Sol wanted to step back. Part of him even wanted to take back what he’d just said. Maybe it was the whiskey or the lack of sleep or the excitement from the night before, but he held his ground and said, ‘‘You heard me, Charlie. I’ve done plenty of work for you, just like all the others who work that mine. We don’t get raises because you’ve always got a sad story about how you’re barely keeping your head above water. Turns out that you’re so tight with your money that you’d rather arrange for it to be stolen just so you can keep telling your sad stories to the rest of us.’’
‘‘I pay men when they earn it.’’
‘‘What did you pay those robbers?’’ Sol asked. ‘‘One of them dropped your name right before he claimed to be following orders. Were those your orders, Charlie?’’
‘‘That’s crazy talk!’’
‘‘I’m pretty certain it wasn’t anyone who worked at the mine, so maybe it was someone who takes the money into Albuquerque.’’ Seeing the twitch in the corner of Charlie’s eye, Sol nodded. ‘‘That’s it, isn’t it? That also explains how they got all that money packed up and loaded onto their horses before a shot was fired or anyone heard you raise your voice.’’
‘‘I was robbed, damn it,’’ Charlie snapped. ‘‘If you don’t believe me, then go to hell!’’
‘‘You see?’’ Sol asked. ‘‘I haven’t even touched your money yet and you’re screaming loud enough to be heard outside. You still expect me to believe you’d keep quiet long enough for those three men to take that small fortune you got there?’’
‘‘They had guns.’’
‘‘Come to think of it,’’ Sol replied as he reached for his holster, ‘‘so do I.’’
Charlie’s eyes went wide as he reached for the drawer on the right side of his desk. His eyes somehow grew wider when he saw that Sol had already beaten him to the draw. Charlie’s jaw went slack for a moment, but he recovered before he started trapping any flies.
‘‘Wh-what’s the meaning of this?’’ Charlie stammered.
Although Sol felt his fingers snagging upon the edge of his holster and even tripping up along the side of his pistol, he’d managed to clear leather at a fairly decent pace. Now that he’d already stopped Charlie from moving any farther, Sol had a few seconds to adjust his grip on the pistol and get his finger on the trigger.
Sweat broke out upon Charlie’s forehead. He nervously licked his lips as if all of the desert’s heat had suddenly caught up to him. Watching as Charlie began to squirm, Sol felt something settle into the back of his mind. ‘‘You weren’t robbed at all,’’ he declared. ‘‘That’s why you didn’t make enough commotion until there was no other choice,’’ Sol said as a way to air his thoughts out. ‘‘That’s why you didn’t start shooting with one of those guns you got stashed in your desk. And that’s why you didn’t take so much as a scratch when the shooting did start.’’
‘‘I got lucky, is all,’’ Charlie grunted. ‘‘You were there.’’
‘‘Yes, I was. I saw those men come out with guns drawn and I heard shots being fired before that.’’ Glancing toward the door, Sol went through everything he could remember about that robbery. ‘‘You wanted those robbers to be seen. It was all a big show. That’s why they fired at the Railway so much. They wanted to draw as many folks out as they could. That’s why you were content to sit back and wait instead of doing whatever it took to hunt those men down. Seeing as how you practically roll around in your money like a pig in mud, I can’t believe this didn’t seem obvious before.’’
‘‘All right,’’ Charlie said as he raised his hands away from the desk drawer. ‘‘Maybe it wasn’t a robbery.’’
‘‘Then what was it?’’
‘‘Those men are couriers who haul the second shipments into Old Mexico.’’
‘‘Old Mexico? What second shipments? How many shipments are there?’’
‘‘Only two,’’ Charlie replied. ‘‘I swear. One goes to Albuquerque and the other goes south across the border.’’
‘‘Why?’’
The sweat was running in small rivers down Charlie’s face by now. His lips even started to tremble as he kept thinking of what he should say and then rejected it before he could get a word out. All of that only served to make things clearer for Sol.
Charlie let out a nervous laugh. ‘‘Does it really matter why? I mean, there’s plenty of money here. You wanted a bigger bonus, so you can have one.’’
‘‘What’s the second shipment?’’ Sol asked Although Charlie’s face had lost all its color, he’d taken on a peculiar sort of calm that was usually reserved for men whose neck was already in the noose. ‘‘You don’t know what you’re gettin’ into here. I swear you don’t.’’
‘‘I’ll take my chances. Tell me what’s going on here or I’ll take a chance on shooting you before anyone thinks to open that door.’’
Charlie paused and pulled in a long, noisy breath. ‘‘I got partners. They got partners of their own in California. You know what it’s like, Sol. I know you men help yourselves to some of them loose bits of silver. Well, I scrape off some loose bits of the profits for myself and send the rest to Albuquerque, which gets split up so they can shave off their own piece and send it to Old Mexico. I’d wager even the bigwigs in California shave off some more before they declare their earnings to the government, who shave off their own piece and call it taxes. Hell, it’s the same bit of stealing all around and it’s probably been going on since money was invented.’’
‘‘All part of the natural order of things, huh?’’ Sol asked. ‘‘Then why are you sweating so badly?’’
Charlie reached up to wipe away the sweat that had trickled into his eyes. ‘‘I can cut you in. I always knew you was a good worker.’’
‘‘You did, huh? What’s my Christian name?’’
‘‘What?’’
‘‘My Christian name,’’ Sol repeated. ‘‘First and last. What is it?’’ After a few quiet seconds, Sol shook his head. ‘‘You don’t even know who I am apart from just another back to break down in that mine.’’
‘‘I’ll pay you to forget all about this.’’
‘‘You won’t have to worry about that,’’ Sol said.
‘‘For the first time in a while, you’re going to tell your partners the truth.’’
‘‘What truth?’’
‘‘That you were robbed.’’
Those words came out of Sol’s mouth almost as if he hadn’t known they were in there. However big of a surprise those words may have been, there was no denying how good it felt to say them. Seeing the newest expression to twist Charlie’s features, however, felt even better.
‘‘Robbed?’’ Charlie grunted. ‘‘By you? That’s a hoot.’’
Sol could hardly believe it when he saw Charlie smirk at him. When he extended his arm to point his pistol directly at Charlie’s face, Sol’s only intention was to wipe that smirk away.
It worked.
‘‘You ain’t a robber,’’ Charlie said. ‘‘You just don’t have it in you.’’
‘‘Why don’t you put me to the test and we can both find that out for certain?’’
Charlie wasn’t about to take him up on that offer. Instead, he raised his hands a bit higher and stared directly at Sol. His breaths became heavier until they sounded more like pants from a tired dog.
‘‘What are you gonna do?’’ Charlie wheezed. ‘‘Kill me?’’
‘‘Not if you do what I tell you.’’
Nodding quickly enough to send sweat flying into the air, Charlie said, ‘‘I’ll do what you ask. We can work something—’’
‘‘Too late for that,’’ Sol snapped in a voice that was so sharp that he barely even recognized it. ‘‘No more deals. I don’t want to hear another word from you.’’
Charlie did what he was told. In fact, he did it so quickly that it struck Sol as downright peculiar.
‘‘Where’s a closet in this house? Point to it.’’
Charlie pointed toward the next room with a trembling hand.
‘‘Walk around that desk and go to the closet.’’
‘‘But I—’’
‘‘I told you to shut your mouth!’’ Sol snapped.
For a moment, Sol thought the bigger man was going to cry. Considering all the strutting and barking Charlie did on a daily basis, the sight of him now was more than a little funny. It went from funny to pathetic when Charlie walked around from behind his desk. He’d soiled his trousers.
Sol didn’t say a word about Charlie’s condition and he didn’t laugh. ‘‘Go to the closet,’’ he said calmly.
Charlie took him to a smaller room that was lined with dusty shelves containing everything from books to moldy loaves of bread. There was a cot in there as well, which was situated next to a short, narrow door. Charlie walked over to that door and stood there with his back to Sol as if he were looking forward to taking a bullet.
‘‘Get in,’’ Sol commanded.
Charlie got into the closet and sat huddled against the far wall.
Closing the door partway, Sol kept his gun aimed at Charlie as he said, ‘‘I’m going to search your house for the money you got stashed.’’
‘‘There isn’t any—’’
This time, all it took was a glare and a subtle, sideways tilt of Sol’s head to shut the big man up.
‘‘I’ll search on my own,’’ Sol said after Charlie had clamped his mouth shut and lowered his head. ‘‘If I hear so much as a creak from this room or see the door so much as budge, I’ll empty every bullet I have into this closet. You understand?’’
Charlie nodded and his shoulders began to shake.
When Sol closed the door, he did so as if there were a sleeping baby in there that he didn’t want to awaken. Sol backed away from the closet and started looking out all the windows in the house. Folks weren’t usually anxious to pay Charlie a visit and today was no exception. Since it was also a bit early to conduct business, the rest of the town went about its own affairs as if the house didn’t even exist.
Sol was careful not to make any noise as he gathered up the money and left through the front door. It took a few trips back and forth, but nobody was outside waiting for him. When he was finished, Sol holstered his gun and calmly walked over to the horses and led them away.
Nobody seemed interested in stopping him and Charlie was being as quiet as a church mouse. Sol had done it. Somehow, he’d gotten away with more money than he could have earned in a lifetime. Not only that, but it was easy.
So easy.
Chapter 8
Sol didn’t charge from town like the other robbers had. In fact, he moved only slightly faster than if he were about to report to work in the next couple of hours. That way, he only got a few glances from a few folks on his way out. The rest of the world, as it was known to do, ignored him.
As the sun climbed its way up into the sky and the light became brighter, the entire town seemed to wake up like a single living thing. The folks filling the streets were that thing’s blood and the mine was its heart. Sol looked toward that all-too-familiar hole in the ground and then was all too happy to dismiss it.
When he got to Doc Connor’s office, Sol looked inside the tent without wasting a thought on the money carried by his and the other two horses. In an odd sort of way, Sol was calmer than he’d ever been. He’d done the unthinkable and the world hadn’t fallen down around his ears. Once that was behind him, Sol felt like he could walk through fire.
‘‘He ain’t here,’’ came a gruff voice from within the tent.
Sol waited for the doctor to step outside.
‘‘You’re looking for Matt, right?’’ the doctor asked.
‘‘Yes. Do you know where I can find him?’’
‘‘Wherever that little lady is, that’s where you’ll find him.’’
‘‘Was he fit for work?’’ Sol asked.
‘‘I recommended he take a day or two to rest, but he seemed pretty anxious to get out of here. If he pops his stitches, it’ll be his own damn fault.’’
‘‘Thanks.’’ With that, Sol tipped his hat and climbed into his saddle.
‘‘Where you going with all them horses?’’
Although the question may have been innocent enough under normal circumstances, Sol didn’t treat it as such. Instead, he turned to fix a hard stare upon the doctor.
Doc Connor recoiled a bit and quickly added, ‘‘Just making conversation, son. I didn’t know you owned one horse and now you’re leading a whole team.’’
‘‘Did Matt settle up his bill?’’ Sol asked.
Obviously thrown off by the sudden change in topic, the doctor took a moment to reply. When he did, he shook his head and said, ‘‘Not just yet, but he’s good for it. I was just fooling when I said that about his stitches. If he tears them, I’ll sew him up again.’’
‘‘That’s not what I meant,’’ Sol said. Leaning to one side, he reached into his saddlebag and grabbed one of the bundles of cash that Charlie hadn’t pulled apart. Without bothering to look at the bundle, Sol removed it from the bag and tossed it to the doctor.
‘‘Wh-what’s this?’’ Connor sputtered as he clumsily caught the money.
‘‘Your payment. Is it enough?’’
Connor chuckled and said, ‘‘Yes, as well as whatever else Matt may need by way of medical services for a few years. In fact, you’d probably still have some change coming.’’
‘‘Keep it,’’ Sol said as he brought his horse around. ‘‘I’ve got to go.’’
‘‘Where are you going?’’ Before he got another glare from Sol, Connor added, ‘‘Will you be coming back? I mean, I thought you worked at the mine.’’
‘‘I tendered my resignation.’’
‘‘Oh, well . . . if you don’t mind me asking . . . are you . . . all right?’’
Sol looked back at the doctor, but this time Connor didn’t look away. In fact, Sol could see some genuine concern in the other man’s eyes. Slowly, Sol nodded. ‘‘Just a bit rattled, I guess.’’
‘‘I can smell the whiskey on your breath from here, son,’’ Connor added in a tactfully quiet tone. ‘‘Used to have my bouts with the bottle myself, so I know a late night when I catch a whiff of one.’’
Sol nodded. ‘‘Promise me something, Doc.’’
‘‘What is it?’’
‘‘You won’t tell anyone where you got that money.’’
Dr. Connor looked down at the money in his hand and promptly tucked it under his coat. ‘‘Should I bother asking where you got it?’’
Sol chuckled and shook his head. ‘‘Let’s just say you’ll probably find out soon. And when you do, I doubt you’ll want to give it back. So long, now.’’
The next place Sol visited was the wagon where he and Matt had hidden from those robbers. Sure enough, Patricia was there and she looked even prettier than Sol had remembered. When she caught sight of him, however, the shine in her eyes dimmed and she turned away. Sol rode up to her anyway.
‘‘Sounds like you and Matt are quite the pair,’’ Sol said.
She looked up at him as if she were defending Matt’s memory. ‘‘I think you should stay away from him,’’ she said.
‘‘I agree.’’
She winced out of surprise and then focused her eyes upon him. ‘‘He’s working, if you insist on finding him.’’
‘‘I only came by to give you this.’’ With that, Sol handed over the reins to one of the spare horses he’d taken from the robbers. That horse was also carrying one of the sets of saddlebags filled with Charlie’s money.
‘‘What’s this?’’ Patricia asked.
‘‘A horse. It belongs to Matt. Be sure to take the saddlebags off and hide them until he can get to them. They’ve got some valuables inside.’’
Although she clearly didn’t like talking to him, Patricia seemed to hate agreeing with him even more. ‘‘All right,’’ she said reluctantly. ‘‘I’ll make sure he gets it.’’
‘‘And if anyone else comes around asking about it, don’t tell them I was even here. In fact, you should hide these bags somewhere safe.’’
‘‘What have you done?’’
Sol’s eyes narrowed to intense slits. Although he didn’t feel the urge to draw his gun, he did want to reach to his holster just to make sure he could get to his weapon. ‘‘What kind of question is that?’’ he asked.
‘‘I don’t know much about you, but you’re the one who got Matt shot. Now you come around here dropping off his things on a stolen horse. That’s it, isn’t it? Those horses are stolen. Nobody who earns what Matt earns can just ride around with all those horses.’’
‘‘You don’t know a thing about me, lady,’’ Sol said. ‘‘And you barely know Matt.’’
‘‘But I care about him.’’
‘‘Care about him?’’ Sol scoffed. ‘‘Love at first sight, huh? I don’t suppose it’s an accident that a pretty little thing like yourself is running this store. I’ll bet you’re real good at smiling at the right men to bring them close and then bat your eyelashes so you can get them to buy a bunch of fancy suits they hardly need.’’
Patricia looked at him without batting an eye. ‘‘Matt’s come around here for weeks. He’s tried talking to me plenty of times before that. He gets nervous and I didn’t want to scare him away. When I saw him bleeding, I thought I might lose something wonderful before I ever got a chance to let it happen.’’
As much as he wanted to hang on to the anger that had flared up when Patricia had looked at him like he was trash, Sol couldn’t manage it. In fact, he recalled Matt mentioning a certain lady he’d had his eye on that vaguely matched Patricia’s description. The subject had come up a few times, but had always been quickly changed.
‘‘Matt’s a good man,’’ she said. ‘‘He’s said some good things about you and you did help get him to the doctor. But I saw when you had that gun in your hand that day. You liked it. Now you come around like you’re trying to hide something. Well, if those horses are . . .’’ She let her sentence trail off as if she didn’t even want to follow her line of thought to its conclusion.
Death of a Bad Man Page 7
