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the first thing he did was to pour a cup of weak coffee. Ignoring Pete Schilling, he went over to his desk, opened the
Denver Daily News
that he’d just purchased, and immersed himself in the latest happenings.
    â€œLong night?” Billy asked a short time later. “You look like you’ve been dragged through a knothole.
    â€œYou don’t look so great yourself. You got something on your mind or did you just come over here to give me grief?”
    â€œI have a job in Nevada that I want to send you on . . . that is, if you still want to work for me and not for Miss Delia Wilson providing her fodder for her sensationalist dime novels.”
    Longarm took a sip of the coffee. “Billy, you are a cheapskate. This coffee is so weak I can see the bottom of my cup.”
    â€œI need an answer about Nevada,” Billy said. “Or should I send someone else?”
    â€œYou don’t have anybody else worth a damn.”
    â€œDeputy Schilling has already offered to go and he looks up to it physically . . . which you don’t.”
    â€œPete isn’t capable of wiping his own ass, much less doing any kind of job that would be a credit to this department.”
    â€œOh, he’s a little better than that,” Billy argued. “And he knows that these long distance assignments are what brings a lawman a reputation. I think he is a little jealous that Miss Wilson isn’t asking him to tell her some stories.”
    â€œWhat stories could Pete tell? How he shot himself in the toe when trying to learn how to do a fast draw? Or about the time he arrested a city councilman for a murder, then learning that the councilman had been in Pueblo on business at the time of the murder?”
    â€œWell, everyone makes mistakes,” Billy said, “and Pete really wants me to send him to Nevada.”
    â€œPete would do anything to get out of Denver and away from that loudmouthed pig of a wife.”
    â€œAre we going to waste anymore time discussing Deputy Schilling or are you going to come to my office and find out what is going on in Nevada that needs immediate attention?”
    â€œI’m coming,” Longarm said, folding his newspaper and swilling down the remainder of his coffee. “Just don’t rush me.”
    When they were inside of Billy’s office, the man shut his door and motioned Longarm to take a chair. “Before we talk about Nevada, I want to know what is going on with Delia Wilson, the dime novelist.”
    â€œShe’s insistent that I give her some stories and promises to change the names and facts enough so that there won’t be any fallout on you, me, or this agency.”
    â€œI don’t trust her.”
    â€œMe, neither.”
    â€œThen I take it you declined her offer?”
    â€œI tried, Billy. Honest, I really tried. But . . .”
    â€œBut she screwed you half to death, which is why you look so awful and came in so late this morning. Right?”
    â€œYeah, but . . .”
    â€œListen, maybe the best thing for you and me right now is to send you out of town.”
    â€œSounds good to me.”
    â€œGlad to hear that. Get some travel money from Lola and we’ll arrange for you to leave first thing in the morning. Tickets will be at the train station, same as usual.”
    â€œThanks. But this time, give me enough travel money so that I don’t have to hold a tin cup out in the aisle begging for pocket change. I need at least two hundred dollars if it looks like I’ll be out of town for a few weeks.”
    â€œOne hundred tops. You can wire me for more if you have good reason.”
    â€œBilly . . .”
    â€œIt’s not my money . . . it belongs to our taxpayers and I’m not seeing it wasted on your insistence to debauch yourself.”
    â€œTell me about Nevada.”
    â€œOur federal marshal in Reno was gunned down yesterday and his wife