The Angel's Devil (Savage Series)

by Lisa Rae

  They were just finishing saddling up their horses and tying their gear on when Wolfe rode into camp. “Is everyone ready to ride?”

  Diablo was in the back of the bunch and when no one was looking he turned his head and began throwing up violently, the sound of it caught Angel’s and a few other’s attention. “Are you alright?” Angel asked worried.

  While the rest of the outlaws climbed onto their horses, Wolfe rode over towards Angel and said, “Angel, I want you to ride next to me.”

  Then watching Diablo still doubled over Wolfe said, “Maybe you should sit this one out Diablo. You don’t look too good, and we can’t afford to have you hold us up while you stop to empty you stomach every mile or so.” The rest of the outlaws laughed.

  Pretending then to dry-heave, Diablo finally said, “Maybe your right. I think I got food poisoning or something.”

  “Well you just stay here and rest, There will be plenty more coaches full of gold,” Wolfe replied.

  Nodding his head, Diablo led his horse back towards the corral smiling while the rest of the outlaws rode out of camp.

  Wolfe noticed Angel looking over her shoulder in concern at Diablo and said, “Don’t worry, your man will be just fine. Right now I need you clear headed.”

  Snapping at Wolfe, Angel said, “He’s not my man. And my head is crystal clear!”

  Laughing at her denial of feelings for Diablo, Wolfe commented, “It better be. I’ve planned the perfect spot for you to take out the stage coach driver, and you better not let me down.”

  Thinking a silent prayer for the stage driver and his armed men, Angel replied, “Don’t worry, I’ll put him out of commission.”

  Many hours later the outlaws arrived at the spot Wolfe intended to stage the holdup. It consisted of a narrow passage surrounded by hills of thick forest and rocks. Each time he would pick a completely different place along the road to Cheyenne, just in case the law or a posse decided to try and ambush them.

  He instructed Roark and the rest of the outlaws on how he wanted them to handle it, then explaining how he and Angel would be high up on a ridge to take out the stage coach driver and shotgun rider.

  After thoroughly getting familiar with that particular stretch of dirt road, the outlaws picked out the best hiding places and took their positions while waiting for the sun to finish going down, and for the moon to rise above the Black Hills.

  Angel and Wolfe made their way up to the wooded ridge. After securing their horses back out of sight from the view below, Angel looked for the perfect position to shoot from.

  “As soon as the stage comes around that curve I want you to shoot the driver,” Wolfe ordered.

  “Not a problem,” Angel replied as she relaxed back against a downed tree and pulled her Stetson down over her eyes in an appearance of taking a nap.

  “The Treasure Coach may not be due through here till after midnight, but we still need to keep watch,” Wolfe said with irritation at Angel’s actions.

  “Then keep watch!” Angel snorted off to him, not raising her head an inch, or giving him the satisfaction of controlling her every movement.

  Riled up, Wolfe was about to give her an earful about who was in charge when he spotted a lone rider coming their way headed for Deadwood. “Looks like we got some company riding through,” he commented.

  Interested, Angel sat up and looked over the ridge to the dirt road below. It was getting dark, but Angel could still see well enough to recognize the rider and his big bay stallion. The man had long black hair tied back in a ponytail under his old Stetson hat, and wore his Colt tied low. It had been many months since she had seen him, but she’d know him anywhere. “Ah it’s just someone traveling to Deadwood,” Angel said, not showing any signs of recognition as she leaned back against the downed tree again and tipped her hat back over her eyes.

  * * *

  Tying his horse up outside the corral, Diablo walked to the mine entrance once the outlaw gang was gone. Stepping just inside the entrance he found an oil lamp hanging. Striking a lucifer on the rock wall, he lit the lamp and turned up the flame to illuminate the tunnel. As he walked down the tunnel he wondered why if Wolfe owned this prospering gold mine, would he still take the risk of robbing the gold stages? But when he turned the corner in the tunnel and saw the end of the tunnel up ahead, he knew the answer . . . There were no veins of gold.

  The mine was full of gold though, as Roark and he expected it to be. Bagged up in the back corner was an enormous pile of sacks, full of gold nuggets and dust from the Treasure Coach stages. After robbing the stages, Wolfe was hiding the gold in the mine. He couldn’t have found a better hiding place. If anyone saw him carry some of the gold out of the mine, they would just assume it came from his mine.

  Looking around, Diablo found what else he was looking for. Dynamite! Two crates sat stacked off to his left side. Setting the lantern down, he opened the top crate and grabbed a huge handful of sticks out of the box. Diablo then picked the lantern back up and headed out of the mine, hanging the lantern back where he found it, and blowing out the flame.

  After putting the dynamite into his saddlebags, he climbed onto his horse and headed to town. So far everything was falling into place, just as Roark and he had planned . . .

  When Diablo arrived at Deadwood he avoided the main street, and went through a back street and alley until he came up to the back door of the assayer’s office. Knocking lightly, he waited patiently for McKnight to answer.

  “Yes?” McKnight said as he opened the door.

  “Are you alone?” Diablo asked with his Colt aimed at McKnight’s midsection.

  Nervously, McKnight answered, “Ye . . . yes.” Seeing Diablo with his iron drawn and aimed at him, he thought the gang decided to rob him instead of waiting for the stage that carried the gold to Cheyenne. Stepping back a few steps to allow room for Diablo to enter, McKnight raised both of his hands.

  Putting his Colt back into his holster Diablo said, “You can put your hands down. I’m not robbing you. I just needed to make sure I had your full attention.”

  “Well you . . . got it,” McKnight stuttered nervously as he slowly lowered his hands, and avoided looking in any other direction but right at Diablo.

  “Good. Now I need you to stop the Treasure Coach from leaving tonight so it doesn’t get robbed and get many more innocent men killed.” Diablo ordered.

  Before McKnight could reply, a tall, extremely tanned skinned man spoke from behind Diablo, “And how do you know that stage will be robbed tonight?”

  Whirling around, Diablo started to draw his iron when he saw the man with a U.S. Marshal’s badge on. The marshal already had his Colt aimed at him with the hammer pulled back. Raising his hands now Diablo said, “Easy there with that. I’m on your side!”

  “I’ll make that decision,” the U.S. Marshal, who had long black hair, replied coolly.

  Still holding up his hands Diablo asked, “May you and I please speak in private regarding the gold shipment?” He was actually relieved to see the marshal. Roark and Diablo had decided to take a chance and trust in McKnight, but they were not positive that he wasn’t involved in the robberies at some level, considering he played poker with Brook, and occasionally Wolfe.

  Still holding his aim on Diablo, the marshal told the assayer, “Take a little walk Mr. McKnight, while I get acquainted with Mr. . . .”

  “Diablo.”

  “Diablo, as in El Diablo?” The marshal asked.

  “Yes, and I am helping Roark and Angel,” Diablo replied.

  “How so?” The U.S. Marshal asked, not questioning who Roark or Angel was. Meaning he knew both of them.

  Once Diablo started explaining to the marshal all the details of what had happened so far, the marshal put his Colt back in its holster and asked, “So you’re telling me that the whole gang is set up waiting to ambush tonight’s shipment?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. The only reason I’m not with them is because when it was time to le
ave, I gagged myself when no one was looking to make myself throw up, in hopes that Wolfe would think I was too sick to ride,” Diablo explained.

  “Then you need to get back to camp before any of them return and know you’ve gone anywhere,” commented the marshal.

  “That was my plan,” replied Diablo.

  “Okay, here’s what I want you to do . . .” said the U.S. Marshal. When he finished explaining his plan he then said, “Go see the Doc for a little bottle of ipecac to put in your pocket. As soon as you hear the outlaws returning, drink some of it to make yourself throw up again, and to help make you look sick. It would probably be a good idea to eat a good meal in the meantime, that way you’re not puking up stomach acid.”

  “Good idea, thanks. Last things I want is for Wolfe to get suspicious,” Diablo said as he headed for the back door to leave the way he came in.

  After Diablo left, the U.S. Marshal went in search of McKnight and found him in the café ordering a piece of pie. Asking to join the assayer, the marshal ordered himself some supper from Aunt Lou and proceeded to tell him what he wanted him to do.

  “I’m canceling all shipments of gold for right now. Diablo just verified all the stuff you told me to be true. I will be opening an ‘official’ investigation into the missing gold and will want to interview all of your regular clients that bring their gold to you, starting with Mr. Brook,” the marshal told him.

  “Yes sir,” McKnight replied, and then he said, “We just telegraphed the U.S. Marshal’s office in Cheyenne about all this, and they said they would send another marshal. There’s no way you’re the marshal they referred to, but they didn’t mention that you was already on your way too.”

  “That’s because the Cheyenne office didn’t know I was on my way here. I came straight from the Denver office,” the marshal answered without more explanation. Not even telling the man who Angel and Roark really were. It was too big of a risk, if word got out.

  * * *

  Midnight came and went many hours ago in Deadwood with the normal loud saloon activity of a gold mining town. A couple hours ride out of town where the Treasure Coach Gang was holding up, waiting to ambush the stage, Wolfe and his gang were getting restless.

  Angel had already guessed why the stage had not come through yet, but she wasn’t about to let on that she knew. Instead she pretended to be impatient and complained to Wolfe, “Where is this stage full of gold you promised?”

  “I don’t know. It should of already been here by now,” Wolfe replied worriedly.

  Fishing for information, Angel took a guess and said, “It looks to me that McKnight lied to you about when the next shipment was leaving for Cheyenne.”

  Before he realized what he said, Wolfe snapped back saying, “McKnight isn’t who tells me about the shipments.”

  “Well whoever it is lied to you!” Angel snapped back, trying now to push Wolfe into saying who his informant was.

  “No, my brother is too dumb to lie to me.” Wolfe said, as he fell right into Angel’s trap.

  Playing him some more she asked, “I didn’t think your brother knew anything about your involvement in the gold robberies?”

  “He doesn’t know anything. I asked him to keep me up on the latest gossip in town, and since him and McKnight are close friends, he learns about the shipments from him.”

  Having learned what she wanted to know Angel commented, “Well we’ve waited here all night. The stage is obviously not coming, so why don’t we go on back to camp?”

  Nervously wondering what happened to stop the gold shipment, Wolfe agreed, “Yea, let’s head back and make sure everything is okay back at the mine.” Then a thought crossed his mind . . . Diablo! Had he been pretending to be sick? Did he have something to do with the stage not running to Cheyenne?

  Chapter 12

  Angel watched Wolfe closely on the way back to the mining camp. She could tell he was getting anxious and nervous with worry as the closer they got the more he looked around and over his shoulder.

  “If that man of yours double crossed me, I’m going to hunt him down and make him suffer a slow painful death!” Wolfe said angrily.

  “I’ve told you before, he’s not my man!” Angel said irritably. She herself wondered if Diablo had done something to stop the Treasure Coach from running to Cheyenne last night. If so, he signed his own death warrant with Wolfe.

  Angel prayed Diablo was back at camp sick as a dog. Not that she wanted to see him that sick, but her heart was up in her throat at the thought of Wolfe killing him too. Wolfe had already killed too many people she had loved.

  Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Angel commented to Wolfe, “He looked sick to me when we left. You yourself saw him throw up. I bet we’ll find him stretched out on his bunk.”

  Wolfe didn’t say anymore about Diablo as they neared the camp, but he did order some of his men to ride in ahead of him to check the place out and make sure there wasn’t any surprise attacks. He also ordered Angel to stay riding right beside him.

  The good news was Roark and Angel now had enough evidence against Wolfe to know he was the leader of the gang, and that they were the ‘Treasure Coach Gang’. Now it was just a matter of being able to arrest the whole gang without getting shot, or letting some of them get away.

  Diablo kept watch all night from the porch of his mining shack for the outlaw gang to return, he did not want to be caught unaware. He knew he would only have a few seconds to drink some of the ipecac. The question he forgot to ask the doctor was how much of the bottle should he drink? It wasn’t a very big bottle, but he was sure he shouldn’t drink it all.

  It was a couple hours after sunrise when he saw the gang approaching off in the distance. He hurriedly took a swig of the ipecac and shoved the small bottle down in his pocket. Time to put on a good show he thought. He knew Wolfe and the gang was going to be in a sour mood after waiting all night for a stage that never showed.

  When Angel and Wolfe rode into camp, Diablo’s horse was unsaddled and in the corral. The gang could see him leaning back asleep in a chair on the shack porch down on the far end.

  “Diablo!” Wolfe hollered with anger still in his voice.

  Diablo, acting startled, pretended to wake up to the yelling of his name and walked over to the gang still mounted on their horses. “Did something go wrong boss?” he asked innocently, hoping the ipecac hurried up and kicked in, knowing Wolfe was not in a good mood.

  “Where have you been all night?” Wolfe asked accusingly.

  “Why right here! I’ve been doubled over throwing up half the night,” Diablo answered him.

  “The gold stage never came through last night, and I think you had something to do with it. I think you’re pretending to be sick.”

  “I ain’t pretending nothin’!” Diablo said in irritation as he held his hand out to his side ready to draw his iron at the first sign that it was going to go south.

  Wolfe and Diablo were staring each other down. Wolfe didn’t want to lose face in front of his men, but he knew better than to try and draw against a notorious gunslinger like Diablo.

  As Wolfe was deciding what to say next, Diablo started to look extremely ill. Next thing he knew he was doubled over throwing up some of the food he had ate during the night while waiting for the gang to return.

  When Wolfe saw this, he turned his horse and rode to the corral to unsaddle. He was now convinced that Diablo had no involvement in why the stage was canceled. The rest of the gang, except Angel and Roark, followed him to the corral.

  “Are you alright?” Angel asked concerned.

  Holding his stomach, Diablo stood back up straight and grinned at Roark before he said, “Think he bought it?”

  Laughing, Roark replied, “Hell, I bought it!”

  Looking back and forth between the two of them she asked, “Okay, what’s goin’ on?”

  “I’ll fill you both in shortly, but you first better go put your horses in the corral and mingle with the gang, while I go to lie do
wn because I am ‘sick’,” Diablo said with a little laugh.

  After unsaddling their horses, the gang started a fire and cooked up a large breakfast. Later with their bellies full, they started to drift off to their bunks for a well needed nap after staying awake all night.

  Once everyone had eaten, and Wolfe had left to go back to his brother and his ranch house, Angel and Roark went to their shack they shared with Diablo to find out what information he had to tell them.

  Diablo waited till they were relaxed on their bunks before he started talking, “I checked the mine and you was right Roark. All the gold they have been stealing is in the mine. As a matter of fact, it’s the only gold in that mine and the mine don’t go very far back.”

  “Sounds like Wolfe planned ahead, and dug it only to have a place to say the gold was coming from so he could easily have his brother sell it,” Angel commented.

  “The question is, does Brook know that the gold he is selling is stolen.” Roark asked.

  “No, early this morning when the stage still hadn’t showed, I goaded it out of Wolfe when I told him his informant lied to him. He told me his brother didn’t know anything. That he had Brook learn the latest gossip when in town, so that he could come home and tell Wolfe. Apparently McKnight tells Brook about the shipments even though he’s not suppose to tell anyone,” Angel said.

  “Well after I got done in the mine, I went to town to see McKnight to tell him to stop the shipment like me and Roark had planned. I knocked on the back door of his office, and when he let me in, I met a U.S. Marshal that was already in there. I didn’t get his name but we talked in private, and when I told him I was helping the two of you, it was obvious he knew who both of you were,” Diablo explained.

  “Yes, we know him. We saw him ride through while we were waiting for the stage,” Angel replied.

  “I filled him in on everything I knew and how I got out of going on the holdup. He ordered McKnight to cancel all shipments for now,” Diablo finished telling them.