The Accomplice Read Online Free PDF Page B

of his head.
    Caleb practically jumped up from his desk and stormed out of his office. When the door swung open, Hank jumped out of the way before taking a hit square in the nose.
    “What’s the rush, Caleb?” Hank asked as the customers leaning against the bar laughed at his near fall.
    “No rush. I just needed to get some fresh air.”
    The old miner was still in his spot. From there, he seemed to see and hear everything that happened in the place. “No fresh air in here,” he said. “At least, not when ol’ Thirsty is in the room.”
    Everyone within earshot laughed at that. Everyone, that is, except for Thirsty.
    The middle-aged man was dressed in a sloppy, rumpled suit. His face had the permanent, rosy hue of someone with just as much liquor flowing through his veins as there was blood. “Aw, to hell with ya, Orville,” Thirsty grunted.
    Raising his glass, the old miner shot back with, “You first, you drunk bastard.”
    That got another round of insults started. Some of the others chimed in like children pitching their marbles into a schoolyard game. Caleb watched the bawdy exchanges with a smile as the knot in his stomach started to loosen. The air within the saloon might have been far from fresh, but it was exactly what he’d needed.
    And, using the sixth sense that his sort always seemed to have, Loco Mike Abel picked that moment to make his entrance.
    Before Mike had even stepped all the way through the front door, Caleb had spotted him and was searching for the darkly dressed man Mike was there to see. It was easy enough to spot the gambler, since his face was already turning toward the door.
    Placing his hand upon Hank’s shoulder, Caleb walked past the barkeep and whispered, “Stay on your toes.”
    The barkeep didn’t know how to take that until he finally spotted Mike swaggering into the saloon like he owned the place. Nodding, Hank stepped aside so Caleb could walk around the bar.
    “Hell of a crowd tonight,” Mike said as Caleb approached him. “Word must’a gotten out about my big game.”
    Caleb stepped right up to him, stopped, and took a look around for himself. “I’ve seen bigger.”
    “Yeah? Well you won’t see a bigger game.”
    “If that’s all you’re here for, then go have your game. I’m more than happy to provide the table. If it’s trouble you’re after, then you’d best move along.”
    After ignoring Caleb for another moment or two, Mike finally shifted his eyes back to him and smirked. “Didn’t I already deal with you?” He reached out to take hold of Caleb’s chin so he could move his head from side to side. “Yeah. Looks like I did. How about you tend to your bar before I tear that face up some more?”
    Caleb slapped Mike’s band aside. He could feel his nostrils flaring as every muscle in his body tensed.
    Mike’s smirk became even more maddening as he said, “Ohh, don’t get all riled up. I didn’t mean anything by it.” He then put his back to Caleb and moved forward as if he’d forgotten the other man had even existed. “Now where’s that dandy who thinks he can play cards?”
    “That’d be me,” came a voice from a table toward the back of the room.
    The gambler didn’t bother getting up from his seat. He was still dressed in his black suit, but his tie was loosened and his jacket was draped over the back of his chair. Some of the others at his table took a moment to acknowledge Mike’s presence, but only with a quick glance over their shoulder.
    Mike didn’t seem to notice that nearly everyone else in the saloon had gotten back to their own business. Assuming he was the center of attention, he glanced around from one side to another, nodded and smiled to an audience that he didn’t even have.
    As much as he wanted to do otherwise, Caleb let Mike pass. The words that had passed between them still burned inside his ears.
    Stopping once he got up to the gambler’s table, Mike pulled out a chair and dropped himself into it. He kept his