“You set me up for most of them.”
“Only because my mind doesn’t work the way yours does.”
“How fortunate for me and my desire to corrupt you.”
He snorts, turning with me as we move out of the street. “That what you’re doing?”
“God willing.”
“Saddist.”
“Masochist.”
I look in time to see Dolly stick her head out the door with an expectant expression. “Show’s over, I’m afraid.”
Frowning, she glances up and down the street. “Where’s the body?”
“Running for the hills.”
“Sounds right.” She gives a whistle that causes every window in the front of the building to close at once. Noticing the sound, Aiden looks up, then at me.
“What?” I say. “While I have no doubt in your abilities, there’s nothing wrong with having an ace up your sleeve. Just in case.”
“Cheat,” he mutters, shaking his head again, but he’s fighting a smile when the reporter makes his second approach in under five minutes.
“I think I’ll start walking back to town,” he says, already scribbling away in his notepad. “Want to get this into the Sunday edition.” He glances once more at Aiden, holding out his hand. “Been an honor.”
Aiden blows out a breath, then takes it. “Sure.” He waits until the man is out of earshot before adding, “Least he didn’t take any pictures.”
“I could run after him and give him one of the cutouts from the wanted posters I saved?” I offer, helpfully. “The sketch isn’t bad. They really captured your roguish cowboy-turned-outlaw charm. Would pair wonderfully with the article.”
He gives me a hardened stare. “Don’t you dare.”
“It’s no trouble. I have extras. Plenty to go around.”
“Cypress, I swear to—”
The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts what I’m sure would’ve been a tantalizing threat, both Aiden and I finding Arty still lingering on the other side of the road.
“What’s that one’s name again?” Aiden asks, and now it’s my turn to shake my head.
“How can you not know? You worked with him. Forweeks. For nearly as long as it took you to fall in love with me.”
“Didn’t take me that long,” Aiden mutters, starting to cross the road with me. “What’s the point in getting names? Not everyone feels possessed to talk to every person who crosses their path. Remembered yours, didn’t I? And Dolly’s? I remember the ones I like.”
“Along with Maddock?”
“Right, the people I like. And the people who would like to kill me. The important ones.”
I laugh, unable to debate the efficiency before we come to a stop in front of Arty.
“I’m sorry,” the young man says again. “I’m sorry about Soldana. I was—”
“Scared,” I answer for him, and he nods.
“Yeah.” He takes a nervous step away from Aiden. “Still am a bit.”
Aiden sighs something unintelligible before giving Arty a look that likely doesn’t help. “You the only one left of Maddock’s crew?”