CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The Camp
Shapiro returns from his prolonged vigil, standing on a high outcrop to observe and signs of his man’s horse. Now he goes to the campfire, fills a tin cup with bitter coffee and drains it, throwing the dregs into the fire. His eyes roam across the assembled men. Some are cleaning their weapons, other checking their saddles. Nolan sits a little apart, whittling away at a thin piece of wood. Shapiro readjusts his g*n belt and moves towards him. “Tell me again how you killed them.”
Nolan stops, the blade halfway across the wood, and he stares into Shapiro’s face. “What did you say?”
“You said you killed them. Cole and his friend. How did you kill them, amigo?”
“I told you. They were drunk. I killed them as they were sleeping.”
“Yes, but I ask you again … Ho
