Free Deadly Election (9781101619223) by J. R. Roberts Page A

sitting among a bunch of women, having chicken for lunch. Gryder was seated at a different table, and Heck and Carla were at a table by themselves—from where Heck had a good view of the room, and Clint.
    When the afternoon was over, they all returned to the house, where Gryder was able to see the bullets in the front door.
    “Was it close?” he asked.
    “The bullets went right over our heads,” Carla said.
    They went inside.
    “Did you see who fired them?”
    “No,” Heck said. “I ran across the way, but they were gone already.”
    Gryder looked at Clint.
    “This doesn’t come as a surprise to you, does it, Clint?”
    “Not really,” Clint said. “Somebody’s always taking a shot at me sooner or later.”
    “Okay then,” Gryder said, “maybe it’s a good thing we got this over with now.”
    “You think it’s finished?” Carla asked. “If they shot at him once, they might try again.”
    “And they probably will,” Heck said.
    “And we have the marshal here to see that they miss again.”
    “Deputy,” Heck said.
    Julius came into the living room at that point and asked, “Is there anything I can do, sir?”
    “No, Julius,” Clint said. “We just came back to change clothes.”
    “Yes, sir. Shall I draw baths?”
    “Baths?” Heck asked, looking at Clint.
    “That’s okay,” Clint said. “We’ll just go upstairs and change.”
    “Good,” Gryder said. “The next meeting is at three, and then after that we have supper.”
    Clint and Heck went upstairs to don some of their new clothes.
    They came out of their rooms at the same time, in their new suits.
    “How’s it fit?” Clint asked.
    “Just fine.” Heck shrugged his shoulders. “A littletight in the shoulders, because of the shoulder rig. Mine’s not tailored, like yours.”
    “Still feels like it’s choking me.”
    “Hey, let’s take a look out the windows first from up here.”
    “Good idea,” Clint said. “We can use any of the front bedrooms. Come on.”
    They went into an empty room, up to the windows, and looked out.
    “See that doorway?” Heck asked, pointing. “I think they fired from there.”
    “They would have had more luck from the roof,” Clint said.
    “Maybe,” Heck said, “they weren’t tryin’ to hit you.”
    “You mean you? Or Carla?”
    “I mean nobody,” Heck said. “I was lookin’ at those bullets in the door. They were a little high.”
    “So you think they missed us on purpose?” Clint asked. “Why would they do that?”
    “I don’t know,” Heck said. “I guess we’ll have to ask them when we find them.”
    “We better go down,” Clint said. “Gryder will be getting nervous.”
    “He does seem to be a nervous kind of fella,” Heck said. “I don’t like him very much.”
    “I’m sure that fact won’t bother him much,” Clint said.
    “And what about the girl?”
    “Carla? What about her?”
    They started down the hall.
    “I think she likes you a little more than the job calls for.”
    “No,” Clint said, “I think she’s just doing her job.”
    They went downstairs, where Gryder was waiting impatiently.
    “Oh, good. You’re here. Carla, go out and tell the driver we’re ready—”
    “No!” Clint said. “She’s not goin’ out there alone. Not after what happened this morning.”
    “All right, then,” Gryder said, “we’ll all go, but let’s move or we’ll be late.”
    “Do I have to make a speech this time?”
    “No,” Gryder said, “this time you’ll just have to answer some questions.”
    “From women?”
    “No,” Gryder said. “This time it will be all men.”

TWENTY-EIGHT
    This time Clint was asked questions by the Merchant’s Association of Austin—and the questions were harder, more political.
    Heck stood in the back of the room, keeping a wary eye out for anything suspicious. Carla stood next to him. Gryder was up front somewhere, among the crush of men.
    “How’s he doin’ with this political stuff?” Heck asked.
    “Don’t