The sheriff’s good wishes were heartfelt, but it wasn’t that which led the bounty hunters straight to their prey, only two days later. It was planning and experience. Red and Justice knew he’d have made his way to Santa Fe. They used the trail of drunks at the city’s edge to find their way to the broken-down hideout where they discovered the wretch, snoring in the darkness after having shared his bottles of expensive whiskey with all and sundry and squandered every bit of the pittance he’d stolen from the Española poker table.
Kicking in the door of the creaking, windowless shack, bucket of water in hand, Red barked a welcome. “Wake up, you filthy mongrel!”
Justice strode in behind him, lighting a slender cigar. He used its glow to find a candle.
In the flickering light, a naked outlaw
