Wanted McBain

by I. J. Parnham

  This ripple of bemusement encouraged the man at the back to push through the line of men and face Nat.

  This man was rangy with piercing blue eyes, a cleft chin and a trim moustache – from the descriptions Nat had obtained, Rodrigo Fernandez.

  With his gaze set on Nat, Luther held out the bag. Fernandez considered the bag and, with it still in Luther’s grip, peered inside. He firmed his jaw as he looked at Nat.

  ‘What do you want to buy?’

  Nat held his hands wide apart and delivered a short bow.

  ‘Your gratitude.’

  Fernandez glanced around the arc of men flanking him, all of whom lined up to peer into the bag. One by one, each man showed his amazement with a variety of whistles and raised eyebrows.

  ‘Then you’re mighty odd people.’ Fernandez ordered the men to holster their guns and then headed back to his crate and sat down. He withdrew a handful of bills from the bag and dropped them on the nearest crate. ‘Where did you get it?’

  ‘Bear Creek’s bank.’

  ‘So, it was you.’ Fernandez riffled through the bills. He nodded and looked up, a smile that Nat took to be ironic emerging. ‘I heard that I had raided the bank.’

  ‘Perhaps the bank reckoned we were so efficient it had to be you.’

  ‘Perhaps, but I heard the raiders claimed to be part of my gang.’ Fernandez pushed the bills to one side and extracted a second handful. ‘And the bank said the raiders stole one thousand dollars. There isn’t that much here.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s just under five hundred, but you can’t trust banks.’

  ‘You can’t.’ Fernandez shuffled the bills into a pile. He sat back and gestured at the money with an open palm. ‘What do you expect me to do with this?’

  ‘I understand you distribute any money that comes to you around your men fairly.’

  ‘I do.’ Fernandez narrowed his eyes. ‘Do you two get a share?’

  Nat and Spenser edged a pace closer to each other and, in unison, smiled.

  ‘I guess that’s the question we’re here to ask.’

  ‘You did well to raid Bear Creek’s bank, and you’ve intrigued me with your method of getting my attention.’ Fernandez favored Nat with a huge smile, but then let it disappear. ‘But I’m not looking for more help. Leave.’

  Fernandez gestured for Luther and the other men to join him and, with studied finality, they sat down and turned their backs on Nat and Spenser.

  ‘We’ll go, but that money is just the start,’ Nat said.

  With a hand cupping his mouth, Fernandez whispered to Luther, who swirled round on his crate to face Nat.

  ‘You heard Fernandez,’ he grunted. ‘You've got his gratitude, but that’ll die if you don’t leave – as will you.’

  ‘I reckon you’re planning to raid the gold shipment that’s heading to Bear Creek next week. I’ve heard that it’ll be worth around ten thousand dollars, and we want in on it.’

  ‘Talk like that is dangerous.’ Luther narrowed his eyes. ‘Go!’

  ‘Even though we have inside information that’ll make that raid flow as smoothly as our raid on Bear Creek’s bank did?’

  ‘We’re not—’

  ‘Luther, get crates for these men,’ Fernandez said, laying a hand on Luther’s arm. ‘I’d like to hear more about this inside information.’

  * * *

  ‘So, who is Nathaniel McBain?’ Deputy Hearst said.

  Sheriff Cassidy Yates sensed that Hearst was looking at him, but he looked straight ahead with his jaw set firm.

  ‘He’s just an outlaw we’ll bring to justice.’

  ‘I know you’ve got plenty of problems, but you have to tell me what I’m facing sometime.’

  Cassidy sighed. For three hours, they’d ridden west from Monotony, and he’d never gone that long without explaining the details of his mission to his deputy, but in this case, he hadn’t trusted himself to speak.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. He coughed to clear the gruffness from his voice. ‘Nathaniel McBain was my deputy for a few months.’

  ‘You’re mighty unhappy because of someone who worked for you for just a few months.’

  Cassidy rode on for another fifty yards and then snorted.

  ‘Nathaniel was my first deputy. So, I guess he was also my first attempt to judge character as a lawman.’

  ‘That doesn’t make it your fault that he went bad.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Cassidy turned in the saddle to face Hearst. ‘He came from an outlaw family and I reckoned I’d persuaded him to make the right choices in life, but he left. He became a bounty hunter and I reckoned he’d be successful, but I never expected him to become a wanted man. Now, nobody can tell me that his failure isn’t my failure.’

  ‘I can understand why you want to bring him in, but Devine could do it. Nobody escapes that lawman.’

  ‘You’re right, but despite Nathaniel’s mistakes, he must have a reason why he’s doing what he’s doing, and I want to hear him explain himself.’

  ‘I can see that, but the last sighting of Nathaniel was in Lincoln. Then he went even further west. That’s way out of our territory, and we’ve got no arrest warrant and we’ve got no right to head into another lawman’s territory and—’

  ‘I know that,’ Cassidy snapped and then lowered his voice. ‘If Devine gets him, he’ll end up dead. I can’t let that happen.’

  Hearst coughed and shuffled in the saddle. ‘I’ve got to ask you – how far will you go to protect Nathaniel in the name of an old friendship?’

  ‘Relax, Hearst. I won’t forget my duty. I just want to know why he went bad.’ Cassidy firmed his jaw. ‘Then I’ll arrest him.’

  Chapter Four

  ‘I am right,’ Spenser said, glancing at a huddle of men standing outside the stable. ‘Everyone is looking at us.’

  Nat considered the men, but they were all either looking into the stable, or chatting amongst themselves.

  ‘Quit worrying,’ he said, with a laugh. ‘Ballard left town an hour ago and we’ve changed our horses and our clothes. So, unless you wrap a kerchief over your mouth and start firing in all directions, nobody will recognize us.’

  Spenser provided a reluctant nod. ‘Yeah, but that doesn’t stop me looking for people who might recognize us.’

  Nat chuckled, but as they rode into Bear Creek at a walking pace, Spenser still peered at every building and at every person they passed.

  At the bank, they dismounted. Nat looked at the boarded window, cocking his head from side to side as he feigned being surprised at seeing the broken window for the first time. Then he shuffled the saddle-bag on to his shoulder and, with Spenser at his side, headed to the door.

  Two bulky guards in red coats paced from the doorway to stand before them. One guard glared at him and held out an imperious hand.

  Nat furrowed his brow, but then saw the direction of the guard’s gaze and unwound his gunbelt. Along with Spenser, he handed the belt to the guard and moved to enter the bank, but the second guard stood before him.

  ‘Open the bag,’ he said.

  ‘I’m pleased to see this bank is secure,’ Nat said, opening the bag.

  ‘Yeah, well there was a . . . some trouble here earlier.’ The guard gulped on seeing the bag’s contents. He beckoned the other guard to join him and, together, they peered into the bag.

  They backed away two paces from Nat and murmured to each other. Then the first guard held a hand to the side, encouraging him to enter.

  ‘This way, sir,’ he said, his voice light and a smile appearing. ‘I’ll take you straight to Mr. Gillespie.’

  Nat and Spenser exchanged a smile and then followed the guard inside. Nat strode across the bank with his back straight and his chin aloft.

  Even so, he avoided looking at the teller, the most likely person in the bank to recognize them, but if the teller even noticed them enter the side room, Nat wasn’t aware of it.

  Isaac Gillespie, the senior clerk, was sitting behind a desk. He grunted hi
s disinterest in letting anyone disturb him, but the guard hurried to his side and whispered in his ear.

  In a moment, a huge smile appeared and Isaac strode out from his desk, his hand outstretched. He clasped Nat’s hand in a clammy grip and then moved on to Spenser, almost shaking both men’s arms out of their sockets.

  ‘What can I do for you two gentleman?’ he said, eyeing the saddle-bag.

  ‘We’re here to do something for you,’ Nat said.

  ‘Excellent. Would you like a drink, gentleman? Or perhaps you’d prefer a cigar, or maybe I could have—’

  ‘We have everything we need.’ Nat held out the bag to Isaac. ‘You might want this.’

  Isaac gleamed and opened the bag. ‘I’ll get Jim to count this out, but I reckon there’s around . . .’ – Isaac appraised the wads of bills in the bag, mouthing to himself – ‘five hundred dollars here. A deposit for two new customers, I presume?’

  ‘You’re good at your job. That is around five hundred, but the exact amount isn’t important to us.’

  ‘Five hundred dollars and you’re not concerned about . . .’ Isaac dropped the bag on his desk and clasped his hands before him, his eyes wide and shining. ‘You must be wealthy men, indeed, and I must say, you’ve come to the right place. We specialize in providing a service for men of substance.’ Isaac lowered his voice. ‘It isn’t important, but what do you do?’

  ‘We’re bounty hunters.’ Nat watched a momentary frown invade Isaac’s features before the smile returned. ‘We’re after Rodrigo Fernandez.’

  Isaac tipped back his hat. ‘Bring him in and everyone within a thousand miles will be delighted.’

  ‘We intend to, and we want your help with some information on cash shipment dates and details of the gold—’

  Isaac raised a hand. ‘I don’t want to offend my new customers, but nobody will learn that information.’

  ‘Even when they’re as good as we are?’

  ‘Clearly, you are good.’ Isaac patted the bag and withdrew a wad of bills. ‘But not even then.’

  ‘Even when they return your money to you?’ Nat grinned.

  ‘Ours?’ Gillespie intoned, staring at the bills in his hand.

  ‘I’m sorry we didn’t get it all back, but we tracked Fernandez’s gang and ambushed a straggler. He got away, but we reclaimed this.’ Nat glanced at Spenser, who paced forward to stand beside him. Both men smiled. ‘We specialize in providing a service to banks of substance.’

  Isaac patted the wad of bills against an open palm.

  ‘You’ve done that already.’ Isaac rubbed his chin. ‘I’m not sure what reward I can offer. The bounty on Fernandez is for—’

  ‘We’re not interested in a reward for getting a job half done,’ Nat said, raising a hand. He sat on the edge of Isaac’s desk. ‘We’re just interested in the ten thousand dollar reward for bringing in Fernandez. With your help, we can end your problems with him forever. We might even get back the other half of that stolen cash.’

  Isaac slapped the wad of bills into the bag. He considered the bag and then nodded.

  ‘Being as you put it that way, I guess we could help each other.’

  Chapter Five

  ‘Now, why might I be interested in that?’ Sheriff Ballard said, placing his hands on his hips.

  ‘Because he’s a wanted man,’ Cassidy said, waving the Wanted poster at Ballard. ‘Nathaniel McBain was last seen in Lincoln and—’

  ‘I didn’t mean that,’ Ballard shouted, his voice echoing through his office as he slammed a fist on his desk. ‘I mean why is a lawman coming into my office and telling me how I should run my investigations in my town?’

  Cassidy looked to the ceiling, taking calming breaths, and then glanced at Hearst, who returned a slow shake of his head and an I-told-you-so frown.

  ‘I’m not telling you how to run your town. For the last five days, we’ve followed Nathaniel’s trail, and now that we’re in Bear Creek, I’m here to tell you I don’t want a confrontation.’

  Ballard walked round his desk.

  ‘You are, are you?’ With his face set in a fixed smirk, Ballard leaned back against the desk and folded his arms. ‘That is so kind of you. I’m so mighty obliged for your generosity that I’ll let you run my office.’

  Cassidy gritted his teeth against the heavy sarcasm.

  ‘I have enough trouble running my own office.’

  ‘You run Lincoln well, do you?’

  ‘I’m from Monotony.’

  ‘You’re not even Lincoln’s sheriff!’ Ballard shook his head. ‘I suppose you went there and ran that sheriff’s county for him. Then you got bored and came here.’

  ‘No. I just know Nathaniel McBain, and I can help you capture him.’

  ‘I know how you can be helpful.’ Ballard pushed himself from the desk. He paced towards Cassidy, stopping two paces before him, and pointed to the door. ‘You can get on your horse, ride out of Bear Creek, and keep on riding until you reach your own town – Morbid, was it?’

  Cassidy backed away a pace, his jaw aching from the permanent smile he’d forced himself to adopt while talking to Ballard.

  ‘Monotony. You don’t think you need my help, but I’m not leaving town.’ Cassidy removed the smile. ‘So, when I leave your office, consider putting your concerns aside so that we can slam a wanted man in jail.’

  Ballard folded his arms. ‘I’ve done that. When I catch the rest of the Fernandez gang, I’ll bring Nathaniel McBain in as well, but the likes of him are way down my list of wanted men.’

  ‘Nathaniel’s with the Fernandez gang?’ Hearst said, pacing to Cassidy’s side.

  For the first time, Ballard turned his sneering gaze on Hearst.

  ‘I’ve only just learned that, but that proves you’re useless. You claim you have information, yet you don’t even know important details like that.’ Ballard slapped a hand on Hearst’s shoulder, spun him round, and pushed him towards the door. ‘Just get out.’

  ‘Yeah, but—’

  Cassidy raised a hand, silencing Hearst.

  ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’ll leave Sheriff Ballard to consider using us.’

  Ballard turned his back on Cassidy first. ‘Leave town now and save yourself a long wait.’

  Cassidy glared at Ballard’s back, and then turned on his heel and strode outside. On the boardwalk, he waited for Hearst.

  ‘I’m obliged to you for not saying you knew that would happen,’ he said.

  ‘I didn’t think it would help none.’ Hearst shrugged. ‘But it doesn’t stop me wondering what we’ll do now that Ballard has stopped us going after Nathaniel.’

  ‘That meeting changed nothing. Ballard said what I expected him to say, but I had to see him first; it was the right thing to do.’

  ‘I can see that, but time’s running out before Devine comes for Nathaniel, and Ballard won’t change his mind any time soon.’

  ‘He won’t, but I did learn some valuable information that I didn’t know before.’

  Hearst nodded. ‘That Nathaniel has joined Fernandez, but that’ll make it a lot harder for anyone to get him.’

  ‘Maybe, but I prefer to think it gives us a start to our investigation.’

  ‘Ballard said we can’t do anything.’

  Cassidy rubbed his jaw as he licked his lips, his gaze averted from Hearst.

  ‘Ballard only said we couldn’t run his town for him or arrest anyone. He never said we couldn’t investigate.’

  ‘I reckon he meant that . . .’ Hearst considered Cassidy’s smile. ‘I suppose asking a few questions won’t do no harm.’

  Cassidy nodded and peered around until his gaze alighted on the only saloon in town.

  ‘Ballard told me two interesting facts about Nathaniel and I reckon the saloon is where we can use that information.’ Cassidy headed off the boardwalk.

  Hearst hurried on to join Cassidy. ‘Ballard only told us one thing: that he’d just learned that Nathaniel had joined Fernandez.’

  ‘Yeah,
and that’s two pieces of information.’

  ‘I don’t see . . .’ Hearst sighed. ‘Cassidy, I just don’t understand your hunches these days.’

  Cassidy patted Hearst’s shoulder as he paced on to the boardwalk outside the saloon.

  ‘Nathaniel would have known what I meant, and he went bad.’ Cassidy slapped a hand on the batwings. ‘I prefer you just the way you are.’

  ‘Obliged,’ Hearst murmured. ‘Or at least I reckon I am.’

  Chapter Six

  Deputy Hearst raised his third whiskey to his lips, but then lowered it.

  ‘We’ve been here for an hour,’ he said, ‘and you still haven’t told me how drinking whiskey will help us to find Nathaniel.’

  Cassidy turned from the bar and cradled his whiskey glass against his chest as he looked around the saloon.

  This early in the afternoon the usual low-life dregs were littering up the room, but Cassidy had already identified the man he wanted to talk to and was waiting for the right moment to approach him.

  The dirt-streaked and unkempt man was down to the last dribble of liquor in his whiskey bottle and, from his red eyes and shaking hands, Cassidy reckoned he’d consumed the whole bottle this afternoon.

  The man threw the bottle over his shoulder. As the bottle rattled to a halt in the corner of the saloon, he tipped his hat to a jaunty angle and stood up.

  He stumbled, rocking his table to the side. Then, with a shoulder thrust down, he shuffled round the table.

  ‘You know how I work,’ Cassidy said, turning from his studious appraisal of this man. ‘I get hunches, and I back them. That hunch is heading here right now.’

  Cassidy leaned on the bar as the man took a wending path to the bar and stumbled against it.

  ‘Bartender,’ the man said, his voice slurred. He thumped his fist on the bar. ‘More whiskey.’

  ‘You’re mighty full of good cheer today, Dewey,’ the bartender said, smiling. He replaced the smile with a harsh frown. ‘But you don’t get credit from me.’

  ‘I can pay.’ Dewey waved his arms above his head, stumbling himself back a pace so that he had to grab the bar to stop himself falling over. ‘Just set them up, and I’ll drink them.’