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* * *
Leonard was fiddling with the telegraph machine at the sheriff’s station. It had stopped working again, and Amos was anxious to get it restarted. Curt had gone out to take care of Mrs. Whitley’s cat, which had gotten itself stuck in a tree again, and Amos was reading through some papers at his desk.
“I just realized something,” Amos said. “It’s been almost a week since the break-in at the church.”
Leonard shot him a look. “You just now realized that?” he said with an amused expression.
Amos gave him a look. “What I mean is, it’s been a week since you and Lucille were married. You didn’t have a proper honeymoon. Heck, you didn’t even take off the day after.”
“You needed me here,” Leonard said, twisting a knob then pulling on a wire.
“I could’ve made do for a day or two,” he said. “Point is, you ought to go home early today. Take tomorrow off, maybe.”
Leonard looked at him. “You trying to get rid of me?” he asked. “Tired of having me around?” He was only half joking.
“No, it’s not that,” Amos said. “Can’t you take what I’m saying for what it is? A kind gesture from your boss. I’ll even give you full pay.”
“Now I know you want to get rid of me. Either that or you’re drunk.”
Amos chuckled. “I never drink when I’m working. You know that.”
“I know it,” said Leonard. “I just don’t get it. Since when do you care about being romantic?”
He sighed. “Since I realized I can be a donkey’s behind sometimes. Like the last few days.”
Leonard stopped working on the telegraph machine and looked at him, surprised to hear Amos paint himself in such a disparaging light, even if it was true. “You’ve had a lot on your mind. The thief from the reverend’s church and the Beauty Bandits are running free. It weighs on you. I understand that.” And he did. Amos’ temper had been short the last few days, but it was always that way when he felt pressure on his back.
“I know you do, but it weighs on you too, and you haven’t been jumping down everyone’s throats like I have.”
Leonard wasn’t sure how true that was. He thought of his accusations against Lucille just a few days before and still felt bad about them. Had she not made him swear to God that he’d forgive himself, he wasn’t sure he ever would have.
Sometimes he caught a look in Lucille’s eye or an awkward pause in conversation in which he was almost sure she wanted to say something, but she never did. He wondered if it was to do with his foolish thoughts and even more foolish claims, but whenever he asked her about it she swore she’d forgiven him, and so he had to take her at her word.
He’d still not said anything about it to Amos, but there was no need to anymore. He’d questioned Reverend Lerner about the brooch and learned that the reverend had found it himself shortly after their ceremony and had thought it Lucille’s. He’d put it in his coat pocket for safekeeping, meaning to give it back to her at the first opportunity. He’d forgotten all about it when the church was robbed and said it must have fallen from his pocket when leaning over to investigate the poor box. Had Leonard simply asked him about it from the beginning, he’d have easily gotten his questions answered. It was a valuable lesson.
The door to the station opened just then and a man stepped inside. He was tall and built big from head to toe and side to side. His hair was a dusty brown and his eyes seemed too small for his head. “Beady” was the word that came to mind. Hard lines ran across his face making him look fifty when Leonard suspected he was no older than thirty-five.
“Marshal Decker,” Amos said, rising from his seat.
Decker held up one hand. “No need to stand,” he said in a deep voice, then walked over and shook Amos’ hand. He turned to Leonard next, shaking his as well. The man’s skin was rough, and Leonard felt the scrub of callouses rub against his skin as they shook.
“Good to see you again, deputy,” Decker said.
“You as well,” Leonard said.
In truth, he didn’t care much for Decker. The man was good-natured enough on the surface, but there was an underlying brusqueness to him that Leonard found off-putting. He looked at everyone with suspicion. Leonard did not even think the man trusted himself. He seemed ready to snap at a moment’s notice.
“I was wondering when you’d get around to visiting with us,” Amos said. Decker took the seat opposite him.
“I started for Elmwood as soon as I finished my investigation in Thunderbend,” Decker said. “It’s a small town for a train robbery, though these Beauty Bandits have never been picky.”
“Find out anything useful?” Amos asked.
Decker’s answer was a deep sigh. “All I know is that the Beauty Bandits are either desperate now that I’m closing in on them, or they’ve gotten careless.”
“Maybe they’ve gotten careless because they’re desperate,” Amos said.
“Or maybe it wasn’t the Beauty Bandits who robbed that train at all,” Leonard said, and both men looked at him with shock.
He couldn’t blame them. He was surprised at the words that had just come out of his own mouth and knew they thought him foolish for saying such a thing. He wondered why he’d had to open his mouth. It would have been so much easier to go along with what they were saying rather than argue against it.
“As I was saying,” Decker continued after a minute as though Leonard hadn’t spoken, “the Beauty Bandits are getting desperate. And that means my job just became a lot easier.”
Leonard walked around to join them at Amos’ desk. Amos glanced at him and, with his eyes, told him to keep quiet. Leonard would do just that unless the marshal gave him a reason not to. He leaned against Amos’ desk waiting to see what the man might say next.
“So you think the bandits are in Elmwood?” Amos asked Decker.
“I think at least one of them is.”
Leonard uncrossed his arms. “Last time you were here,” he said, “you said the same thing, but nothing ever came of it.”
Decker shrugged. “That doesn’t change facts. I’ve got information that points to someone from this town.”
“What information is that? Where did you get it?” asked Leonard.
“Aside from all the robberies happening in or near Elmwood—”
“Some happened in Kansas,” Leonard interrupted and felt a tug on his sleeve. It was Amos giving him a threatening look.
“Yes, but even those Kansas trains passed through here, or very close to it.” Decker looked hard and long at Leonard before continuing. “As I was saying, aside from that, there was a conversation between two of the bandits that one of the passengers overheard. He was hiding among some luggage and they never even saw him. He heard one of them use one of the women’s name.”
“You’ve never given us a name,” said Amos, finally piping in. Leonard saw a flash of irritation cross his face.
“Because I wasn’t certain. The man who overheard it wasn’t a hundred percent sure on it.”
“Are you certain now?” Leonard asked.
Decker frowned. “That one of the women lives here, yes. Of who woman that is, no.”
“Why don’t you just tell us the name you’ve got,” Amos said. “We might be able to help you. We know every woman in this town.”
“I’ve got a pretty good idea who she is—I tracked her all the way to Nevada and back—but I still can’t prove anything conclusively. And I won’t give out a woman’s name to the reporters and smear her reputation unless I know without a doubt she’s the one I’m after.”
“So if she was a man it’d be different?” Leonard asked.
For some reason, Decker’s remark about tracking his suspect to Nevada and back bothered him. Lucille had been in Nevada not long ago. Her letter accepting his marriage contract had come to him from there, as had her telegraphed message. He shook that thought away as quickly as it had come.
“If the outlaw I was after was a man, then yes, it’d be different,” Decker admitted. “For one thing, I’d shoot him on sight. For another, I’d already have his picture plastered all over God’s own country. But women are more delicate.”
Amos and Leonard exchanged a look. Neither of them were totally convinced that Decker knew half as much as he liked to claim he did. Amos, at least, respected the man. Leonard did too, but not in the same way. He thought Decker was brave, but sometimes a little misguided in his approach to capturing a criminal. He had a tendency to shoot innocent men in his eagerness to get his outlaw, and that didn’t sit right with Leonard.
“There are no reporters here in this room,” Leonard said. “Tell us who you think this woman is and we won’t say anything. It doesn’t make sense to keep it to yourself if you think she’s here. Not unless you’re holding off telling us so as you can claim all the glory for yourself when you catch her, but I promise you that neither Amos nor I care much for glory. We just want to get the bad guy. Or in this case, woman.”
Decker looked as if he were considering the idea, and Leonard knew then that he’d hit the nail right on the head. Decker was a glory hound. He wanted his picture in the paper when he finally brought down the Beauty Bandits, and he didn’t want anyone else taking credit with him.
Amos must have sensed the same thing, because he said, “Leonard’s right. If we help you out, you can take all the credit for yourself. Heck, you’re the one who’s been chasing her all over the country anyways. You deserve it.”
Decker smiled. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “Maybe it would help.” He opened his mouth to speak, and a woman walked into the station, catching them all off guard. Decker closed his mouth and leaned back in his chair.
Amos nodded to Irene. “Mrs. Harcourt,” he said.
Irene’s eyes fell on Marshal Decker, and her lips parted slightly in surprise. No doubt she recognized him from the papers. Last time he’d been in Elmwood, he’d spent a lot of time questioning the women in town as well. That was another thing Leonard didn’t like about the man. He irritated people who were just trying to go about their business.
“What can we do for you?” Amos asked.
Irene paused and looked at Leonard. “I was looking for Lucy,” she said. “She wasn’t at home, and I thought maybe she was here.”
“No,” Leonard said. “She said this morning she was going to run a few errands and maybe look for a new dress. You might want to check the shops.”
“I’ll do that,” Irene said and left the station quickly.
Decker chuckled to himself. “Women, always dress shopping aren’t they?” He looked at Leonard a moment longer than Leonard cared for. “Who Lucy?”
“My wife,” Leonard told him. “I was recently married.”
“Congratulations,” Decker said. “Is she a looker?”
Leonard’s face colored. He didn’t care for Decker’s question. “I’d say so.”
“What color is her hair?”
Now Leonard’s cheeks began to burn. He suddenly realized what Decker was getting at.
Amos sat straighter in his seat. “Now hold on there, marshal,” Amos said. “Lucy’s lived here almost her whole life. She’s not one of the women you’re after.”
“Maybe not,” Decker said. “But why don’t you answer the question? What color is her hair? Blonde?”
“No,” Leonard snapped. “It’s red. Nowhere close to the Beauty Bandits’ hair color.”
Decker shrugged. “Sometimes I have to ask difficult questions.”
Leonard drew in a breath and looked out the window. If Decker was going to start hanging around the sheriff’s station, then maybe he would take Amos up on his offer for some time off. He shot a look at the man and a shudder ran through him. Then again... Maybe it was better for Leonard to keep a close eye on the man. He could always take a day or two off later, when Decker was gone.
* * *
