Moonstone Cowboy

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Come with us now on a journey to… The Wild West and the town of Moonstone. Vince is the cute cowboy with a big heart and an even bigger wardrobe. Howard is the dark and lamenting Sheriff trapped in an emotional cycle of guilt and need. In a world that’s like, but not like, the Boosh we know and love anything can happen (AU). But mostly our lads get in loads of bother. There’s plenty of mature imagery peeps so M+ for sex, violence, hurt/comfort, darkness, slash, angst etc.

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Window

Contents

Window

Having seen Mrs. Dalston and her boys safely home Vince decides to make his way back along the railroad rather than via the main street. He figures Howard will be busy with the Doctor and the body, and quite honestly he just needs a little time to himself.

Vince isn’t one for long sessions of self-analysis. He survives on his instincts and lives life fairly spontaneously. It is difficult for him then to ponder over everything that has happened in the last seventy-two hours. No matter how many times he tells himself to ‘go with the flow’ a part of him knows that it’s not as simple as that. These feelings that are fizzing and popping inside of him are feelings he’s never experienced before. He has no idea how to handle them really. He only knows that, for whatever reason, his body is telling him to get close to Howard. Even now, as he ambles along the narrow footpath, his desire to be next to the Sheriff burns strong inside of him. Vince wonders if it’s a manifestation of hero worship.

But then the memories flood back. Of the taste of Howard’s mouth, of Howard’s fingers weaving through his hair, of the scent of Howard’s skin, of the sound of Howard gasping and shuddering beneath his touch.

Vince smiles and shakes his head.

No, the way Howard is affecting him is well more complicated than hero worship. And he knows that he is affecting Howard in the same way.

This wasn’t altogether unusual. Vince is aware of his gift for attracting attention, and he’d been with older lovers before. But Howard didn’t exactly fit with his usual type of admirer. For a start his lovers had always been women. In itself this wasn’t bothering Vince. Yes, he was totally inexperienced in this area, but he was certainly finding being stimulated by another male enjoyable. He also found Howard’s wavering between awkwardness and confidence very arousing, not to mention those intelligent brown eyes, those strong yet gentle hands, and a chest so broad he felt sure he could curl himself up upon it.

If anything is concerning Vince here it is more the fear of commitment. In some ways it was a little late to start questioning this as already things have gone quite far. Still he can’t help but worry that he is rushing into decisions. They barely know each other do they? He’d hardly come to town expecting to land a job and a suitor. He hadn’t planned to come to town at all. And what about his mates? Soon Cam and Den would be wondering where the hell he’d gotten to. They were used to him disappearing from time to time, heck once they’d found him accidentally working in a hat shop, but more than three or four days was kind of pushing it. He’d have to find out about sending them a telegram and maybe getting his stuff sent on.

There you see, he’s doing it again. Making little plans about staying put in Moonstone. He re-shakes his head. Is Vince Noir actually ready for a relationship?

Mid thought Vince notices that the path has broadened, and looking up sees he’s nearing the murder scene. He stops walking for a moment, taking a pause to refocus. These personal issues will have to wait. He has a responsibility to the town now to help catch a murderer. A responsibility to Mrs. Parrot and to Howard. A responsibility to himself even, to prove that he has what it takes to be a lawman.

He kicks absent-mindedly at a loose stone and then immediately regrets that he might have scuffed his boot in doing so. As he bends forward to study his toe his catches sight of something glinting to the left of him. He squints and then moves towards it, stepping warily as if his subconscious already knows what it is before his consciousness catches up.

A knife.

Vince reaches to pick it up and then stops himself. He gets a vivid impression race through his mind of a dark figure standing behind Lance Parrot, this knife in hand, slicing through soft skin.

He turns away from the object and dry heaves. Swallowing down the bile he takes a couple of long, deep breaths before turning back.

It’s quite an ordinary looking knife. Not particularly ornate, not particularly large, but it does look exceedingly sharp. Vince is grateful that the blade appears relatively clean and guesses that it’s been wiped on a trouser leg or kerchief. ‘That might be something to look out for,’ he thinks to himself, ‘someone with blood on their clothes.’ He pulls from his pocket a pair of dress gloves that he’s stowed there earlier and carefully picks the knife up between the tips of his fingers. He can’t bear to touch it with his naked hands. It carries too much evil on its hilt.

The Deputy removes a glove and places the knife inside of it, acknowledging that he can never wear these items again. He wraps the second glove around the first, and puts the whole thing back into his pocket. He then takes the time to scan the ground around him, checking for anything else that might have been dropped or any marks in the dirt. He continues walking, eyes sweeping from side to side across the path, trying to pick out anything that might be suspicious.

Nothing!

Still Vince has to hand it to himself, finding the knife was a brilliant turn up. Maybe Howard was right, maybe he was a bringer of good fortune. Although he doubted Lance Parrot would think so. Vince’s mood immediately turns dour. On reflection, since he’d arrived, Howard had been beaten up, he’d been threatened and a man had been murdered. That could hardly be construed as fortuitous now could it?

Vince feels a bit sad at this thought. The need to be with Howard swarms through him again, a sudden urgent need to feel appreciated and reassured and somewhat validated. It’s already like a part of him is lost without Howard by his side.

The Deputy quickly finds the path back to the main street. After looking left and right he finds the bank, and the sound of a bawling woman tells him when he’s correctly identified the Doctor’s house. Mrs. Parrot no doubt. He opens the door quietly.

He enters a small reception room. Vince closes the door behind him and puts his back up against it, not sure how to proceed. Eleanor Hopkins is seated on one side, an arm wrapped around the shoulders of the crying woman. Vince catches Eleanor’s eye and smiles sympathetically. Eleanor smiles and nods in return. On the other side of the room Lucien Hopkins is talking to a man Vince doesn’t recognise. Lucien spots him.

“Ah Deputy. Very good, very good. The Sheriff is out the back. He said for me to take you straight through.”

“Thank you Mr. Hopkins.”

Vince follows Lucien out of the room and along a small corridor to a closed door. He knocks.

“Who is it?”

Howard’s voice.

“It’s Lucien. I have Deputy Noir with me.”

The door flies open and Howard springs out. He reaches for Vince’s wrist and drags the younger man into the room with great urgency and a hasty “Thank you Lucien.”

He kicks the door shut and spins Vince around to face him.

“Howard, easy, what’s up?”

Howard places a hand on each of Vince’s shoulders and looks him straight in the eye. “Nothing’s up, just glad to see you is all. Where on earth have you been?”

“I took Mrs. Dalston home as I said and then went for a bit of a walk.”

“Bit of a walk? Vince, a man has been murdered. It might not be safe.”

“I’m okay aren’t I? Besides don’t you think Lance was killed for a specific reason?”

“Yeah, I suppose so. Sorry. I’m just a bit jumpy. This thing’s got my head spinning around.”

“It’s alright. It’s sweet you worry.”

Vince stands on his tiptoes in order to plant a kiss on Howard’s cheek, but in suddenly being able to see over Howard’s shoulder realises that they are not alone in the room. Bent over a table, luckily with his back to the pair, is Doctor Bamshoot.

Vince quickly drops back down to his heels and mouths’ a ‘sorry’ to Howard. Howard raises an eyebrow and turns away from Vince.

“Doctor. Let me introduce you to my new Deputy, Vince Noir.”

The Doctor raises his head and Vince sees that it’s the body of Lance Parrot he’s been leaning over. No surprise there really.

“Yes, we’ve already met briefly.”

“Good afternoon Doctor Bamshoot.”

“Excuse me for a moment longer won’t you gentlemen. I’ve nearly finished my examinations.” The Doctor returns to the body.

Vince grabs Howard’s arm. “Can I talk to you? Somewhere private?”

Howard frowns with curiosity. “Of course. This way.”

The two men pass through a small utility room and yet another door that leads back outside. Vince tucks himself up against the wall and beckons Howard to do the same.

“I don’t know who to trust yet Howard so I thought I should only show this to you.”

Vince pulls from his pocket the bundle of gloves and carefully unwraps the knife. He holds it up.

“I think I found the murder weapon.”

Howard backs up a little in alarm, hands raised in astonishment. “Where the hell..?”

“Down by the tracks, not far from where the body was found actually.”

“And you picked it up?”

“Well yeah, I couldn’t exactly leave it lying around now could I?”

Howard reaches out and takes the implement gingerly between his thumb and forefinger. He holds it up to the light and studies it closely.

“Well it’s definitely sharp enough to do the job.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“There’s not much else to suggest the owner though is there?”

“Not really Howard. It’s not new though is it? That hilt looks fairly worn.”

“Sure is. Someone will miss this. We just need to figure out who.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Not sure exactly. I’ve asked the Doctor to check Lance over fully, to make sure there’s no other signs of injury. I’ll talk to his wife when she’s a little more responsive and see if she knows why someone might want to kill her husband. Other than that I guess I’ll have to try and interview everyone in town.”

“And the knife?”

“Well there’s no point stashing it away. I’ll show it around a few people, see if anyone recognises it.”

Howard re-wraps the blade in the gloves.

“Anything else Vince? Did you get anything more out of the Dalston boys?”

“No. They were having a race, they stumbled across the body and then they ran home to fetch their mother.”

“Where’s Mr. Dalston?”

“Out of town for a couple more days. He works for the railroad as an engineer. She said he’s in the next town over.”

“Yeah, that sounds genuine enough. Mr. Dalston always struck me as a decent sort. Well then, let’s get back inside and see what the Doctor has found.”

As they turn to go back in the Doctor unexpectedly appears at the door, wiping his hands.

“Sorry gentlemen but there’s nothing to add I’m afraid. Lance Parrot was killed by a knife slicing through his throat and nothing else. Other than the odd minor cut and bruise there’s nothing to suggest he’s been beaten or bound or anything such thing. If there’s any consolation in this I’d say he died very quickly, probably before he even realised what was happening.”

“Thanks Doctor.”

“What about Mrs. Parrot?” Vince’s eyes have widened in concern, “She seems very distressed.”

“I’ll go to her now. Maybe give her a drop of laudanum to help calm her. Are you happy for her to see her husband now Sheriff?”

“Yes of course Doctor.”

“Well I’ll bid you good day then gentlemen. I believe I’ve Corky Hamilton waiting outside too. Ready to measure Lance up I should imagine.”

The Doctor returns back inside.

“Corky Hamilton?”

“Town carpenter. He makes all the coffins, not that there’s a regular demand for them.”

“Of course.”

The two men are quiet for a moment. When they both look back at each other it’s uncannily at the same time.

Vince smiles. “So what now then?”

Howard smiles back. “Well I don’t believe we’ve had a meal yet today have we?”

“How can you think of food at a time like this?”

“A man can’t work on an empty stomach. Besides I really want to get home and finish cleaning myself up.”

“You reckon you might need some help with that again?”

Howard laughs. “I reckon I’m going to need to scrub my mind with all the dirty images you’re putting in there.”

“I can’t stop thinking of that too. I mean it’s not like I want to, well not right now when we’re trying to be all serious and professional.”

Howard nods in agreement.

“You’re right. We’ve got to stay focused and we’ve got to be more careful. We can trust Monty but I don’t want word to get out.”

“No problem.”

They look fondly at each other again still smiling.

“What goes on behind closed doors is nobody’s business though is it Vince?”

“Closed and locked doors?”

“Yeah, locked is probably a good idea.”

“Well then no Howard, that’s nobody’s business but ours.”

Again they hold each other’s gaze before Howard suddenly darts around the corner of the building with Vince in hot pursuit.

“Howard, stop a sec. Come help me with this.”

Howard pulls up just before he rounds the last corner. He turns to look back at Vince who’s standing pointing at a large metal tub leaning up against the back of the jailhouse.

“Seriously Vince?”

“Look, you’re filthy and I’m not getting any cleaner what with, well, you know, sex and murder and all.”

Howard hushes him. “Vince.”

“C’mon Howard. You’ll love it. Think how good you’ll feel after.”

“But it’s going to take ages to fill it.”

“It’ll be worth it though.”

Howard stands still for a moment, staring at Vince. Eventually though he smiles and moves towards the tub. He lifts it above his head in one fluid motion. Vince looks impressed.

“I got this Vince. You’d better get some water then. There’s a pail or two out here. I’ll get the stove on. I’ll start some food too.”

“Nice one.”

It must have taken over an hour to heat the amount of water required, but as Howard stands in front of the large metal tub, now naked under his cloak, he knows in one short step he’s going to feel utterly content.

“You sure you don’t want to hop in first Vince?”

Vince is standing by the stove, another large pan on the boil. “As tempting as that sounds this is all yours.”

Howard puts one foot into the water. The warmth of it travels up his leg. He lifts the bottom of his cloak and steps in with his other foot. He turns to face Vince, the steam rising to surround him. He starts to lift the cloak higher but then hesitates as he realises that Vince has moved and is now sitting on the top end of the sofa. His arms are crossed and he’s staring at him with a cute, lopsided grin on his face.

Howard hugs himself. “Turn around then.”
Vince grins wider. “No way”

Howard shifts a little uncomfortably under Vince’s gaze. The water laps at the side of the tub.

“Vince please.”

“I said no way! I’ve worked hard for this, collecting water back and forth, clearing the furniture away to make room. And anyway you’re one to talk considering the amount of times I’ve caught you looking at me.”

“I said I was sorry about that.”

“Yeah, you did. But I’m still not turning around.”

“Vince…”

“Look Howard, do you remember when I first met you and you told me never to touch you.”

“Yeah.” Howard pulls the cloak tighter around himself.

“Well you touched me first remember, and then I touched you. We’ve really touched each other now and it’s good isn’t it.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“So you were wrong to not want me to touch you.”

“Vince, I know, but…”

“It’s alright Howard. I’m not trying to trip you up. What I’m trying to say is what if we go that route again.”

“Hmm?”

“Well you don’t want me to look at you, so how about you look at me first, then I look at you, and then, well, it’ll all be good too.”

“I’m not sure if I understand what you’re…oh…”

Vince is already up from the arm of the sofa and undoing the buttons on his shirt. Not that there are many to undo being that Vince has a habit of only buttoning a couple anyway.

His shirt falls open.

“God you’re beautiful,”

It is Vince’s turn to hesitate. “What?”

“You’re beautiful Vince. You can stand there and do that because you’re beautiful. I can’t do that. What am I?” Howard looks down at himself, “I can’t offer you that. I’m just an ageing old gunslinger, way past my prime. You don’t want to look at me. But you Vince, you’re like a work of goddamn art. Look at you! You’ve got skin like fuckin’ silk and a body that looks brand new, and eyes like…”

“Howard, stop it!”

“..eyes like…”

“Please stop it. Howard, you can’t mean that.”

“Of course I mean it.”

“I’ve been called a lot of things in my time, but beautiful just ain’t one of them.”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“Yeah, of course. All the bloody time, trying my damndest to do something amazing with this shambles of a body of mine. I know I dress well and I like my hair. Actually I really like my hair, but that’s it really. Look at me properly. I’m bony and pale. There’s nothing of me, not like you. You’ve got muscles Howard. You’re tall and strong and bronzed. And my stupid face. What’s going on there? Too much that’s what! But your face is kind and welcoming. Your eyes are warm and intelligent. I think mine scare people.”

“Your eyes don’t scare people Vince, they dazzle people. They’re incredible. Mine! Well where are mine? When I haven’t shaved it’s hard to tell one side of my head from the other. And as for muscles I don’t think so. I’ve a pot belly if that’s what you mean. My legs are okay, I don’t mind my legs, but as to what is resting on top of them the less said the better.”

Both men cease talking. They stare, as has become their way, directly into each other’s eyes. Grins start to appear in the corners of their mouths and suddenly both of them are laughing heartily.

“Should we just agree to disagree then that we’re both gorgeous?”

Vince re-fastens the two centre buttons on his shirt still laughing. “Yeah I guess. Let’s just agree to that. Now for goodness sake get your kit off and sit down before the water goes cold.”

Vince turns around, his back to the Sheriff.

Howard quickly unties the cloak and lowers himself into the water, sighing as he does so. He lies back, submerging as much of himself as he can. The tub is big, but Howard is too.

“Can I turn around now?”

“Sure. Thanks for that. It’s just, you know…”

“Yeah, I know. Still, I’m going to have to see a bit if you want the water topped up.”

“That’s fine actually. I feel more comfortable about it now I’m actually in.”

“That makes no sense.”

“I think maybe it’s that I’m less on display.”

Vince walks towards him with the pot in his hands. “I wasn’t lying though Howard. You’ve really nothing to be ashamed of.”

Howard opens one eye and smiles at him. “And neither have you Vince.”

Vince pours the hot water into the bath taking care not to hit Howard directly with any. “It’s not burning you is it?”

“No that’s lovely.”

Howard settles even further back.

Vince places the pot on the floor and sits down next to the side of the bath. He crosses both his arms along the edge of it and pillows his head on them.

“You look tired little man.”

Howard takes his arm out of the water and places it around Vince’s shoulders. He gently strokes Vince’s hair.

Vince closes his eyes, enjoying the sensation. “I am a bit. It’s been quite the day.”

“Yep, sure has.”

Vince opens his eyes again. “Howard, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course you can?”

“Do you think Bainbridge has something to do with Lance Parrot’s death?”

Howard sighs. ‘I don’t doubt it Vince. I know I shouldn’t jump to that conclusion, but who else could it be?”

“He wouldn’t have done it himself though would he?”

“No. Definitely not.”

“I wonder what it’s all about.”

“Money probably. Money or betrayal. I don’t know exactly, but it’s my opportunity Vince. If I can prove he had something to do with Lance’s murder, or even if I can finally charge some of those men of his, well that’ll be a happy day.”

Vince closes his eyes. He exhales and allows himself to fully enjoy the pleasure given by Howard stroking his hair. He’s never allowed anyone to show his bonce this much attention before. He thinks there’s probably something in that fact, something quite significant.

“Vince I need to tell you something.”

Vince murmurs an ‘mmm’ in return. He feels so perfectly sleepy and he doesn’t want Howard to stop massaging his head. He knows that scrunched up on the floor leaning over a metal bath and lying on your own arms is less than the ideal way to take a kip, but for now he can’t imagine a more perfect place. He feels so content.

“Vince.”

Vince manages a “yeah?”

Howard stops stroking his head and instead shakes him lightly on the shoulder. “I’m sorry but I have to tell you.”

Vince opens one eye and focuses blearily on Howard. Seeing the anguish in Howard’s face he forces open the second.

“Howard, what is it?”

It hits him that Howard looks more than just anguished. He looks downright petrified. Vince sits up in sudden concern.

“What?”

He reaches out to put a hand against Howard’s face but the Sheriff turns away from him. Vince is left hanging for a moment before he decides to lay his hand on Howard’s arm instead.

“What’s going on?”

Still turned away Howard starts speaking. His voice is flat in tone, a sign that Vince now knows means he’s about to say something serious or difficult. The young man mentally prepares himself.

“Me and you Vince. Have we got something here?”

Vince takes a deep breath. “Um, I think, maybe…”

“If we analyse it too much it might not work anymore though. We might fuck it up.”

Vince frowns. “Well let’s not analyse it then.”

“But I need to tell you something and that might mean analysing it a bit, and if we analyse it I think I might scare you off.”

“Do you actually believe that?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh okay”

Vince pats Howard on the arm and goes to stand, but Howard quickly turns back and grabs his wrist.

“Please Vince hear me out.”

“I was just going to get you some more water.”

“Please.” Howard loosens his grip on Vince’s wrist and cups his cheek instead. “I haven’t exactly told you everything.”

Vince nods and puts his hand on top of Howard’s. He kisses the Sheriff’s palm lightly.

“You know nothing you tell me is going to change anything right?”

Howard softly rubs the spot where Vince’s side-burn meets his hairline.

“I dunno. It might change something. I think you’ve a right to know everything though.”

“Have I? Look, you don’t have to keep looking backwards all the time and worrying about everything I may or may not think. You can relax with me you know.”

“But still I feel I should tell you everything.”

“Howard, I really like you. Nothing you tell me will change that, but please don’t tell me anything if you don’t want to. You don’t have to keep torturing yourself this way. We can just have fun can’t we?”

“That’s just it Vince. I don’t think I can have fun until you know the whole story. Maybe then, once I know that you have all the facts, maybe then I can relax too.”

“So you do want to analyse this.”

“I don’t but I do. I’m scared of telling you stuff and I’m scared of not telling you stuff.”

Vince kisses Howard’s hand once more and pushes himself up onto his knees. “Sleep with me.”

Howard’s features show utter confusion.

“Excuse me? What? What do you mean?”

Vince leans in closer to Howard’s face. “You want to tell me this thing that’s so big and awful that you think it might change us. Well I want to curl up next to you while you tell me, so sleep with me tonight.”

“Where?” Howard falters slightly.

“What do you mean where?”

“Well the beds are small.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“But why?”

“Howard, stop questioning everything. I want you to hold me. Is that so difficult to understand? I want to be in your arms when you tell me this big, bad thing. I want you to see that I’m not going to run away or judge you or get upset.”

“But you might judge me.”

“Right, that’s it.”

Vince leans over and grabs Howard’s head firmly. He launches his lips onto the Sheriff’s, kissing roughly and urgently, forcing his tongue into Howard’s mouth.

Howard startles at first but then he grabs Vince back. Their teeth clash together but he doesn’t care. They guzzle each other greedily, the water sloshing and spilling over the side of the bath as they frantically devour each other. With a brutish strength Howard suddenly yanks Vince forward and half onto him. Vince mentally curses as he feels the water soak through his shirt and part of his trousers, but he tries to ignore it. Instead he focuses back on Howard who is sucking the life out of his tongue.

The Sheriff is thinking about Vince’s clothes too, but not for the same reasons. He just wants to feel skin and hurriedly searches Vince’s chest area for the buttons. It’s awkward as Vince is lying on top of him and he just can’t seem to manoeuvre his fingers properly underneath. “Oh fuck it” he says suddenly before grabbing a piece of the shirt between each fist and pulling forcefully. The buttons pop off.

“Howard!”

“I don’t care.”

“But I do, I like this shirt.”

“Shut up Vince.”

Howard grabs Vince’s head and pulls him into another breath-stealing kiss before the young man can argue more. With his free hand he works the shirt off of Vince’s arms and flings it across the room. He runs his hands down Vince’s back and begins to massage and squeeze the soft flesh. He works one hand around to the front of Vince’s trousers and tugs at the fastening. Vince gasps against him.

“Take them off!”

Howard stops kissing Vince and bites gently at his neck instead. Vince gasps again.

“I said take them off.”

Vince pushes himself away and stands up shakily. He clutches at the front of his trousers ready to wrench them down.

“Slower!”

Vince hesitates, catches his breath and then slowly starts to undo the drawstring.

“No wait!”

Vince stops as Howard lays back and submerges himself fully under the water. He watches as Howard rubs his hair and face, washing away some of the day’s grime, before reemerging dripping and glistening. Howard’s wet lashes highlight the sparkle in his deep brown eyes. Vince swallows.

“Okay I’m ready, now take them off.”

“Hmm?” Vince is more than a little distracted, especially as Howard has grasped hold of himself and is moving his fist slowly up and down his own length.

“I said strip.”

Vince returns his attention to his trousers and using both his hands coaxes the drawstring undone. He pushes the trousers down but stops at the precise point where his V lines disappear into the dark mass of his pubic hair.

Howard speeds up his pace.

Vince continues to lower his pants, bending with them as they fall softly around his ankles. He kicks them away and then straightens back up. He’s never felt at the same time so exposed and yet so lusted after. He stands there, like a pale Adonis, nothing moving save for the rise and fall of his chest and the twitching of his own penis as he savours the sight of Howard touching himself because of him.

Howard’s eyes have widened significantly, quite a feat considering their dimensions.

“Come here.”

Vince moves towards the tub. He kneels down and meets Howard’s lips with his own, the kiss this time slower. Howard kisses him back but as his breath becomes more jagged he has to pull away. Vince licks upwards towards his ear and whispers into it,

“Would you like some help?”

Howard nods and moves his hand out of the way allowing Vince to grasp his cock. He shudders. He’s already so close from his own ministrations it takes but a few strokes from Vince, along with the fact the Vince is nibbling at his ear, for Howard to climax.

Vince trails back to Howard’s mouth and the two men share a long, deep kiss before Howard breaks free. He grabs Vince’s face between his hands and stares directly into the blue whirlpools.

“Your turn little man,” he growls sexily.

Vince trembles slightly under his touch. “Howard, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Howard holds his face for a few seconds more before suddenly rising up out of the bath, water cascading off of him and onto the floor around the tub. He steps out and grabs Vince in a full body clinch, kissing and embracing as much of Vince as he can, before lifting the smaller man off of his feet and throwing him roughly onto the couch.

“I said your turn.” Howard dives on top of him.

“..Oomph…”

“It’s time to find out exactly what you like Deputy.”

“Honestly Howard you don’t have to.”

“Do you not want me to?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just…”

“What about this?”

“…Oheurrghhfuck Howard!” Vince grabs at Howard’s head, simultaneously clutching at and stroking the soft curls. “Christ that feels good. Uhh. Uhh… hhuuhha… ahhuuh haahhuuhhaahhuu… kay Howard… I think it’s safe to say I like that… huh ha huh ha.”

“It gets better.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna make it even better. Ready?”

“I dunno. What you gonna… Erghh nnnn… Hhuhhahhuhhahhuhha… ashithhuuhha… Howard Huuha…”

Vince arches his back away from the couch, his eyes screwed tight shut and mouth wide open.

“OhchristHoward. How the fuck? Oh shit… i’mgonnahhahuu… hhahujhahuhajjjhh… shhihahhh… gonna…… fuckhhow.”

“What’s that Vince? You want me to stop?”

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

“So just here then?”

“…eeeryggghuh ah uh ah uh ah uh-Ah-uh-Ah-uh-Ahh…”

“God you look beautiful.”

“Howard shut… up…uhh-hhhhhaa… – fuck I’m close, uhh I’m so fuckin’ close, uhhenn, fuck… uh-haaaaaa-uhh-hhhhhaaaa-hhhhhhuuuuuu-haa-ennnn..”

“Come on Vince.”

“Howard, goddammit…Uhhhhhhh….aaaaaaahhhh…”

“Come on.”

“Huuuhhhh… hhhhahh… huhh… haa… Howard… hah… hhah… huh… hhuuh… hhhu… fuck… fuck… fuck… hhhhuu… I’m… I’m… hhhhhmm fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!!!

“Jesus Christ Vince!”

Howard kisses his way up Vince’s stomach and chest before placing the softest of pecks on Vince’s cheek. He then flops heavily onto his back, wrapping his arm behind Vince’s neck as he does so and pulling the younger man into a strong embrace against him. Vince, still panting, kisses Howard’s shoulder before snuggling into it and closing his eyes. Howard entwines his fingers through Vince’s hair and pushes his nose into it breathing Vince in.

“You are always new.”

Vince opens one eye. “Umm? What’s that?”

“You are always new. The last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest.”

“Did you write that Howard?”

“No, John Keats did.”

“It’s lovely.”

“Seems fitting.”

Vince recloses his eye. “Go on then.”

“What?”

“Recite some more.”

“I can’t remember it properly. It was a letter I think. This bit’s my favourite though…”

Howard clears his throat. “My mind has been the most discontented and restless one that ever was put into a body too small for it. I never felt my mind repose upon anything with complete and undistracted enjoyment, upon no person but you. When you are in the room my thoughts never fly out of the window. You always concentrate my whole senses.”

Vince nestles further into Howard. “That’s well nice.”

“It’s true though Vince, those words. It’s how I feel about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and that’s why I need to tell you that thing now.”

Vince opens his eyes and raises himself up enough to look directly into Howard’s.

“I actually want you to tell me now Howard.”

Howard cocks one eyebrow. “Vince, this isn’t a joke.”

“Damn right this isn’t a joke!” Look, I’m here, I’m really here. I’m lying naked and spent in your arms. If you don’t tell me now then I’m…

“I used to be a whore.”

“..gonna get up and…what?”

Howard sighs deeply. “I used to be a whore Vince, a pinchcock, a rich man’s dock.”

“When?”

Howard sighs again. “Years ago, when I was not much more than a kid. I was born in England you see, in Leeds. My father was a cloth merchant but I always wanted a better life for myself than that. I heard so many stories about America from the men my father would buy and sell to. It sounded so exciting.”

“I’ve always thought London sounded exciting. I’d love to go there.”

“London never really interested me to be honest, but America! Well as soon as I was old enough I packed a bag, said goodbye to my family and talked myself on to a canal boat heading south to Liverpool. I soon found myself wandering the port. I didn’t know what I was doing. I thought I’d be able to find a ship and get a position on it. I didn’t care what I did, deckhand, cook’s skivvy, anything. I just wanted to go to The New World. But all I found instead were gangs and whores and rich and poor living side-by-side.”

“So you were just walking around on your own?”

“Yeah, so stupid now when I think of it. Eventually I came across a pub that looked safe enough. I went in and asked if anyone knew of any ship’s sailing to America. Some bloke came over and offered me a beer. He got me some food, and was really friendly. I didn’t think anything of it. He said he could give me a bed for the night and I followed him. Stupid, naive, innocent me.”

“Were there others?”

“Yeah, a whole house of us. Maybe ten or twelve.”

“All boys?”

“Yep.”

“Shit!”

“I know.”

“How long were you there for?”

“I dunno Vince. A couple of years, maybe a bit less. It’s all quite a blur to be honest.”

“But who, you know, who did you…?”

“Anyone who asked for it, but we had regulars. Some were really nice actually. They’d feed me, let me take a bath, mend my clothes. Others weren’t quite so amiable.”

Howard points to his shoulder area and a patch of scarring.

“I had noticed that Howard but I didn’t want to ask.”

“It’s a burn. One got a bit mad at me when I answered him back. Chucked a scalding pot of broth at me and then made me eat it off the floor.”

“Oh Howard.”

“There was this one guy though. Thank the lord for this one guy. He told me his name was Stephen but I always thought that was an alias. I had an appointment with him the day after the broth incident and so he saw my burns. He got things in motion straight away. I’d always told him about my dreams to go to America and do you know what he did? He made it happen. I still don’t know to this day how or why he did it, but that very night I found myself in new clothes with a new identity bound for the New World on a ship laden with god only knows what.”

“And eventually to Moonstone?”

“Yeah, Moonstone the long way around, via Boston first. I fell back into the whoring for a bit there to make some easy money, but then I realised that America was not England. I could be whoever I wanted to be here. I spent my money on a gun and practiced shooting it day and night. I learnt how to ride a horse. I hitched rides, and eventually began offering my services as protection to convoys heading west. I was big and strong and folks seemed to trust me. One day I met Tommy who was coming out here to set up a town as Sheriff. He saw some potential in me, or some such thing, and that was that.”

“Wow, you’ve done a lot.”

“Sure have.”

“I must seem so boring to you.”

“What? No! Of course not. You’ve brought me back to life Vince is what you’ve done. For years I’ve been trapped in my own self-loathing. You’ve opened my eyes again.”

“I can hardly tell.”

“Oi!”

Howard pokes Vince in the ribs. They fall silent for a bit. Vince settles back down against Howard’s chest.

“So you’re not bothered then Vince?”

“I don’t think so Howard. It was ages ago wasn’t it. I’m hardly gonna hold that against you.”

Howard strokes Vince’s hair again.

“I appreciate your acceptance Vince, but it doesn’t quite end there.”

Vince turns his head to look up at the Sheriff through his dark lashes. A lump forms in the back of Howard’s throat as he struggles to meet the gaze.

“What else?”

Howard looks away. “Well the last time it happened wasn’t quite that long ago.”

“How long’s not that long?”

“About two years.”

Vince tries not to react. Instead he puts his face back against Howard’s chest, listening to the Sheriff’s heartbeat banging out a rapid rhythm that echoes through his ear canal.

Howard’s waiting for a reaction. Nothing. He continues, “Give or take six months.”

Howard looks down at the top of Vince’s head, wishing for all the world he could read the younger man’s thoughts right now. Then again if he did, and he didn’t like what he heard, then he’d only have himself to blame.

“It’s alright Howard, go on.”

Howard jumps slightly, surprised by Vince’s sudden words rumbling through him. Instead of continuing though he pushes himself out from underneath Vince and spins into a seated position. He puts his head in his hands. Vince sits upright too and moves in close beside Howard. He wraps his arms as best he can around the big man’s shoulders and rests his cheek against his back.

“I’m still here lawman. I’m not going anywhere.”

Howard leans towards Vince allowing himself to be pulled into a hug. It’s his turn to rest his head against Vince’s chest. Vince embraces Howard’s head tight to him and kisses the top of it tenderly. He rocks Howard gently back and forth, trying to offer comfort as best he knows how. He whispers into those wispy curls,

“I’m here.”

Vince reaches behind him and grabs a throw from the back of the couch. He pulls it around his own left shoulder and wraps the rest of it around the both of them. He continues to hold the Sheriff this way, waiting patiently for Howard’s courage to return.

Howard feels numb. He knows it’s ridiculous to have come this far and then stop so suddenly, but this is it, the last great reveal. He cannot believe how much he has already confided in this man, this man whose arms he now lies enclosed within, emotionally and literally naked. He closes his eyes and takes the time to enjoy the feeling of being held. It’s been so long for him, so very long.

Eventually Howard raises his head from Vince’s chest and turns to face him. Vince’s eyes widen in expectation and unadulterated compassion. Howard sighs and shakes his head in disbelief.

“You really are still here.”

Vince nods.

Howard leans forward and plants a kiss on Vince lips. He then rises from the couch, retrieves his trousers from the floor and slips them on. Vince wraps the throw tighter around himself, still quiet, still patient, watching Howard’s every move with that quizzical look on his face.

Howard glances at him and offers a weak smile. Vince smiles back.

“Do you want your pants?”

“I’m not going anywhere Howard.”

Howard bends down and picks them off the floor. He turns and offers them to Vince. “Still, you might feel more comfortable.”

Vince thinks about slapping Howard’s hand away. He is starting to feel frustrated with the waiting. Instead though he takes the offered trousers and places them next to him on the couch.

“Thanks Howard but they’re still wet.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. It was worth it.”

Howard stands awkwardly looking Vince in the eye for a second or two before turning away. “I could make us some more food.”

“Not hungry.”

“A drink then. I could go get us another bottle.”

“I’m fine Howard.”

Howard points to the metal tub. “Might see about getting this shifted though. Bit of a nuisance isn’t it really.”

“It can wait.”

“Still, it would be easier to move around without it here wouldn’t it.”

“Howard.”

“We’re going to have to empty a bit out first though. It’s way too heavy to lift as it is.”

“Howard.”

“Shame I haven’t got any flowers or anything to tip it out on. Seems a bit of a waste to just ditch it onto the dirt.”

“Howard!”

Howard finally looks back at Vince. “I’m sorry little man.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve dragged you into this mess.”

“It’s not a mess from where I’m sitting.”

“What? Of course it is. Murder and prostitution and secrets.”

“Well it’s a bit of a mess then, but that’s not what I’m interested in right now.”

“I want to tell you, really I do.”

“Then do.”

“But you might…”

“I won’t.”

“But you might.”

“Oh for god’s sake Howard…”

Vince stands abruptly, the throw falling away from his body. He points at the Sheriff,

“…just tell me already.”

Howard is momentarily stunned by the sight of a fractionally angry, slim, pale, naked man shaking a finger at him. Stunned that is until the force of Vince’s beauty jolts him back awake. In one stride he is again in front of Vince, hands clasped to either side of the young man’s face, kissing him with a new found vigour.

It’s Vince’s turn to be stunned, but he kisses back just as eagerly, allowing Howard to suck every ounce of anger out of his body. As the last drop of it leaves him he pulls backwards.

“Please Howard.”

Howard opens his eyes, his lips still pursed. He relaxes them. “Do you still want to sleep with me tonight?”

“Yes.”

There’s no hesitation.

Howard takes a breath. “About two years ago I…” Howard stops and cocks his head.

“You what..?”

“Can you hear that Vince?”

“What did you do Howard?”

“Ssshhhhh!”

“What?”

“That!”

Howard spins suddenly away from Vince and moves quickly toward the door, successfully navigating the metal tub as he does so. “Shhh” he hisses again and he puts his ear up against it.

Vince grabs his still damp pants and tugs them on as quickly as he can. He can hear it now too, voices, and quite a few of them by the sounds of it.

“Quick, chuck me my shirt will you.”

Vince does so in one graceful movement at the same time collecting up his own. He puts his arms through the holes before remembering it is now button-less. “Shit” he mumbles before whipping it back off and running out toward the bedroom area.

Howard finishes buttoning his and steps across to the window. Looking out he can’t see anything clearly, the sun having already set an hour before, but he can definitely hear the sound of voices approaching.

“Vince, what are you doing?”

“Trying to find a shirt.”

“Hurry up.”

“Alright, it’s your fault I’ve not got one isn’t it.”

The voices are nearer now and Howard can make out the odd word.

“..obvious…”

“..I don’t think…”

“..no-one else…”

Nearer and nearer. He risks a look through the window again and can make out a small mass of bodies in the gloom. They are making their way purposefully towards the office. Howard ducks out of sight but as quick as a flash there’s a pounding on the wood.

“Moon, open this door!”

Howard pauses briefly before replying.

“What do you want Bainbridge?”

As Howard responds Vince re-enters the room, fully dressed in clean trousers, shirt and a new poncho. His deputy’s badge is pinned to his breast. He mouths a “what’s happening?” to the Sheriff but gets a shrug as an answer.

“Moon, open this door now or by golly I’ll break the fucker down.”

“Now why the hell would I want to talk to you Bainbridge?”

“Howard, it’s Monty. I’m sorry, but we do need to talk to you.”

“Monty?”

“There’s a few of us here Howard. Can you come out for a bit and chat with us please.”

Howard pauses, not sure how to answer his friend. He looks at Vince who simply nods at him.

“Okay, I’ll come out, but cool your engines Bainbridge.”

Howard tucks his shirt into the waistband of his trousers and fastens his gun belt around his hips, checking as he does so that there’s bullets in his firearm. He pulls on his boots and straightens his badge before turning to the door.

“Howard, should I come too?”

“Not for the moment. Let me find out what’s going on first.”

Vince nervously bites at his bottom lip.

“Be careful alright.”

“It’s fine. Monty’s out there, and I think I saw Chalky and Doctor Bamshoot too.”

“Alright, but I’m just here yeah.”

“I know, you’re not going anywhere!”

The two men share a smile before Howard ducks out of the room. Vince goes to the door and puts his ear up against it in order to hear what’s going on.

Howard squints at each member of the group in turn and nods a hello at all of them before finally giving Dixon Bainbridge his full attention.

“Now then, what seems to be the trouble?”

Bainbridge growls in response.

“Where’s that stable boy of yours Sheriff?”

On the other side of the door Vince frowns at the obvious reference to himself.

“If you mean Deputy Noir well then he’s inside. Why?”

“Because he killed Lance Parrot.”

Vince does more than just frown at that. He feels his knees buckle slightly.

Howard too feels like he’s just received a blow to the stomach. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Well who else could it have been Moon? You tell me the kid turns up in town penniless and without work. He probably killed Lance for money.”

Howard looks at the others. “Monty, surely you don’t believe this crap do you?”

“Of course not, but there are one or two questions people want to ask the lad.”

“Like what for pity’s sake?”

Doctor Bamshoot steps towards Howard.

“Like why he took so long coming back to my house after leaving you at the murder scene this morning.”

“You know why. He was escorting Mrs. Dalston home.”

“But we’ve spoken to her Sheriff and he didn’t stay there that long.”

“And he did go to the cemetery this morning didn’t he.” It was Lucien Hopkin’s turn to speak up.

“Well yes, but that was only to find me.”

“But that was the last place anyone saw Lance alive.”

“And the last known whereabouts of your Deputy before the body was found.”

Howard looks from face to face in utter astonishment. He looks back to Mr. Hopkins.

“But your wife saw us Lucien, in the street this morning.”

“Yes, and she said you were both acting very peculiarly. She said that you were wearing a mantle thing?!”

“Umm, I was. A poncho to be precise, but that’s not the point.”

Bainbridge takes a step towards him, a twinkle in his eye. “But where had you been Sheriff? Why the funny clothes?”

Howard looks warily around the group again and then back at Dixon. “I thought you knew Bainbridge. I had a fall this morning. Quite a bad one actually. Knocked me out for a bit. Luckily Vince found me and helped me back to town. My trousers were, umm, ripped, so he lent me his poncho.”

Bainbridge grins widely. “So you were unconscious were you Sheriff?”

“Yes.”

“Impossible then isn’t it for you to know the activities of your Deputy during this time?”

Howard’s shoulders sag as he realises his mistake. “You can’t actually think that Deputy Noir had anything to do with this?”

He looks again at the group.

“Monty please.”

“It’s not me Howard. I’m here to support you.”

“Chalky?”

“I don’t even know the lad. I haven’t met him yet.”

“Doctor Bamshoot? You met Vince this morning, surely you can’t think him capable of this?”

“He is a stranger in this town and I do think he could help answer a few questions for us.”

Howard’s shoulders slump again but he realises that resistance is useless. Instead he nods a few times. “Okay, I’ll get him. But please mind your manners alright, go easy on him.”

Howard turns to Bainbridge and adds, “And if you so much as touch a hair on his head…”

But Dixon steps around him and storms up to the door. “Back off Sheriff, we just want answers.”

He grabs the handle and charges inside yelling “Oi Pretty Boy!” taking in the scene of the bathtub and the wet floor and the wall hangings in one swoop.

“What the..?”

Howard pushes past him. “Vince, it’s alright, they just want to ask you a few questions. Vince!”

Lucien and Doctor Bamshoot go to move inside too but Monty stops them.

“Let the Sheriff get him. The kid’s probably scared.”

They all shuffle backwards onto the veranda.

Howard and Dixon however just stand in the Sheriff’s office staring at each other.

“Where is he Moon?”

“Don’t give me this bullshit Bainbridge. You know full well he had nothing to do with Lance’s murder. You’re just trying to frame him.”

Bainbridge smiles cruelly. “Well if that’s the case Sheriff then where the hell is he?”

Howard glances around the room again and calls “Vince” one more time already knowing that they’ll be no answer, knowing that in that back bedroom cell is a small window, knowing that only last year he’d finally gotten around to removing the bars that made him feel so claustrophobic, knowing that someone as skinny and agile as Vince would have no problem at all in slipping through it. And to top it all he knows, with absolute certainty, that somewhere in Moonstone his beautiful electro-kid is hiding in fear, selflessly putting himself in danger in order to take the burden of compromise off of Howard.

It is at this precise moment, in the middle of all these accusations and foolish choices, and at the end of a very bruising and tiring day, that Howard Moon suddenly realises he’s in love.

Vince looks up at the moon. It is massive tonight, bigger than he’s seen it in ages.

“Well that’s bloody typical,” he directs at it, “when I could do with some darkness there you are lighting up every nook and cranny.”

Vince flattens himself along the side of a building and edges towards the corner. He peeks out cautiously. At one end of the street he spots three figures and from their guffawing he guesses that they’re recent patrons of The Salty Bullet. He looks up at the Moon again.

“Well you could at least stop looking like you’re laughing at me.”

The Moon doesn’t respond.

“I could be imprisoned for this you know, or worse. That Bainbridge is an evil son of a bitch.”

The Moon remains unresponsive.

“I don’t know what to do. For once I genuinely don’t know what to do. Should I stay or should I go?”

The Moon keeps schtum.

“Fat lot of use you are.”

Vince peers out again. The men are still there but not really looking in his direction.

“If I can get to the other side of the street then at least I can reach the railroad, maybe find an empty boxcar to hide out in for a bit.”

Suddenly, as if on cue, a cloud begins to pass across The Moon. The sky immediately darkens and the town is covered in a gloomy blanket. Vince smiles widely before quickly scuttling across the street and darting into another narrow gap. He drops to a crouch and looks up at the Moon once more.

“Sorry mate, I take it all back. You’ve been great.”

The Moon winks at him.

Vince does a double-take then shakes the idea out of his head. “Must be the stress of the situation,” he thinks before raising himself back to standing and slowly sliding his body along the wall. “Honestly, how the hell did I get myself here?”

He reaches the end of the building and crouches again. Before him is a small path that leads in between a large bunch of lean-tos. Somewhere amongst them he can hear a low snuffling noise and figures it’s likely pigs. He considers for a split second sneaking into the sty but then thinks better of it. He might be on the run but he still has his dignity to uphold.

Vince looks in every possible direction again, listening intently the whole time. When nothing seems to move or make a sound other than the pigs he decides to risk the path. He jogs across to the first hut and presses himself against it. Still nothing. He slowly takes a step, then another, then another, until he has rounded the first hut and is comfortably hidden between the second and third. He stops to take a breather, trying to settle his nerves and steady his heartbeat. Somewhere to the right of him he hears the pigs snort at each other.

The distance to the fourth, fifth and sixth hut isn’t huge, but he is obstructed somewhat by a large woodpile. He also can’t really see around the buildings anymore to check the path. He listens hard again. Still just the pigs.

He moves forward towards the heap of wood and carefully, so as not to make a crunch underfoot, starts to step around it.

He’s nearly half way when suddenly he stops dead, every fibre of his body tense, his head turned slightly upward, and his eyes huge.

“…if we don’t find it Christ only knows what he’ll do to us so just get a move on will ya.”

“I’m going as fast as I can. I didn’t have time to fasten my shoes.”

“Which way?”

“I can’t think, it smells too bad.”

“Smells bad! You’re such a fool. Let’s go this way.”

Unable to stay where he is Vince risks the noise of running around the rest of the wood pile. He notices a gap beneath one of the huts and launches himself into it, slamming his left shoulder into a heavy strut in the process. He manages to suppress an expletive.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“I thought I heard something up ahead.”

“Heard what you imbecile?”

“I dunno, something. They say these sheds are haunted, you know.”

“Who says?”

“Everyone.”

“Why would ghosts want to haunt a few mouldy old huts and some pigs?”

“I dunno Joey. Maybe it’s a ghost pig.”

“Shut up you fool.”

“Or maybe it’s Lance Parrot.”

“I said shut up.”

“Do you believe in ghosts Joey?”

“No, but if you don’t shut up I’ll be trying to turn you into one very soon.”

Vince makes himself as small as possible beneath the shed and watches as two sets of feet pass by his hiding place.

“So, where do we start Bobby?”

“I think it was somewhere by some boxes or a bucket or something.”

“Are you serious?”

“What d’ya mean?”

“Near a box or a bucket. Is this the best you can remember?”

“I dunno Joey. I panicked didn’t I? There was blood on my hands and I panicked.”

“But you didn’t have to chuck the knife away did ya you cretin?”

Beneath the hut Vince’s ears prick up even further. He quietly crawls out from under it, trying to ignore the discomfort in his arm, and at a fast tiptoe pace begins to follow the two men along the path. He is careful to stay out of sight.

“Left or right then?”

“Ummm, right. No left.”

“You sure?”

“Left, I think.”

Vince squats down behind a barrel and contemplates his next move. It’s clearly evident that the two men ahead of him are looking for the knife that he’d found himself only a few hours earlier, the knife which was now hidden down the inside of his left boot. He’d grabbed it just before he’d squeezed out of the cell window. It wasn’t an overly considered action, it was more an instinctual thing. Partly he’d felt the need to arm himself in case Bainbridge caught him running away, but mostly he didn’t want Howard to be found with such evidence. He didn’t want Howard to have to defend him, to make excuses for him. But whatever his motives Vince knew two things for absolute sure, running away made him look guilty as hell and having the knife made him look guilty as hell. He definitely looked guilty as hell. He couldn’t drag Howard into this with him though, couldn’t expect the Sheriff to put everything on the line for him. He briefly considers, as he squats there, whether Howard will even believe his innocence. This thought makes him shudder. It scares him even more than the thought of a death sentence.

As he hears the men move on Vince stands. Pain sears through his shoulder and he’s forced to take some deep breaths before edging around the barrel and following the voices.

Soon Bobby and Joey come to the end of the outhouses and step out onto the wider path that runs alongside the railroad.

“I still don’t understand why you ended up with the knife anyway?”

“Because he gave it to me.”

“What after he, you know, did the deed?”

“Yeah, he just said ‘here’ and strolled off wiping his hands.”

“And you’re still not gonna tell me who he is?”

“I can’t… I mustn’t.”

“But he’s still in town?”

“I think so Joey. I don’t get told everything you know.”

“Pull the other one Bobby, you’re the Mayor’s little pet and you know it.”

“Yeah but… look here!”

“Yeah but look here what?”

“No here. I think this is it. Look, I said boxes and buckets didn’t I.”

“Did you put it in a bucket or a box?”

“No, I dropped it.”

“Why wouldn’t you put it in one you idiot?”

“I said, I panicked.”

“For fucks sake.”

Vince manages to find himself a spot in the shadow of the last outhouse. He risks sneaking a look out and sees a smallish man with long light-coloured hair kicking half-heartedly at the grass. On his hands and knees, frantically patting the ground and turning over boxes, is the second man. Vince pulls his head back in and continues to listen.

“It’s not here Joey, it’s not here, oh my god, it’s not here.”

“Calm down you buffoon. Are you even sure this is the right place?”

“I’m sure, I swear it is. Over there is where, you know, it was done, and then I walked over here, dropped the knife and ducked up along the path between the pig sheds.”

“And you’re positive no-one saw you?”

“There wasn’t anybody about.”

“What about those kids that found Lance?”

“No Joey, that was later. There was nobody around when I was here.”

“Do you think he came back to get the knife?”

“I don’t think he even knew which way I went, let alone that I dropped it. He was long gone.”

“Shit!”

“What are we gonna do?”

“What are you gonna do more like? Ain’t nothing to do with me is it?”

“You gotta help me though Joey. It’s your knife after all, and Bainbridge will kill me if he knows I lost it.”

“But he doesn’t know you lost it yet does he?”

“No, but it’s only a matter of time before he asks what I’ve done with it.”

“Why the hell did you have to use my knife anyway? I lent it to you so you’d help me out with that money. I didn’t think for one moment you’d use it to kill a guy.”

“I didn’t know that either Joey, I promise. Bainbridge told me to get a sharp knife so I did.”

“Does he know it’s mine?”

“No, of course not.”

“Well then I want nothing more to do with this.”

“But Joey please.”

“I’m sorry Bobby, I can’t. You want my advice, tell him you dropped it down a well or something, but don’t bring my name into it you hear. I want no further part.”

Joey turns and walks away from Bobby, luckily for Vince along the railroad and not back towards him.

Bobby Fossil stays perfectly still, facing in the direction Joey’s walking. He’s on his knees, hands clenched together, looking for all the world like he’s praying. Perhaps he is.

Suddenly a light bulb comes on in Vince’s head. It’s not an especially bright one, but still it gives Vince an idea. He quietly lies down on his front and begins to crawl snake-like out from the shadow of the building. It’s awkward with the use of only one arm, and the urge to hurry before he’s seen duels with the necessity to move slowly to lessen the pain. But Bobby Fossil still has his back to him. When he feels that he’s close enough, but not too close, Vince takes the knife from his boot. He then reaches out as far as he can and places the item in a patch of short grass just to the side of the first bucket. He gingerly inches himself backwards.

Bob Fossil isn’t a brave man. He isn’t a clever man. He is a man if you want to be technical, but he didn’t always feel like a man. Tonight is one of those times. If he was a little braver, if he was a little cleverer then maybe, just maybe, he could come up with a great story and convince his boss that the knife was not going to be a problem. But he isn’t either and so as he kneels there, under the light of a particularly bright moon, as the realisation slowly dawns on him that the only kind of man he was ever likely to be was a dead man. The history between him and Bainbridge was probably not going to be enough this time.

Vince slithers back into the shadows, stands up, breathing hard from the exertion, and sneaks a peek around the corner. He can make out the knife glinting in the moonlight and can see Fossil still kneeling on the path. He actually appears to be rocking slightly, and Vince can hear him mumbling to himself. The Deputy frowns. The sight is fairly pitiful really, and given other circumstances he might even allow himself to feel sorry for this man, but Lance Parrot is dead, a murderer is running free, and Vince’s own life is in danger. There really isn’t another option.

Vince retreats quietly back up the path about twenty metres or so before turning back around. He adjusts his bad arm into a comfortable(ish) position before he starts whistling tunefully, walking back towards Fossil and making his footfall deliberately noisy. He wants Fossil to hear him.

And hear him he does. In fact Bobby Fossil very nearly wets himself. He jumps to his feet and turns as Vince rounds the corner and comes into view. Both men stop and stare at each other, Bobby in genuine surprise, Vince using all the acting skills he can muster.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Deputy Vince Noir, and you are?”

“Deputy?”

Vince pulls out the badge that he’s been keeping in his pocket and holds it up for Fossil to see.

“I didn’t know that Sheriff Moon had a new Deputy.”

“Well you do now.”

Vince glances down subtly to double-check where the knife is lying, and then takes a step towards it.

“So then, you haven’t told me your name.”

“Oh yeah, I’m Bob Fossil, but folks call me Bobby. I run the bank.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

Vince holds out his hand but doesn’t move, encouraging Fossil to come closer in order to shake it. The bank manager does just that.

“So you do know there was a murder here earlier today don’t you?”

“I did hear that Deputy.”

“And you don’t think that it’s maybe a little dangerous for you to be walking around in these parts.”

“It probably is yes. I was on my way home though.”

“Okay, good.”

Vince stares at Fossil in an attempt to make him feel uncomfortable under his glare. His shoulder is really throbbing now but he resists the urge to rub it. His stance and steely gaze has the desired effect as Fossil begins shuffling his feet and wringing his hands.

Vince twirls his deputy’s badge between his fingers feigning a sort of impatient deliberation. Fossil shuffles some more.

“Should I be going then Deputy?”

Vince stays quiet still twirling the badge.

“Like you say, it could be dangerous out here. I should probably get going.”

Vince twirls the badge a little harder and lets it drop from his fingers.

“Oops.”

“Here let me get that for you Deputy.”

As Bobby Fossil bends down to retrieve Vince’s badge he catches sight of the knife. Vince knows he’s caught sight of it because he pauses briefly before straightening back up, and his eyes show only fear when they finally meet again with his own.

Fossil passes the badge over to Vince, his hand noticeably shaking.

Vince stares at him a second longer before letting a smile warm his features. He nods.

“Thank you. That’s very decent of you. I’ll be getting back to the jailhouse myself now. I’m sure Sheriff Moon could do with my help in solving this crime. I’ll bid you goodnight.”

Bob Fossil’s voice is a little shaky as it leaves him. “Ye…yes, goodnight Mr. Deputy Sir, and…and nice to meet you too.”

Vince turns away from Fossil, his smile widening as he does so. He walks back to the outhouses knowing that the bank manager is going to pick up that knife as soon as he rounds the corner.

As he finds himself back by the wood pile Vince stops to feel his shoulder. “Crap!” He can feel a bit of a lump and is struggling to move his arm at all. Crawling around on it hasn’t helped. His plan with Bobby just might work if only he can get back to Howard quickly, fix his arm and avoid Bainbridge and company in the process.

And he prays that Howard will believe he’s innocent.