The Lawman

by G. Michael Hopf

  “Who is it?” Wallace asked.

  “Mr. Wagner, he’s Mrs. Corrigan’s father,” Isaac answered, his stomach turning just at the mere mention of his name.

  “I’ll get right on it,” Wallace said.

  Isaac turned to the others and said with a raised voice, “Let’s cover some of my ground rules.”

  WILKES’ OFFICE, BANE, NEVADA

  Marcus immediately reported to Quincy to give him the news of Isaac coming to the event, but was told to wait outside.

  Fifteen minutes passed and still he waited.

  Quincy’s office door opened, and out stepped Duncan McCarthy, Connor’s brother and owner of McCarthy Livery and Stables.

  Marcus gave him a curious look. He sped out of the front office space and exited quickly out the door.

  “Get in here!” Quincy hollered.

  Marcus got to his feet and went inside the office. Curious as to Duncan’s appearance, he asked, “What’s the Scotsman doing here?”

  Lifting his head from a set of papers, Quincy answered bluntly, “That’s none of your business.”

  Marcus gritted his teeth.

  “Do you have something to tell me?” Quincy asked.

  “Yes, the new sheriff confirms he will be attending tonight.”

  “How does he look?” Quincy asked.

  “Look?”

  “Is he an imposing man? His stature, I’m asking about his stature,” Quincy said.

  “He’s tall, not too tall, looks a bit skinny, if you ask me,” Marcus said.

  “I hear he has a reputation, one for being tough as nails. We need to watch everything we do until after I get a chance to talk with him tonight. If all goes well, he’ll be working for me by the end of the day. If not, then we’ll have to figure out something else if he gets in our way,” Quincy said.

  “I understand,” Marcus said.

  “Have you found my silver?” Quincy asked concerning the silver shipment they’d stolen having also been stolen.

  “No.”

  “How well are you looking?” Quincy asked.

  “I’m limited in manpower right now, but I will do my best to have it tracked down. I’ve sent a team to Elko and other depots, including Carson City.”

  “I need that silver,” Quincy barked.

  “I understand,” Marcus simply replied.

  “How come you never call me sir? Hmm? You don’t show me any respect. I’m your boss; I pay you well.”

  Like he often did, Marcus ignored questions he didn’t want to answer. “If there’s anything else?”

  Quincy hopped to his feet and walked over to Marcus. “Do I need to hire someone new to handle your responsibilities?”

  “No.”

  “I can’t stress it enough, I need that silver found and found fast. I’m out on a ledge here,” Quincy said.

  “We’re looking, and I will do my best.”

  “Stop saying that. I need you to find it; I need a guarantee.”

  Growing weary, Marcus sniped, “I can’t give a guarantee. There’s hundreds of square miles to search, but I will do what I can within my power.”

  Quincy seethed at the response.

  “Is that all?” Marcus asked.

  “Yes, now get out of here,” Quincy barked.

  Marcus turned and exited.

  Quincy paced the office a few times before sitting back down. If he couldn’t find that silver, he’d most likely lose his chance to acquire the parcel of land and put down his share in the mining company he desperately wanted to start with the investors he had coming to town. However, he did have one other option, one he didn’t like, as it was risky and could put all his enterprises in jeopardy and him perilously close to financial ruin. If the first came and he didn’t have the silver, he’d make that decision then.

  MCCARTHY LIVERY AND STABLES, BANE, NEVADA

  Connor tossed a saddle over a beam and with a snorty tone said, “I didn’t expect to see you anytime soon, Sheriff.” When he said sheriff, he did so emphasizing it above the other words.

  Isaac rolled his eyes and said, “I don’t know who to talk to, so I came to see you.”

  Connor walked up to Isaac, patted his shoulder, and said, “Do you find it a blessing or a curse that your sole friend is an ex-convict from Scotland?”

  Ignoring his smart-ass comment, Isaac continued, “I saw her, and she looks no different, really, since I saw her last.”

  “And that was how long ago?”

  “Four years ago.”

  “Being that you’re here, I reckon she didn’t reveal your secret.”

  “She told me to leave town. She’s concerned for me, and rightly so, I’m risking everything,” Isaac said.

  “My friend, you sound like a boy with all this talk. Leave the poor woman be. What exactly are you thinking will come from this? Huh? She’s married to the man who owns the damn town. If he wanted to, he could squash you with the plentiful sacks of gold that he owns.”

  “He’d probably use silver,” Isaac joked.

  Connor smiled, wagged his finger at Isaac, and said, “That, my friend, was funny.”

  “You know why I came here.”

  “Yes, you said you needed to ask her a question. So did ya? Did you ask your question?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now it’s time to leave or move on; you’ve accomplished what you came here to do. Stop this nonsense before it costs you your damn life,” Connor said sincerely.

  “I think she still loves me,” Isaac said.

  “Love, feelings, blah, blah, blah. Listen, friend, you can’t have her; that moment in time has come and gone. You’re living in the past. I know what happened to you was wrong, though I still don’t know what that was specifically, but it was wrong. Life isn’t easy, there aren’t guarantees, life isn’t fair. Life is life; it’s suffering layered with fleeting moments of bliss and drunkenness and an occasional lass to lay with. Stop acting like you deserve this woman, ’cause you don’t.”

  “Connor, if you’re done running your jib, I could use you at the front. I need you to open the side barn. We’ve got to store a wagon for a customer,” Duncan, Connor’s brother, hollered. Duncan not only rented out and sheltered horses, but also had a barn open for storage of about anything that could fit in there, for a fee.

  Connor placed his hand on Isaac’s shoulder and squeezed. “I know you think I carry on and that I don’t take life seriously. The thing is, I do; hence why I try to enjoy it and have fun as much as I can. I suggest you do the same before you end up behind bars again or, worse, hanging from the gallows.”

  Isaac thought about everything Connor said, and he listened to it with an open mind. Connor did convey wisdom and truths that resonated, but something stirred in him that he needed to explore. The one thing that Connor mentioned was this feeling of deserving Lucy. He did feel that way, and it all stemmed from him thinking he’d been cheated of a life with her. He hated to lose, and if he had a chance, though slim, he’d try to make a win out of this after all.

  WILKES RESIDENCE, BANE, NEVADA

  Before Isaac departed for the reception, he informed Mortimer of the event. Like him, Mortimer thought it was a good idea.

  Wearing a new suit he’d purchased along the train ride out to Elko and making sure he wore Travis’ gun belt with the Remington holstered, he arrived at Quincy’s front door.

  The door opened with Marcus on the other side of the threshold. “Sheriff, Mr. Wilkes is expecting you.”

  Isaac stepped in and asked, “Do you ever smile?”

  “He’s down the hall in the den,” Marcus said, motioning with his hand.

  Looking around, Isaac saw a handful of people gathered, enjoying drinks and mingling. He made his way into the den and scanned the faces.

  “Sheriff Travis!” Quincy howled happily.

  “You must be Mr. Wilkes?” Isaac asked.

  “That I am, and I can tell you, it’s not always fun being me,” Quincy joked. “So have you settled in
nicely?”

  “I have.”

  “Rumor says you’re staying with Mr. Corrigan, is that true?”

  “It is, he’s a most generous man,” Isaac said. “I have to ask why this event for me?”

  “I’m known for my generosity as it pertains to these sorts of things. I believe everyone of importance who is new to town should be welcomed with open arms.”

  “That’s mighty civil,” Isaac said. “Tell me, what’s your business in town?”

  “The question should be, what’s not my business in town?” Quincy laughed.

  “So you’re involved in many things?” Isaac asked.

  “Yes, sir, I am. I like to keep my investments diverse, as they say.” Quincy chuckled.

  “I suppose that’s smart. I for one am not keen on business. That’s why I went into law enforcement,” Isaac said.

  “Word is you’re from Texas. I don’t hear a twang,” Quincy said.

  “It comes after I’ve had a few drinks,” Isaac lied.

  Looking at Isaac’s empty hand, Quincy’s eyes widened. “Get this man a drink. I didn’t notice until just now that you didn’t have one. I so apologize. You’re the man being honored, and you don’t even have a drink to toast if we had one.” Quincy waved over a servant.

  The servant handed Isaac a whiskey.

  “Will that do?” Quincy asked.

  Taking the whiskey, Isaac replied, “It will. I’ve got a question, this might seem out of place, but how come Mr. Corrigan wasn’t invited?”

  Leaning in close so as not to be overheard, Quincy answered, “On account that he and I don’t see eye to eye on many things.”

  “You don’t get along?”

  “That’s the polite way of saying it,” Quincy said.

  “Have you done something to cause this fracture or strain in your relationship?” Isaac asked.

  Quincy scoffed and said, “You’ll soon come to find that Mr. Corrigan doesn’t know what he’s doing. It’s his incompetence that has caused issues between us due to the fact I call him on the carpet on such things.”

  Marcus stepped up to Quincy, leaned in, and whispered something in his ear.

  Quincy’s eyes widened like saucers. He whispered something back to Marcus, who turned and walked off.

  “Is everything okay?” Isaac asked.

  “Everything is fine, and when it’s not, it usually gets sorted out rather quickly,” Quincy answered. “Come, let me introduce you to other business owners in town.”

  Taking care and diligence, Quincy walked Isaac around the party, introducing him to everyone there. It was very helpful for Isaac; it enabled him to have a crash course on the who’s who in town. One thing he suspected was coming was the bribe, he knew it would come soon, so he patiently waited.

  ***

  After dinner, and a subsequent toast to the new sheriff, the party went back to the den to continue drinking and to gamble.

  “Do you gamble?” Quincy asked Isaac.

  “Every day,” Isaac replied.

  “Is poker your game?”

  “Life is,” Isaac answered.

  “Ha, I suppose as a lawman, you do gamble with your life daily. It’s too bad you don’t make the money that’s equal to the effort or risk,” Quincy said.

  And right there, Isaac knew the bribe was coming.

  “Sheriff Travis, if you have a moment, care to join me in my personal office for a cigar?” Quincy asked.

  “Sure.”

  The two left the den and marched to the office down the hall. Once inside, Quincy closed the double pocket doors and headed for a wooden box, which sat on the corner of his desk. He pulled out two cigars, handed one to Isaac, and said, “I have them brought in from San Francisco. They’re from the Dominican Republic.”

  Isaac held the unlit cigar to his nose; the rich aroma of the cigar smelled good. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a cigar from there.”

  “You’ll enjoy it,” Quincy said, offering Isaac a cutter and matches.

  It had been a while since Isaac had smoked a cigar, but he recalled how to prepare a cigar to smoke. He cut off the butt end and lit a match. He placed it under the tip and began to inhale. The flame danced around as it lit the end. Isaac kept inhaling in puffs until the entire end lit orange with each inhale. As the smoke swirled across his tongue, he was transported back to one of the last cigars he’d smoked. It was the day the war ended; Gerald had visited and brought with him a box of cigars, a bottle of whiskey, and a copy of the New York Herald newspaper, the headline reading LEE SURRENDERS, THE WAR IS OVER!

  “Sheriff?” Quincy asked.

  Snapping out of his daydream, Isaac said, “Sorry, I was lost deep in thought.”

  “I could see that,” Quincy said. “Have a seat. There’s something I wish to discuss.”

  The two men sat down, Isaac in an armed chair across from Quincy, who plopped into a large heavy upholstered chair.

  “I want us to be friends,” Quincy said.

  “So do I,” Isaac said.

  “I have many resources in town, a lot of men working for me. If you ever are in need of assistance, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Okay, I like that. Can I ask for some help now?” Isaac asked.

  Quincy sat up, his interest piqued. “Of course, anything.”

  “Who stole the silver shipment?”

  “I don’t know, but I have had my men looking into it since the sheriff’s office is undermanned,” Quincy said. “If I discover anything, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  “What about the smelter?”

  “Same answer. I just don’t know who would do such a thing. We need that smelter for the town’s success, and if the town is successful, then we all are.”

  “So all of your resources haven’t heard anything?” Isaac asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Fair enough,” Isaac said.

  “If I help you, could you possibly be available to help me?” Quincy asked.

  “Help? In what capacity could I help you?” Isaac asked.

  “All I’m saying, Sheriff, is if I help, are you willing to help me or my businesses if ever the need should arise.”

  “That depends, Mr. Wilkes.”

  “On what?” Quincy asked.

  “On what you’re asking me to help you with. I’m not one who likes to be indebted to anyone,” Isaac replied.

  “Sheriff Travis, I’m only saying that we should help each other. The world is a tough place. Life is easier when you have friends,” Quincy said.

  “Is that all you’re offering for my help?” Isaac asked, hoping to lead him.

  “Sheriff Travis, I would never presume to offer a man of the law money in exchange for favors,” Quincy answered.

  “Good, because I’d hate to embarrass you by turning down any offers. Listen, Mr. Wilkes, if you can help, I’ll always accept, but I’ll never make a blanket agreement. If you want to help me, you’re helping the town. I imagine you’d want to do that because you’re a generous man.”

  Quincy gave Isaac a toothy grin and said, “Good chat. How about we go back to your party?”

  “Good idea, and thank you for the whiskey,” Isaac said, getting up.

  The two went back to the party and never mentioned anything of their conversation again.

  CORRIGAN RESIDENCE, BANE, NEVADA

  Isaac entered the darkened house. The only light he saw was coming from the parlor. It could be a candle or even the coals of the fireplace. He gently closed the door and slowly walked down the hall, hoping he wouldn’t wake anyone.

  As he passed the parlor, he glanced inside but didn’t see anyone. Thankful that he wouldn’t have to discuss his evening, he proceeded towards his bedroom.

  “Sheriff Travis?” Mortimer asked from the parlor.

  Isaac stopped. He gritted his teeth and stepped back towards the parlor. He poked his head in and said, “Good evening.”

  “Please come sit. I wish to hear how the party went,” Morti
mer said.

  Isaac came into the room and walked to the wing-back chairs. There he found Mortimer slouched in the chair, a half-empty glass in his hand.

  “Sit, please,” Mortimer said.

  Isaac did as he requested.

  “So how was Mr. Wilkes?” Mortimer asked, his speech slurring a bit.

  “Going was valuable. I learned a lot.”

  “Like what? Do tell.”

  “It’s evident you and Mr. Wilkes don’t have a good relationship. Also he offered me a deal—”

  “He did? He tried to bribe you?” Mortimer asked, sitting up erect.

  “No, he didn’t bribe me. What he asked for was to exchange favors,” Isaac said.

  “No bribes? He didn’t try to pay you to work for him?” Mortimer asked, his tone sounding disappointed.

  “You sound upset,” Isaac said.

  “I thought he’d attempt to bribe you. I thought we had him,” Mortimer said.

  “He’s feeling me out. Give him time; he’ll try again,” Isaac said before yawning.

  “You should go get some rest,” Mortimer said.

  “I wanted to tell you that I’m hiring another twenty deputies,” Isaac said.

  “That many?”

  “I have plans for them all. I’m sending a team out to track down the stolen silver. I also need some to escort all shipments through the pass. I’m also doubling our presence on the streets.”

  Mortimer smiled.

  “I have an early day tomorrow,” Isaac said, getting to his feet.

  “Sheriff?” Mortimer asked.

  “Yes,” Isaac said.

  Mortimer paused. He looked at the glass in his hand as he swirled the brandy. “I never told you how I got this town.”

  “No. No, you didn’t,” Isaac said, not really caring to know. However, he knew he needed to give Mortimer the attention he wanted.

  “I’m always one to look for opportunities. I was at a cocktail party in New York. This man—he was highly intoxicated, by the way—made a fool of himself. Anyway, he was a friend of a friend, that sort of thing. He said he owned a town and a silver-mining company. I was immediately intrigued. As the night went on and the drunker he got, he told me everything about this town, said it produced a ton of silver every two weeks. He was incredibly proud, and I would be too. I was jealous, immensely jealous. I kept thinking how does a man own a town? Later on I saw him at the poker table. He was playing badly, very badly. He ran out of money; the house wouldn’t lend him any on account they didn’t know him. So I vouched. He was given more but proceeded to lose it quickly. He again asked for more money. The house told him no. He was furious. He felt he could win but just needed more money to do so. Again he came to me; somehow he thought we had rapport, probably because I asked him a lot of questions. People like to talk and be the center of attention,” Mortimer said. He took a drink from his glass and continued. “I told him that I would forward him the money, but he needed to play me. He was shocked by my request but accepted. I gave him the money, and we played and played and played. Before I knew it, the sun was rising and he was in debt to me for seventy thousand.”