Keeper of the Books (Keeper of the Books, Book 1) (3 page)

“Well, you know what I already told you,” Amos said.
 

“Tell me again,” Levi demanded, standing from the desk. He walked to the other side of the room and peered out the window. He watched as Sheriff Marston made eyes with one of the prostitutes on her way to the saloon. This town was full of scum.

“The four of us walked into the bank,” Amos said. “Me and Joe guarded the entrance while Ralph and Stew gave orders to the bank teller.”

“Who shot him?” Levi asked as if it mattered.
 

“Ralph, I think.”

Sure he did.
Levi knew to take anything Amos said with a grain of salt. As far as the truth was concerned, any of the men could have shot the bank teller. According to the reports, they went in, shooting their pistols into the ceiling like madmen. Doing so was a smart move, probably Nathaniel’s idea in case they did kill someone. Counting their bullets wasn’t an option when they did that, so there was no way to point the finger at the murderer.
 

The witnesses at the bank were questioned individually and every one of them had a different tale for how things happened. By the end of the interviews, each of the four thieves had been fingered for the shooting that killed the bank teller. So, unless there was a confession of guilt, there would be no proof of who did it. But again, it didn’t matter. Each of them was as guilty as the next. And each of them would face justice. That is, if Levi found any of them. All he had was the runt of the litter, Amos. Killing him would hardly satisfy the need for justice in this instance. The man seemed stupid and he was scared to death. That didn’t mean Levi felt any sympathy for him. In fact, it made things worse. Someone so dumb should’ve stayed away from scoundrels like the Cole brothers. Amos should have been a ranch hand or even Marston’s deputy. He would have fit that role just fine.

“Anyways,” Amos continued, “the four of us finally got to the back room where the safety deposit boxes were kept. Joe got it opened. All of us were surprised to see nothin’ but a book in it. I thought there would be diamonds or cash. But it was just a book. Joe was about to open it when Ralph snatched it from his hands. He was mad. Madder than I ever seen him. Stew stood next to him, and they opened the book and looked at it for a good five seconds or so. Then they just vanished.”

“But that makes no sense,” Levi said, stepping away from the window, blowing out a puff of smoke that seemed to hang in the air like a thick cloud. He clenched his teeth as he moved toward Amos. “People don’t just disappear.”

“These two did,” Amos said. “I swear it. Their faces were drawn to the book like some rope was pulling them in. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“What happened then?”

“Joe grabbed the book and ran. I chased after him. When we got outside, Sheriff Marston was coming after us. Joe got on his horse and took off.”

“Leaving you behind.”

“I had my own horse, but Marston shot it as I was getting on. That’s when I seen you run out into the street.”

Levi listened to the story, hoping there was some clue about what could have
actually
happened today, but Amos fed him the same account almost verbatim. Either this was a rehearsed story, or he was telling the truth. There was no way he was making this up on the spot. Witnesses saw four robbers enter the bank, and two of them leave through the only available exit.
 

Levi’s search for the Cole brothers had brought him to the town a few days before. He knew he was close, but he didn’t know he was
that
close. A thorough search of the bank showed no indication of any other way for the robbers to get out, yet it was empty of the missing thieves. Ralph and Stewart were gone. So, the theory of the magic book lined up. Except, of course, for the fact that magic books didn’t exist and that it’s impossible for anyone to just…
disappear.
There was a hole in all of this and Levi intended to find out what it was. Amos wasn’t going to provide good answers because the others probably didn’t trust him with the facts. Levi thought it was also possible that this operation was a good way for the outfit to get rid of Amos for good. It was hard to tell. It would seem that people like the Cole brothers would just kill Amos if they didn’t want him in their group anymore. That or pay him off.

The part about Joe and Amos seeing Levi in the street was true as well. Levi had even shot at Joe as he took off on his horse, but he wasn’t about to go after him. Levi was a fairly cautious man who knew when to chase and when not to. He didn’t know if there were others planted out along the road to take aim at anyone who pursued Joe. Not to mention that Levi wouldn’t have had any backup. Chasing after Joe on the spur of the moment could have gotten him killed. Now, had Amos not been shot off his horse, Levi might have considered otherwise. But as it stood, he had a prisoner who knew information, which gave Levi time to formulate a plan.

“Tell me about your employer,” Levi said.
 

“I thought you knew all about Nate,” he answered.
 

Levi sighed. “The man who hired Nate and the rest of you. Who is he?”

“Tyler Montgomery. I never actually met him.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“I know where we was supposed to deliver the book,” Amos said.
 

Levi’s heart gave a sudden jolt. Why hadn’t he asked that question before? “Where?”

“Northrup Valley,” Amos said. “About ten miles north of here.”

Levi cursed in his mind. They could have been halfway there by now. He had gotten caught up in asking a bunch of questions when he should have been out riding. He grabbed Marston’s keys off the desk and walked up next to Amos. The man rubbed at his wrist when he was freed and his eyes set on Levi’s gun that hung at his belt. He wondered if Amos was truly stupid enough to try and grab it. Just a flinch in the wrong direction and Amos would have a bullet through his heart. But it seemed that reason found a home somewhere in Amos’ mind because he kept his hands in his lap until Levi ordered him to get up.
 

“We going to the hideout?” he asked.
 

Levi shook his head as he opened the door to the front porch. “Change of plans,” he said. “Nathaniel and Joseph are certainly on their way to meet with Mr. Montgomery. You’re going to take me to the meeting.”

“Can I get a gun then?” Amos asked. “I don’t like to go to these things unarmed. It’s dangerous.”

Levi walked out onto the porch and turned to look at Amos with a lifted eyebrow. He decided the question didn’t warrant a verbal response, and suddenly wondered whether it was a good idea to bring Amos along. Levi started toward his horse, but stopped short when he looked out into the street and saw Sheriff Marston holding a small boy by the collar. The child couldn’t have been more than five.

“You tell yer daddy if he don’t brang the money by tomorrow, I’ll split his head open with a hammer!”

“Yes sir!”

Marston reared his hand back and slapped the boy in the face two or three times. The boy fell in the dirt and started crying.
 

“Ah, git up!”
 

Marston kicked the boy in the side once, and started to do so again when Levi had about all he could take.

“Sheriff Marston!” Levi yelled out. Marston turned sharply and the boy scrambled to his feet and ran away. “I’m taking your prisoner with me. He’s going to lead me to the others.”

Marston took a few steps forward. “I’m goin’ with you.”

“No, you’re not.” Levi couldn’t imagine letting Sheriff Marston ride alongside them. Just one morning with him had been far too much. The rest of the day would be unbearable. He looked down the street at the boy who was still running away, wiping tears from his face.
 

“He’s my prisoner! I found him!”

“Who was that boy?” Levi asked.
 

Marston waved a hand in the air. “Ah, don’t worry about him. He’s just some trash whose daddy owes me money.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, if yer goin’ up against the Cole brothers then yer goin’ to need all the guns you can git.”

Marston had a point. Sort of. Levi was confident in his ability to survive a gunfight, but Marston might provide a good distraction. If anything, he might be able to draw gunfire in his direction while Levi picked off any opposition.

“Fine,” Levi finally said. “Bring a horse for Amos. We’re already running behind.”

Sheriff Marston didn’t like the idea of letting Amos ride with them without any bonds. Levi didn’t have an opinion on the matter. He knew if he kept at least five feet away and let Amos take the lead there wouldn’t be any trouble. Levi had already checked him for weapons. The most Amos could do would be to take off at a gallop. With a pair of Colt revolvers at his belt, Levi knew Amos would get maybe twenty feet away before he was shot dead. But he let Marston have his way and now Amos rode ahead of them, bound in chains at his wrists.
 

Marston rode next to Levi as they moved toward Northrup Valley in a steady trot. He picked at his teeth, spitting every couple of seconds. Levi tried to move ahead of him several times, but Marston always caught up. What bothered Levi more than the spitting and teeth-picking was Marston’s incessant need to talk. He gabbed more than anyone he had ever encountered. If the sheriff wasn’t talking about gambling, he talked about whiskey. If he wasn’t talking about whiskey, he talked about public executions. This was apparently Marston’s favorite subject. He described past hangings in detail, giving Amos a glance every now and then to see if he was listening. If Amos felt any concern about the tale of bulging eyes and men’s faces that turned beet red before they died, he didn’t show it. No doubt Amos was confident he had already escaped such a fate. After all, he was helping a bounty hunter—one who had promised he would go free.
 

“Course, they turn to a grayish-purple once they’re dead,” Marston said with a grin. “Strange to see their limbs kickin’ and then suddenly go stiff.” He let out a loud cackle.
 

Levi wanted to hang
him.
He already knew what a hanging looked like. He had seen plenty of them. That didn’t mean he enjoyed them. He
did
enjoy the fact that justice had been served, but nobody liked to see a soul leave a body. Well, most people didn’t. Marston seemed giddy by the idea.

“These boys are pretty dangerous,” Marston said. “We got enough ammunition to take them on?”

“A fight is about more than bullets,” Levi said. He looked toward the sheriff briefly. “Sometimes it’s dynamite too.”

“Dynamite?”

Levi smiled and patted the side of his saddle. “Sometimes a loud explosion is enough to bring them out with their hands up. Sometimes it’s enough to blow them to smithereens if that’s what it takes.”

“I ain’t never blowed up dynamite before,” the sheriff said.
 

Levi shook his head. It was time to change the subject before Marston got too excited about the idea of loud, decimating explosions. “You run an awfully poor town, Marston,” he said. “How do they pay you for your services?” It was an indirect way of asking who that little boy in the street was. Marston had mentioned something about his father owing him money.

“I don’t git much pay from keepin’ the law,” Marston answered. His yellow and gray teeth showed as he grinned at Marston. “In fact, I git more money jus’ lettin’ things be.”

Levi raised an eyebrow at this.

“Particularly from the whores,” Marston continued. “I don’t know about where yer from, but prostitution ain’t legal round here. But, if they give me a cut of their profits, I agree to look the other way.”

Levi wished he felt shocked. He wished that such information would spark such a rage in him that he would feel the need to write a letter to some high ranking official. But there would never be an investigation, much less a prosecution. The government didn’t care much about these little border towns. It would be a waste of time and money to look into the petty crimes of a small town in West Texas. Not to mention that this was one little town of many that operated in the same manner.
 

“So that boy you were slapping around,” Levi said. “What’s his story?”

“I felt bad hittin’ the little tyke,” Marston said, though he was still smiling. “His daddy owes me money. He lost to me in a game of poker and bet more than he had. I agreed to give him time, but his time’s up. I told him his debts would be fergiven if his wife worked in the saloon.”

“As a server?” Levi asked.
 

“I guess you could call it that,” Marston smirked. “She’s a mighty fine woman. She’d fetch me a good profit every night.”

Levi’s jaw clenched tightly. He had to keep himself from reaching for his pistol. Marston was dirt. No he was lower than dirt. Why anyone would elect him as sheriff made no sense unless the elections were rigged. And the more Levi thought about it, the more he supposed that was the case. There probably weren’t even elections in that crummy town. Marston probably just claimed the office and the people accepted it out of ignorance or perhaps indifference.

Levi’s stare was fixed straight ahead. The air was starting to feel a bit cooler as the sun continued on its downward path. For the next hour or so, Marston continued to talk, but Levi didn’t even give a grunt of acknowledgement. The badge on Marston’s vest obviously meant nothing to him. Levi even wondered if Marston might have killed the real sheriff and stole the badge from him.
 

He tried to shake away his thoughts when Amos finally declared that they would be at the meeting point soon. He told Levi that he was going to lead them in through the south along the dusty ridge so they could see the meeting point and remain out of sight. Marston was quick to point out that Amos might be leading them into a trap, fully within earshot of Amos. But Levi didn’t think so. Amos liked the idea of amnesty more than he did the idea of a failed escape. Besides, Levi wasn’t so sure Amos was confident the others would even want him back. Leading the sheriff and bounty hunter safely to the meeting point was his best bet as far as he knew.