The Accomplice (25 page)

Theison let out an impatient grumble as he reached for the flap of Doc’s jacket. “Let’s just get this over and done with. I don’t want to catch whatever the hell this poor bastard’s got.”

Doc struggled to take his next breath as his upper body drooped forward like a wilting stem. The moment the deputy’s hand reached into his jacket, however, Doc flew into motion like a trap that had been sprung.

Doc’s left hand snapped up to close tightly around Theison’s wrist. He then reached out with his right hand to snatch the gun from the deputy’s grasp. The bigger man was so surprised that Doc hadn’t fallen over that he barely noticed when he was relieved of his gun.

The other two deputies jumped back with a start when they saw Doc make his move. It took them a moment to comprehend what was happening, but the gun that was now in Doc’s possession was more than enough to get their minds on the business at hand.

Fuming as he backed away from Doc, Theison shouted, “Shoot this son of a bi—” His words were cut short when the butt of his own pistol was delivered straight into his mouth.

Doc’s arm snapped out like a spring to crack the gun’s handle flat against the deputy’s jaw. A dull crunch drifted through the air, followed by a muffled groan coming from beneath Theison’s bandanna.

Just as one of the other deputies took aim, Doc squeezed his trigger. Fire and thunder erupted from his barrel as lead flew through the air. Cambridge snarled in pain as he was twisted around like a top with blood spraying from his elbow.

Danny jumped away from his partner and fired back, only to take a chunk of meat from Theison’s rib cage. With his bandanna already soaked through with blood from the knock Doc had give him, Theison crumpled over to let out a violent string of profanities.

Even as more shots were fired at him, Doc stood rooted in his spot. He squinted through the dust and smoke churning through the air to try to pick out his next target. When he found what he was after, he snapped his arm out in a fluid, practiced motion and pulled his trigger. The gun bucked in his hand as it spat hot lead toward Cambridge. His bullet cut a messy path through the deputy’s hip and dropped him straight to the floor.

“Toss your guns,” Doc said to any of the men who would listen.

Theison was finally mad enough to push through his pain. Now that he could see straight again, he reached across his belly to draw a second gun that had been holstered under his jacket. “You’re dead, you skinny bastard!”

Doc took a quick look around at all of the deputies. Each of them was still trying to shoot him, so Doc pointed his gun at each in turn and pulled his trigger in a fluid rhythm. Like the bottles on Dr. Seegar’s fence, the deputies fell backward and dropped over as they rushed to find some cover. Thunder filled Doc’s ears and he was vaguely aware that the other men were firing back at him.

Even as the incoming bullets hissed past his ears, Doc never felt compelled to run or even duck. He simply looked for his next target, took his shot, and moved on. After spotting his own gun in Theison’s belt, Doc walked over to retrieve it.

Theison snarled through his bloody mask when he saw Doc lean toward him. He was set to fire point-blank at the dentist, but before his finger tightened around his trigger, the roar of Doc’s Colt filled the air. Hot lead punched the deputy square in the chest, and another round blazed a tunnel through his skull. He was dead before the back of his head hit the floor.

Now that he was using his own gun, Doc was firing his shots even quicker than before. His eyes were narrowed and seeking his next target as he straightened up to stand amid the swirling cloud of black smoke.

Cambridge fired a quick shot but caught a round in the chest, which put him down for good.

That only left one other man. Danny was bleeding from a wound in his arm, but that didn’t stop him from squeezing his trigger again and again. His ammunition had been spent in his initial, panicked frenzy, which left him with nothing but a series of metallic clicks as his hammer dropped upon one spent shell after another.

Doc walked slowly up to the last deputy. “Now I remember where I’ve seen you,” he said.

The other man was too busy looking at the bodies on the floor and the gun in Doc’s hand to do much of anything but mutter, “Jesus . . . Jesus Christ!”

“You boys are the ones who toss drunks out of the Alhambra,” Doc said. “That would mean you’re not really the law after all.”

“P-put the gun down,” Danny stammered.

“Or what? You’ll arrest me?” Doc shook his head and stepped back so he had the man in his sights. “Tell me what you were meant to do here, and I might consider allowing you to walk out of here.”

Although Danny wanted to hold his tongue, he was too rattled to even look Doc in the eyes. “We was supposed to . . . kill you.”

“I figured that much. Now tell me why.”

“Mr. Weeks . . . he said to make sure that Injun found you. Weeks arranged for all of this.”

“What else is on his mind?”

Danny’s eyes wobbled in their sockets as he fought to come up with something to say that would save his life. When he came up empty, tears started to well up and slide down his cheek.

“Toss that gun,” Doc said.

Danny let the empty weapon slip from his fingers.

“And any backup you might have.”

“I don’t have any others. I swear.”

Doc’s eyes narrowed as he cocked his head a bit to one side and sighted along the barrel of his gun.

Reflexively, Danny cowered and threw up his hands. “I swear to God, I don’t have any more guns. Please don’t kill me!”

Doc holstered his pistol and held out his hand. “Come on, now. Get up.”

At first, Danny seemed surprised that he was still drawing breath. Then, he took Doc’s hand and allowed himself to be hoisted onto his feet. “Y-you ain’t gonna kill me?”

“Not unless you’d prefer it that way.”

Danny shook his head so hard it almost twisted from the top of his neck.

“I want you to take me back to Weeks.”

The gratitude in Danny’s eyes started to fade and was soon replaced with confusion. “Huh? Why?”

“Just for a little chat. But first, you’re going to help me move these bodies somewhere a little less conspicuous.”

Weeks shot up from his chair in the back room of the St. Charles as if he’d been kicked toward the ceiling. “What the hell is this?” he snarled. “What’s he doing here?”

Doc walked into the room, accompanied by the man who’d been posing as a deputy.

“Answer me, Danny,” Weeks demanded.

The deputy patted the air and stopped where he was, allowing Doc to step forward. “He wanted to have a word with you, Mr. Weeks, that’s all.”

“Bullshit. Where’s Theison?”

“Theison’s gone. So’s Cambridge.”

Weeks looked nervously from Doc to Danny and back again. “What about Mays?”

“He can come visit me,” Doc said in a friendly tone. “When I turn myself in to Sheriff Hopper.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here?” Weeks asked.

“Simple. I think you’ve made a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

Doc nodded.

“What’s he talking about, Danny?” Weeks asked. “And where the fuck are those other two?”

“They made a mistake, too,” Doc said plainly. “And I defended myself.”

That brought Weeks’s eyes to Doc and kept them there. “You killed them?”

“Let’s not dwell on that. Instead, I’d like to talk about the future.”

“You ain’t got no future, Doc.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Doc said with a grin. “In fact, I see us both having one hell of a future . . . as co-owners of all the major saloons in town.”

Weeks was speechless. At least, he was for a few moments. He walked around his small desk and sat upon its edge. After studying Doc carefully, he smiled. “You want the same deal I offered Wayfinder? Unless you’re the owner of the Busted Flush, I don’t see how that would apply.”

“I may not be the owner, but I know Caleb well enough to steer him in a mutually beneficial direction.”

“And why should I listen to a damn word you’re saying? Especially since I’ve got men in this very room who’ll be glad to burn you down.”

Doc looked around and saw the other two gunmen sitting nearby. “If you think these men will fare any better than those supposed deputies, then by all means, give the order. But I don’t think that’s what you’re after. You want the Flush, and I can give it to you.”

Motioning for the gunmen to stay put, Weeks asked, “How, exactly?”

“We can arrange for you to win it, fair and square. Well,” Doc added, “at least as fair and square as we can afford to be.”

Weeks rubbed his chin thoughtfully and kept his eyes fixed on Doc. After a few quiet moments, he asked, “You talking about the game being held at the Alhambra next week?”

“That one’s as good as any. I’ll need some elbow room and a bit of time to talk him into it, but I should be able to swing it. Once Caleb thinks he’s weathered the storm you’ve sent his way, it shouldn’t be difficult to get him into that game. But for this to work, I’ll need someone else working with me in the game itself. It should be someone that Caleb already recognizes.”

“You have anyone in mind?”

Doc nodded. “Actually, I do.”

The front door to the Busted Flush came open, and a familiar, slender figure walked into the saloon.

“There you are, Doc!” Caleb said as he rushed forward to greet the dentist. “I went down to where they took the rest of the gamblers that were swept up, and you never showed. What the hell happened to you?”

“There was a bit of trouble,” Doc said. “And I’ll be more than happy to tell you about it over a drink.”

“How about you tell me before you start downing the whiskey?”

“Well, I was dragged into an empty building and lined up for execution by three of Weeks’s gun hands. I managed to get a gun from one of them and then kill a few to secure my escape. Now, how about that drink?”

Caleb’s mouth hung open, and it took a while for him to close it again. “Sure, Doc,” he said after a few seconds. “I think I’ll join you.”

As Caleb poured, Doc gave him a rundown of what happened after he was escorted out of the Flush. When he was done, he drained the glass in front of him and let out a slow, measured breath.

“Jesus,” Caleb said. “I didn’t have any idea those two would move so fast after leaving here.”

Doc let out a choppy laugh and said, “Believe me, I didn’t either. Did you manage to catch up to them since I’ve been gone?”

“Haven’t had the time, seeing as how I was busy trying to track you down for the last hour or so. But I’ll bet there’s going to be plenty of spare time in my future, since folks run out of here screaming about being cheated before the law comes stomping in! I knew I shouldn’t get too attached to all those profits this place has been pulling in.”

“I find it amusing how you can be so upset when I’m the one who was shot at this afternoon.”

“Yeah, well I’ve been shot at myself through all this. I’ve even had to sidestep a few knives along the way.”

“One knife, Caleb. No need for dramatics. Besides, we both knew something like this would be coming. Weeks did say that he would be coming after me as well as you. We just made the mistake of thinking he would stick to his own timetable.”

“Well, he can stuff that timetable up his ass. After all the shit that he’s pulled, Weeks can come and try to take my place from me if he wants it so bad.” Caleb looked at Doc with amazement. “How can you be so damn calm?”

“How can you not see how exciting this is?”

For a moment, Caleb didn’t know how to respond. Then, he gave the only response that seemed to fit. He started laughing. “So what took you so long in getting back, anyway?” he asked once he could catch his breath. “It’s been a few hours since those deputies came in here.”

“I paid a visit to Sheriff Hopper,” Doc replied. “It seems he didn’t have the first clue as to why men were getting tossed into his jailhouse. After taking down their names and giving them times to appear in that new courthouse everyone’s so excited about, he let them go.”

“But it wasn’t Hopper or any of his men that came to get you.”

“I went to him after I left Weeks. After all, it wouldn’t be too smart for me to walk back into Mays’s open arms, now would it?”

“I suppose not,” Caleb replied, still adjusting to the easy manner in which Doc talked about all of this. “So that means Ben Mays is the lawman in Weeks’s pocket.”

“Since Mays is the one who handed me over to my would-be executioners, I’d say that is a very sound conclusion. You see what I mean about things working out for the best?” Doc asked as he raised his glass.

“When did you mention that?”

“Somewhere along the line. The point is that we wanted to get that Wright fellow to help us figure out which lawman to trust, and that’s precisely what happened.”