Keeper of the Books (Keeper of the Books, Book 1) (2 page)

“That’s what I thought.”

That was just before this job—the one that brought back Joe who, despite the mud on his face, looked as white as a sheet. Ralph and Stewart were missing. Amos had been captured. There wasn’t a lot of time left. Nate got up from his seat and walked past Joe toward his horse.

“Forget about it, Nate,” Joe offered once more, though he probably knew it would do no good.

The sun beat down on Nate as he stepped from the shadows of the front porch. He reached up into the saddlebag and felt for the book. When his fingers recognized pages and a hard cover, he gripped it and slid it out.
 

“Don’t open it,” Joe said when Nate stared at it intently. “I don’t want to be out here by myself.”

The cover was gray and had no title. There was no writing or imprints on the front or back. He studied the spine and thought about flipping through the pages just to get Joe riled up, but he decided against it.
 

“Why would Montgomery want this?” Nate said, mostly to himself. “You think it’s magical?” He looked up at Joe with a lifted eyebrow when he said this. “Is it the book from hell?”

Joe clenched his jaw and started pacing again. “You make fun of me all you want, but I know what I saw.”

“You know what you
think
you saw,” Nate said, standing from his crouch.

“I got a feeling you don’t really want to test me,” Joe said.
 

Nate’s eyes narrowed at his brother. If the situation weren’t so serious, he would have opened the book out of spite. But he had never seen Joe like this. Joe was never much of a liar and he surely wouldn’t be pulling Nate’s leg. The two of them enjoyed practical jokes as much as anyone, but this would be too far. Not to mention, it was too crazy for Joe to just make it up. A book that swallows people?
 

Nate studied the cover again, looking for some imprint of a faded title—an author—anything. There was nothing.
 

Nate took slow steps toward the house. When he got back to the porch, he crossed in front of Joe and sat back down in his rocker. Instinctively, he reached for his flask, but shook his head when he remembered that it was empty. Instead, he stared down at the book almost as if he were waiting for it to swallow him up too.
 

Surely Joe didn’t see what he thought he saw. Maybe he turned around for a second and they left while his back was turned. There had to be some explanation. Still, Nate held the book in his hands, too concerned to open the pages. What if Joe was telling the truth? What if it
was
some sort of magical book that made people disappear? That didn’t mean Ralph and Stewart were dead, did it? Just…gone.
 

Nate could feel his jaws clenching. His face was getting red, he knew. He could always feel when his face was getting red. But this time he didn’t know if it was out of anger and frustration, or if he felt embarrassed. This was the first time he didn’t know what to do. Could he simply deliver the book to his client, Tyler Montgomery, and leave it at that? Nate was in this for the money. It was his duty not to get too curious about the things he was hired to steal. But this book perplexed him. Obviously the safety deposit box didn’t belong to Montgomery. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have hired Nate to steal it. But wouldn’t he have told Nate that he would be stealing something dangerous? Maybe he thought Nate wouldn’t have taken the job otherwise. Or maybe Montgomery didn’t know about its mysterious power.
 

Of course he knows about it. That’s why he wants it.
 

Nate let loose a long sigh. “This is supposed to be my last job,” he said.
 

“Just because this book is a demon book, doesn’t mean it can’t be the your last job.” Joe swallowed. “Besides, it ain’t like you went with us anyway.”

“Yeah, but I deliver,” Nate said, getting angry. “I was hired by Tyler Montgomery and I delegated. It’s still my job.”

Joe threw up his hands in surrender. “You’re right, you’re right.”

But Joe was right too. Nate hadn’t been on the last three jobs. He had taken to delegating the duties because his face had become too recognizable. There were some towns that he would never be able to set foot in again without getting shot by someone. The bounty on Nate’s head was so large that in most counties, it didn’t matter if he was brought in dead or alive. The reward was the same. This particular bank robbery would have brought Nate to a place he had robbed not twice, but three times. Had he gone with the group, he would have been captured before the job even started.
 

Joe turned his back to Nate and leaned against the porch railing, staring out into the dusty yard. “What do you think we ought to do?”

Nate thought for a moment as he looked into the sun drenched yard. Finally, he got up from the chair and stood next to his brother.
 

“We can’t stay here,” Nate said. “It won’t be long before Amos gives up our location.”

“You think we ought to run?”

Nate nodded and looked at the book in his hands. Joe stared at it but took a step to the side as if it might explode.
 

“Get yourself cleaned up,” Nate said. “We’re going to meet with Tyler Montgomery.”

“Forget the book,” Joe pleaded. “It’s more dangerous carrying that thing around than staying here and waiting for Levi Thompson.”

“This is my last job,” Nate said. “I intend to get paid for it.”

Summer, 1882 A.D.

“Nathaniel Cole is going to hang from a tree,” Levi Thompson said to Amos. “And you can either hang next to him, or tell me where he is. His fate is secure, but yours…” he shook his head, “yours is up in the air. I’m sure we can work all this out if you agree to tell me where he is.”

Amos swallowed as a bead of sweat crawled next to his eye. “I don’t want to be prosecuted for no crimes.”

“Yer kiddin’ yourself if you think you ain’t gonna be prosecuted,” Sheriff Marston said.
 

Levi had to keep himself from shaking his head. These locals never understood criminals the way he did. None of them were even close to as good at tracking them down as Levi was, but the lawmen always had to have their way. Technically speaking, Amos wasn’t Levi’s prisoner, but the sheriff would let Levi have him until the outlaw led him to the Cole brothers—more importantly, Nathaniel. Levi would make whatever promises he needed to make so long as Amos led him to Nathaniel. Amnesty was a promise that Levi wasn’t authorized to give, but when outlaws like the Cole brothers were within grasp, the bounty hunter would promise just about anything, whether it was true or not.
 

He looked back at the sheriff of Penrod. “Mr. Marston, do you have any matches?”

Marston looked at Levi with a curious stare, unsure of what the bounty hunter had in mind. “And just what are you planning to do if I told you I did?”

Levi lifted a hand in the air, a thick brown roll of tobacco was tucked between two fingers. Oftentimes Levi would simply chew the end of a cigar for the flavor, but when the sweet smoke entered his lungs and exited through his nostrils or lips, he felt like his thoughts were clearer. More concise. Levi rarely formulated a plan without a cigar in his mouth, the tendrils of smoke gathering into white clouds around his head. “Just for this,” he said, holding up the fat cigar.
 

Marston sucked on the bottom of his lip as he walked to the front of his desk, opened the top drawer, and pulled out a single match for Levi to use. Levi took the match from him with a nod and a forced smile.
 

“Now,” Levi said, “could you excuse the two of us for a moment?”

“Nope,” the sheriff said. “I ain’t gonna be pushed outta my own office. Especially by a bounty hunter.”

“No one is pushing you out,” Levi said, offering a more genuine-looking smile. “The Cole brothers are the most wanted criminals this side of the Rio Grande. If you want them to be captured, you have to let me do my job. I need to speak with Amos alone, please.” He waited a moment as Marston considered his words.

Marston was an unpleasant man. His hair strung out in mats under the brim of his hat which was spotted with sweat. He smelled of stout alcohol and he needed a bath worse than some of the cattle rustlers Levi had rounded up less than a week before. They had been a rough bunch of men whose capture had fattened Levi’s coin purse substantially. Like most of the criminals Levi chased, they had been stupid, and on top of that, they each had an odor that had been burned into Levi’s memory. It wasn’t uncommon for men out on the plains to have a lack of hygiene, but these men had smelled worse than any fugitives Levi had ever captured. And Levi wouldn’t be wrong to lump Sheriff Marston in with them.
 
Why a man like this would get elected was beyond the bounty hunter’s knowledge. He was a disgrace to his badge. The man snarled as his eyes made a line from Amos to Levi.
 

“I will talk with the prisoner alone regardless,” Levi said. “It can be here in your office, or outside away from your town.”

“You don’t have the right to take my prisoner away,” Marston said.

“You’re not equipped to take on the Cole brothers,” Levi answered. “I know it. You know it. Your whole town knows it. I
will
take your prisoner if I have to.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Mr. Thompson.”

Levi nodded kindly almost as if to give a preemptive
thank you
. Marston looked down at Amos and snarled again as he opened the door. “I’ll be out on the porch if you need me.”

“I will call you should the need arise,” Levi said respectfully. His eyes didn’t leave the sheriff until the door was shut and only Amos was in the room with him.
 

Levi took a deep breath and surveyed the small room. There were two jail cells, both of which were empty. Amos sat in a chair with one of his wrists chained to the bars while Levi sat on the sheriff’s desk across from him. With one hand, Levi stroked his graying mustache as he thought about the words he was about to say. He knew he didn’t want Marston in the room interrupting every chance he got. That’s why he sent the man out—that and the smell. Things were bad when an officer of the law looked crummier than the prisoners he held.
 

Levi pulled off his wide brimmed hat and set it on the desk next to him. The room was hot despite the slight breeze coming in through the windows. He wiped his sweat with the palm of his hand and let out a deep breath. He brought his cigar up to his lips and struck the match against the desk. The flame burned bright in front of his face and caught the end of his cigar, setting it ablaze for half a second before it started smoldering a few inches from his face. He shook the match out and let it fall to the floor in front of him as he sucked in two lungs full of smoke.

“You know,” Levi said, “it never matters how hot it is outside or how cold, a good smoke always takes the edge off.”

Amos looked up at him with a blank stare on his face. Levi wasn’t sure if the man was stupid or still shocked about being caught, but the lack of expression was enough for Levi to classify this outlaw as plain-ol’ dumb.

“It ain’t often you see a bounty hunter with the power to send the sheriff out of his own office, is it?” Levi said.
 

“No,” Amos answered.
 

“You know who I am?”

“Levi Thompson. One of the best bounty hunters there is.”

At least he ain’t too dumb.
“That’s right. I have the power to do a lot of things, Amos.”

“I know.” Amos sounded like he was on the verge of tears.
 

“You won’t be prosecuted for any crimes,” Levi said. Amos’ eyes lit up at the statement, but Levi held up a finger. “So long as you lead me straight to the Cole brothers.”

“A powerful man you may be, sir, but you ain’t powerful enough to erase my crimes,” Amos said.

“That ain’t for you to worry about,” Levi said. “I know what I can and can’t do.”

“The brothers are probably on the run by now,” Amos said.
 

“Then we don’t have much time, do we?”
 

“So, you’re telling me that if I lead you to Nate and Joe, you’ll just let me walk free?”

“If the two of them are captured or killed, yes,” Levi said.
 

Amos looked away from Levi and stared at the floor in front of him, probably unable to believe his stroke of luck. Of course, Levi had no intention of letting Amos get away with his crimes. The things he had done deserved punishment—no, justice.
Justice
would be served. When bounty hunter Levi Thompson was involved, justice was always served one way or another.

A man died today. He was a bank teller that had done his duty to society. He had gone to work to lend people money. To help the local economy. One of these scoundrels shot him through the heart because he resisted their demands to take them to some safety deposit box. For that, all of the thieves deserved to die, regardless of who pulled the trigger. And Nathaniel Cole was the worst of the bunch. Not only did he have blood on his hands from victims of the past, but he orchestrated this mess. Worse than carrying out acts of lawlessness was coming up with them in the first place—orchestrating them. His crimes spanned from Kentucky to Texas. While Nathaniel Cole was still breathing, people’s lives were in danger. But all that was about to change.
 

“You’re going to lead me to him,” Levi said.
 

“Who?”

Levi’s eyes narrowed. Just how dense was Amos? Was he a hired gun with no brains? “Nathaniel Cole,” Levi repeated. “And if his brother is with him, even better.”

“I can take you to where our hideout was,” Amos said. “But I’m sure they’re gone by now.”

“I also want you to tell me again about Ralph Butler and Stewart Douglas,” Levi said. “The other two in your group that disappeared. You said they just vanished into thin air?”

Amos’ hands began to twitch. “I know it sounds crazy…”

“Crazy doesn’t even begin to describe it.”