He replied unenthusiastically to the salesman’s greeting and was tempted to continue on to his room, but, in spite of himself, he was curious to see if Landry would refer to the roadhouse raid.
Landry reached him and took a moment to catch his breath. “You’d think I would be conditioned to climbing these infernal stairs by now.” He inhaled deeply, then asked, “Am I keeping you from anything?”
“Bed.”
“That kind of day?”
“And then some.”
“Would you consider going out for a little refreshment? Grab a Coca-Cola at the filling station?”
“No, thanks. I’m ready to hit the hay.”
“Well then, another time.” He slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I feel at loose ends tonight.”
“Ask your buddy to go with you.”
“Buddy?” He tipped his head and looked at Thatcher with puzzlement, which Thatcher thought was faked. “Oh, you mean Randy? He’s moved on.”
It occurred to Thatcher only now that he hadn’t seen the young man around lately. “Where’d he go?”
“God knows. Greener pastures, I guess.” He shrugged. “I missed seeing him around and inquired about him. Mrs. May said he left without notice. She went up to collect his rent, which was a day late. He’d cleared out in the dead of night.” He chuckled. “Sounds like something impulsive and irresponsible he would do.”
Thatcher thought Landry’s dry laugh also seemed faked. When Thatcher didn’t join in, Landry must have sensed his reserve. He glanced down the staircase to make certain no one else was around. No one was. Nevertheless, he lowered his voice to a confidential level.
“We’re avoiding the subject we’re both dying to talk about.”
Thatcher just looked at him.
“Come on, Hutton.” For the first time ever, some of Landry’s polish dimmed and he showed annoyance. “I didn’t see you, but I heard you were there last night.”
“I saw you, running away.”
“Yes, our perspectives were entirely different. We were on opposite sides of the bedlam.” When Thatcher didn’t respond, Landry said, “No comment on that?”
“What do you want to know?”
“From kidnap suspect to deputy sheriff is a very broad leap. You covered it in a matter of weeks. How did you manage to curry the sheriff’s favor and become a deputy?”
“I didn’t.”
He declared it as a fact, but that damn badge was still in his breast pocket. After listening to Bill’s tragic tale, witnessing the heartache, sorrow, and despair that he lived with daily, Thatcher hadn’t had the heart to return the badge with the stern put-down he’d rehearsed.
“What I heard was that you were in the thick of it with the sheriff’s men.”
“I went for a hamburger, and got caught up in it.” He stopped there, not feeling a need to explain or justify anything he did to this popinjay. “What were you doing there, Landry? Fitting the soiled doves with new shoes?”
Thatcher got a flash of the gold tooth when Landry threw his head back and laughed. “You have a sense of humor after all. I was beginning to wonder.” Recovering from his laughter, he said, “God help any man who goes near one of those girls. I’m sure they’re petri dishes for VD.
“No, I went only for a hamburger, too, but couldn’t resist the enticement of a drink. You were the one who told me about the place, remember? Did you know about the back room?”
“I’d heard rumors.”
Thatcher paused, then asked, “That was your first time there?”
“Rotten luck to choose last night to try it out, huh?”
“I’d say.”