There was little doubt Derek had shot the man lying dead on the dusty street.
For one thing, Derek’s six-shooter was still smoking.
For another, it was a gunshot that woke him from his slumber.
What wasn’t so clear was just where that left him with the mob of folks who had crowded around the scene. Derek’s sleepwalking had landed him in some precarious positions before, but this was the first time he was cut off from all hope of escape.
He scanned the throng of faces …
Some of the men looked angry.
Some looked happy, somehow. Almost giddy.
Most just seemed a strange combination of shocked and bored.
And the women … well, there were lots of flushed cheeks and fluttering eyelashes. That, Derek had seen before, and he’d have to deal with it by and by.
If he worked his way out his predicament, that was.
After he’d turned about the circle of onlookers a couple of times, a thought hit him …
Where in tarnation was the sheriff of this town?
“Ain’t you all got a sheriff?” Derek decided the best course of action was to push the issue. He wouldn’t have killed a man for no reason, and there were plenty of witnesses.
Why, this whole mess could probably be cleared up with just a few minutes of talking.
“Well?” he prodded.
Suddenly, no one would look him in the eye, but a few of the gawkers were goggling the dead man.
Derek followed their gazes to the center of the street, where his victim lie. It was then, for the first time, he noticed the sun glinting off something shiny on the man’s chest.
It was a sheriff’s star.
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