Sathow's Sinners by Marcus Galloway

Author:Marcus Galloway
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-11-03T16:00:00+00:00

21

After taking a bit more time to scout the vicinity of the smokehouse while also watching the men who were guarding it, Pete made his way back to the Straight to the Eight. Deaugrey was at the same table and barely looked up to acknowledge Pete was there after being tapped on the shoulder.

“Just another hour or two,” was all Deaugrey said before shifting his intense gaze back to his cards.

Normally, Pete didn’t take kindly to being brushed off in such a casual manner. When dealing with Deaugrey Scott, however, it helped to set one’s expectations somewhat south of normal. Pete stepped up to the bar and waited for the tender to come to him.

“You get what you needed, friend?” the barkeep asked.

“Mostly. How’s he doing?” Pete asked while nodding over to Deaugrey’s table.

The barkeep looked over there as well. Shrugging, he said, “Seems to be doing well enough. The other players don’t seem too happy when they take a stretch or come over for drinks, so I guess that bodes well for your friend.”

“Speaking of drinks . . .”

“Your friend hasn’t had one that wasn’t at least half water since you left. I was about to start tapering it off even more in a few minutes.”

Pete watched Deaugrey for a few seconds, taking careful note of his manner and posture. Deaugrey seemed relaxed, but not overly so. When he spoke, his voice still boomed to its normal, aggravating bluster. “He’s fine the way he is,” Pete told the barkeep. Placing some money on the bar, he added, “This should cover the rest until the game is over. You’re doing a fine job.”

“Happy to be of service. Anything else you need? Something that’ll hit you harder than liquor? Maybe some company for the night?”

“I’ll let you know. You got any rum?”

“Part of a bottle. Don’t know how well it’s held up, though. There’s not much call for that particular poison around here. Only reason I have any was because one of the former—”

“I’ll have a glass,” Pete said sharply.

Knowing how to take a hint, the barkeep searched the bottles behind him without another word. When he found it, he pulled out the stopper, took a sniff, winced and poured some into a glass.

Pete reached for his drink and had a sip. He’d tasted better, but he’d certainly had a whole lot worse. After finding a comfortable spot where he could watch Deaugrey’s table without being jostled by too many other customers, the tracker settled in for a while.

Surprisingly enough, Deaugrey actually did realize Pete was sitting there the entire time. He came over to stand beside the tracker before Pete could finish his second glass of rum.

“How you holding up?” Pete asked.

Deaugrey let out a snorting laugh. “I was about to ask you the same thing. It’s not too often that you indulge in that piss water you like so much, but when you do it usually means a wild night.”

“That remains to be seen. I’ve gone to visit Nate.”

“Still just those same two morons standing watch over him?”

“Yeah,” Pete said.

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