“Well, take a good look next time, ’cause when you see Lloyd Harkner again, it will be for the last time. How often do they come to Denver?”
Gretta still held the gun on him, not trusting him for one second. “I really don’t know. Not often. Most ranchers tend to stay right on the ranch most of the time, except to come into the city for supplies once in a while, or to bring in cattle. This is the time of year for that, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they showed up in Denver in the next week or two.”
Mike pulled on his pants. “Good. I’ll be ready for ’em.”
Gretta smiled. “Mister, the only reason I told you they might come around is because from all I’ve read about Harkner and his son, you’ll be the one who’s dead if you try going after them, and I will truly enjoy seeing you sprawled in the street, your body riddled with bullets.”
Mike reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a plug of tobacco, biting some off and pushing it down between his cheek and his gum. “Depends who sees who first. Onliest thing I know is I ain’t gonna try goin’ after him at his ranch. Most men I’ve talked to say nobody gets on Harkner land without bein’ noticed, and after hearin’ about them rustlers, I figured I’d wait right here. Here, he’ll be out of familiar territory, and there are plenty of places to hide instead of goin’ after a man in the wide open spaces.”
“You’ll go back to prison, you fool!”
“Not if I do it without gettin’ caught.”
“You’re the first one they will suspect, and now I know your plans.”
He looked her over. “Don’t matter. Like you said, I’m the first one they’ll suspect, but I don’t intend to be found. I’ve staked this city out pretty good, and there are plenty of places to hide till shit blows over.”
He smoothed back his hair. “The only way for men like Harkner to die is lyin’ in mud and horse dung in the street, all shot to hell, their women cryin’ over their bodies.” He rose. “The man’s daughter is as much of a looker as his son is, and she was sweet between the legs, let me tell you.” He walked a little closer. “Want to know what she did after Harkner found her and shot up most of the men at Dune Hollow?”
Gretta just glared at him. “You’re scum, Mike Holt.”
He grinned. “Maybe so, but scum or not, she forgave us. Can you believe that one?”
“Forgave you?”
“Yup. She’s the reason I’m alive. After all the shootin’ and things was said and done, she told her pa not to kill those of us still alive. Ole Harkner, you could tell he wanted to blow our heads off, and he would have if there weren’t men from town with him to see him do it. Even at that, I think he would have done it anyway out of pure meanness. But that daughter of his said she forgave us, and she’d be real upset if he killed us outright, so he had to bring us in for trial. The bastard wouldn’t let his daughter testify, so we all got nailed for rapin’ her, even though some of them didn’t.”
“But you did.”
Mike rubbed at his privates. “Sure I did. But I got out of prison on account of they couldn’t really prove it, and she wouldn’t testify, so the judge let me go.”
“You should have left well enough alone and gone someplace else to start life over.”
He shrugged. “What fun would that be?” He began pulling a belt through the loops on his pants. He stepped a little closer. “You want to know the best part?”
“I don’t think I do.” Gretta raised the pistol again.
“The best part is, Harkner’s daughter was blindfolded when I went at her. I could walk right up to her, and she wouldn’t know I was one of ’em.”
Gretta shook her head. “You’re crazy. Jake and his son know your face. You’ll never get close to that young woman.”
“Oh, I’ll wait till they ain’t around.”
“I hope they kill you. I’ve just met you, and I want to kill you! When I’m through, there won’t be one prostitute in Denver who will let you touch her.”
He shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll have to find a woman who ain’t willin’, won’t I?”
Gretta raised her chin. “If I hear of anything like that happening here, I’ll report your name to the prosecutor.” She stepped a little closer, holding the gun out again. “I happen to know him well.”
Mike’s smile faded. “So that’s how it is, is it? Well, I heard the prosecutor ain’t real happy with Jake on account of one of them rustlers Jake killed was his nephew. So I expect the man will be glad to find a reason to throw ole Harkner in jail—his son, too—if they survive what I have planned for them.”