Free Kill or Die by William W. Johnstone Page A

scatter their brains with a Colt? Could you do that?”
    â€œNo. That’s a horrible question to ask. You’re scaring me.” Dixie sat up and grabbed the laces of her corset. “I think I should go.”
    â€œI couldn’t either. I couldn’t kill a child,” Toohy said.
    â€œThen why do you even mention such a thing?” Dixie said.
    â€œBecause that’s what Ritter wants us to do, kill women and children in the swamp. He says we’ve got to kill all of them.”
    Dixie folded her arms across her naked breasts. “Maybe we should leave, all five of us girls. Get far away from here.”
    â€œYou’ll stay here. This is where the money is.” Toohy’s thin lips twisted into a sneer. “And where would you go? What would you do? Become a two-dollar-a-bang whore at a hog ranch, maybe?”
    â€œAnd what will you do?” Dixie said, some of her courage returning.
    â€œI don’t know,” Toohy said.
    â€œI’ll leave with you, Bonny. We can go anywhere together. Texas is a big place.”
    Toohy poured himself another drink. “There’s ten dollars in my vest pocket, Dixie,” he said. “Take it and then get the hell out of here.”
    The woman laced up and took the money from Toohy’s vest, then said, “Should I ask Travis?”
    â€œAsk him what?”
    â€œIf he can kill women and children.”
    â€œNo need to ask him. Kershaw is a low-down, murdering snake. He’ll cut any man, woman or child in half with a shotgun for fifty dollars.”
    Dixie rolled up her stocking, put her scarlet garters in place and at the tent flap said, “I won’t come back here until you’re in a better mood.”
    â€œAnd when will that be?” Toohy said.
    â€œProbably never,” the woman said.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
    At dawn, a man called Ashe Kent, having no room in his small canoe, towed Zedock Briscoe’s body to Evangeline’s cabin and Sam Flintlock watched him come.
    Flintlock and O’Hara manhandled Zedock onto the deck and Evangeline, wearing only a changing robe, kneeled by the body.
    â€œCan you do anything for him, Miss Evangeline?” Kent said, a tall, lanky man who trapped all over the swamp.
    Tears misting her eyes, Evangeline said, “I can’t raise the dead, Ashe.”
    â€œHe was shot,” Kent said. “He didn’t drown.”
    Evangeline nodded. “Yes. Yes, I can see that.”
    â€œWhere did you find him?” Flintlock said.
    â€œAt the edge of the swamp south a ways. I reckon he was shot by someone on the bank.” Kent reached into his pocket and produced an empty cartridge case. “Found this. It’s a forty-four-forty and still shiny.”
    Flintlock took the case and said, “You see anybody, Ashe?”
    The man shook his head. “Nobody. Saw some horse tracks on the banks headed east. I reckon the killer crossed the Sabine into Louisiana already.”
    â€œOne of Brewster Ritter’s men most likely,” Flintlock said.
    â€œThat would be my thinking,” Kent said. “Zedock now, he didn’t have any enemies and the only things that feared him were the fish.”
    Evangeline was very pale. “Ashe, will you tell Mrs. Briscoe what happened?”
    â€œI sure will, Miss Evangeline, but it’s a hell of a thing to do.”
    â€œI know, Ashe, but it has to be done,” Evangeline said. “I’ll make Zedock’s body decent. Mrs. Briscoe can come here or I’ll bring Zedock to her. Tell her that.”
    Kent nodded, grim-faced as a hanging judge, and left to do what had to be done.
    â€œI’ll wash Zedock’s body right here on the dock and wrap him in a sheet,” Evangeline said. “I can’t let Mrs. Briscoe see him like this.” She wiped a tear from her cheek and said, “You gentlemen may not want to be here for a while.”
    â€œNo, we don’t,”