“Church,” Morris spat. “What good is that in the world? Nobody believes in fairy tales any longer!”

“God is no fairy tale,” Jake said with quiet conviction. “And anybody can be forgiven and saved, even at the end of the line.”

Morris burst out laughing. “Hear that, guys? I can be saved at the very end!”

They laughed, too.

Colter was thinking of ways and means of dealing with the three, who were less than sober. “Lieutenant Marquez in San Antonio knows I’m here,” Colter said calmly.

“Well, it won’t do him any good, because you’re about to disappear, just like that meddling old man did. I spent five years in prison on account of his stupid granddaughter and my even stupider baby brother. Somebody’s going to pay for that!”

“Pay for it yourself,” Colter said icily. “It was your crime, not theirs.”

“Stupid little kid, pitching a tantrum when I was just about through the worst scenario I ever played. I was winning, and he had to start screaming. I told him to shut up—I even shook him, but he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop! Anybody would have hit him!”

“With a steel shovel,” Colter recalled.

Morris looked briefly disconcerted from the way Colter was looking at him. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. Jon, Harry, find a good place to plant these two somewhere nearby. Get out those shovels we bought, too.”

“Sure thing,” one of the men returned. They both left.

Morris still had the gun on Colter and Jake. “Any famous last words? Something tender for my idiot sister, maybe? I hear you’re sweet on her.”

“I am.”

“Pity it will come to nothing.” Morris glowered at him. “Five years in hell, all because little miss purity couldn’t keep her mouth shut! Everything would have been fine if she hadn’t spilled her guts to that police officer!”

“Clancey didn’t beat up herself or Tad,” Colter said icily.

“Five years of hell,” Morris repeated. “Five long years! You don’t know what it’s like inside!”

“I know,” Colter said, and he smiled.

Morris’s hand clenched on the handgun. His eyes glittered with pure hatred.

“Boss, we dug a grave out here.” One of Morris’s men stuck his head in the door. “We need more than one?”

“Nah,” Morris said. “We’ll just chuck them both in together. No need to waste space. You got it in a concealed place?”

“You bet, in between a couple of trees where there’s bushes. Real sandy place.”

“Fine.” Morris moved back, to make sure he wasn’t jumped, because his two prisoners looked dangerous. “Okay, you two, out back.” He gestured with his head.