“I’m not sure who’s feeding you such misinformation.” Steven crossed his arms, defiant. “But while we’re on the subject of exploding locomotives, you don’t happen to have a box or two of dynamite laying around wherever it is you happen to be staying, do you?”
Slick’s hand flew to the hilt of his six-shooter, but Scarface kept his cool, his outstretched hand and Archie’s shotgun all that kept his partner from gunning Steven down where he stood.
“Now, now, Clarence.” Scarface allowed himself a smile and even a quiet laugh. “Mr. Lacan asked us not to shoot up his fine drinking establishment, and I aim to comply.”
“Fine.” Clarence’s facile fingers slid from the grip of his revolver and into his pocket. “But you can’t stay in here forever.” He eyed Steven as a cobra might an injured rat.
“Okay, everybody. Cool down.” Niklaus raised his hands before his chest. “Clearly, there’s been a misunderstanding here. Nobody here wants to shoot anybody.” His eyes cut to Archie. “Maybe a round for all involved so we can talk about this?”
As Archie rested the shotgun on the bar and assembled a round of firewater, Clarence moved closer, his every shifting step a serpent’s advance. “Interesting accent,” he said. “What is that? Russian?”
“Polish.”
“Polish, huh? And what in the hell is a Polack doing this far west?” Clarence sneered. “You hop the wrong train or something?”
Niklaus’ hands balled into fists at his sides. “Something like that.”
“Never met a real-life Polack before. Tell me ab—”
“Clarence.” The quiet word from Scarface shut down the mocking mid-syllable. “That’s enough. We came here to settle things with Mr. Bauer and his friends, not to stir up more trouble.” He offered Niklaus what seemed a genuine smile. “I courted a Polish girl once. Sweetest smile I ever saw.”
“They don’t come any sweeter.” The White Rook’s muscular form slackened a bit. “I’m Niklaus.”
“My name is Earl.” He gave Niklaus a subtle nod. “So, listen close, Niklaus from Poland. A word of advice for you and your friend?” His gaze flitted to Steven. “Stick to your own business if you know what’s good for you.” He studied Niklaus and the others through bushy eyebrows. “Are we clear?”
“We’re clear,” Niklaus answered, his voice quiet.
“Crystal,” Steven added.
“That goes for all of you.” Earl turned his attention on Emilio, who had remained silent throughout the conversation. “Particularly those of you who might find yourself asking the right questions of the wrong people around town, got it?”
“Got it,” Emilio muttered, his gaze dropping to the floor.
Earl smiled. “No more nosing around, understand? Any more barking around about who might or might not be involved in this or that, and a dog might have to get put down.”
“I said I got it, didn’t I?” Emilio met Earl’s cold gaze.
“Just making sure we’re done with problems.” Earl wrapped his callused fingers around the whiskey Archie had prepared and motioned for Clarence to join him. “Bottoms up.”
“Barely watered down.” Clarence rested his glass back atop the bar and shot Archie a sarcastic grin. “Will wonders never cease?”
Archie slid into a forced smile and rested a hand on the shotgun. “Do you gentlemen require anything else?”
“No, sir.” Earl offered him an overly polite bow. “Though my partner and I have taken a liking to your little watering hole.” He turned for the door and motioned for Clarence to follow. “I suspect we’ll drop by again later, if that suits you, of course.”
“That’ll be just fine.” Archie returned the shotgun to its home beneath the bar. “Just fine, indeed.”
The pair were out the door before Archie dared say another word. The crowd, all of whom had watched as if ringside at a boxing match, immediately returned to their various conversations as if nothing had transpired.
Just another day in Wolf’s Bend.
Steven, Niklaus, and Emilio gathered close in one corner while Archie worked to keep the saloon’s clientele well lubricated with whiskey and beer.
“Well, that went well.” Niklaus eyed the door. “Though I would argue your assessment of the most likely suspects appears to have been pretty much on point.”
“I’m just glad no one got shot.” Steven turned to Emilio. “Are you okay? What the hell happened out there?”
“I’m fine.” Emilio shook his head. “I was just following up on a lead. Some of the cowhands had run across a pair of men holed up in one of Mr. Garringer’s barns north of town. I grabbed a horse and headed in that direction, but when I got there, they were already on horseback and waiting for me.”
“So, you hightailed it back here.”
“Two on one, Steven, and they had guns. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You did the right thing. They were all but ready to shoot us on the spot in front of a room full of spectators. Out on the open road, who knows what they might’ve done.”
“But I led them right back here.” Emilio’s head dropped. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, Emilio.” He clasped the younger man’s shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. They made it pretty clear when they got here that they knew exactly who I was. I don’t think you meeting them on the road—most likely on their way here—did much to change that.”
“And like you said, they knew you were coming.” Niklaus glanced again in the direction of the door. “None of this is good.”
Emilio shuddered, from the cold or otherwise, Steven wasn’t sure.
“Which leaves us with one question: How is that possible?” Steven searched the gazes of each of his friends. “Outside of the four of us, the only person we’ve discussed our suspicions with is Zed himself.”
“Don’t forget about his little harem.” Niklaus raised an eyebrow. “Any one of them could have blabbed, right?”
“They work for Zed, though, and seem as loyal as they come.” Steven’s gaze wandered among the crowd occupying the saloon, half of them refugees from the destroyed train. “Why would Zed or any of his people want to help the very people who just blew up their ticket east?”
“Unless…” Emilio considered his words. “What if Zed himself is the ‘old man’?”
“And all of this is just a way to get those two bandits to take us out.” Niklaus shook his head. “Wouldn’t be the first time Zed has tried to get rid of us without getting his hands dirty.”
“All I know is that something foul is going on here. So far, we’ve got a dead U.S. marshal, a blown-up train, a couple of thugs who seem to be getting insider information, and the literal king of all badness in the world a few blocks away.” Steven let out a sigh. “And somehow, yet again, we’re stuck in the middle of it.”
The remainder of the day passed, for the most part, without event. Steven and the rest of their quartet shared a meal at the back of the saloon as Archie worked the bar and kept the occasional disagreement among the patrons from spiraling out of control. They discussed everything under the sun, the firewater keeping the stories flowing deep into the evening. Well past sunset, however, they finally reached a point where there didn’t seem much else to say. With a quick salute, Emilio left to ride back out to Mr. Garringer’s ranch while Steven and Niklaus retired to Dottie’s for the night.
They’d barely had a chance to get out of their boots when a knock came at the door to their room.
“Who is it?” Steven asked, the usual edge in his voice diminished a bit by the whiskey.
“It’s me, Mr. Bauer,” came a timid voice. “Levi.”
Levi. The inn’s clerk.
“What do you need, Levi?”
“May I come in?”
“Sure.” Steven rebuckled his pants and stepped to the door. “Is something wrong?”
Steven had just turned the lock when a flurry of metallic wings sounded from the table where Amaryllis rested. Before Steven could take another
breath, the door burst open and Sheriff Post and Deputy Ndure rushed into the room.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bauer,” came a squeaky voice from behind the two lawmen. “The sheriff said I had to—”
“Shut up, Levi.” Post clamped a hand down on Steven’s shoulder. “Hello, Mr. Bauer. Busy evening?”
“What are you talking about?” Steven knew better than to try to resist. “Has something else happened?”
Deputy Ndure moved on Niklaus, his gun trained on Nik’s midsection. “Keep your hands where I can see them, Mr. Zamek. We need to ask you two a few questions.”
“A few questions?” Post let out a gruff laugh. “That’s one way of putting it.”
“What’s this all about?” Niklaus asked. “What is it you think we’ve done?”
“Like you don’t know.” Post raised a mocking eyebrow. “Fine. I’ve already found the pair of you standing over one dying man and let you walk. Now, the two gentlemen you had an argument with earlier today in front of the whole town has been found strung up in one of Cyrus Garringer’s barns.” Post yanked Steven toward him, bringing him so close, Steven could smell the moist tobacco tucked between his lip and gum. “I’m guessing you don’t know anything about that either.”
“We don’t.” Steven winced in Post’s vice-like grip. “We’ve been at the saloon for hours. We left maybe half an hour ago and came straight here.”
“You’re quick.” Post puffed out his chest. “I’ll give you that.” He cleared his throat. “Word on the street is you sent the Cruz boy out earlier today to scout out where these particular unfortunate souls were hanging their hats.” He gave Steven a firm shake, and any doubt that Post wasn’t a man to toy with evaporated on the spot. “Unless I’m misinformed.”
No sense in lying.
“We did send Emilio to investigate claims that two strangers were holed up in a barn north of town.” Steven sucked in a breath as the boring pain in his shoulder doubled under Post’s fingers. “He didn’t even make it there. The two men you’re asking about were already on the way to confront us in the saloon.”
“Which begs the question why two men you barely know were coming to find you, now doesn’t it? Not to mention what you two were doing ‘investigating’ anything in the first place.” Post’s tobacco breath made Steven gag. “Anyway, I’m not sure why you brought Cruz in on all this. He always seemed like a pretty good kid.”
“You have no idea.” Steven made the next logical leap. “Still, leave him out of this. He’s done nothing wrong.”
“Maybe, though that’s not exactly up to me, now is it?” Post’s expression shifted to a subtle smile of victory. “So, you admit these two men who had their necks stretched in the last few hours already had some sort of problem with you. Now they’re dead, and you two are talking out of both sides of your mouths.” Post’s grip relaxed slightly. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.”
Steven’s mind raced. Outside of their time-displaced quartet, the only people who knew anything about their suspicions of “Earl” and “Clarence” were Zed/Victor Brenin and his three traveling companions. He didn’t know much, but he understood all too well naming them would only make matters worse.
Three people were already dead, and Steven couldn’t risk that one of them might be next.
“What happens now?” Steven asked.
“Now? You two will be spending the evening in what passes for a jail in this town.” Ndure motioned for Niklaus to sit. “Get your boots on.”
Post pushed Steven down into a chair. “Something here smells rotten, boys, but lucky for you both, I still haven’t quite decided it’s the two of you.” He stepped back and handed Steven on of his boots. “In any case, you’re coming with us, and I’d advise you to comply.” Post’s voice dropped to a whisper. “There’s been quite enough bloodshed in Wolf’s Bend today already.”
22
Lock & Key
“Freezing my ass off in an 1890 root cellar in Nowhere, Wyoming?” Niklaus let out a bitter laugh. “Before today, not even an honorable mention on the list of worst places I thought I might end up.” He stood hunched between two rows of parallel log-constructed shelves, and munched on a turnip. The only illumination in the space came from a beam of pale moonlight eking its way through the crack between the double doors above his head. “I’ve got to say, though, it’s moving to the top with a bullet.”
“No pouch.” Steven’s chin dropped to his chest. “No dragonfly.” He fished the marble pawn from his pocket. “We may still have our icons, but they’re little more than paperweights unless we can find our way back to our own time.” He sat on a makeshift seat cobbled together from a pile of sweet potatoes, swearing under his breath to never again complain about the lumpy old recliner in his apartment back in Chicago. “I hate to say it, Nik, but we’re screwed.”
“We haven’t done anything.” Niklaus knelt down to meet Steven’s gaze. “Can’t we just tell Post and Ndure the truth?”
“Three murders have been committed since we hit town, Nik. I don’t know what we’d have to say to convince any lawman worth his salt that we’re innocent.”
“God only knows what happened to the Marshal,” Niklaus said, “but you and I both know Zed is behind the other two deaths.”
Steven sighed. “If we call out Zed and his squad of femme fatales, I’m pretty sure the body count will do nothing but climb.”
Niklaus considered for a moment. “The least they could have done was stick us in a stone and mortar cell with a barred window in the back. If I’m going to be thrown into an honest-to-god jail in the Old West, I want the real deal.” He took another bite from his turnip and threw it to Steven. “Instead, they’ve imprisoned us in the local produce section.”
Steven took a bite from the other side of the purple and white root. “Good lord, Nik, did you watch anything but Westerns when you were a kid?”
“What can I say? I love the Duke, though I’m pretty sure that even on his worst day, he’d never stick someone in a hole like this.” He peered around, his eyes squinted. “On the other hand, no sense complaining about the all-you-can-eat vegetarian buffet.” He swept his hand around the tiny space, his mischievous smile just visible in the dim. “If you like beets and rutabagas, this must be heaven.”
“Barred window or not, I guess we can rule out Emilio showing up with a team of horses and springing us.” Steven fell back on the pile of tubers and groaned. “How would he ever find us in this hole, anyway?”
“I found you.” The whispered feminine voice registered in Steven’s mind as familiar. “You two are as loud as elephants and about as subtle. Now, stand away from the door lest you be injured.”
“Audrey?” Steven’s heart swelled with hope.
“No. Ume.” The annoyance in her tone came through loud and clear. “Now, be quiet and let me concentrate.”
“Ume.” Steven stood, his legs tingling as if covered in ants, and huddled against the far wall with Niklaus.
“One of the sisters?” Niklaus asked.
“Yeah.” Steven stared up at the cellar door. “The no-nonsense one.”
“What do you think she’s planning to—”
A loud crack echoed in the cellar. Niklaus and Steven covered their faces as splintered wood rained down on them. At first, Steven wondered if Ume had fired a gun or possibly employed a small explosive?
The truth was far more impressive.
Barely visible in the pale light, a diminutive hand retreated through the new gaping hole in the door.
Ume had literally punched straight through two inches of solid wood.
“Like I said before.” Steven shook his head. “Zed has a type.”
The door opened upward, allowing in the shine of the full moon above. Silhouetted against the starry night sky, Ume stood in a loose-fitting embroidered tunic over pants, the entire ensemble rendered in deep hues the color of Malbec.
“You came here?” Steven squinted, the full moon above blinding him m
omentarily after hours in the near total darkness. “For us?”
“Are you not in the employ of Mr. Brenin?” Ume stepped away from the edge of the door. “Did you think he would leave you here to rot?”
“I suppose not.” Steven climbed out of the root cellar and helped Niklaus up. “Thanks.”
“No, Mr. Bauer. Thank you.” Ume gave Steven a subtle nod. “Your information proved not only accurate, but invaluable.”
“Wait.” Comprehension dawned on Steven. “It was you. You killed those men.”
“Sakura and I, actually.” Ume’s eyes shifted left and right. “Kiku is still in training, and, regardless of her skills, the messier side of our work is…not to her taste.”
“The sheriff thinks we did it,” Niklaus said. “We’re in big trouble because of you.”
“Mr. Brenin does not take threats to his life lightly, nor does he appreciate being inconvenienced. We ensured those men paid for their deeds, though our method of correcting the problem has clearly led to unfortunate consequences for the two of you. Thus, my presence here and now.” She smiled. “I would argue, however, that had you avoided a public confrontation with the two men in question, much of this unpleasantness might have been avoided.”
Steven bit back the sharp retort at the tip of his tongue. “Thank you, Ume.” He glanced up and down the snow-covered street. “So, what now?”
“Yeah.” Niklaus closed the cellar doors behind them. “Post sees us around town, we’re toast.”
“Toast? What an odd statement.” Ume stole to the side of a nearby building, her footfalls like autumn leaves falling to the ground, and motioned for Steven and Niklaus to follow. “Please understand. Those men left us no choice, and Mr. Brenin wanted us to leave a very clear message to anyone else in town who might assume a similar action would be tolerated. Unfortunately, our actions led to your banishment to that hole, and Mr. Brenin’s instructions notwithstanding, it was my duty to set that right.” Her eyes narrowed. “Consider our shared debt to you both expiated.”
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