Barnes teased.
For a moment Powell didn’t get it, then when he did, he laughed out loud.
“No train for us. I figured Claudia and I would just walk along the track ’til we got there,” Powell said. “No, sir, who needs an old, loud, smelly train?” He laughed again.
“You aren’t going to miss the dedication of Colonel MacCallister’s statue, are you?” Barnes asked.
“Oh, goodness no. I wouldn’t miss that for the world,” Reverend Powell said. “But that’s some time away, yet. We’ll be back in plenty of time for that.”
“I didn’t think you would want to miss it. I’ve heard you are giving the invocation.”
“I will be giving it, and mighty proud to do so,” Reverend Powell said.
“Come on up to the window, Reverend, and I’ll give you your money. Have you drawn the draft yet?”
“Yes, I have it right here,” Reverend Powell said, pulling the draft from his pocket.
“Well then, we’ll have you out of here in no time.”
Suddenly the front door burst open and five men came charging into the bank. All five had their guns drawn, and they were so sure of themselves, that none of them were wearing masks. One of them had only one eye, and Mrs. Powell had to turn her head away in revulsion, rather than look directly at him.
“Everybody, get your hands up!” one of the men shouted. He was a small man, but the gun in his hand made him look big enough. “This is a bank robbery. Teller, get behind the cage and give us all the money you got!”
Barnes stepped around behind the counter, opened his drawer, and pulled out a couple hundred dollars. He handed it through the window to the robbers.
“What is this?” the small man asked. “Are you tellin’ me this is all the money you’ve got in this bank?”
“There is more money in the safe, but it’s locked and I don’t have the combination,” Barnes said. “Mr. Dempster only lets me have what he thinks I’ll need durin’ the day.”
The leader of the group, the one who had given the teller his orders, turned his pistol on Claudia Powell and pulled the trigger. The woman let out a cry of pain, then fell.
“Now, you open that safe or someone else dies,” the little man with the big gun said.
“What have you done?” Reverend Powell shouted. Even though he was unarmed, he started toward the shooter.
Calmly, and without changing the expression on his face, the little man fired again, and the good reverend went down, collapsing on the floor next to his wife. At that moment a young woman came into the bank, and the little man pointed his pistol toward her.
“No!” Barnes shouted. “Please, don’t shoot her! That’s my wife! I’ll get the money for you!”
The small, evil man smiled. “So, you’ve suddenly remembered the combination to the safe, have you?”
“Yes, Mr. Mueller. Please, no more shooting.”
“Luke, the son of a bitch knows us,” one of the other men said. He was only a little taller than Luke.
Luke smiled. “What can I tell you, Clete? When you get as good at something as we are, people learn your name.”
“That ain’t good, is it?”
“It ain’t all bad. If the law in this one horse town knows that it was the Mueller brothers who held up the bank, they’ll be too scared to come after us.”
Barnes returned from the safe, carrying a sack.
“This is it,” he said. “This is all the money the bank has.”
“Open the top. Let me look down inside,” Luke Mueller said.
Barnes opened the top, disclosing several bound packets of twenty dollar bills.
“Now, that’s more like it,” Mueller said. He smiled, then took the bag. “It’s been a real pleasure doing business with you,” he said.
Chapter Two
The metal bit jangled against the horse’s teeth. The horse’s hooves clattered on the hard rock and the leather saddle creaked beneath the weight of its rider.
When Falcon MacCallister rode into town just before noon, he knew something had happened. It wasn’t due to some sort of psychic perception, though the clues were so subtle that there are many who would not have picked up on them.
Nobody was pitching horseshoes alongside Sikes’s Hardware Store.
No one was playing checkers in front of Boots and Saddles.
There were no clusters of women shoppers, standing on the corners, laughing and talking.
In fact there was a pall hanging over the town that was palpable. Wondering what was going on, Falcon stopped in front of the sheriff’s office, swung down from his horse, tied it off, and stepped inside. The sheriff and two of his deputies were looking at a map they had spread out on a table.
“Good morning, Amos,” Falcon said, greeting the newly elected sheriff, Amos Cody.
“Ah, Mr. MacCallister, am I glad to see you,” the young sheriff said.
“I keep telling you, Amos, to call me Falcon.”
“Yes, sir, I know you do, but it’s just that I grew up hearin’ about your pa’s exploits, then yours. Well, it just seems hard.”
“You are making me feel very old, Amos,” Falcon said. He glanced out the window and saw a little cluster of people engaged in an intense conversation. The somber expressions on their faces reinforced his feeling that something bad had happened.
“What’s going on, Sheriff?”
“You mean you haven’t heard?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“The bank was robbed this morning,” Amos said.
“And the Reverend Powell and his wife was murdered,” Deputy Bates added. Bates was a lot older than the young sheriff, and had been a deputy for many years.
“What?” Falcon said in surprise and anger. “Brother Charles and Sister Claudia have been killed?”
“Yes, they were in the bank when it was robbed.”
“But I don’t understand. Why were they killed?”
Sheriff Cody shook his head. “Who knows?”
“It was Luke and Clete Mueller,” Deputy Bates said. “From all I’ve heard about them two, they don’t really need no reason. Accordin’ to Clyde Barnes, the Powells were just standing there in the bank when the robbers
