He walked over to Brody, and the giant whipped off his black hat in a sign of respect and deference. Roxy also removed her red Stetson and eased a few steps away from her partner. She did not want to be the center of Tucker’s attention. Smart.

   And neither did Brody, judging from the way the giant shifted on his feet, making his leather boots creak and the attached spurs jangle out a sharp warning.

   “I heard that Blanco pistol-whipped you with your own gun during the high-noon show yesterday. Is that true?” Tucker’s voice was steady, without a trace of malice, but his eyes were like two black holes in his face, completely devoid of emotion.

   Brody swallowed and nodded. “Yes, sir, I’m afraid that it is—”

   Before he could finish, Tucker reached down, snatched Brody’s revolver out of his hand, and slammed the weapon right back into the giant’s face.

   Crack.

   The audible sound of the giant’s nose breaking rang out like a gunshot through the staging area.

   Brody yelped and staggered back, blood spewing out of his rapidly swelling nose. For a second, his face flushed red and purple with surprise and rage, and his hand hovered over the second revolver strapped to his waist, as though he were actually thinking about drawing on Tucker.

   But Tucker arched his black eyebrows in a silent challenge, and Brody thought better of things and dropped his hand from his gun. Tucker tossed the first revolver back at the giant, who scrambled to catch it.

   I blinked, wondering if I was hallucinating how fast Tucker was, but, for once, my vision remained clear. Drinking other people’s blood gave most vampires enhanced strength and senses, but it seemed to make Tucker exceptionally speedy. Or perhaps he had some sort of natural vampiric ability that helped with that. Either way, he’d broken Brody’s nose in the blink of an eye. I’d have to find a way to counter Tucker’s speed before I killed him.

   “I don’t pay you to think,” Tucker repeated. “I pay you to follow orders and get me the results that I want. And right now, I want Gin Blanco found and trussed up like a Christmas ham. So get out there, do your damn job, and find her. Or next time, I’ll break a lot more than just your nose.” His dead black eyes focused on Roxy. “On both of you.”

   “Yes, sir!” Roxy and Brody both snapped out the words in unison, but Tucker had already gone back into the saloon, disappearing from sight.

   They waited a few seconds to make sure that he wasn’t coming back, then slowly relaxed. Brody yanked off his black-and-white paisley bandanna and pressed it to his nose, trying to stop the stream of blood dripping down his face. Roxy rubbed her thumb over and over the pearl handle of her revolver, a nervous tic.

   “You heard what he said,” she growled. “Now let’s find that bitch before he comes back and makes good on his promise.”

   Brody gave her a sullen look, but he wiped the last of the blood off his face and helped her search the rest of the staging area. It didn’t take long, and finally they both turned to stare at the stagecoach, since it was the only place they hadn’t yet looked.

   “She’s not here,” Brody said. “I’m telling you that Blanco is long gone.”

   “Well, check the stagecoach anyway,” Roxy snapped back. “I sent giants to all the park and hotel exits right before we met Blanco and the others at the restaurant. They’ve all texted back to say that she didn’t get past them. So she has to be somewhere in the theme park.”

   Brody heaved out a long, loud, suffering sigh, but he followed Roxy over to the stagecoach. She peered in the carriage below me, and a faint creak sounded as she opened the strongbox lid, just to make sure that I hadn’t crammed myself in there.

   “Look up on the roof,” she ordered Brody.

   More creaks sounded, this time from the springs, and the entire coach dipped under the giant’s weight as he took hold of the ladder on the back.

   I silently cursed, but there was nothing I could do. The drug had completely taken over my body, making me feel limp, languid, and slightly disconnected from everything that was happening. Plus, I was wedged in so tightly between the two rows of steamer trunks that I couldn’t even palm a knife to try to take the giant by surprise when he finally spotted me.

   And he would spot me.

   All Brody had to do was look over the first row of trunks, and he’d see me lying here. Then he’d either pound me into oblivion or reach down, toss me off the stagecoach, and let Roxy put a few bullets in me. Either way, I was caught—

   “What are you two doing?” a low voice growled. “And why is everyone running around like chickens with their heads cut off?”

   Brody stopped climbing, although I could just see the top of the giant’s black hat at the rear of the stagecoach. I turned my head and looked back out through the gap in the trunks.

   Ira Morris stood in the staging area, his arms crossed over his chest, and an angry look on his weathered face. I had never been so glad to see the surly dwarf.

   “Well?” he snapped. “What’s going on? You two should be getting ready for the high-noon show, not lollygagging around back here. And what is wrong with Brody’s nose?”

   Roxy flashed Ira a smile. “Actually, we’re going to have to postpone the show until later this afternoon.”

   Ira’s eyes narrowed. “And why is that?”

   “Brody and the giants were chasing after a pickpocket who made off with a woman’s purse,” Roxy said in a smooth voice. “The pickpocket busted up Brody’s nose in the scuffle, and we were hoping to find him before he got out of the park. Isn’t that right, Brody?”

   “Yeah,” the giant said. “That’s right.”

   Ira huffed, then held his hands out wide. “Well, that pickpocket is obviously not back here. So why don’t you get down from there before you break that ladder? It’s too rickety to hold a big fella like you, and I don’t need anything else to fix around here.”