The Accomplice (12 page)

“My place isn’t on the gambling circuit. If I was, I’d be in a lot better shape than I am right now. Take a look around,” Caleb said while holding up his hands to indicate the plush surroundings of the Alhambra. “This is the type of place that’s on the circuit.”

“I play enough cards in the Flush to know that some big names come through there every now and then. There have been a few games I seen with more money in one pot than I’ll ever see in a lifetime of sifting through dirt.”

“Those are the exceptions. Not the rule.”

“Well, even if you get one big game a year, I think a share of it would do wonders for me and my kin.”

Caleb gritted his teeth and took another sip of beer. Even though he knew he was being gouged, he also knew that the miner wasn’t completely misinformed. Orville was about to get his lifeblood drained out of him by Virgil Ellis. And, being a businessman himself, Caleb couldn’t exactly fault the old man for grabbing onto an opportunity when it presented itself. The man did, after all, play a big part of getting Caleb out of that damned cell.

Then again, the more he thought about the miner’s deal, the better that cell seemed.

“Tell you what,” Caleb said. “You did go a long way in helping to clear my name. And though I had no part of you getting cheated, I did hear something mentioned along those lines taking place in my saloon. So how about I pay you a reward for damages done?”

Despite the wariness in Caleb’s voice, his words did seem to have an impact upon the old miner.

Before Orville could confer with his nephews, Caleb added, “How about something to the tune of . . . a hundred dollars?”

It didn’t take a skilled poker player to notice the hungry flinch in the corner of Orville’s eye. There was a bit of a tremor in the miner’s voice when he said, “I don’t know. I mean . . . the deal was for—”

“All right,” Caleb interrupted. Letting out a defeated sigh, he dug his fingers through his roughly cut hair and brought himself a little closer to the real amount he was willing to pay to get this miner and his family out of his sight. “How about three hundred? And that’s going to set me back for quite a while.”

“Three hundred?”

“I can’t make it much more than that, Orville. I’ve got to eat, too, you know.”

Now that he had something else to think about, Orville didn’t bother looking over to either of his nephews. On either side of him, Kyle and Jim fretted and let out dissatisfied grunts like a couple of kids who weren’t getting enough attention.

Caleb’s fingers worked their way over the top of his scalp as he watched every move Orville made. He could feel the old man coming around to his way of thinking and with every second that passed, Caleb felt the ache in his temples start to recede. The Busted Flush wasn’t much, but it was all he had. He’d built the place from the ground up and seen it flourish, and in a town like Dallas, that was no small accomplishment.

“It’s a good deal,” Caleb said. “Taking any more than that, I’d be better off sitting in that cell. At least that way I’d have a roof over my head.”

When Caleb saw the contemplative look on the miner’s face, he actually felt some hope take root inside of him. The fact that Orville was considering what he heard and seeing the sense in Caleb’s words spoke volumes. It showed that folks might not be as greedy as Caleb had assumed. Perhaps a man could listen to something else besides his own love of money.

“Fork over what we asked for,” Kyle grunted, completely shattering what little goodwill might have been festering inside Caleb’s heart. “You’re just trying to sweet-talk us, and we ain’t gonna listen no more.”

Orville looked over to the fat man. “Kyle, maybe we should—”

“No!” Jim spat. “Kyle’s right. This here is our show, and we make the decisions. Ain’t no way this cheatin’ bartender is gonna run things. He needs to listen to us, and that’s all there is to it.”

Caleb didn’t need to study the old man any longer. He could already see the battle was lost.

“You hear that, Injun?” Kyle asked with the smuggest of grins on his face. “It ain’t your place to name the price. It’s your place to pay up or face the law. My bet is that if Ben Mays and the rangers don’t string you up for running a crooked place like that shit hole of yours, the town law will. What do you think of that?”

At that moment, Caleb’s first impulse was to slam both Kyle and Jim face-first into the table. Although Orville wasn’t high on Caleb’s list, the fact that the miner was willing to roll over and not do anything to stop his two asshole nephews from spouting off said plenty about the old man.

Just as Caleb was about to give in and let his fists do what they were aching to do, he looked around and spotted another familiar face. Standing at the end of the bar closest to the front door, taking casual interest in the conversation at Caleb’s table, was one of the local deputies.

The town law might not have had as wide a jurisdiction as the Texas Rangers, but they could make Caleb’s life just as miserable. Now, it made a little more sense why Kyle was trying so desperately to push Caleb over the edge.

“You want me to throw a punch right here in front of that deputy?” Caleb asked. “Then you’re shit out of luck. You want a piece of my saloon? You’ll have to come and get it. You want the reward I offered? Say yes right now, and we can be done.”

Caleb waited for a few moments before standing up. He took his beer and finished it in one long swig. When he put the glass down without hearing another word from any of the three men, Caleb took some money from his pocket and tossed it onto the table.

“That’s for the beers,” Caleb said. “If you want one more cent out of me, you can kiss my ass.”

Caleb turned and nearly walked straight into the blonde waitress, who’d been approaching the table with another round of drinks.

“Anything else they drink doesn’t go on my tab,” Caleb announced. “They can pay for their own damn beers.”

Sarah nodded and smiled. “I hear you.”

There was a spark in Sarah’s eyes as she looked Caleb up and down. Judging by the smirk on her face, she’d heard most or all of Caleb’s final words to the other three.

Orville was shaking his head and muttering something to himself while his nephews were practically steaming as they got to their feet.

“So what’s it gonna be, fat man?” Caleb snarled. “You want to take a shot at me or just stand there looking stupid?”

Kyle managed to hold Caleb’s stare for a full second before blinking and looking away. Jim didn’t even make it half that long.

Caleb felt good when he turned his back to those men. He felt so good, in fact, that he put one hand on Sarah’s waist and pulled her in for a quick kiss on the lips. She was too stunned to say a word, but the smile on her face had doubled in size.

From there, Caleb left the Alhambra and headed back to his party.

It had been almost two full days since the last time Caleb had caught sight of Orville Deagle or either of the miner’s nephews. Granted, Caleb wasn’t exactly turning over every stone to find those three, but he hadn’t expected his exit from the Alhambra to work out quite so well.

In the time that had passed, Caleb had been enjoying the quiet and taking care of the Busted Flush. There was a poker tournament scheduled for the following month and plenty of details went along with it. There was liquor to buy, gamblers to invite, entertainment to arrange, and supplies to purchase. The main drawback that quickly sprouted up, however, was the lack of money to do any of those things.

Caleb sat in his office, poring through countless ledgers and sifting through so many papers that they all slowly began to turn his brain into mush. When he closed his eyes, Caleb heard the familiar sounds of folks talking and laughing, but all of that seemed to be too far away for him to consider. It was something like looking up at the stars and knowing better than to try and reach up to touch one of them.

Rather than stare at the same spot on his desk or gaze longingly at the door, Caleb shifted in his seat to get a look at a section of wall he hadn’t recently committed to memory. What he found there wasn’t anything new, but the simple wooden frame had been there for so long that it might as well have melted into the shoddy wood paneling.

Caleb didn’t have to stretch too far to reach out and brush off a few layers of dust that had settled upon the frame, which hung from a rusty nail. The first thing his fingers uncovered was a slightly faded image of his own smiling face. When he saw that, Caleb couldn’t help but smile once again.

Getting up, he started looking for a cloth of any sort that he could use to clean off the rest of the picture. Since he couldn’t find anything suited to that purpose, he took the picture off the wall and pulled the bottom of his shirt out from behind his belt to swipe away the thick layers of dust and cobwebs.

When he was finished, Caleb looked down proudly at the photograph that had been taken what felt like a lifetime ago. The picture was of Caleb, Hank, and Sarah standing in front of the Busted Flush. Strung across the front of the saloon was a colorful banner that read, Grand Opening.

Hank had been a modest investor as well as the first bartender to work at the Flush. Serving drinks at the new saloon had been Sarah’s first job. All three of them were smiling proudly, but Caleb’s grin eclipsed them all. Looking at that picture now, Caleb shook his head at how young and eager he looked with that dopey smile plastered across the front of his head.

Normally, Caleb didn’t care to sit for photographers. But on the day that picture had been taken, Caleb would have stood for hours if it meant preserving that proud moment forever.

Hank still worked the bar and was working the kinks out of his brewing skills. Sarah was the best server Caleb could have asked for as well as a decent cook. Ever since she left to work at the Alhambra, things just weren’t the same.

Even after he hung the framed photograph back upon its nail, Caleb found himself staring at those faces and smiling right back at them. That smile faded more than a little the moment he shifted his eyes from the past to take in the cluttered office and stack of paperwork that represented his present.

Hank’s steps weren’t loud, but the bartender’s feet sent a familiar series of creaks through the floor, which told Caleb to expect the door to open in about a second or two. A second and a half later, there was a quick knock before the door was pushed open.

“You still in here?” Hank asked.

Caleb dropped back down into his chair and said, “Looks like it.”

“Well, I thought I’d let you know that one of them Deagles came and went just now.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t recall their names.”

“The fat one, the old one, or the humpback?”

Chuckling a bit, Hank replied, “I guess it was the third, but I can’t say as I spotted a hump. He was here with Sheriff Hopper.”

“What?”

“Sheriff Hopper was with him.”

Caleb felt his heart jump a little toward the back of his throat. “What did the sheriff want?”

Hank shrugged and looked around at the clutter which practically filled the office. “Hell if I know. By the looks of it, he sure as hell didn’t want to be with that Deagle kid.”

Thinking it over for a moment, Caleb let out the breath he’d been holding and asked, “They’re not still here, are they?”

“Nope. The sheriff paid his respects and took off.”

“Good.”

“The Deagle kid left a little bit later.”

“Even better.”

“Why don’t you come join the rest of us, Caleb? There’s plenty that needs done out front, and it’d be good for you to get out of this closet for a while.”

Caleb got to his feet but didn’t make a move toward the door. Instead, he found himself drawn back to where the picture was hanging. Standing in that same spot again, he crossed his arms and stared at the photograph. “You remember when this was taken?”

Grudgingly, Hank stepped farther into the office. Not only did he take exception to the mess in there, but his wide shoulders and barrel chest made it difficult for the barkeep to maneuver without knocking into something or other with every step. He didn’t quite make it to Caleb’s side, but he got close enough to get a look at what was hanging on the wall.

“Sure, I remember that,” Hank said. “Nobody could’ve wiped that grin off your face. Hell of a day.”

“Yeah. It was.”

“You don’t sound too convinced.”

Glancing over to the barkeep like a man that had been caught, Caleb turned his back to the picture and trudged back to drop into his chair. “Guess I was wondering what the hell I was thinking back then.”

Hank’s head snapped back, and he blinked as if flash powder had just been ignited. “What’s that supposed to mean? You were thinking that you just opened your own saloon and hoping you’d still be in business farther down the road. You did just that, Caleb. Here you are. Here we all are.” Glancing at the picture, Hank shrugged and added, “Well, most of us anyway.”

“Sarah’s still working at the Alhambra,” Caleb said in response to Hank’s unspoken question. “My guess is that she’s helping balance the books a whole lot more than she serves drinks.”

“She always did have a knack for numbers. Couldn’t take being cooped up for very long, though.”

“Maybe I’ve got that same problem.”

“Is that what all this moping is all about?”

Hank didn’t need to be told that he’d struck a nerve. He could see that much written on Caleb’s face. Reaching out, he patted Caleb’s shoulder just roughly enough to make the chair squeak beneath him. “I don’t know how you spend so much time in this damn office without losing your mind as it is. If it’s getting to you, then why don’t you work up front for a bit.”

“I don’t think I’d be much of a replacement for Holly.”

“Not unless you sprout red hair and learn how to properly fill out a corset,” Hank said.