The Accomplice: The Silent Partner

by Marcus Galloway

  Reaching out with both hands, Bailey corralled the pot and dragged it toward himself. “Say whatever you want. I win. Deal the next hand.”

  As Kate leaned back against him, Doc kept spinning that silver dollar on the table. His eyes remained fixed upon Ed Bailey and his shoulders shook with the occasional cough that racked his entire upper body.

  The cards were dealt and a few opening bets were placed. Doc sipped his whiskey from his tin cup and bumped up the bet by twenty-five dollars. This time, both Bill and the Chinaman folded.

  “Just twenty-five?” Bailey asked. “I won more’n enough off you to cover that.”

  Doc smirked and coughed some more. “Listen, darlin’,” he said as he took a cigarette from a polished silver case and lit it. “Ed’s feeling his oats.”

  “That’s cute,” Kate said. When she caught Bailey trying to stare her down, she giggled even harder.

  “How many cards you want?” Bailey asked through a clenched jaw.

  “Just one.” Doc flipped his discard onto the pile along with the hands that had been folded already and waited for Bailey to toss a replacement his way. The card came, Bailey took two, and the rest of the deck was set down next to his left hand.

  Bailey nodded and ground his teeth together as he quickly rearranged his cards.

  After rearranging his own cards, Doc kept them lowered and continued to spin the silver dollar with his free hand.

  “Do I get to watch you bust him, Doc?” Kate asked with a sly grin and wide eyes.

  Doc looked up at her and said, “That’s not nice, darlin’.”

  Kate pouted for half a second and then reached down to take the cigarette from Doc’s mouth and place it between her own lips. She took a long pull, which caused the end of the cigarette to flare up, and then slid her fingers along its length.

  “Are you gonna bet or watch her smoke?” Bailey snapped.

  Reluctant to take his eyes off Kate, Doc slowly met Bailey’s gaze and blinked a few times as if he’d just rounded a corner to find Ed staring him down. “Oh. Is it my turn?”

  “Yes, goddammit!”

  Doc wasn’t affected in the least by the rage in Bailey’s voice. Instead, he furrowed his brow and looked down at the table. “Mind your hand, Ed.”

  At first, Bailey looked at the five cards he was holding. Then he looked at his discards, which were lying on the table. His fingers went to the pile of discarded cards and one finger was actually under the edges of a few of the cards.

  “Oh, sorry about that,” Bailey grunted.

  Setting down his cards, Doc said, “Sorry’s not going to cut it this time. I’ve asked you more than once not to fuss with the deadwood.”

  Leaning close enough for her lips to brush against Doc’s ear, Kate whispered, “Didn’t you tell me about a man who put Henry Kahn up to gunning for you?”

  “What’s she saying?” Bailey asked.

  “He’s been baiting you this whole time,” Kate whispered. “You know that man from Deadwood is here in town. He probably got to Ed and paid him to—”

  “That’s enough of that,” Ed growled.

  Suddenly, Doc slammed his hand down upon the coin he’d been spinning so he could reach for the center of the table. “I’m taking this pot,” he announced. “You’re messing with the discards after you were warned to keep your hands away from them and now I’m claiming this pot.”

  Hunched forward over the table, Ed Bailey shook his head slowly and said, “You don’t got the right to take shit. Who else at this table saw me messing with the deadwood? What about you, big man?” he asked Bill. “You didn’t see shit, did you?”

  Bill still wore his smile, but there was nothing behind it. He held out his hands and said, “You were warned more than once.”

  “What about you, Chinaman? What’d you see?”

  The Chinese man glanced back and forth between Doc and Bailey, but didn’t say a word. Then again, with all the whispering Kate was doing, it was doubtful that Doc would have heard much of anything else.

  “He’s pushing you, Doc,” Kate said. “Just like you said Henry Kahn was pushing you.”

  Spitting out a frustrated breath, Bailey slapped Doc’s hand away from his money and then got to his feet. As soon as he was clear of the table, Bailey reached for his gun.

  Doc leapt up as well. He moved so quickly that Kate let out a surprised yelp as she hopped from Doc’s lap before she was dumped onto the floor. Doc’s hand flashed to his coat and he stepped in so close to Bailey that neither man could take anything close to an accurate shot. Fortunately, Doc wasn’t reaching for a gun.

  Twisting his body behind his right arm, Doc drove his short, curved blade into Bailey’s stomach. Gritting his teeth, Doc jerked the blade upward until it jammed on something solid enough to stop it. Once the blade was lodged into bone, it took a good deal of Doc’s strength to pull it free. He knocked Bailey away from him and finally retrieved his knife amid a fine spray of blood.

  The sight of that blood elicited some shouts from others in the saloon. Bill and the Chinaman were already out of their seats, but they backed up a few more steps now that they saw the fire in Doc’s eyes. Someone at another table already had their pistol drawn and was bringing it up to get a clean shot at Doc’s back.

  “You take one more move and I’ll make it your last,” Kate snarled as she pressed the barrel of her derringer against the man’s head.

  The man at the other end of Kate’s gun had a scar running from his chin and down most of his neck. He shifted his eyes to look at Kate, but wasn’t foolish enough to move anything else than that.

  “Drop the gun,” Kate said.

  He opened his hand and let the gun fall.

  Ed Bailey was still on his feet. His eyes were wide open and his mouth was agape. When his head drooped forward, he tried to reach for the fresh wound in his gut. Just as his fingers met the bloody spot on his shirt, he lost the strength needed to keep himself upright. Bailey started to wobble and then tripped over his own chair.

  Once Ed hit the floor, Doc wiped off his blade and put it back into its sheath. “I believe this is mine,” he said as he scooped up the pot from that last hand. When he shifted his attention to the rest of the room, he found Shannsey near the bar with his shotgun in hand.

  “My apologies for the mess, Shanny,” Doc said. “I’ll be going now.”

  “You won’t be going anywhere,” the marshal said as he rushed through the front door.

  “Sorry, Doc,” Shannsey said. “I sent someone for the law as soon as things started getting rough.”

  “I was right across the street,” the marshal said. “I would’ve heard the commotion on my own anyway.”

  Judging by the looks on the other faces in the room, nobody in the saloon believed that for a second.

  “It was self-defense,” Kate shouted. “Ed Bailey would have killed Doc.”

  The marshal looked over to find Kate still holding another man at gunpoint. “Is that so? Can anyone else in here back that up?”

  “Sure,” Bill Kennebeck replied. “Ed was messing with the deadwood. Doc was in his rights to take the pot.”

  Doc grinned as if he didn’t have blood spattered on the front of his expensive suit. “There now. That’s the end of that. Just to express my civic-mindedness, I’ll excuse myself from this town altogether.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” the marshal said. “I’m placing you under house arrest until I straighten this out.”

  Scowling as if she was going to pull her trigger out of spite, Kate said, “That’s a load of—”

  “Shut her up,” the marshal hollered, “and take him into custody.”

  A trio of deputies rushed into the saloon from behind the marshal to carry out the lawman’s orders. Doc held up his hands and allowed himself to be disarmed, but Kate took a step back and kicked a chair toward the deputy who approached her.

  “Calm that woman down, will you?” the deputy said.

  Doc kept his han
ds up and started to laugh. “If I knew the trick to that, believe me, I would tell you.”

  Looking more than a little disappointed, Kate slapped her derringer against the deputy’s chest and turned her nose up as if she’d smelled something rotten. “I won’t be held in a cell,” she said. “You men don’t have the right.”

  “We’re not holding you, ma’am,” the marshal said. “Unless anyone wants to lodge a complaint.”

  Since nobody in the saloon was eager to get on Kate’s bad side, nobody spoke up.

  “Fine, then,” the marshal said. “Let’s get out of here before things get any worse. Someone see that this body gets carted out of here.”

  Doc didn’t say anything more as his hands were bound behind his back and he was led from the saloon by the marshal. Those two, along with the deputies, formed a procession that found its way to the Planter’s Hotel. Due to all the commotion, Doc wasn’t able to see the figures that stood in the shadows between two nearby buildings.

  “I’ll be damned,” Dave Rudabaugh said as he watched Doc and the lawmen rush past the alley where he was hiding. “You arranged for all of that?”

  “Not exactly,” Samuel said. “There was a man inside that saloon that was supposed to take a shot at Holliday.”

  “Was it that Ed Bailey everyone’s shouting about?”

  Samuel shook his head. “No. It was some fellow with a scar running down his chin.”

  “Well, this looks just fine to me. You think we’ll be able to get that lunger away from them laws so I can get my money?”

  “Most definitely. I’ve spoken to some men who should be able to arrange that.”

  “They damn well better,” Rudabaugh growled as he turned on Samuel like a wolf that had just smelled fresh meat, “or I’m making good on my promise to carve the price of that gold out of your ass. Nobody steers me to a dead end without catching some hell for it. The only reason I haven’t killed you yet is because of all the times you’ve come through for me.”

  “This will be one of those times, Dave. I swear it.”

  “Well, I can’t wait around here for long. I’ve got too many men after me right now.”

  “You’ll only have to wait for those lawmen to leave Holliday alone for a few minutes. I’ll make arrangements to deal with him from there.”

  25

  Since there were plenty of witnesses speaking out against Ed Bailey and his wandering hands, Doc was placed under house arrest until the marshal could figure out what else needed to be done with him. Since the closest thing Doc had to a home in Fort Griffin was a rented room, he was sent there and locked up under armed guard.

  The Tin Hat Brigade showed up behind the Planter’s Hotel less than an hour after the marshal had posted his men near Doc’s door and went back to his office. Although the marshal shot a few glances toward the shadow-filled lot behind the hotel, he didn’t take any steps in that direction. Instead, he prevented himself from seeing anything that wasn’t supposed to be there and put his head back in the sand.

  Another three shapes lingered in the darkness behind the hotel. One of them stepped forward so his face could be seen in the sputtering light of a single lantern hanging near the hotel’s kitchen entrance.

  “Good,” Samuel said. “I’m glad to see you men knew to come here.”

  Graymon and Frank stepped forward, leaving the rest of the vigilantes in the shadows. “Of course we knew to come here. It’s not like the marshal was being quiet about it.”

  “Yes, well, Holliday’s inside. If you could take me up there, I’d—”

  “Who’s that with you?” one of the other vigilantes asked.

  Samuel backed into the shadows, “Just some friends I brought to help you men.”

  “We don’t need any help. Send them away.”

  “Who is that behind you?” Samuel asked angrily. “The more time we waste out here—”

  “Holliday’s locked up,” the man in the shadows behind Graymon said. “What have your friends got to hide?”

  “Yeah,” Frank added. “Tell them to step forward. If they’re gonna help us, they need to be seen anyways.”

  Samuel stepped forward as the men behind him stepped back. “We meant to cover you from out here in the event that someone tried to rush in after you went into the hotel. Holliday is known to associate with killers, you know.”

  “Hey,” the vigilante in the shadows said. “That’s Arkansas Dave Rudabaugh!”

  Letting out a snarling profanity from behind Samuel, Rudabaugh drew his gun and fired a shot at the vigilantes. The other man who’d been lurking in the shadows with Rudabaugh rushed away from the hotel to try to fire at the men from a better angle. It wasn’t long before Brad’s face could be seen in the periphery of the lantern’s glow.

  Frank had his gun in hand, but didn’t get a chance to pull his trigger before one of Rudabaugh’s bullets clipped him in the thigh. As soon as he dropped to one knee, Frank received help from the man who’d spotted Rudabaugh from the shadows.

  “Looks like I was wrong about you,” Frank said through gritted teeth.

  Caleb helped Frank up and drew one of his .44s with his free hand. “Don’t fret it,” he said. “I’m just glad I was right about that skinny fellow.”

  “Don’t worry about him. He won’t be bothering anyone for much longer.”

  “It’s not exactly him I’m worried about.” As he said that, Caleb fired a shot at Rudabaugh before the outlaw could pull his own trigger.

  The hasty shot screamed past Rudabaugh’s head, causing Dave to reflexively drop down low and back away until his hip hit the side of the hotel. Once he had his back to something solid, Rudabaugh sighted along his barrel and fired at the first vigilante he could find.

  Graymon let out a pained grunt as hot lead punched through his torso. The impact of the bullet sent him to the ground and the pain of his landing kept him from getting up.

  “Kill those sons of bitches!” Paul shouted.

  The air suddenly became thick with smoke and thunder from the vigilantes’ guns.

  Brad had managed to get around to the side of the group and he fired a shot that hit one of the vigilantes who had been standing with Caleb in the shadows. That man dropped to the dirt and clutched his back where the bullet had gone in.

  The bulk of the vigilantes shifted their aim toward Brad, sending a wave of lead toward him. One of those bullets hit him, followed by another and another until Brad was flailing about like a doll in a dog’s mouth. He finally crumpled to the ground, where his last breath was sent into the dirt. As the life drained out of him, Brad focused on another nearby source of light.

  Caleb didn’t notice the light at first since he was too busy looking for Rudabaugh. Now that the shadows had been pushed back a bit, he noticed that Rudabaugh wasn’t against the wall where he’d previously been hiding. Samuel wasn’t there, either.

  “Someone’s set fire to the place!” Frank shouted. “Get over there before it spreads!”

  “You gonna be all right?” Caleb asked.

  “Yeah,” Frank replied. “Those assholes skinned out of here. They’re probably the ones that set that fire to cover themselves. If they come near this hotel again, me or Graymon will burn ’em down.”

  Caleb ran toward the source of the light and saw that one of the small shacks next to the hotel was ablaze. Judging by the size of it, the shack was either a large outhouse or a toolshed. After standing there for a second and catching a face full of the foul-smelling smoke, Caleb knew which of those two it was.

  Although the fire was quickly consuming the outhouse, it was already being controlled by several men who tossed water or dirt onto it. Most of those men were vigilantes, leaving plenty of options open for someone looking to escape Fort Griffin’s justice.

  Cursing under his breath, Caleb looked around for any sign of Samuel or Rudabaugh. He couldn’t see any trace of them. Rather than take off on a wild-goose chase, Caleb headed into the hotel and to the one spot in town where bot
h Rudabaugh and Samuel may be going.

  He shoved past the people streaming outside to get a look at the fire and ran for the stairs. Even before he could get a look at Doc’s door, Caleb saw that trouble had gotten there ahead of him.

  “Open that door,” Kate said to the deputy posted outside Doc’s room. She took a quick look out the nearby window and saw that the flames were already being snuffed out. Tightening her grip on the pistol she was holding, Kate straightened her arms to shove the gun directly into the lawman’s face. “I said open it!”

  “What the hell are you doing?” Caleb asked as he stormed the rest of the way up the stairs. As soon as he saw the fire in Kate’s eyes, Caleb stopped.

  She turned as if she was going to bite. Since her gun was still pointed at the deputy and her eyes were pointed at Caleb, neither man wanted to put her to the test.

  “Those vigilantes are clamoring for Doc’s blood,” she said. “They’re already shooting the place up. If you’re Doc’s friend, you’ll help get him away from here.”

  “Put the gun down, Kate.”

  “No! We need to move. The fire’s already almost out.”

  “You set that fire?” Caleb asked.

  “You’re damn right I did.” Shifting the full brunt of her glare to the deputy, she thumbed back her pistol’s hammer and snarled, “Now toss your gun and open that door!”

  Whether out of pure reflex or survival instinct, the deputy lifted his gun from its holster using just his thumb and forefinger, tossed it away, and opened the door.

  Doc was already standing in the doorway with his coat on and his bag packed. He looked at the deputy and then at the gun that had just been dropped. “I believe that’s mine,” he said as he stooped down to pick up the pearl-handled .38. Keeping the gun in his hand, Doc wrapped an arm around Kate’s waist and pulled her to him.

  Judging by the smile on her face and the way she gave herself over to him, Kate may very well have forgotten the deputy was there. She kissed Doc powerfully on the mouth and showed no sign of letting up.

  The deputy slowly reached for the backup gun tucked at the small of his back. Just as his fingertips found the smaller gun’s handle, the deputy felt the sharp sting of something cracking against the back of his head.