Chapter 15
“What brings you fine fellows to my office today?” the sheriff asked, leaning back in his seat behind his desk.
He didn’t offer them seats. Perhaps it was because there were only two chairs in front of his desk and three of them. It could be considered rude, Kyle supposed, for one of them to have to stand. More likely, the sheriff didn’t invite folks to sit because he didn’t want them to stay long.
“We think there might be a plot afoot,” Michael said.
Then, in his most succinct manner, he told the sheriff everything they had found out in Cherryville and at Chrissie’s farm.
He told the sheriff how the bandits were holed up at the farm, how they had threatened the entire town, and how people were scared and in need of help.
He explained everything in great detail, including the impending threat on Grunnersberg.
When he was done, the sheriff sat back and drew in a deep, long breath. “And you obviously have proof to back all of this up?”
Michael looked at him with a deadpan face and shook his head.
Kyle wished his friend was good at lying, but the truth was none of them were.
Warren thought it a waste of time, it would never enter Michael’s head, and Kyle couldn’t live with the guilt.
But this was obviously where they lost the sheriff and his help.
“In that case, good day, gentlemen,” Sheriff Butler said. “It’s a great story, but that’s all it is. I can’t go throwing my weight around in another sheriff’s territory without an invitation. That doesn’t seem likely to come, now, does it?”
“And if we had proof?” Kyle asked. Not that he had any idea where he would get some. The idea of letting Alice down, of not getting Chrissie the help she needed, was too much for him. He’d promised her, and he meant to deliver. He needed to find a way to salvage what he could from this meeting.
“Then I might be able to do something,” the sheriff said. “You understand, there are rules. If sheriffs went around working in each other’s towns without being asked, well, it would all be a huge mess.”
“But what if the sheriff isn’t in a position to ask for help?” Kyle asked. “Then what?”
“Then I would need proof of that or an invitation from a citizen of that town,” he said. “Now I’m quite busy with my own town’s affairs, so …”
The door to the office flew open, and a woman with wide eyes came rushing in.
“The bank!” she cried. “It’s being robbed!”
It was funny how things could change in an instant.
One moment, Kyle was standing in front of the sheriff’s desk, feeling like a schoolboy being told he couldn’t hand in his homework because it was somehow unacceptable.
Now, things had completely changed. Now, he was across the road on the porch of the general store, watching the bank.
“At least we were right,” Warren said soberly.
“Yes, but a fat load of good it’s doing anyone,” Kyle muttered. It irked him to no end that it had to come to a literal robbery before anyone believed their warnings.
“Pipe down,” Sheriff Butler said, sounding even more annoyed than Kyle felt. “We’re going to do something about this.”
Finally, Kyle thought. It’s about time! But he held back the snide remark. “What?” he asked. “These bandits have successfully robbed a whole lot of other banks. What makes this time different?”
“Kyle, let the man work,” Michael said, putting a hand on Kyle’s shoulder.
Sheriff Butler sighed. “Look, we’ve been working on this bandit issue, me and a few of my volunteers. We’ve been working on a plan to save our bank if it should become the target of a robbery. I’m just waiting for my men to gather. Then we’re going in.”
“Do you want to do something?” Kyle asked. “Can we help?”
The sheriff shook his head. “No offense, fellas, but I don’t know you. And I got no good reason to trust you.”
“Fair enough. We’ll stay out of your way,” Michael assured him.
Kyle didn’t like it much. It felt to him like he was being sidelined after all the work he’d done figuring things out.
And he would still have nothing concrete or helpful to tell Alice when he saw her later.
He had promised he would get some kind of answers for her, and now he was going to be letting her down.
Unless, of course, the sheriff managed to get his act together at long last and capture these bandits. That would be something.
The sheriff soon left them, and Michael turned to them.
“Now, not to say I don’t trust our friend the sheriff to get this done, but …” Michael said.
“But you don’t think he can do it?” Warren asked, frowning.
“I think that he’s a little too sure of himself,” Michael said. “Have we ever had things go according to plan when dealing with El Aguila and his men?”
Kyle shook his head. “Never. They’ve always done something we didn’t expect.”
Michael nodded. “I think it’s time for us to be the unexpected factor in this little equation. So, we’ll let the sheriff carry out his plan, but I think we should be ready.”
“Ready how?” Kyle asked.
“Get us some horses, Kyle,” Michael said. “We’ll go to the saloon and get our guns. Then we’ll meet you at the stables.”
Kyle nodded. “Okay.” He liked this plan a good deal more than the one where he just sat around waiting for other people to do things.
He set off, walking quickly but casually toward Klaus’s stables.
He would need some fast horses. When the bandits were done, they would most likely ride at speed for the farm.
Were Chrissie and Jason tied up there? That would be the logical way to handle them unless Joel had enough men to leave some there while the rest pulled off the heist.
As Kyle was pondering this question, he passed a cart parked on the side of the road. There was nothing special about the cart, but Kyle’s sixth sense prickled. Glancing up at the driver, he realized that the man’s gun wasn’t strapped properly in his holster.
Kyle was about to point this out to the fellow when something stopped him.
What was this man doing armed, sitting in a cart on the street, not looking around at anything?
In fact, he had his hat down over his brow, hiding a good deal of his face.
He gave off the air of one trying not to be noticed—and he was doing a poor job of it.
And then there was the issue of the gun.
Either the man had forgotten to snap the leather down over the gun to keep it in place, or he had unsnapped it on purpose.
It was possible to forget if the man was young or inexperienced with firearms, but this man looked rough.
He must understand guns. So, what was going on?
Kyle paid more attention.
The man was watching the far side of the street. Kyle could see that from the way he sat. He was watching the bank surreptitiously. Though he was trying to be inconspicuous, he stood out like a bandaged thumb.
The hairs on the back of Kyle’s neck stood up.
He stopped walking and bent down to pretend to tie a loose bootlace.
As he did, he looked around and saw the other bandits.
There were five of them on the street. Five men in work clothes and hats.
They were all carrying guns, and they were a little too stationary to be going about their business.
From the positions they had taken up, Kyle was pretty certain that there wasn’t a way to reach the bank without these men stopping any people who tried to render assistance.
That meant that the sheriff and his men would meet resistance before they even got to the bank.
Was this how the bandits had done it each time?
They had known there would be resistance, and they had prepared to stop it.
Did that mean they intended to shoot anyone who tried to enter the bank?
It was no real stretch of the imagination to assume that would be the case.
These men looked hard and unforgiving. Just having them standing there seemed to be enough for most folks not to want to go near the bank.
He watched as a woman crossed the street, heading for the bank, saw the men, and adjusted her trajectory enough to miss it and headed for the post office instead.
Now Kyle faced a terrible choice. Should he go to the sheriff and tell him how many men there were and how it was unlikely he and his men would reach the bank in time?
Or should he go and get the horses and hope that the others would notice everything?
Should he hope the sheriff would see what he had seen?
The man was trained in law enforcement. He should see the signs, Kyle reasoned.
He wasn’t a fool. But that was a lot to hang on the assumption that the sheriff wasn’t foolish.
So far, Kyle hadn’t seen much wisdom in the lawman.
If Kyle didn’t warn Sheriff Butler, it was very possible he and his men would walk into a trap and likely be killed.
But turning around and walking back the way he’d come would no doubt draw unwanted attention.
He had taken too long tying his laces. Kyle had to stand up or look out of place. He stood. As he did, his eye was drawn to the little gap between the tarpaulin and the side of the cart.
Looking up at the cart, he saw something that made him do a double take. Was that an eye?
Kyle looked harder. It was definitely a human eye, and it looked scared.
He checked the driver. The man wasn’t paying any attention to the back of the cart. Kyle looked directly at the eye, and then, moving quickly, he lifted the tarp a bit and looked into the back of the cart.
His breath caught in his throat.
She looked so like Alice that, for a moment, Kyle thought the woman he loved had somehow been kidnapped.
Then he realized there were subtle differences in hair and eyes.
This was definitely Chrissie, Alice’s sister.
What was she doing here? She had a gag in her mouth, but her eyes spoke volumes.
She began to wriggle and make an urgent noise in her throat.