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killer by lookin’ at him?” Bullet asked.
    â€œYes, I do.”
    â€œAs a lawman I sure wish I had that ability,” Bullet said. He turned to Clint. “To answer your question, no, I don’t think any of those people are the killer. I don’t feel somebody could have gotten away from camp to commit this murder without being missed.”
    â€œI agree,” Clint said.
    â€œDid you get him a hotel room?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThen I think we should be ready to leave in the mornin’,” Bullet said. “We’ll go out to the site and start from there.”
    â€œI would like to walk around town,” Talbot said.
    â€œLookin’ for the killer?” Bullet asked.
    â€œJust . . . walking,” Talbot said.
    â€œFine with me,” Bullet said. “We’ll meet in front of the hotel at seven a.m.”
    Talbot nodded and looked at Clint.
    â€œI’ll see you at the hotel later,” Clint said. “We’ll get something to eat together.”
    â€œAs you wish.”
    Talbot nodded, and left, taking the Winchester with him.
    â€œSo what’s in the bag?” Bullet asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” Clint said. “He hasn’t shown me.”
    â€œAren’t you curious?”
    â€œI am, but I’m waiting for him to tell me on his own,” Clint said. “What did you find out here in town while we were gone?”
    â€œNothin’,” Bullet said. “Nobody knows the dead man. He’s a complete stranger.”
    â€œThat’s odd,” Clint said. “Not a townie. And not with the train.”
    â€œI know. You really want to eat with this guy? He’s . . . kind of weird.”
    â€œYes, but there’s something about him . . . I’m hoping I can get him to trust me and open up.”
    â€œWell, good luck,” Bullet said. “I’ll be eating on my own.”
    â€œSo then I’ll see you in the morning,” Clint said.
    â€œHere,” Bullet said. He opened a desk drawer, came out with a box of Winchester shells, and tossed it to Clint, who caught it one-handed. “Give that to your friend.”
    Clint waved with the box and left the office.

THIRTEEN
    Clint went back to the hotel, left the box of shells in his room. He’d give them to Talbot later.
    He went back outside and stopped just in front of the hotel. He imagined Talbot walking around town, looking into people’s faces to see if they were killers or not. Could he really tell? Was he that good?
    He started to walk, found himself in front of Rita’s dress shop. He hadn’t seen Talbot at all up to here, but then he wasn’t really looking for him. He decided to go inside.
    A bell tinkled as he entered. There were two women at the counter—an older woman and a girl who was undoubtedly her daughter. Rita St. John looked over their shoulders at Clint, and smiled.
    â€œThank you so much, Rita,” the older woman said. “You’ve been very helpful.”
    â€œIt was my pleasure, Mrs. Rhodes. Good-bye, Amanda. Enjoy the dress.”
    â€œI will, ma’am,” the girl said. When they turned around, Clint could see the daughter was about sixteen, and very pretty. The mother was about forty, and had been pretty at one time.
    â€œGood day, ladies,” he said, opening the door for them. Then he turned to Rita, still standing by the door.
    â€œHow’s business?” he asked.
    â€œBetter than yesterday,” she said. He could see that her breathing had already increased.
    â€œReally? Then I guess you don’t want me to do this.” He turned the sign in the door window from OPEN to CLOSED , then looked at her again.
    â€œI don’t know,” she said. “What did you have in mind?”
    â€œI thought maybe you’d show me your storeroom.”
    â€œYou want to see my storeroom?”
    â€œNot really,” he said,