locked the door and stepped into the dawn. He finally knew who he hunted. But the man was three days ahead, riding toward another bank Blake could not reach in time. The name had come too late to save the next town.