Leaving Epitaph (21 page)

Once they had their horses placed in a stable and had registered at a hotel near the church, Thomas and Matthew set off on foot. When they came within sight of the church, they stopped and discussed the best way to proceed.

“We can wait out here and see if we spot him going in or coming out,” Thomas said, “but I’m sure there are other ways in and out.”

“And we still don’t know for sure that it’s him,” Matthew pointed out. “If we followed the wrong man, he has no reason to come here.”

“That’s right,” Thomas said. “Matthew, we’ve got to find out if Ethan is in there, or we’re wasting our time. If we both go in there, Father Vincent might warn Ethan—if Ethan’s inside.”

“Then how do we find out?”

“We’ll ask around. Maybe somebody saw something.”

“That could take forever.”

“Then we better get started.”

They started to walk away, but Thomas abruptly put his hand on his brother’s chest to stop him.

“What’s wrong?”

“If we both leave and he’s in there, we might miss him,” Thomas said. “One of us has to stay here.”

“Which one?” Matthew asked.

“You,” Thomas said. “I’ll go and check the area.”

“Okay,” Matthew said.

“Pick a doorway and stay hidden,” Thomas said. “You’re so big, you’ll be noticed, but you’d be noticed going from stable to stable too.”

“Okay, I’ll stay,” Matthew said, “but tell me one thing.”

“What?”

“How do I recognize him? None of us has ever seen him, except for Pa.”

That stopped Thomas cold. He’d forgotten that he and Matthew had never even seen Ethan Langer.

“Okay,” he said, “we have his description from Pa, and we’ve seen the priest, his brother. He must look somethin’ like him.”

“Have you taken a good look at you, me, and James lately? Do we look like brothers?”

“Well, James and I do bear a certain resemblance—but that’s not important. Just keep an eye on the church. It’s pretty big, but so far we haven’t seen a lot of people around it. Maybe
they only come on Sunday. Just keep an eye for anybody goin’ in and out and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” Matthew said, “but hurry.”

Thomas started away, then stopped.

“Matthew, if you think you see him, don’t approach him. Understand? Wait for me.”

“I understand.”

Thomas put his hand on his brother’s arm. “Don’t go near him without me.”

“I understand, Thomas.”

“All right.” Thomas took his hand back. “I’ll be right back.”

“Just find that horse so we know we’re in the right place.”

“If it’s here,” Thomas said, “I’ll find it.”

Inside the church, Ethan had left the back room and walked into the church with his brother.

“Nobody’s ever here,” Ethan said, looking around the cavernous interior of the church.

“This is a very large church,” Father Vincent said, “and a very poor parish.”

“Must not pay you very much.”

“I am not paid anything at all.”

Ethan turned and looked at his brother. “Did you see my saddlebags?”

“I told you they were in the bottom drawer.”

“I know that,” Ethan said. “Did you see what’s inside?”

“No.”

“You didn’t even take a peek?”

“Not even a peek.”

“There’s cash in there, Vincent,” Ethan said, “a lot of cash.”

“Stolen money.”

“Of course, but at least I have money. What do you have?”

“I have my faith,” Vincent said, “and I live in the service of God.”

“And you don’t need money?”

“I do not need money,” Vincent said, “but the church does.”

“Well, don’t expect to get any from me.”

“I don’t.”

“That’s good, because I don’t believe in charity.”

“Charity begins at home.”

“Well, you finally said something I agree with.”

Vincent fell silent for a moment, then said, “I have some things to do, Ethan.”

“Like what?”

“I have some visits to make with the sick,” the priest said. “I will be back later today.”

“What about me?” Ethan asked. “What about my—my problem?”

“We will take care of it when I return,” Vincent said.

Ethan grabbed Vincent’s arm and held it tightly. He was surprised at how hard it was.

“Promise?”

“I promise, Ethan.”

Vincent stared at his brother until Ethan removed his hand, and then the priest left the church.

Ethan sat down in the front pew and bowed his head. He wasn’t praying, he was just tired.

Thomas decided to start asking questions at the stable where he and Matthew had left their own horses. First, he checked the hooves of the other horses in the building and found nothing. He was about to leave when the liveryman came walking in on him.

“Hey,” he asked, “you want your horse?”

“No, thanks,” Thomas said. “I’ve got a question for you, though.”

“What?”

“Does the priest have any horses?”

“What?”

“The church,” Thomas said, “does the church have any horses?”

“They have a buckboard and a horse, I think.”

“Do you know where they leave the horse?”

“They got a small stable out back.”

“They have their own stable?”

“Yeah,” the man said.

“So if somebody was visiting the priest, they’d put his horse back there?”

The man shrugged beefy shoulders and said, “I guess so.” He scratched at the sweat in his salt and pepper beard. “You visiting somebody at the church? Want to move your horse? I’ll give you a discount to leave it here. Business ain’t been so good.”

“What can you tell me about the church?”

“Not much,” he said. “It’s poor, not too many people go there.”

“But the place is huge.”

“Yeah,” the man said, “it’s a big empty building.”

“Except for the priest.”

“Right, they got one priest.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Hey, you leavin’ your horse here?” the guy shouted after him.

“Yeah,” Thomas said, and ran out the door.

Matthew saw the priest leave, and backed into a doorway so the man wouldn’t see him. They’d only seen each other once, but Matthew knew that a man his size was hard to forget.

Once the priest was gone, Matthew thought about going inside. The church was obviously empty now, except maybe for Ethan Langer. He knew his brother Thomas was planning to do the same thing their father was planning to do—kill Ethan. But that was murder, and Matthew was
still unable to accept that. If he went inside and caught Ethan Langer, maybe he could keep Thomas from becoming a murderer.

Thomas worked his way around behind the church and found the small shack they used as a stable. The buckboard was outside, and the horse was inside. In fact, two horses were inside, and when he saw that his heart began to race.

When he entered the small shack, he saw the saddle off to the side, but there were no saddlebags. He knew his father would know exactly which hoof to check, but he had to lift all four before he found the one he wanted. There was the distinct marking something had created on the horse’s hoof. The odds were now distinctly in favor of Ethan Langer being inside the church.

Father Vincent didn’t get very far from the church when he realized he’d forgotten his Bible, which he was going to need to offer comfort to Mrs. Anderson. He would never have forgotten it if he hadn’t been so distracted by the presence of his brother. He knew the best thing he could do for Ethan would be to turn him in to the law, but he just couldn’t. Somehow, he had to convince Ethan to do that himself.

He turned around and headed back. In order to get to the church, he had to pass by the small stable behind it. He thought he saw some movement inside, and went to take a look.

Matthew finally made his decision. He left the cover of the doorway and walked across the square to the church. Just outside the door, he slid his gun in and out of his holster, the way he had seen his father do a number times to be sure it wouldn’t stick. Then he opened the door and stepped inside.

Thomas stood in the small stable, wondering what his next move should be. He could return to Matthew, or he could approach the church from the back and take a look inside. While he was trying to decide, Father Vincent appeared.

“What are you doing here?”

Thomas turned, and Father Vincent saw his badge and remembered who he was. The priest’s heart began to beat faster.

“Hello, Father,” Thomas said.

“Deputy. What can I do for you? I thought you were long gone from here.”

“We were,” Thomas said, “but we tracked your brother right back to here.”

“My brother?”

“Ethan.”

The man shrugged. “Ethan is not here.”

“That’s a lie, Padre,” Thomas said. “I thought priests weren’t supposed to lie?”

Father Vincent bit his lip.

“But brothers, they lie for each other,” Thomas said. “I know, because I always used to
lie for my brothers when we were kids. But we’re not kids anymore, and neither are you and Ethan.” He pointed. “That’s his saddle and that’s his horse. The horse leaves a very distinct hoofprint. See it? Almost like a star?”

Vincent did see it, and knew he couldn’t lie again.

“Where is he, Father?”

Matthew saw the man in the first pew sitting with his head bowed. His footsteps echoed as he approached the receptacle with the holy water. Out of reflex, he was going to dip his fingers and make the sign of the cross.

At the sound of the footsteps, Ethan Langer’s head jerked up. He stood and turned quickly. He saw a large man standing just inside the front doors. The sunlight coming through the stained-glass windows high above them reflected off the badge on the big man’s chest.

Ethan did not hesitate. He drew and fired.

Matthew had his fingertips in the holy water when the bullet hit him in the chest, just next to the badge he wore. He grunted and took a step back. He wasn’t sure what had happened. Confused, he looked down and saw the blood on his
shirt. Still, it never occurred to him to reach for his gun.

He looked up and saw a man—Ethan Langer—walking up the center aisle toward him, gun in hand.

“Wait—” he said, but the man fired again. The bullet struck him in the shoulder and knocked him off balance. He staggered back, lost his footing and fell.

The man who shot him loomed over him with his gun pointed down at him.

“E-Ethan Langer?” Matthew asked, his vision dimming.

“That’s right, Deputy. Why are you trailing me to hell and back over a goddamned bank in South Texas?”

“Y-You killed my mother.”

“Your mother?” Ethan asked. “That stupid bitch was your mother?”

“Y-You can’t call her—”

“Do me a favor, will ya?” Ethan asked. “When you see her, tell her to leave me the hell alone.”

He fired one last time….

At the sound of the first shot, Thomas and Father Vincent started running toward the church, each concerned for their own brother. Damn Matthew if he went inside, Thomas swore.

While they were running they heard the second shot.

“This way!” Father Vincent said to Thomas,
grabbing him from behind and directing him toward a back door of the church.

As they reached that door they heard the third and final shot.

Ethan stepped over the dead lawman’s body and headed for the front door. He wanted to see if there were any more outside. He opened the door and stuck his head out, but the square was empty, except for a woman and her small daughter, who were walking toward the church.

He closed the door and looked at the lawman again. At that point he heard someone rushing in from behind the altar. Quickly, he opened the door again and stepped out.

Thomas and Father Vincent ran up the center aisle toward the fallen man, each with their heart in their throat. It was Thomas, however, whose heart sank when he saw Matthew lying in a pool of blood.

“Oh, Matthew,” he said, “no!”

“Oh, my God,” Father Vincent said, feeling pain and relief at the same time.

Matthew had been shot twice in the chest and once in the head. Thomas knelt next to his brother, cradled his head in his lap and began to cry.

Father Vincent knelt next to the dead man and began to administer Last Rites.

Father Vincent didn’t get very far with the Last Rites because they heard a woman screaming and shouting from outside. Thomas didn’t want to leave Matthew, but he gently laid his brother’s head back down on the floor and ran to the door, followed by the priest. Outside, a woman was screaming and wringing her hands.

“Mrs. Paul,” Father Vincent said, “what is it?”

“A man,” she said, “a man came out of the church with a gun and took my daughter.”

“Jenny? He took Jenny?”

“Yes, yes,” she said, still wringing her hands, “he took her. Why did he take her?”

Vincent looked at Thomas. “She’s six,” he said, “six years old.”

Thomas looked at the woman. She was faded, looked too old and worn-out to have a daughter that young.

“Which way did he go?” Thomas asked.

“Across the square,” she said, pointing. “He ran across the square, draggin’ my baby—”

“Stay with her,” Thomas said to the priest, “and with my brother.”

“But—”

Thomas didn’t wait any longer. He drew his gun and started running. Father Vincent was caught in a quandary. There was a dead man on the floor of his church, Mrs. Paul needed comforting, and a man was chasing his brother with the goal of killing him.

Like any man with too many options, he just froze.

Ethan had his gun in his right hand and the little girl on his left. He alternately dragged her and lifted her off the ground. Either way, she kicked and screamed for help. People were getting out of his way, pointing and shouting, and he knew he was leaving an easy trail to follow. No one made a move to try and stop him, though. The people in this city were the same as the people in Epitaph had been. No one would step up and lend a hand, try to help.

He’d had no time to think about killing the lawman. Would killing the son get rid of the mother who was haunting him? He didn’t know. Had Vincent, his own brother, sent the law after him, after making an excuse to leave the church? He didn’t know that either. He didn’t know
much, and he especially didn’t know where he was running to.

He wished the girl he was carrying would stop screaming.

Ethan was leaving an easy trail for Thomas to follow. In fact, people pointed the way, helping him follow in Ethan’s wake. Also, as he got closer, Thomas could hear the girl screaming. He tried to put the sight of Matthew lying dead on the floor of the church out of his mind and just concentrate on catching Ethan—the man who had killed both his mother and his brother.

Ethan staggered in the middle of the street now, unsure of which way to go. He held the girl tightly, trying not to pay attention to her screaming, but it was echoing in his ears, and it seemed to be in unison with the screams that were already there.

“Stop screaming!” he shouted, turning in circles. “Stop screaming, damn it!”

He wasn’t only shouting at the little girl.

Thomas turned a corner and came to an abrupt stop. Ethan was standing in the middle of the street, waving his gun, holding the squirming little girl in his hand like a rag doll, shouting, “Stop screaming! Stop screaming!”

The poor girl’s head bounced around as he
shook her. Her arms and legs were flapping about.

Thomas stopped, also in the middle of the street, and pointed his gun. All the riding, all the searching, all the death had led up to this moment.

“Ethan Langer!”

Ethan didn’t hear Thomas shout at first, because the girl was still screaming, and there was screaming going on in his head. It was as if the dead woman was right in his ear, screaming along with the little girl. The two of them were making his head feel as if it was going to explode.

Then, abruptly, he heard his name, and there was silence.

For some reason, the little girl fell silent, and the entire street was quiet. People had fled to the sidewalks or ducked into buildings to watch from windows. There were only three people on the street now—Ethan Langer, Thomas Shaye, and Jenny, the little girl.

Ethan turned at the sound of his name, holding the girl in front of him, her feet dangling in the air. “Who are you?” he shouted. “Another deputy?”

“That’s right,” Thomas said. “I’m a deputy, and you killed my mother, and my brother.”

“Another brother?” Ethan asked. “Jesus, am I gonna get to kill your whole family?”

“I don’t think so, Ethan,” Thomas said, “because it all ends here. This is the deputy who gets to kill you. Let the girl go.”

“Wait,” Ethan said, cocking his head. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Thomas asked.

“That…that laughter,” Ethan said, looking around. “First she screams, and then she laughs. Your goddamn mother was haunting my dreams, but now I hear her when I’m awake.”

“That’s because that’s what you deserve,” Thomas said. The man must have been going mad, but that was no excuse for the things he’d done or for what he was doing now. “To be haunted the rest of your life—which isn’t going to go on much longer.”

Ethan brought his gun hand up to the side of his head and pounded on his ear.

“Get out of my head!” he shouted. “Get out, get out, get…out!”

For a moment Thomas thought the man was going to shoot himself in the head, but it didn’t happen.

“Ethan!” Thomas shouted. He wanted to be heard over his mother’s voice, which Ethan was obviously still hearing. “Let the girl go.” Thomas pointed his gun, but Ethan was holding the girl high, and she was blocking his torso. Thomas had two targets—Ethan’s legs. He could
have tried for a head shot, but the girl’s head was partially blocking that as well. If he tried, he might end up killing the little girl.

“Ethan! Put her down!”

There was no doubt in Thomas’s mind that he was going to take a shot. He kept trying to get Ethan to let the girl go, but either way it was going to end here. Ethan Langer was not going to get off this street alive. If he didn’t kill him, how would he ever explain that to his pa?

“Goddamn it!” Ethan shouted. He pointed his gun at Thomas. “You wanna kill this little girl? You go ahead and take the shot. What’re ya, afraid?”

In the end, Thomas took the shot not to save the little girl’s life, but to save his own. Ethan had his gun pointed at Thomas and was obviously ready to pull the trigger. Thomas had no intention of just standing there and letting the man kill him. He’d already killed too many members of the Shaye family.

Thomas lowered the barrel of his gun and fired. His bullet hit Ethan in the right shin, completely shattering the bone. There was an explosion of blood, soaking the dirt beneath Ethan’s feet. The outlaw howled in pain and released the little girl. He fell to the ground, grabbing for his shin, dropping his gun. The girl ran toward Thomas, her arms outstretched.

Thomas dropped to one knee and caught her in his arms.

“Are you all right, sweetheart?” he asked. He held her at arm’s length and looked her over. She seemed unharmed.

She nodded. He thought she must be a brave little girl, because she wasn’t crying. She grabbed him, though, and hugged him tightly, and he hugged her back for a few moments before holding her at arm’s length once again.

“You go and wait for me over there by that building,” he told her, “and then I’ll take you to your mother. Okay? I promise. Just stay there and wait.”

Reluctantly, the girl left the safe haven of Thomas’s arms and went to wait for him.

Thomas got to his feet and walked to where Ethan was rolling around on the ground, both hands bloody from his leg.

“You crippled me, damn it!” the outlaw shouted. “You sonofabitch, you crippled me.”

His gun was lying in the street, so Thomas gave it a good kick and sent it skittering away. Then he pointed his gun at Ethan’s head.

Ethan glared up at him, both hands wrapped around his shattered leg, and said, “Do it! Do it, goddamn it!”

Thomas’s finger tightened on the trigger. This was what it all came down to.

“Go head, put me out of my misery,” Ethan said. “She’s never gonna stop, she’ll never leave me alone, will she?”

“No,” Thomas said, “she won’t.”

“Then kill me, damn it.”

Thomas was a hair from pulling the trigger when he suddenly lowered the gun. He fired once more, shattering the other leg. Ethan screamed.

“What are you doin’?” Ethan cried out.

“You’re goin’ to jail, Ethan,” Thomas said. “You’re goin’ to Huntsville. There, as a cripple, you’ll be fair game for anyone who wants to have at you, and my mother will be in your head all your waking and sleeping hours.” Thomas holstered his weapon. “Why would I want to save you from that?”

Beyond Ethan, Thomas could see policemen rushing toward them. He turned and walked back to the little girl, leaving Ethan for them to handle. He was going to take the little girl back to her mother, and care for his brother.

“Ya can’t kill me because you’re yella!” Ethan was shouting at Thomas. “Yer yella, like your brother! Come back here and kill me! Come back here….”