Death in the Desert by J. R. Roberts Page B

Kathy will get shot. Is that all right?”
    â€œThat’s fine, honey,” he said. “That’s just fine.”
    She nodded and got under the steps.
•   •   •
    â€œWhat do we do now?” Ned asked.
    â€œTake Chris and go around back,” Steve said. “Find the back door, see if you can get in.”
    â€œAnd if we can?”
    â€œFire two shots and go in. If you do that, we’ll hit the front door.”
    â€œAnd if the back door is locked?”
    â€œCheck the back thoroughly,” Steve said. “See if there’s a window we can use to get in.”
    â€œAnd if there is?”
    â€œCome back here and tell me,” Steve said, “and then we’ll make plans.”
    â€œOkay,” Ned said. “Let’s go, kid.”
    As they crossed the street and moved up the alley next to city hall, Billy said, “What do we do?”
    â€œI’m gonna wait here,” Steve said. “You go and get all of our rifles.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œThen we’ll trying ventilatin’ city hall a bit and see how the Gunsmith reacts to that.”
    Billy turned and ran. Steve Harwick rubbed his jaw and studied the front of city hall.
•   •   •
    â€œWhat do you see?” Clint asked Kathy.
    â€œThere’s only one man out there,” she said. “The other three left.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œHow did they leave? Separately? Together?”
    â€œTwo of them left together, and the third one went off on his own.”
    â€œHe sent them off to do jobs,” Clint said.
    â€œWhat jobs?”
    â€œThey’re probably going to try the back door,” Clint said. “I’ll go back there and check, make sure they don’t come in a window. In fact, maybe I’ll barricade the windows.”
    â€œWith what?”
    â€œThis building’s got to be filled with furniture.”
    â€œAnd what do I do?”
    â€œSame as before,” Clint said. “Watch the street. If you see anything that makes you nervous, start shooting.”
    â€œDo I shoot to . . . um . . .”
    â€œYou shoot to kill, Kathy,” Clint said. “If you give them the chance, they’ll kill you.”
    â€œA-All right.”
    â€œCan you do that?”
    â€œI’ll do it,” she promised.
    â€œI’ll be as quick as I can,” he promised, and hoped that he would be quick enough.

THIRTY-TWO
    Whoever had designed the city hall building had done so with a minimum of windows. The main floor courtroom had none, and most of the windows that were in the buildings were on the upper floors.
    Clint went to the back door to watch and make sure it would hold. Somebody jiggled the doorknob, found it locked, but did not try to force the door. He peered in a back window, but Clint cut down his view by shoving a large hutch into the way.
    He went around the main floor and moved furniture, covering the windows as best he could with sofas, desks, bookshelves, anything he could lean against them. Some of the items would not keep out anyone who was bound and determined to enter, but they’d make a hell of a lot of noise doing it.
    He hurried back to the front hall.
    â€œAnything?”
    â€œOne of the men came back, carrying four rifles. Then the other two came back, so now they all have rifles.”
    â€œThey might start pumping lead into here at any moment,” Clint said. “When they do, don’t try to return fire, just duck. Understand?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œIn fact, here’s what I want you to do,” he said, changing his mind. “Go upstairs and pick out a window, and watch from there. If you have to fire, you’ll have a better view from there. But don’t fire unless I do.”
    â€œWouldn’t we be better off with you up there?” she asked.
    Actually, they would. He could probably