Free California Killing by George G. Gilman

from its holster. Edge's right hand moved like a piston, the fingers uncurling from the butt of the gun then stretching to the limit to gather together the laces that hung down at each side of Wayne's neck. Even before the man could open his mouth to utter a cry of alarm, he had been jerked off his feet and was sprawled crosswise on the bed over Edge's outstretched legs. Working in unison with the right, Edge's left hand had drawn the razor and it streaked downwards as he jerked his head clear of the pointing gun.
    Wayne continued to hold the gun, but now it was aimed uselessly at the floor and he felt the needle sharpness of the razor's tip resting on the fleshy part of his nape. He allowed the gun to slip from his fingers and then did not move to the extent of holding his breath. His boots swung lazily at each side of his terrified face.
    The killer glint showed in Edge's hooded eyes as he looked along the bed at Scott. "You gonna be his friend in need?" he asked softly.
    In the lightning instants during which Wayne was turned from captor into captive, Scott had snapped up the Colt, seeking a clear shot at Edge. Now his knuckle whitened around the trigger as his target was exposed. But the sight of the blade, its sheen dull in the lamp's glow, acted as a brake to the impulse.
    "Duke!" Wayne pleaded, the word little more than a rush of escaping breath.
    "Your move," Edge encouraged the shocked and angry Scott. "I know this guy ain't the king. And, he don't act like no queen. Maybe you'll only be losing a pawn."
    Scott thrust his gun forward. "Let him up, Edge."
    Edge curled back his lips in a grin that contained a grain of humor. "What are you, a comedian out of the Holly Playhouse?"
    "Duke," Wayne implored, his voice reaching a higher pitch. "He's got me cold."
    "Same way I got him," Scott replied thickly, his hand rock steady as he aimed the Colt at Edge's chest.
    "You ain't fast enough, Duke. I'll get stuck. What about Belle?"
    The name injected afresh emotion into Scott's unblinking eyes. He flicked out his tongue to moisten dry lips, emphasizing his fear and confusion. The aim of the gun wavered.
    "Who's Belle?" Edge asked easily.
    "Mr. Mayer's' sister," Scott answered in disgust. "Randy and her fixing to get hitched."
    "Mayer approves the match?"
    Scott opened his hand and allowed the Colt to fall to the bed between Edge's feet. "She's fat and forty and gives him hell. He approves."
    Edge had been resting his free hand on Wayne's back. Now he moved it to his hip and drew the Walker-Colt. "Women," he said reflectively, "Even when they ain't around they somehow get messed in man's business. On your feet, Romeo. Back off, Scott."
    As Scott stepped up against the wall, Edge removed the razor from Wayne's neck and the man scrambled to his feet, his complexion scarlet from the blood rush when his head had been forced down. A motion of Edge's gun sent him stumbling across the room to stand beside his partner.
    "Face the wall," Edge ordered as he swung his legs off the bed and stood up.
    The two men did as he said. He moved up behind them, gun in one hand, razor in the other. "Message for Mayer," he said softly. "The picture ain't in Justin's bag, I've got it. And I intend to hold on to it - until Hood gives me back my two-and-a-half grand for it."
    Scott stared tacitly at the wall. "You just gonna let us walk out of here?" Wayne asked with a hint of hope in his voice.
    Edge grinned at the backs of their heads. "Hell, no. I reckon you guys deserve something for your trouble. I always repay trouble."
    The wet sound of Wayne swallowing hard was very loud in the silence of the room. But as Edge went down into a crouch, the crack of the gunshot was much louder, masking the swish of the razor. Wayne screamed and buckled at the knees, dropping heavily to the floor and toppling forward to crack his forehead against the wall. Scott sucked in his breath and swayed forward. But he stayed upright by flattening his palms against the wall.