Chapter 87
Abandoning his effort to keep his pistol lined up on target, Miles dropped the fist holding the weapon to the ground and watched as the other man tore at his shirt, ripping the buttons off to find out how badly he was hurt. His chin tucked hard against his chest so he could see, Kehoe stared at the two small holes in the center of his chest. Bright crimson began to flow from both but the welling of blood was brief. The last two rounds had smashed into the center of his chest and it took only a few beats for his heart to destroy itself. Kehoe looked up to stare at Miles as the fugitive struggled to get to his feet. "No," Kehoe protested, his voice husky and strained. "This isn't...." His strength left him and he fell forward. He looked wonderingly at a stray pinecone a few inches in fron
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