The Accomplice (11 page)

As Caleb turned to put Jim directly between himself and the saloon’s wall, he said, “In fact, this is doing me a bit of good.” He then pushed back off of both legs to smash Jim against the wall. “This might even serve as some advertising to show just how much I care to keep the bad element out of my saloon,” Caleb said as he slammed Jim once more against the wall.

When Caleb let go and stepped forward, he left Jim stuck there like a swatted fly.

“I don’t even care what you two assholes were after anymore,” Caleb said.

Now Kyle was standing directly in front of Caleb wearing a murderous look on his face. Fortunately, he seemed to have forgotten about the gun at his side and instead swung his fist with every ounce of his muscle behind it.

Waiting until the last moment, Caleb ducked and moved to one side. That way, Kyle got a clear shot at Jim, who was still peeling himself off the side of the saloon. Caleb almost felt sorry for the humpback as the fat man’s knuckles buried themselves into the poor bastard’s face.

Jim slid to the ground in an unconscious heap.

“All right, fat man,” Caleb said as his blood still pounded through his veins, “you can either collect your friend and leave, or we can keep dancing.”

Kyle’s eyes flashed, and he started to accept the challenge with his fists. The moment his hand brushed past his holster, his smile took on a whole new level of ferocity; and he began to skin the gun with a clumsy draw. Before he could clear leather, he was stopped by a wavering voice from a few feet away.

“Hold up, Kyle,” Orville said from where he was standing. “There’s not to be any shooting. We agreed on that.”

Neither Kyle nor Caleb would take their eyes off of each other, since doing so would only prompt the other to make a move.

“I know what we agreed,” Kyle said. “But it looks like this asshole wants to keep fighting.”

“Put the gun away,” Orville insisted. “Maybe then I’ll put mine away, too.”

That caused Kyle to swivel and get a look at the old man for himself. Sure enough, Orville was holding a revolver that looked like something of an antique. Still, the weapon seemed to be in working order, which was enough to earn a bit of respect.

“You wanna shoot this one?” Kyle asked. “Go ahead.”

Orville looked scared; there was no denying that. He also looked ready to fire at a moment’s notice. “I’ll shoot the leg of the first man who tries to make this any uglier than it needs to be. That means all three of you.”

By this time, the humpback had cleared the fog in his head just in time to see Orville point the revolver at him.

“Now, are you boys gonna act like we discussed?” Orville asked.

“Yes, sir,” both Kyle and Jim answered in unison.

Turning his eyes and his gun toward Caleb, the old man asked “What about you?”

“I’m not the one who started this,” Caleb replied.

“That’s not what I’m asking. Are you gonna come along and hear us out, or are you gonna start swinging again?”

After a few seconds of deliberation, Caleb shrugged and nodded. “What the hell? I’ll hear what you have to say. But we could have all been talking real civil right now over a drink if these two hadn’t dragged me out here the way they did.”

“Maybe,” Orville said as he tucked his outdated revolver back under his belt and covered it with his jacket. “Maybe not. Let’s just see how it goes.”

“All right, then. How about we head back into my saloon so we can have that drink?”

“No,” Jim snapped. “My uncle’s already been attacked once in there! Lord only knows what you got inside if’n he sticks his face in there.”

“He wasn’t attacked. He didn’t even—” Caleb stopped himself, took a breath, and said. “Fine. We can talk somewhere else. But I’m not stupid enough to follow you three into some alley after getting bushwhacked once already.”

“Where’d you rather go?” Orville asked.

“What about the Alhambra? It’s just one street down.”

Orville and his two nephews started walking down Main Street to where it intersected with Houston. Caleb, on the other hand, remained rooted to his spot. Kyle was the one to stop and wheel around like a bull that was about to charge.

“Come on, then!” the fat man grunted.

“First I want to know what this is about,” Caleb demanded. “I’ve been through too much lately to waste my time with senseless bullshit from the likes of you fellas.”

This time, the nephews glanced over to their uncle before saying another word.

Nodding. Orville said, “It’s about an arrangement that needs to be struck between us. After what I been through and what I done already, I deserve something by way of payment.”

Caleb let out a choppy, humorless laugh. “Look, everyone in the Flush last night got a scare, and from what I saw, you skinned out of there quicker than most.”

“Yeah, but I heard about what them gamblers said. They meant to cheat me out of my money and my claims. Them things is my bread and butter.”

“Well, they didn’t get anything from you they didn’t win fair and square. Two of those men are dead. I’d say that settles things between you fellas.”

“That still doesn’t settle up between us.”

“How so?”

“It’s because of me that you’re not sitting in that jail cell right now.”

That struck a nerve inside Caleb’s chest that had been itching ever since his backside had left that old, smelly horse blanket. “What do you mean?”

“You’re either going to make this right,” Orville said, “or I’ll rethink the story I told to Ben Mays and see to it that you get tossed right back into jail. I can also add a few more things to my story that will more than likely get you strung up.”

Caleb let out a sigh. Even as he started walking down Main Street, he felt like his boots were sinking in quick-sand. “All right,” he grunted. “Let’s have that talk.”

The Alhambra was one of the finest-looking buildings in sight. Unlike many of the other structures, this one hadn’t been slapped together from a kit. A fire that had swept through town the previous autumn had taken out a good number of businesses, including the Alhambra’s previous location. In fact, many gamblers said the place was better than ever now that it was in a prime location on the corner of Main and Houston Streets.

Caleb had only just been feeling the bite of having such a competitor so close to his own establishment. That bite sank in a little deeper when he walked into the Alhambra to spot plenty of faces that had only left the Busted Flush less than twenty minutes ago. Rather than find some other place to have this talk, Caleb ignored the smarmy waves thrown to him by the Alhambra’s barkeep and picked out a table in the corner next to the piano. He sat down with his back to the bar and hoped nobody else had seen him walk in.

“Hello there, Caleb,” said a petite waitress with her shoulder-length blonde hair tied back with a black ribbon. “Did you run out of good bourbon at the Flush?”

“Maybe I just came to sample this beer,” he offered. “You ever think of that, Sarah?”

The blonde stared down at him with an amused smile and said, “You must really be in the mood for our special brew since I hear there’s a party being served in your honor down at—”

“Just get me a beer,” Caleb interrupted. “Please.”

Letting him off the hook with a squeeze on the shoulder, Sarah leaned down to plant a quick kiss on Caleb’s forehead. “Anything you say. What about your friends, here?”

Since he’d been more than happy to be distracted by the brush of Sarah’s hair against his face, Caleb was reluctant to acknowledge the “friends” she’d spotted. Even so, there was no mistaking the pungent odor of the humpback’s breath or the loud creak of Kyle’s chair as it squealed for mercy when the fat man sat down upon it.

“Bring them beers, too, I guess,” Caleb said grudgingly.

Sarah nodded, tossed a flirtatious grin at the other three men, and turned to walk away amid the rustle of her bright red skirts.

“Appreciate the drinks,” Orville said. “That’s right friendly, considering the circumstances.”

Caleb smiled amiably. “Great, then why don’t we just consider us squared up?”

Orville shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”

“All right, then. Let’s get this over with as quickly as we can. How about we start off with how you think you’re responsible for me getting out of jail?”

The old man pulled in a breath and steeled himself. “That’s the God’s honest truth, mister.”

“The name’s Caleb Wayfinder.”

Hearing that caused Kyle to chuckle. Under his breath, he muttered, “Goddamn Injun.”

Seeing the glare on Caleb’s face was enough to cause both Kyle and Jim to start reaching for their guns.

“Why don’t I just call you Caleb?” Orville offered. “Like I was going to say, me and my nephews helped get you out of that jail.”

“How do you figure?”

“Because I showed up at the request of Dr. Holliday to offer my version of what happened when Mike Abel was killed.”

“Were you the only one that showed?”

“We was there, too,” Jim said. “And we talked you up real nice.”

Nobody at the table seemed to have even noticed that the humpback had opened his mouth.

“There were others,” Orville said. “Dr. Holliday saw to it that plenty showed up. Some of them didn’t even know Mike was dead. I think it was the first time a few of them had even stepped foot in your saloon.”

“That’d account for most of Dallas,” Sarah said as she stepped up and set mugs of beer down in front of each man. Like most servers who made a decent living at the job, her timing was impeccable.

Caleb waved off the sarcastic comment, but Sarah wasn’t going anywhere. “I can settle the bill later,” he told her.

“I’m to collect it now. Manager’s orders.”

Twisting in his seat, Caleb spotted the well-dressed manager of the Alhambra who was waving at him from across the room. “What ever happened to professional courtesy?” Caleb asked.

Sarah shrugged.

Even though he knew Sarah and the manager were just needling him, it couldn’t have been a worse time to look for a laugh. Caleb slapped some money into Sarah’s waiting hand and quickly turned his back to her. Only then did the blonde study the table with concern.

“Is everything all right with you boys?” she asked.

Kyle had yet to take his eyes off of her. More specifically, he had yet to take his eyes off the plunging neckline of her dress. “We’re just fine, darlin’. Don’t you worry.”

Dealing with the likes of Kyle and his equally leering cousin was just another part of Sarah’s job. She bent down to whisper in Caleb’s ear, ignoring the way Kyle and Jim’s eyes widened at the extra bit of cleavage she showed them.

“You just let us know if there’s going to be trouble,” she said.

“I think you’ll know the moment anything starts,” Caleb replied. “I haven’t been attracting trouble of the quiet variety lately.” He felt a pat on his shoulder, and then Sarah moved away to check on some other tables.

“Ben Mays came by to ask what went on at your saloon,” Orville said as if Sarah hadn’t even stopped by the table. “He listened to plenty of stories and found plenty of witnesses to tell them. That was enough to clear you of them charges.”

“That’s because I didn’t murder Loco Mike. He was going to kill Doc, so I shot him down.”

“And that’s what I told Ben Mays.”

“But you weren’t even there when that part happened,” Caleb pointed out. Orville shrugged. “Even so, I was the only one in that card game that wasn’t directly involved in the shooting. My testimony held plenty of weight, just like Dr. Holliday said it would. The only thing is that I think I deserve some compensation for what I did.”

“Since you weren’t there when the last shot was fired, for all you know, you were lying to a Texas Ranger,” Caleb pointed out. “Putting that aside, what you told Ben Mays was the truth. However you cut it, you don’t deserve much more than my thanks.”

Pulling in another breath, Orville straightened in his chair and looked over to both his nephews. Seeing that fat man and the humpback somehow gave the miner enough courage to put some grit into his voice. “If that’s how you feel, then I can go over right now and tell Ben Mays the truth.

“I can also tell him about how Dr. Holliday set it up so you were shown in a real good light so you could escape. Then I can tell him how Dr. Holliday and that other one meant to cheat me out of my mining claims. That dentist friend of yours is becoming more known for his drinking and gambling than pulling teeth, so I don’t think Mays will have any trouble believing what I tell him. In fact, I think he was disappointed that he didn’t hear as much the first time around.”

Even though Caleb tried to avoid the law when he could, he knew Ben Mays well enough to know that Orville wasn’t just spitting out idle threats. The Texas Ranger might not have had it out for him, but he would have preferred to have a definite culprit to Mike Abel’s shooting rather than admit to locking up the wrong man. Texas Rangers were known for plenty of things. Admitting they were wrong wasn’t exactly one of them.

“So you’re blackmailing me?” Caleb asked. “I mean, we might as well just put all the cards on the table here.”

“It’s a fair exchange. If I didn’t say what I did, you probably wouldn’t be out of that cell.”

“Probably. But you could be wrong.”

“I could. Care to try your luck?”

Caleb fought back the urge to jump across that table and make the old miner sorry for even starting this conversation. Instead, he lifted his mug and took a sip of the Alhambra’s house brew. To add insult to injury, that beer was at least twice as good as the stuff Hank whipped up to serve at the Busted Flush.

“What kind of compensation are you talking about?” Caleb asked.

“I want twenty percent of the house take on the games you run, including the high-stakes games that come through there when professional gamblers come to town.”