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glance at Brock. He was standing by the gaming tables, and he had an amused look on his face. But his arms were crossed, and it didn’t look like he was going to step in.
    Shorty was about to say something when I cleared my throat and got their attention. They turned around, and as they did the elderly couple stood and moved out of the line of fire.
    “Well now,” Shorty sneered. “If it ain’t the great Lee Mattingly.”
    “That’s me.”
    “I’ve heard you’re some hand with a Colt,” Shorty scoffed.
    “You heard right,” I said, and added, “I’ll have to ask you boys to leave. Now.”
    “What for?” Shorty asked, startled.
    “Harassing the customers.”
    “But we just got here,” Shorty objected.
    “When you got here makes no difference to me,” I replied.
    They didn’t like that. They glanced at each other and looked back at me.
    “And if we don’t?”
    I smiled.
    “You boys have two choices. You can walk outta here, or you can be dragged out. Doesn’t really matter to me.”
    “We ain’t going nowhere.”
    I nodded. My shoulders were relaxed, and I was ready.
    “You have a reputation and all, but that doesn’t matter to us,” Shorty sneered. “You ain’t nothing special.”
    “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
    That did it. Shorty’s eyes went hard, and he grabbed for his Colt.
    Shorty was fast. We cleared leather at the same time, and the sound of our Colts blended together.
    My aim was true, but Shorty fired too soon. His bullet tore into the boards at my boots, and I heard a sharp whip as the bullet ricocheted.
    There was a sound of broken glass behind me as I jumped sideways.
    The tall man had fumbled his draw, and he was just bringing his Colt up when I fired into him. The bullet hit him in the chest with a thud, and he went flying backwards into the back wall. 
    Shorty was still standing, and he had a shocked look on his face. I started to shoot him again, but he dropped his Colt and crumpled forward before I could.
    Meanwhile, the tall man was leaning against the back wall with a dazed look. A hole in his chest oozed blood out as he slumped to the floor.
    There was a haze of smoke in the room, and I squinted through it. Near as I could tell, both men were dead.
    There was a sound at the door. Brian and Ross appeared behind me, and they held their Colts. Brian covered Brock, who was still standing beside the gaming tables.
    A heavy silence held the room while the smoky haze lifted. All eyes were on me as I took the spent shells from my Colt and put new ones in.
    I walked over to Brock with my Colt in hand, and Brian and Ross were behind me.
    Brock had uncrossed his arms, and his hand hovered over his gun handle. I could tell by the expression on his face that he was tempted to go for it.
    “Wave at the angels before you do something stupid,” I said sternly.
    A confused look crossed his face.
    “What?” He asked roughly.
    I sighed and explained, “Hold your hands up.”
    “Oh,” Brock said, and he slowly raised his hands to shoulder height. “That was nice shooting, Lee,” he drawled.
    “You’re leaving,” I said as I ignored his comment. “Now.”
    “Why me? I ain’t causing any trouble.”
    “My hotel. My rules.”
    Brock made an odd snorting sound. I wasn’t sure, but I think it was an attempt at a laugh.
    “All right. I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”
    “That’s what I want.”
    “But I ain’t leaving because I’m scared.”
    “Long as you leave, I don’t care what mood you’re in.”
    Brock smiled at that.
    “We’ll see each other again,” he said.
    “And I hope you try something too,” I replied sarcastically. “I’d enjoy the practice.”
    Brock grunted in response as he walked towards the door.
    Soon as he was gone, Brian glanced at me.
    “‘Wave at the angels’?” He asked softly.
    “I just thought it up on the spot, real quick like,” I explained.
    “I could tell.”
     

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