"I thought it was you," he said. "Nobody else could have made as good time. You're a good guesser, too. Well—unbuckle your belt with your left hand and let it drop. Keep your right hand up. That's it. Now step away from it."
Having no option Angus obeyed, cursing himself internally for being fooled by the old trick of doubling back. Gavin lowered his gun.
"You can take 'em down," he said. "Now what's the next play?"
"That's up to you," Angus told him.
"Does look like it," the big man admitted. "But you know damned well I can't shoot you in cold blood. If I roped you up here and left you, you might not be found. I can't take you with me. So it's partly up to you. This is hell's own rotten mess from start to finish. I knew it would be, from the time Jerry lost his head and plugged Braden. I suppose he's dead?"
"Yes."
"And Jerry and Larry, too?"
"I think so. I didn't wait to make sure."
"Sure to be," Gavin said calmly. "Jerry came ahead on his face and Larry wilted in a bunch. They got it, all right. I had a fool's luck. Any of your bunch get it hard?"
"I don't think so. We were lucky."