Jake, Devils on Horseback, Book 2 (13 page)

The back door opened and Jake heard the low murmur of voices, but he was unable to make out anything they said. The door closed and the light went out minutes later. Since it was the middle of the night, Jake was suspicious as to what was going on. His gut instinct told him someone was involved in something dirty, either in their bed or in their pockets.

Jake had seen the lowest point to which human beings could sink and he didn’t doubt the good residents of Tanger were capable of anything. What had started out as a well-paying job had turned into another sour taste in his mouth. The sooner they finished, the better. However, without a whole lot to go on, and with so many unanswered questions, it seemed they’d be in Tanger for quite a while.

When he reached the mayor’s house, Jake crouched down by the white fence and sat completely still to the count of a thousand. When nothing stirred within the house, he jumped over the fence and crawled across the dew-covered grass. The slickness coated his hands and knees. As he approached the back door, he slid up the three steps, hoping to find it unlocked.

He wasn’t in luck. After wiping his hands on his trousers, he pulled the custom picks from his pocket. He’d carried them for many years and the cold metal felt comfortable in his hands. A few seconds later, the back door popped open. Again, Jake counted, this time to two hundred, before he pushed the door open. Fortunately, the hinges didn’t creak.

Jake left the door slightly ajar and committed his first crime in Tanger by entering the mayor’s house. The thrill of being a thief had faded long ago to be replaced by numbness. He’d done this so many times before, it wasn’t usually a challenge. However, it was more than that this time. The Devils were counting on him to find information, something they could use to find out exactly what was going on in Tanger.

The musty smell hit him first. He remembered being struck by the condition of Phineas’s house the first time he was in it. Jake explored the kitchen as best he could in the moonlight. Nothing seemed out of place or extraordinary. A half loaf of bread and a jar of honey sat on the table as if from a bedtime snack. He ran his finger along the bottom of the wooden sink, however all he found was a trace of water along with a plate and a knife. It had to have been at least three hours since anyone had been in the kitchen, which was a good sign.

Jake left the kitchen confident that he wouldn’t find anything of importance there. He crept down the hallway to the parlor where the Devils had met with the mayor. The same pervasive odor hung in the air. He kept an ear out for any unusual noises, but the house was deathly still.

He went straight toward Phineas’s desk, certain he’d find something there. It was covered with piles of papers, a pipe with tobacco spilling onto the scarred top, an inkwell and two pen nibs. Jake knew he’d have to look through each stack of papers. He picked up the first one and sat on the floor behind the desk.

After fifteen minutes, he’d gone through all the papers and found nothing of importance. He replaced everything exactly as he’d found it then started opening drawers. Frustration built inside him with every second that passed. The bottom drawer was locked.

A lick of excitement was followed by a grin. People locked up what they didn’t want others to find. Just a few seconds and the lock opened under his skilled ability. A ledger book, several telegrams and a half dozen letters were neatly stacked together in the back of the drawer. After studying where everything was placed, Jake took it all out and sat down again to read.

The letters were all addressed to Phineas from a young woman named Nelle. They were yellowed with age and hard to read in the meager light from the windows, but he didn’t dare light a lantern or even a match. Jake concluded they were long-lost love letters. Perhaps Phineas still pined for this Nelle.

Jake read the telegrams once, then again, absorbing the shocking contents. It appeared the good mayor of Tanger had been brokering some shady deals with the townspeople’s money. The ledger would hopefully tell him more.

A noise from upstairs made Jake freeze, the open ledger on his lap. A trickle of sweat rolled down his temple. The creak of wood and footsteps made his heart thump. Hopefully whoever was awake didn’t intend to come downstairs. Jake kept himself so still, his muscles cramped. After a few minutes, which felt like an hour, the creak resounded again and then the house was still.

Letting out a shaky breath, Jake then counted to a thousand twice before he moved. Reading as quickly as he could, Jake scribbled notes on a piece of paper he’d brought. The sound of the pencil scratching seemed unnaturally loud in the room. Wolcott’s record-keeping was immaculate and very detailed. He’d been taking money in small bits at a time and moving them into a single account. He wasn’t particular about who he stole from, or what their balance was. From the poorest to the wealthiest—which interestingly enough included Lucy from the saloon—each person with an account at the bank had been robbed.

Wolcott had made several large withdrawals over the last year. The ledger didn’t give details on exactly where the money was sent, but the telegrams did. It also told him the mayor lied about paying the Devils. There was almost no money left in Tanger’s bank. Unless Wolcott had money hidden in the house somewhere, the town was flat broke.

Jake set everything back in the drawer carefully then locked it again with one of his picks. He’d come to find information about Wolcott but he’d found much more than expected.

He locked the door on the way out. His mind whirled with the information he’d found and wished Gideon was there to help him sort it out. He leapt back over the fence and made his way back to the main street. Jake found Zeke on the steps of the store.

With a low hoot to signal Jake’s arrival, he waited for his friend to join him. A bit of tension eased from Jake’s shoulders as his friend approached.

“What is it?” Zeke whispered.

Jake shook his head and motioned for him to walk back home. “Not here.”

They walked back in silence, keeping their eyes and ears open. It took less than ten minutes to arrive back at their humble shack. Now Jake knew why it was so humble. After they got inside, Jake didn’t want to light a lantern in case there was anyone watching them.

“Tell me.” Zeke sat on the cot next to him.

“Wolcott’s a thief. He’s been embezzling money from the town for at least a year. From what I could see, there ain’t enough left in that bank to buy seed for even one cotton farm.” Jake waited for Zeke to absorb that information.

“Shit. Are you saying we’ve been working our asses off for some lousy food and this shitty shack?” Zeke punched the cot. “Son of a bitch. What else did you find?”

“I think he’s put the money away for himself somewhere in Kansas City. Near as I can tell, he planned on leaving town and having that pile of cash waiting for him.” Jake took out his notes. “Wolcott had some telegrams from a couple of banks and somebody named Natalie Gates. I think she’s his assistant or something. Hell, I don’t know, that’s why I wrote it all down. Gid needs to look at this.”

Jake had never felt stupider than he did at that moment. He was frustrated at his inability to put the puzzle pieces together.

“Yep, but he won’t be back for at least another day.” Zeke cursed a blue streak. “That fucking bastard Wolcott.”

Remembering all his experiences in Tanger, Jake considered whether or not he’d trade those memories in.

Gideon stretched as best he could in the cramped position. He and Lee had found evidence of a campfire and concluded it could be the raiders. A stash of canned food and hardtack sat beneath a pile of leaves under the trees. The number of impressions in the dirt by the remains of the fire was right—six people—and the location was close enough to attack the town then run. Currently the two Devils were hiding out ten yards from the site waiting for whoever had built the fire to come back. The rock formation was perfect cover, but it was not in the least bit comfortable.

The rain the evening before had washed away any tracks, but by the look of things this was the right spot. He wondered if anything was happening in town, and if Jake had found any information in the mayor’s house.

Lee scratched his back with the rock and frowned. “I sure as hell hope they come back soon. I’m mighty tired of waiting.”

“Me too.” Gideon looked out at the empty campsite. “Me too.”

The attack was more unexpected than the others because they struck in broad daylight. Gabby had just brought the mill up to full speed to test the repaired wheel when she heard the shots. She stopped putting wheat into the conveyor belt and listened. Hoots, hollers and screams split the air, punctuated by gunfire.

Gabby dropped the stalks and ran for the door, certain she could help this time. She was tired of always hiding. Besides, she could use a shotgun just as well as anyone else. Grabbing the weapon from beside the door, she jammed two shells into it and stepped outside into the sunshine.

At first she didn’t see anyone so she closed her eyes and listened. With a sinking sense of dread, she recognized one of the women screaming.

Allison.

Gabby took off running faster than she’d ever moved in her life. Her heart pumped so hard, she was afraid it would explode from fear and anger. Shotgun firmly in hand, she sprinted to the church to help her friend. By the time she got there, they’d already killed the good reverend. He lay bleeding on the dirt, his sightless eyes open in terror. Knowing she couldn’t help him, Gabby ran into their house and found chaos with chairs overturned, dishes smashed and furniture broken.

However, there was no sign of Allison. Blood splattered on the front door told a story Gabby didn’t want to hear. She stopped and listened again, and heard the raiders over near Cindy’s restaurant. Another scream told her Allison was still alive. For now.

She wished for a horse, but had to rely on her own two feet to get her where she needed to go. Sweat ran in rivers down her back as she gripped the shotgun with a slippery palm. Her breath came in short bursts but she kept on moving as fast as she could. Allison’s life might depend on it.

Gabby heard a different noise and didn’t stop to think much about what it was until she got close enough to see what was happening. It had been a rebel yell, a call in the war that had frightened more than a few Yankees. Now it was aimed at the raiders who dared to attack Tanger again.

The raiders were hunkered down in the alley next to the restaurant. It was the first time anyone had gotten a good look at the men. They wore dark clothes, blues, grays and blacks with wide-brimmed hats favored by the vaqueros. Neckerchiefs covered their faces, but even from a distance, Gabby could feel the malevolence in their gazes. Sweet Jesus.

Jake and Zeke, armed and dangerous, crouched behind the trees in the center of town. She saw Zeke trembling with fury and knew he was about to risk his life for Allison. Suddenly Gabby understood more than she had before. Jake and his friends were hired to do what they needed to, but they weren’t hired to care about the citizens of town. Clearly these men were more than money-grubbing gunslingers. Even she could see the marked difference between the five raiders holding an innocent young woman hostage and the two men ready to risk their lives to save her.

Gabby had to help but she didn’t know what to do.

“You let us go or we kill the girl,” one of the raiders called out.

“You let the girl go or we’ll kill
you
.” Zeke’s entire face was red with rage. His hands were clenched on the pistols so hard, Gabby saw whitened knuckles.

The raider laughed. “I don’t think you quite understand, Reb. She’s what we came for.”

Gabby would remember the next ten seconds for the rest of her life. Zeke came out from behind the tree with guns blazing. He hit two of the raiders before they could react. The one holding Allison stood, using her as a shield. Gabby screamed and ran toward them, shotgun cocked and ready. The knife slid across Allison’s throat so smoothly at first Gabby didn’t think she’d been hurt. Then red blossomed down her pretty yellow dress and she dropped to the ground.

Zeke’s howl made goose bumps rise on every bit of Gabby’s body. He ran toward them so fast, she barely made it two steps before he got to Allison. Zeke ripped off his shirt and pressed it to her neck, mindless of the men who were still shooting at him even as they mounted their horses.

“Zeke, look out!” Jake darted toward his friend, guns rapidly firing.

Gabby reached Allison and fell onto her knees in the dirt. Tears streamed down her face as she saw the life fade from her friend’s eyes. Zeke kept pressure on her neck, even as his shirt soaked with blood.

“Allison, oh sweet Jesus.” Gabby covered her mouth with one hand as the pain of losing her best friend nearly squeezed the life from her. Zeke turned his face to Gabby and the sincere, bottomless anguish in his brown eyes made her cry just that much harder. “She’s gone.”

Zeke shook his head and glanced back down at Allison. “God wouldn’t take such an angel.” A single tear slid down his dusty cheek.

Gabby choked on a sob and put her hand on his bare shoulder as she struggled with the grief, shock and anger that threatened to overwhelm her. From behind them, more gunfire rang out. A quick glance told her Elmer and Dr. Barham had pulled out their own weapons. Tanger was finally standing up for its own.

The tinkling of broken glass was the only warning before fire caught hold of the restaurant. The dry summer had served to make everything a tinderbox. The raiders obviously knew that because they’d thrown a lantern into Cindy’s and the dry wood drank in the hungry flames. As the bastards rode off into the afternoon sun, the town of Tanger raced to save itself from a fiery fate.

Gabby yanked at Zeke’s arm. “She’s gone, Mr. Blackwood. Please, you need to help us p-put out the fire.” Emotions battled within her, but she knew she had to help save the restaurant if she could.

Elmer ran to the pump beside the restaurant and threw a bucket under the water as it gushed out. Soon women and older men appeared from their hiding places to form a bucket brigade. Yet Zeke didn’t move.