Amanda Schim stopped to look twice as she entered Garrapy's. She knew she wouldn't find Cherry; he was at the Asper manor, the result of offending Levi Asper in some way, she imagined. It was unlikely Asper's men had worked him over for the ring he brazenly intended to pilfer. More likely, it was from getting too mouthy with the rancher or the great offense had spawned the outburst over Goldie. Whatever had driven Asper to the beating, he kept the sheriff upstairs and cared for, a decision that frankly baffled the woman. Perhaps he'd gone too far and feared retaliation if it got out he'd killed the sheriff. While there wouldn't have been widespread mourning, the act itself against the title Cherry inexplicably carried had far reaching ramifications. A murdered sheriff brought the marshal and no one wanted a repeat of the last time Marshal De La Cruz came to town.

What caused Amanda a pause was the sight of Lindsey Pieth, feet up and hat tipped, sitting at Cherry's usual space. He made a crude impression of the sheriff. He didn't have the qualities to pull it off. And why did he want to pull it off? Amanda didn't think too much of Pieth. She didn't harbor enough resentment to outright hate him but she didn't like him and didn't mind Cherry's plan to collect on his ignorance. She wouldn't usually say anything, knowing how to stay professional when it came to the Asper household and that a smile got her further than a frown. That being said, this aping the sheriff rubbed her the wrong way considering it was his uncle who'd laid up Cherry. She trekked to the corner table to delicately express her unhappiness. "Is that Lindsey Pieth I see?"

The young man pushed the brim up. He had no idea of Amanda's true feelings and he thought her to be one nice lady who happened to be employed by his grandfather. "Oh! Mrs. Schim! How do I look?"

Amanda put her hands to her hips. "Take your feet off the table. People eat off that."

He did as he was told. "Yes, ma'am."

Pieth was bizarrely attired in black leather. He tended to be more flamboyant in his clothing. Even his usual bolo tie had been switched for a black bandana. "Are you fixin' to rob a bank?"

"No," said Pieth, taking a moment to follow her meaning. "I'm in mournin'!"

"Again?" Then, "Is that why you're posted up like Sheriff Cherry? Because I don't think "mournin'" and "Cherry" go together."

"He always sits like this," said Pieth. "I reckoned if the son of a gun who killed Miss Lacey came this way, I'd--" He straightened. "Oh! I forgot to tell you why I'm doin' this. Folks have been askin' me who I'm mournin' before they ask what I intend to do!"

Amanda started. "Lacey Tate is dead?"

"That's right," declared Pieth. He placed a hand over his heart and draped his other arm across his eyes. "And as her lover, it's my responsibility to get her justice. You see me, don't you, Mrs. Schim? You see how heartbroken and devastated I am?" He made a sweeping gesture to present his outfit. "I look it, don't I?"

Amanda felt a miasma of dark emotions rise. She pushed them down and chastised as evenly as she could, "Don't you dare make light of this, Lindsey Pieth. If Lacey Tate is dead, what you're doin' to her is downright disgustin'."

Pieth didn't agree, or understand, or both. He huffed, "Mrs. Schim, I loved Miss Lacey. She might have loved me back. She said she didn't but maybe she was sayin' it so I'd want her more. I was readin' in this one book about a woman--"

"Don't say you're mournin' her if you don't even care about what she wanted or who she was."

To that, Pieth took offense. "Of course I care about her! Cared." He stood, removing his hat and bowing his head. "Mrs. Schim, you've got me all wrong. It's 'cause I loved Lacey so much that I'm gonna dispatch the man who killed her. There's no one else in the world who cared for her like I did."

"Stop playin' around," said Amanda coolly. "It's not a joke. It's not a way for you to prove you're a man, or that your love was true, or that you deserve more respect for doin' what no one else would."

Pieth returned to his seat and gave her a curious look. "But isn't that what Sheriff Cherry's doin'? Didn't he promise you to get the feller that got your husband?"

The darkness swelled again. "Sheriff Cherry and Mr. Schim had relations. They worked together for years and got along as friends." She amended, "That is, they had respect for..." Once more, "You know how Ewald and Jeff were. Always buttin' heads and settin' the other off, but you knew they cared."

"Sheriff Cherry doesn't care 'bout anythin'," said Pieth.

"...they were there for each other," Amanda suggested. "Through thick and thin."

"With all due respect, ma'am," Pieth replied. "Where was Sheriff Cherry when that outlaw feller killed your husband?"

Amanda Schim bared her teeth, no longer able to hide her disdain. "With all due respect, Mr. Pieth, shut your mouth about that and stop talkin' about my husband as if he were anythin' like you." Pieth shrunk back as the frustrated widow continued. "You are not Lacey Tate's beau. You are deluded if you think she had any more love for you than she did for a spider."

"Mrs. Schim, I--"

"This....thing you're doin', marchin' around and declarin' yourself her avengin' angel?"

"I want to do this," blurted Pieth, turning red. "I want to get revenge. Even if she didn't realize her feelin's for me, I know what I felt for her was love. It's the same as you and Mr. Schim!"

"I want the bastard that killed my husband," conceded Amanda. "I want him to suffer and I want him to feel every bit of the hell he put Jeff through. At the same time, I want him dead and done with. I don't want this to drag out and continue to hurt me and the people who knew my husband."

"Like Sheriff Cherry," said Pieth.

"No," said Amanda. "Sheriff Cherry hasn't been bothered by it." She took the seat across from Pieth and sighed. "I told you, 'mournin'' and 'Cherry' don't go together. He's not bothered."

Pieth frowned. "You're all right with that? Didn't you say they were friends? Or, well, respected each other?"

"I've known Ewald Cherry since I was four and he was six. He's always been like this. I don't expect him to start showin' concern for anyone." She added. "He gave me his word that he'd get the guy. That's what you're supposed to say when your friend's husband and your partner winds up murdered. He promised it and he's adamant he's stickin' to it. That's good enough for me."

Pieth mulled over her words. "How is that a good thing if he doesn't mean anythin' by it?"

"It's hard to explain," said Amanda.

"I think you're makin' exception's for him," said Pieth. He puffed his chest and began a speech. "I truly loved Miss Lacey. She was the light of my world and without her, my world is darkness. I am not gonna sit passively by and let the man who killed her get away. I will--"

"You're sittin' pretty passively here," observed Amanda.

"...I'm waitin' for him to walk in," said Pieth. "Garrapy's is the only saloon in town. He's got to show up sometime."

Amanda frowned. "You imagine that's how it works? You think he's gonna come on by?" She leaned close. "If that were the case, do you think I'd have been waitin' three years for the man who killed Jeff?"

"I know what he looks like," insisted Pieth as though this was an advantage afforded to him alone.

Amanda kept to herself. She also knew what the man who'd done her wrong looked like. Cherry had described him. A man with two different colored eyes. He was firm in his conviction. Amanda believed that he knew what he was talking about even when witnesses to the bank robbery admitted they hadn't seen anyone well enough to make an identification, let alone by the eyes. Cherry, however, insisted he'd heard from a very reliable source. Amanda trusted him. She wondered if he'd ever followed up on that train bandit he'd heard had a similar trait...

"Not too many fellers with eyes like that," boasted Pieth proudly.

The woman turned her head. "What did you say?"

"The man who killed Miss Lacey has eyes in different colors." He pointed to his own for emphasis. "And he can turn into a wolf!" The latter didn't faze Pieth. It should have.

Amanda was focused on the former over the latter. "Who told you that?"

Initially? "Sheriff Cherry."

Amanda hopped up, features burning. "He said that?" Then, "Did he say anythin' about Jeff? Did he tell you it was the same bastard who killed him?"

"He said Miss Lacey wasn't in a ditch," said Pieth. He lowered his voice. "Between you and me, I think he was lyin'."

What was this? Did Cherry tell everyone a heterochromatic man was responsible for their wrongs? Was this another of his cons and Amanda hadn't seen through it? Had he been stringing her along the whole time?

Lindsey Pieth was right: she had made an exception for him.

"That's right," recalled Pieth. "He did mention your husband!"

A miscommunication. Amanda breathed a sigh of relief. She'd almost felt betrayed over a silly misunderstanding!

"Bob says he's delirious on account of his fever," explained Pieth. "He was carryin' on like Mr. Schim was in the room!"

That didn't exonerate or damn the sheriff. There was one solution to this that Amanda could see. She tapped the tabletop with a fingernail. "Take me back to your grandpa's, Lindsey Pieth."

"What?" It was coming on supper time. "I'm waitin' to ambush Miss Lacey's killer!" He lifted the edge of his black duster to show a revolver on each hip. "See?

"You can play vigilante later," said Amanda. "You're givin' me a ride now."

Asper had gathered with his immediate kith and kin and was shut away in the dining room for the nightly meal. Amanda let herself in the front door and stalked up the staircase as Pieth trailed further behind after greeting one of the other manor employees. Linus McAffey sat watch in a wooden chair from the hallway, the door cracked enough to let him observe.

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"Mrs. Schim," he said as Amanda closed the distance." I thought you went home for the day. Did you forget somethin'"

"Yeah," she said, stepping past and shoving the door aside. "To give someone a piece of my mind."

"Hang on, you can't go in there," Linus argued. Amanda ignored him.

Cherry cracked an eye at the sound of her footstops. "Amanda?" he inquired, groggy. Schim, leaning against the far wall with his arms folded, raised an eyebrow at his wife.

"You're a piece of work," said Amanda.

Cherry looked to this deputy then back to her. "In what way?"

"Did you tell Lindsey Pieth that a man with two different colored eyes murdered Lacey Tate?"

Had he? That seemed vaguely possible. His fever had left him with the latest round of sleep. As he tried to remember, Schim offered, "Yes, you did."

"I did," confirmed Cherry, content to take his word for it and not bother remembering further.

"Lacey Tate isn't dead," said Linus, glancing over his shoulder to watch both Amanda and the hall should Asper hear the exchange. "She's in Texas."

Cherry adopted a pleased shit-eating grin. So the Tate household had used his suggestion after all. Amanda responded by punching him in the mouth. "Ow!"

"You're an asshole," she declared.

"I already know that," he snapped back. He didn't taste blood. She hadn't hit him as hard as he thought. "What did I do this time?"

"Why did you tell Lindsey Pieth a man with two different colored eyes murdered Lacey Tate?" And then, "Why did you tell me a man with two different colored eyes murdered Jeff?"

"Because he did," said Cherry.

"Accordin' to who?" said Amanda.

"Accordin' to..." Who had he attributed it to at the time? He didn't say her the ghost of her husband had told him. "Hell, I don't remember, Amanda. It was years ago."

She swatted him again. "And who told you Jeff was drowned? Who told you he was tortured and suffered?" Another blow. "Did anyone tell you that or did you just say it?"

Cherry caught her by the wrist before she could hit him again. Schim gave him a disapproving look. "Don't hurt her."

"Amanda," said the sheriff bluntly. "I didn't invent it."

"We've never found Jeff," said the woman. "You told me he drowned, but then you also told me a man with two different eyes did it, same as you told Lindsey Pieth."

"I don't rightly remember what all I told Lindsey Pieth," said Cherry.

"You told him the same man who put you in that bed killed Lacey Tate," said Schim. He ruminated, then barked, "Wait, if you don't remember that, do you remember what I said about the preacher?"

Cherry insisted, "I got it on good authority that the man who murdered your husband was a man with eyes like that."

"He's goin' around murderin' everyone, is he?" scoffed Amanda. Cherry released his hold.

"Did I really tell Lindsey Pieth that Lacey Tate's dead?" He rubbed his temple. "Christ, I hope he wasn't listenin' too closely."

"If you've forgotten that," said Schim. "Then you've forgotten that the preacher escaped. I told you keepin' a demon in town was a stupid fuckin' idea."

Cherry glared at Schim as Amanda carried on. "That's what you told him. What is it, Ewald? Did the same man come back to Brody's Cross and kill again or did you make the whole thing up?"

"Uh," Cherry's glare melted into a confused and silent plea for information.

Schim dropped his ire temporarily and threw his hands up. "What? Is it the same man? I don't know. I didn't see him."

"I don't... know," said Cherry. "It's possible. Then again, maybe it's--"

"Son of bitch," muttered Amanda and she slapped him in the ear.

"Quit hittin' me!" Cherry yelped. "I'm beat up as it is."

"Yeah, for messin' with Levi Asper."

"No," glowered Cherry. "For shootin' the bastard with two different eyes."

Oh, this was getting good. Amanda put her hands on her waist. "Uh huh? Yeah?"

"I did it for you," insisted Cherry. "And Jeff!"

"If you shot him, where did he go?" demanded the woman.

Cherry's senses had returned and with them, the knowledge that telling folks he'd been attacked by a wolfman wasn't going to keep him out of an institution. Never mind if he was believed, the follow-up would undoubtedly be an inquiry as to how he intended to remedy this situation as town sheriff. Cherry had been attacked by two monsters in less than a week. He had no interest in making monster wrangling a habit and certainly not in making it a job requirement. "I guess I didn't get him that good. He got away."

"You said he turned out to be a wolfman," said Schim. "Which is why I said he has to be the one who killed Lacey Tate."

"You put the idea in my head?" blurted Cherry. He had wondered where he'd made the connection.

"It adds up," explained Schim. "I thought we were dealin' with a real wicked feller, but if we're dealin' with wolfmen, I could see a run-in leavin' her lookin' like that."

And how exactly does she look? mused the sheriff.

"I put the idea in your head? To do what? Let him go?" She stepped forward, whispering harshly, "I said I was fine with however you wanted to kill him!"

"I shot him six times," said Cherry. "I tried to kill him."

Amanda stepped away, shaking her head. "I don't know what to think anymore, Ewald."

"I don't see what I did wrong."

She frowned. "You don't see why I might be feelin' hurt to hear you're tellin' Lindsey Pieth the same story you told me?"

"Well, I'm sorry if it's the same story," dismissed Cherry with a roll of his eyes. "I can't change how things are. You gotta take my word or don't. It don't much matter either way."

Amanda let out a frustrated sound and made for the door. "Whatever, Ewald. I don't care."

"Ain't that my line?" He teased. She didn't laugh.

"Why are you settin' off my wife?" grumbled Schim, shooting a dark look and following behind as Amanda made her exit.

Linus waited until Mrs. Schim had departed to whistle an awkward, "Whoo. That didn't go well."

"I don't know what's got her riled up," said Cherry. Then, "Sounds like I've been jawin' a lot."

"You said some crazy things earlier, I hear," confirmed Linus. "One hell of a delirium."

"One hell of a delirium," confirmed Cherry. "I wouldn't give anythin' I might have said much credit." Especially not if he implicated the crimes he was trying hard to avoid.

Linus scratched his chin. "You're lookin' better than you were this mornin'. How are you feelin'?"

"Strangely fine," said Cherry, lifting the blanket to examine his recent bandages. "There must be somethin' to these fancy beds and mattresses."

"You're one tough hombre. Anyone else would be laid up for weeks. Look at you, one day later."

"Guess I wasn't as bad off as I seemed," said Cherry and didn't give the matter further consideration.