Sheriff Cherry kept his arms folded and hat brim low as Levi Asper commandeered his post. He'd expected nothing less when the man had informed him of the newspaper ad the previous day. Cherry had done his part but only to the most minimal extent. He hadn't wired anyone concerning Herman and he certainly hadn't printed up any posters. Oh, sure, when Asper would take a break from his interviews, he'd ask the odd question. 'What did they say at over at Rough Waters? They goin' keep an eye out for Tate?' and 'Would it kill you to contribute?'

More specifically, the only part Cherry had done was showing up at the appointed hour. This was Asper's circus as far as he was concerned. He'd put the notice in the paper. He was offering the five-hundred dollars. Five-hundred dollars, Cherry noted, Asper had decreed was not available to the lawmen or government officials of Brody's Cross. With that proclamation went any interest the sheriff possessed in selling what he did know.

Would he have said anything had the offer stood? Cherry mused over his mercurial tendencies as he feigned unconsciousness. Five-hundred dollars was a lot of money. He could do plenty with that much cash. On the other hand, Jeff Schim was mighty sore at him and it was Schim who'd been obsessing over the Tate mystery about as long as Asper had been aware of it. Asper didn't know Schim had a state in seeing justice win out. Cherry didn't care much to solve it but his deputy had literally died being a better lawman so, hell, maybe he would have kept quiet for Schim's sake. It gave the specter something to do in his indefinite limbo. Perhaps not so indefinite, if the outlaw who'd hit the train was the same son of a bitch who'd murdered Schim. Cherry wasn't keen on seeing his deputy leave again. He'd promised revenge, though, for Schim, and for his wife, and for the knowledge that once in his life he'd be doing the right thing for the right reasons. Yet doing the right thing always seemed more trouble than it was worth and all this introspection was giving Cherry a headache.

Or maybe the heachache came from the growing recognition that every minute spent with Asper made the sheriff want to sabotage the rancher's attempts to locate Herman Tate.

Esmerelda Dean, the laundress and local gossip, was shuffled from the office with a cheery smile and a polite wave. Asper promised with honey-sweet words that should her report of seeing the Tate by the Johnson silo pan out, she could count herself a wealthy woman. The act lasted as long as the door was kept open. Shutting it firmly, he turned his attention to Cherry. "Mark down that Esmerelda Dean says--"

"I heard."

"And I said, 'mark it down'."

"All right," said Cherry. He remained where he was and the page before him remained blank. There had been two other folks looking to collect so far that morning. Cherry kept no record.

"There has got to be a limit to how inept someone can be and keep this job," observed Asper.

"You're welcome to take it from me if you'd ever stoop that low," said Cherry. "Sheriff Levi Asper: the man with a target on his back."

"I don't know why you think I'd have a target and you don't."

"Oh," smirked Cherry. "I got one as much as you. The difference is I'm not the sort of man who can offer five-hundred dollars for a missin' neighbor. I might not be the best at what I do, but I know enough to know you want the criminals to be worth more dead."

Asper snorted. "You think the man that kills me would inherit anything from it?"

"No, but he'd know it's available and there's no one to stop him from helpin' himself."

"When was the last time you stopped a criminal?" derided Asper.

"Oh," Cherry scratched his chin. "The day before yesterday?"

"Pray tell," said Asper dryly.

"Nah." Cherry lowered his hat further. "Nothin' to tell. Things got a little rowdy outside town and they're sorted now."

"And here I thought your injuries were from fallin' out of bed. Who would have thought you could be spurred into action on occasion?" The rancher walked to a bureau against the wall and started to rifle through the papers inside. "Is there any system to this?"

"Depends what you want."

Asper considered. "Horses."

Cherry lifted his hat. "You think I'm sellin' horses?"

"You're certainly not doin' much else."

"I'm in the market for a new horse myself. You find someone dealin', let me know." He dropped the brim and folded his hands across his stomach.

Asper crossed to the desk and pounded a fist. Cherry did not flinch. "You need somethin'?"

"Stop screwin' around. If you're not takin' statements, you could be out there askin' around."

Cherry sneered. "About Herman Tate."

"That's right."

"Look, Levi, I don't know what you want with him. I don't care. It should be enough that I ain't kickin' you out of my office."

"I want to have a word with him, Sheriff," said Asper.

"A five-hundred dollar word," said Cherry.

Asper waved him off. "You know as well as I do that the money's a ruse."

"Sure." Truthfully, Cherry had no idea until that moment that Asper didn't intend to pay. He didn't betray his ignorance. He congratulated himself for not being overly tempted. "Pretty words to get folks talkin'."

"Herman Tate's mixed up with a bad crowd," continued Asper. "I'm tryin' to do right by Brody's Cross."

"I try to do right by Brody's Cross every day," said Cherry.

"A man like him ought to be locked up. He shouldn't be allowed to roam free."

Cherry again pushed his hat aside. "What does any of this have to do with a horse?"

Asper set both palms flat and loomed over the sheriff. If Cherry had more self preservation, he might have been intimidated. Instead, he yawned as the rancher said, "I found a horse wandering where it shouldn't be. I intend to locate the rider."

Cherry frowned. "You think this horse belongs to Herman Tate?"

"Idiot," bellowed Asper.

"Yeah, yeah," jeered Cherry. "Because I'm supposed to know what this horse has to do with anythin'."

Asper straightened up. "This horse was wandering out by the church. I know you never head out that way and maybe you forget it exists as part of your jurisdiction. Father Spiegelman and I are workin' together to locate Herman. The preacher is as worried as I am and I think this horse I saw might belong to someone who knows somethin'."

Oh, mused Cherry. Levi Asper is a fucking liar.

"I thought you and Father Spiegelman didn't get along," said Cherry.

"My boys, Amos and Jed, have been helping to renovate the church. We're on better terms than we were in the past."

"Maybe I ought to go out and see how their hard work is payin' off."

Asper's face fell. "You don't care."

"About the church?" said Cherry. "Don't you know I got a soft spot for liturgical architecture?"

"Your time, if you can be compelled to spend it doin' anythin', would be better spent lookin' into this Herman Tate disappearance."

"And the horse."

Asper sighed. "I suppose it's a long shot, but can you think of anyone in Brody's Cross who owned-- er, that is to say, owns a palomino?"

Cherry's face was a mask as he ignored the pange of sorrow. Poor, poor Goldie. "You askin' honestly or...?"

"Yes?"

"You don't know?"

"Sheriff Cherry," scowled the rancher, "Why do you expect me to know who owns every horse?"

"I don't know. You seem to expect me to."

"As I suspected," said Asper. "You knowin' anythin' is a long shot."

"This feller who owned the horse, what're you thinkin' with him? What's your intention?"

"I don't need to share my private affairs, do I?" replied Asper.

"You're makin' your private affair with Herman Tate my business," said Cherry. "You're draggin' me into it." Without admitting much, he held up a finger. "Let me tell you right now, Levi: I don't know where Herman is and I don't rightly care. You understand?"

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"Yes," said Asper. "That much is a given."

Cherry resumed his lounging position. "As long as we understand each other."

Asper examined the lawman with a weary eye before stepping away. "I'm going for a walk."

"Take as long as you like," sang Cherry.

Asper sighed. "I really do feel sorry for her."

"Who?" asked Cherry. "Lacey Tate?"

"The widow Schim," clarified Asper. "I see her every day. She comes up to the manor to straighten and clean. I suppose you know that, with her bein' the only one left in this town who'll give you the time of day."

"Yeah? And?"

"I was just thinkin'," said Asper. "That if you were even half as competent as you should be, her husband might still be alive."

They were biting words. Cherry knew Asper chose them to incite him. No sooner had they left his lips than the rancher was off, leaving the sheriff alone to stew in his hurt and regret. Except Cherry wasn't that sort. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Yeah, okay, tough guy." As unfortunate as Schim's demise had been, he hadn't put a gun to his head and forced him to ride into danger. Hell, he'd insisted the opposite. And where had that gotten him?

Even now, what was the deputy up to? Running off to exact revenge on a man who wouldn't even feel a breeze as he passed him. It was pointless. It wasn't worth the time, or the effort, or the frustration. At some point, if things worked out, Cherry would get the bastard. What worried Cherry more was what would happen when Schim was avenged and no longer bound to this plane. But the two had already exchanged their words on that.

Eventually, Schim would return. He'd recognize the futility and find his way back to the one person who could hold a conversation with him. In the meanwhile, Cherry had his mind made up and no deputy to play moral compass. In trying to upset him, Levi Asper had cinched his fate. Sheriff Ewald Cherry would actively work against him in his quest for Herman Tate. Was it petty? Of course. Cherry, as stated previously, was a petty man. He opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out the keyring within. Oh, he wouldn't do anything too overt, but there was one thing...

"Sheriff Cherry!" exclaimed Rosa as the sheriff elbowed his way into the Tate household. "You can't walk in unannounced!"

"You mind if I take a seat?" Cherry didn't wait for a reply. He moseyed into the parlor and plopped onto the nearest settee. It was tasteful and comfortable. When the time came to help himself to the Tate's belongings, he would definitely keep it in mind. "I had to walk all the way here and I'm pretty beat up. I could use a rest."

"What is Sheriff Cherry doin' here?" asked Martine as she followed Rosa into the room. She addressed the man, "What do you want? Miss Lacey is still quite and Mr. Herman--"

"The sheep seem well," said Cherry. "There must be at least a hundred of them out there."

"Three-hundred and thirty seven," said Martine.

"How's Gordon doin'? He ain't been attacked anymore, has he?"

The women looked at each other. Rosa replied, "Any more what?"

"The sheep," said Cherry. "That's what came at him with rifles, right? Worked him over somethin' good?" He added, "That's what he told me the other week when I asked him about his injuries."

"Oh," said Martine quickly. "Yes, that attack. It might have looked as though the injuries were caused by a rifle, but really--"

"I think," said Cherry, "That Miss Lacey would do well vistin' the seaside for awhile. You know, one of those retreats or sanitariums. Someplace where she can be counted alive but private enough no one can confirm it."

"I don't know what you mean," said Martine.

"Didn't you read the paper? Levi Asper's made an official request. Herman Tate's formally a missin' man."

"What does that have to do with Miss Lacey?" asked Rosa with more than a little anxiety. "Mr. Herman is away because of her! If she leaves--"

"I imagine I'm gonna be asked to go upstairs at some point," said Cherry. "At great risk to my health and wellbeing because I'm the sheriff and no one in this town cares what happens to me. Who knows what I'll find then?"

"Miss Lacey is very contagious!" insisted Rosa. Martine glanced at her and shook her head knowingly.

"All right," said the chef. "Miss Lacey can go away for rest. It might do her some good. What about Mr. Herman?"

Cherry draped his arms over the back of the settee and sank deep in the cushions. "He's the one you ought be more concerned about. He's the true heir to the Tate ranch. If I've figured it right, Levi Asper reckons his nephew will hound Lacey Tate into an unhappy marriage, but that's more of a back-up safety measure. He'd rather have Herman turn the place over."

"You came up with all that?" gaped Martine, disbelieving and awestruck.

"Contrary to what y'all think, I got a brain." He added, "Still."

The irony was lost. Jeff would have appreciated it, Cherry thought.

"If Herman and Lacey are gone, there's nothin' stoppin' Asper from declarin' them dead and layin' claim. I don't think either of 'em was the sort to make up a will, not at their age. Daddy didn't die that long ago and you don't think it'll happen to you, which means this place'd default to Brody's Cross, then the mayor'd leave it to the land office, and Asper's got the money to pluck it up for himself. That's you out of house and home."

"And the poor sheep," sniffled Rosa.

"Right," said Cherry. "I forgot how much you love the sheep around here. Clearly, you keep this up for their sake and not your own." He clapped his hands together. "Lucky for you, Levi Asper's been pissin' me off since dawn and I reckoned I'd piss right back."

Rosa brightened. "Do you know where Mr. Herman is?"

Cherry shook his head. "Not a clue."

The maid sulked, disheartened as quickly as she had been delighted. "How is this gonna help?"

"How is this gonna anger Mr. Asper?" asked Martine, aware of where the sheriff's priorities lay.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," said Cherry, "but since Asper gave Gordon a workin' over--"

"You're wrong," said the woman in unison.

"W-what?"

"Mr. Asper has not threatened us with violence," said Rosa. "He's made it clear that he wants Mr. Herman and this land, but he's never touched Gordon."

"Well, yes. I know. Not him personally," clarified Cherry. "His men."

"No," said Rosa. "It was the other men who are lookin' for Mr. Herman."

Martine lowered her head. "They're awful, Sheriff. They came demanding Mr. Herman and when they couldn't find him, they came back demanding Miss Lacey. Gordon's always been protective of her and he put up a fight. It was no use. They beat him up and they dragged her away. We haven't seen her since."

"Her or Mr. Herman," said Rosa. "But they come by every day, askin'--"

"Askin' if Herman Tate has reappeared," concluded a voice from the foyer. The trio turned to see a large, ugly man with grizzled features, little hair, and a pronounced case of heterochromia. He wore an abundance of leather and his spurs clanked as he moved across the floor. He smiled wide, his mouth a checkerboard of missing and jagged teeth. "Ladies, I thought I asked that our conversations stay between us."

"Sheriff!" gasped Rosa, rounding the settee to put the lawman between her and the new arrival. Martine swiftly followed suit.

"Sheriff?" laughed the grizzled man. "Tsk tsk. Don't be naughty, ladies."

Cherry stared, momentarily stunned by the turn of events. Here he was, the man with two different eyes. Was it the man Schim sought? Did it matter? Had the sheriff tempted fate so thoroughly that it had brought the outlaw to him as if to say, 'he's right here, you've no more excuses'?

"You like my face, Sheriff?" asked the grizzled man after a moment. He kissed the air and howled with amusement. "What is it, lawman? You speechless?"

Without comment, Cherry hopped up, clearing leather and firing his pistol into the outlaw's chest.