Read California Killing for Free Online Page B

still flanked by his younger, tougher companions.
    "Go on home all of you," Breen urged. "You ain't helping none, parading the streets like this."
    "We're sure as hell keeping you from sleeping on the job," the woman with the placard retorted.
    "Breen's right," a man put in, and then grinned as the others turned angrily towards him. "We ain't doing no good. Awake, he's as useless as when he's sleeping."
    It drew a trickle of strained laughter.
    "Sheriff, I lost fifty thousand and my best man out in the valley," Dexter complained. "I demand some action."
    Mayer looked across at the rancher. "You Elmer Dexter? Big D spread up north?"
    Dexter nodded curtly.
    Mayer snapped his attention back to Breen. "That makes it real personal," he boomed. "I got a hundred head of the best breeding longhorn at the ranch. And they ain't no use to me until there's a buyer. And there's no buyer until Dexter gets his money back. You better make a move, Breen. Before morning. Then I raise a vigilante committee and we'll do our own hunting."
    The sheriff's expression became even harder and darker as he swung the rifle so that it was trained directly upon Mayer. His voice was quiet, but the tone of the words was determined. "I've told you I'm working on it, Mr. Mayer. And I've told you what I think of vigilantes. Any man takes the law into his own hands will get dealt with by the law."
    "What'll you do, sheriff?" a woman taunted. "Sit in your safe office and stickpins in wanted posters?"
    Breen spat out his cigar stub and ground it into the sidewalk. He seemed about to give vent to another threat, but suddenly whirled and strode back into his office, kicking the door closed with the heel of his boot.
    "Yellow bastard!" Mayer muttered. Then he stiffened as a gun muzzle was rammed into the small of his back.
    "But careful about the words he uses," Edge hissed, moving up close to press himself against the man in front of him, screening the gun from those around him.
    A hubbub of excited conversation had broken out and the word vigilante was frequently voiced: sometimes with excitement sometimes with appreciative relish. But Randy and Duke took no part in this as they turned towards Mayer expectantly. Experienced in sensing trouble, they looked into the face of their boss and snapped their gun hands down to their holsters. The anger of helplessness blazed in their eyes.
    "Tell 'em," Edge whispered, his lips close to Mayer's ear.
    There was a lump in the man's throat and his words squeezed out around it. "He's got me cold. Leave him."
    The frustrated gunslingers backed off a half pace. Dexter elbowed his way between them, unaware of the sudden tension. "I hope you'll hold on to those steers until I can get…"
    "Not now," Mayer hissed, regaining some of his composure.
    Dexter looked over Mayer's shoulder into the ice-cold depths of Edge's eyes. "What's happening?" he demanded.
    "This man owes me something," Edge said.
    "You're crazy," Mayer retorted. "I don't even know you."
    "That's why you're still in one piece, mister;" Edge told him softly. "You didn't know any better. So I'll accept an apology."
    "What the hell for?" Mayer demanded, raising his voice, attracting the attention of the whole group to the drama in its midst.
    Edge kept his own voice low, but in the sudden silence with its distant background of badly played-piano music, everyone heard his words. "My Pa was Mexican. I ain't ashamed of it. You call me Mexican, no sweat. But you just called me Mex, mister. That's got a dirty sound to it."
    "Kind of sensitive, aren't you, Edge?" Dexter snarled.
    "I wouldn't stand there if I was you, feller," Edge told him. "Ain't a lot of meat on this guy. Slug's likely to go clean through him and drill you a new navel."
    Dexter stood his ground, bristling with indignation. "You wouldn't dare."
    Duke stared hard into Edge's face and saw the killer glint in the slits of the eyes. "He'd dare, Mr. Mayer," he warned.
    Mayer's solemn features seemed to be carved