When he saw Bill, he shot to his feet and aimed an accusing finger at Thatcher. “He roped me like a damn calf. He was gonna hang me!”
Bill looked at Thatcher, who said, “He sneaked into Barker’s stable to steal a horse. He bungled it, and I caught him. But that’s not why I put him in here.”
“Okay,” Bill said, “I’m listening.”
“He said he would rather me hang him than tell me why he needed a horse.”
Bill hadn’t seen Thatcher since the morning he’d come to the house. During their conversation on the porch, he’d told Thatcher more than was comfortable about his and Daisy’s personal life, but he knew instinctually that his secrets were safe with this man of few words.
He also knew that Thatcher wouldn’t have hanged the Johnson kid, but had scared him into thinking he would. Apparently Thatcher also had perceived that Elray’s desperation might signify a need to flee. Bill thought Thatcher was probably right.
Elray had dropped back down onto the cot. His knees were bobbing again at a frantic rate. Bill asked, “What’s going on?”
“Nuthin’.”
“Did you intend to steal a horse?”
“Naw.”
Thatcher said, “He admitted he was until he realized they didn’t come already saddled.”
Wanting to laugh, Bill managed a strict tone. “That true, Elray?”
Glowering at Thatcher, he said sullenly, “He didn’t have to rope me and jerk me to the ground. It’s a miracle my butt bone ain’t broke. I’d’ve stopped running if he’d’ve asked me nice.”
Bill said, “Where were you planning to go on horseback?”
“Just ridin’. I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
Bill went over to the cot, motioned for Elray to scoot to the other end of it, and sat down where the boy had been. “My supper’s getting cold on your account, and you dare to bullshit me? Now, where were you off to that was so important you’d steal a horse to get there?”
Elray’s face muscles began working like a child’s on the brink of tears. “Somewhere, anywhere, to lay low for a while.”
“Why do you need to lay low?”
He choked on a sob. “If they find out I was here talking to y’all they’ll…they’ll…no telling what they’ll do to me.”
“Who?”
“Cain’t say.”
“Your family?”
Elray wiped his dripping nose on his sleeve. “Goddamn Wally.”
“What about him?”
>
“He was always stirrin’ up trouble, then skippin’ out, leavin’ it to everybody else to clean up his mess.”
“Is that what’s happening now? A cleanup?”
Elray didn’t answer.
Bill said, “Has something come to light about who killed Wally?”
Elray’s eyes darted between Bill and Thatcher, then he lowered his head and shook it no.