Cade usually kept to the front porch during the counting, but knowing this was the most likely moment when the money was disappearing, he stationed himself inside at the front windows instead. He kept his gaze on the street, though he could see the handover out of the corner of his eye.
Lewis directed Stevenson to set the strongbox on the teller counter not far from Delancey. Cade took slow, unconcerned strides to the next window so he could see the exchange better. Lewis sent Delancey for the bank ledger, then flipped through the keys on his key ring, stopping at the ones for the strongbox.
He put the first key in the first lock and turned it. “You’re a little early,” he said to Stevenson. “You must have had an uneventful journey.”
“I suppose,” was Stevenson’s reply.
Delancey returned, the bank ledger in his hands. “The delivery isn’t more than twenty minutes earlier than it has been,” he said. “That’s not so drastic.” He set the ledger on the counter.
Lewis gave him a look of tired patience. “I was making conversation.” He turned the second key, then opened the lid. Lewis moved a few things around inside the box. Apparently satisfied, he gave Stevenson a nod of acceptance.
“I just need your signature,” Stevenson said, holding out a ledger of his own.
Lewis touched the top of his head and frowned. His other hand fished about in his pocket. “It seems I’ve left my spectacles in my office. Step in with me; I’ll sign the paper in there. Mr. Delancey, will you begin counting and distributing the funds into the boxes for the other branches?”
“Of course.” Delancey took up a position directly in front of the strongbox.
Lewis and Stevenson stepped into the back. How often did the scene play out this way, with Delancey given the task of counting without supervision? It was a miracle more money wasn’t missing.
Cade continued watching clandestinely, but nothing truly condemning happened. Delancey counted money and moved it into designated boxes. Stevenson left with his signatures and the original strongbox. Lewis marked the amount in his bank books when Delancey said the total was two thousand three hundred dollars. Then, without incident, the boxes for the scattered bank branches were locked up in the bank’s safe.
Either Delancey was quite good at sleight of hand or he hadn’t taken any money this time. Still, Cade meant to move forward with his plan. Delancey had slipped money from the deliveries before without Lewis noticing. He’d likely manage it again.
Cade moved to the door. “Afternoon, men.” He tipped his hat then slipped outside.
The players were all in place. Cade gave them each a nod as he passed, moving toward the jailhouse.
“Sheriff O’Brien!” Lewis called out before Cade had reached the mercantile.
He turned back.
Lewis hurried up beside him. “Could we speak?”
“I’m all ears.”
Lewis made a quick check of their surroundings, then, in hushed tones, said, “Two thousand three hundred.”
Cade had no patience for puzzles. He simply watched Lewis and waited for him to explain.
“The delivery came to two thousand three hundred dollars, but we were expecting three thousand,” Lewis said. “I double-checked with Omaha before this delivery left, and they confirmed the amount: three thousand. We’re missing some, just like before.”
“Not a good sign, that.” So a bit of money had been slipped out during the handover.
“It’s worse than that,” Lewis continued. “The telegram I asked Mr. Delancey to send a few weeks ago about the missing funds wasn’t sent. Mayor Brimble and the bank in Omaha both confirmed that.”
Cade had learned that himself. But now that Lewis knew, there would be no keeping the situation quiet for long. “Do you have any suspicions about where the money’s gone?”
“There’s only one reason I can think of for Mr. Delancey not to send the telegram and then lie to me about it.”
Cade nodded. Lewis had it sorted through very well. “Give me time to see what I can figure.”
Lewis nodded his agreement. “But I have to send a telegram to Omaha. They need to know what’s happening.”
“Just give me a day or two,” Cade repeated. “We have to make certain we have the right man.” He didn’t need days, really. He simply didn’t want Lewis tipping their hand.
“I understand.” Lewis returned quickly to the bank.
Cade headed directly to the jailhouse and made his way around back, where Jeb was waiting with Fintan saddled. He mounted swiftly and set Fintan northward. The success of their plan depended on him reaching the Parker place before Delancey did, but he also needed to get there without being spotted by any of Delancey’s partners.
He took a roundabout path, his mind reviewing everything he’d seen, everything they knew. Anticipating what came next in a confrontation had kept him alive for ten years as a sheriff. He wasn’t about to jump into this situation without some idea of what to expect.
Money was being skimmed off the delivery very quickly. Very deceptively. No doubt Delancey had it in his pocket right now. He was brash, that was for certain, something Cade wouldn’t have guessed about the man.
And he was a little sloppy for someone stealing money from the very bank where he worked. Why not send the telegram reporting the missing funds? Not doing so only pointed suspicion directly at him. Unless he meant to skip town once he’d been figured out.
Cade looped off the north road, taking a longer but less conspicuous path. Tansy had agreed to let him stable Fintan in her barn. He’d be there in another minute or so.
What other proof do we have? The note in Delancey’s room. Again, he’d been sloppy. Something that incriminating should have been burned.
Who are his partners? That was the impossible question to answer. For all the clues he’d accidentally given that he was involved, Delancey had managed to keep the others’ identities a secret.
He came up to Tansy’s barn. Andrew had been assigned as a lookout in the loft; he had, no doubt, already spotted Cade. A stall was cleaned and ready. Cade tethered Fintan inside. He quickly climbed the ladder to check on Andrew.
“Seen anything?” he asked.
“Two fellas rode up and went inside the Parker place,” Andrew said.
That’d likely be Delancey’s partners waiting for the stolen money. “Anyone we know?”
“Both of ’em.” Andrew never looked away from the house he’d been assigned to watch. “The first was that fellow who was trying for the sheriff job.”
Thackery? That didn’t seem likely. Rice, maybe. “The one with the blue kerchief?”
Andrew gave a quick nod.
It was Rice. They’d not seen hide nor hair of him since the council’s decision. Cade had assumed he was long gone. There’d always been something a little sinister about the man. Cade should have paid more attention, but he’d been distracted by a pair of dancing eyes and a finely-worn gun belt.
“Who else?” he asked. It’d sure be helpful to know who he ought to aim for if bullets started to fly.
“I don’t know his name,” Andrew said. “But he’s the one who carries the money into the bank when it’s delivered. He wears a kerchief too.”
Stevenson, the deliveryman. He must’ve come directly from the bank. Which could mean the funds were skimmed before ever reaching Savage Wells. No, he wouldn’t have keys.
Cade knew Rice was good with his weapon. There was no doubt Stevenson was as well; he’d have to be, working as a guard for such large sums of money traveling across the open West.
“Keep your eyes trained, Andrew. I’ve a terrible feeling this could get bloody if we aren’t on the alert.”
Andrew nodded solemnly. “It seems odd, don’t it?”
“What’s that?”
“The deliveryman’s been bringing money here for years; I�
�ve seen him from my tree. The same man for years. But Mr. Delancey has only been here a few weeks. It seems odd that they worked out how to steal this money so quick like. And if Mr. Rice is in on it…Well, he left town, or we thought he did, before Mr. Delancey ever got here.”
That was odd, actually. The money first started disappearing almost the moment Delancey arrived in town. That was hardly time to meet Stevenson and convince him to go in on a scheme. Odd, indeed.
And there was another example of carelessness. Why would he start stealing money straightaway? Why not wait a few weeks to avoid suspicion? It was almost as if he wanted to get caught.
Cade stopped midstride. They had more than enough evidence pointing to Delancey to have put them on his scent almost instantly, so much that Judge Barclay had issued the search warrant without delay. It had been easy. Too easy. Far too easy.
Jumpin’ gopher mites. Delancey was being framed. Quick as lightning, Cade was sure of it. They were all being set up. Someone else was stealing the funds, and Delancey was going to take the fall for it.
Him not sending the telegram had seemed condemning. But what if he’d never been asked to send it? What if that had been part of the plot all along?
“Andrew, can you imitate a hoot owl?”
He answered with a well-executed hoot. Perfect. He was supposed to whistle like a bird in response to Paisley. Cade didn’t want the signals getting confused. “Keep your eyes peeled for Lewis,” Cade said. “If he comes anywhere near that house, you hoot. Understand?”
“Sure thing, Sheriff.”
Cade didn’t waste another minute. None of the others knew they’d been had. They’d be watching for the wrong man and, in their watching, might very well be in great danger.
Paisley couldn’t say if her heart was pounding more from nerves or anticipation. The wait in the cold confines of Tansy’s moonshining shack had been a long one. Hawk had told her more about the marshals and what her job there would be like. She’d asked a hundred questions. All the while, neither of them took their eyes off the old Parker place.
They had seen Mr. Rice, one-time candidate for sheriff, arrive with a man Paisley had only vaguely recognized. Hawk had identified him as Stevenson, the bank delivery driver. They knew who the accomplices were; now they just needed to wait for the ringleader.
“Here comes the feather in our cap,” Hawk said.
“Joshua?”
He nodded. “Walking up to the door of the house.”
“But Cade’s not here yet.”
“No time to wait,” he said. “This is it. Signal to Andrew and Tansy. We’ll move in slowly so none of them can leave.”
She hopped up and made for the door of their hideout. The air outside was nominally colder than inside the moonshiner’s shack. She kept low and out of sight. Andrew was stationed in the loft of the nearby barn with his scoped rifle at the ready. Tansy was tucked behind an outcropping of rocks. Both had insisted they didn’t mind the cold.
Paisley slipped two fingers in her mouth and made a bird call. It was a little out of place so late in the season, but not so much so that they were worried about drawing attention. After a moment, an answering whistle sounded. Tansy. Paisley waited and listened. Another whistle. Andrew.
Paisley tucked her head back inside the hideout. “We’re ready. Do you think Cade is on his way?”
“I’m certain of it.” He checked his pistol.
Paisley made a quick check of her weapon as well.
“Are you up for this?” His tone was unfailingly somber. “You were engaged to this man after all.”
That did weigh on her more than a little. But she knew what needed to be done. “We have a town to protect and people who are counting on us. I’m not afraid to do what needs to be done.”
Hawk gave the go-ahead nod. They inched their way forward, keeping a close eye on the place. Hawk and Paisley took up a position in front of the porch, hunched low so they couldn’t be seen from inside the house.
She held her pistol at the ready. The plan had initially been for all three of them to go in at once, but they’d talked through how to approach it if Cade didn’t make it in time. The goal was to get at least one of the men out of the house so that she and Hawk wouldn’t be outnumbered.
Hawk tossed a pebble at the front door, ducking the instant after he threw it. A couple more, slightly bigger rocks, finally brought someone. They heard the door open.
“Who’s there? Show yerself.”
Paisley didn’t recognize the voice, so it wasn’t Rice or Joshua. It must have been Stevenson.
Footsteps came to the edge of the porch.
“Who’s there?” Stevenson said again.
Cade had said he didn’t want anyone dying if it could be avoided. The trick would be luring the driver far enough away from the house to take him down without the others knowing.
He came down the first step.
Paisley met Hawk’s eye. He nodded.
Stevenson came down the second, then the final step. His feet were on the ground. That was the key moment. Hawk dove, catching him from behind and slamming him down, hard. He flipped the man onto his back and landed a punch to his jaw. Paisley handed over the gag they’d brought. They couldn’t risk him calling out a warning to the others. Together, they pushed him up against the porch stairs and tied him to the newel post.
One down. Two to go.
They slipped up the steps. Stevenson had left the door open. They’d need to be extra careful not to be spotted. The front steps had recently been repaired, so at least they didn’t squeak. Hawk stepped onto the porch. Paisley moved up right behind him.
No voices came from inside. A shutter, hanging by a single, bent hinge, blew against the house. Somewhere in the distance an owl hooted. Hawk nodded toward the door, then, pointing to himself, mouthed, Me first.
She nodded. Both armed and alert, they entered.
Joshua laid on the ground not far from them, facedown and unmoving. A door leading outside to the back end of the house stood wide open. Rice had made a break for it.
“I’ll head after the runaway,” Hawk said, already heading for the back door. “See if Delancey’s still alive.”
Still alive. Even knowing he was a criminal, the thought of Joshua dead hit her like a rush of cold water. But she had a job to do.
“Joshua?” She crossed to him. “Answer if you can hear me. Answer in whatever way you can.”
A shot rang out from somewhere behind the house. Then another from further away. She hoped Hawk had found Rice and not the other way around.
“Joshua?”
Still no answer.
In the back of her thoughts, she swore she could hear Cade’s voice. Be cautious. Assume anything could be a trap.
Joshua might very well be feigning whatever injury had laid him out. She nudged him with her foot. He didn’t move. Paisley carefully crouched beside him. Gideon had taught her how to find a pulse in the wrist. She checked Joshua’s. It was there but very faint. That likely meant he really was injured.
She holstered her pistol long enough to turn him over, but pulled it back out immediately thereafter. She wasn’t taking unnecessary chances. An enormous bump jutted out from Joshua’s forehead, a trickle of blood running down his face. He’d been hit.
Had there been a mutiny among the thieves? Maybe he’d returned empty-handed. Or maybe they’d intended to take all the money for themselves. Either way, she needed to find Hawk, see if Rice had escaped, and then get Joshua to town and over to Gideon’s house.
Joshua’s eyes fluttered open. He looked at her, though there was undeniable vagueness in his eyes. “Waiting.” He took a pained breath. “They were waiting. For me.”
What did he mean?
“Knew I was coming. Planned it all.”
Planned it all. Did he mean Rice and Stevenson? Of
course they’d planned it. Joshua had planned it.
His eyelids were nearly closed again. “Go. Danger.”
He was warning her? That was hardly the behavior of a hardened criminal.
A gunshot rang out, rattling the windows. Pain seared through her back and shoulder, burning, tearing, ripping at her. Her arm dropped limp at her side, her pistol slipping from her dead grasp. She stumbled forward, trying to catch herself using the only arm that would move.
Someone grabbed her from behind before she hit the ground. The grip was rough and jerked her backward from the house.
Andrew had given his owl hoot. Hawk and Paisley didn’t know where the real danger was coming from, and there’d already been three gunshots. Cade ran at full speed toward the Parker place, all the while studying every inch of his surroundings. He would be coming up from the side of the house, but he had no idea where anyone else was.
He’d reached the barren side garden and very nearly to the house when he caught out of the corner of his eyes a glint of afternoon sunlight flashing off metal.
“I’d advise you to toss down your weapon, Sheriff.” Lewis.
Cade spotted him, not thirty feet away, holding a gun to Paisley’s head. He met her eyes. There was worry there, but not panic. Her holster was empty. Lewis had disarmed her somehow.
“I’m not bluffing,” Lewis shouted, slipping more fully behind Paisley. “Both of you.”
Hawk was only a few feet away from Cade, but his arm was bleeding badly. They had Lewis outgunned, but he had a human shield.
“Toss your gun,” Cade told Hawk. He’d not get Paisley killed if he could help it.
“Quit being so yellow-bellied and shoot the man, Cade,” Paisley called back.
Was the woman daft? Lewis might panic and actually pull the trigger.
Lewis dragged her backward, putting more distance between them all. If only Andrew or Tansy were closer.
Paisley captured Cade’s gaze. She mouthed, quite clearly, the words, Shoot him. Now.
The Sheriffs of Savage Wells Page 28
