has as much as it’s going to.” He hoped that wasn’t a point against him in collaborating with Sam.
“I wouldn’t have recognized you. You always have been a chameleon.”
Tom rubbed his beard, thinking maybe he should have shaved for this meeting, although he doubted a small thing like that would put him in the Fursts’ good graces. Besides, maybe he once was a chameleon but no longer. It had been hard enough to blend in with his six-foot-four-inch frame, but now the catch in his walk made it even harder. It made him slow...and awkward at times. A person could pick him out of a crowd, which was not a good thing for someone who was a field agent.
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you’d gotten out of this type of work. Last I heard the government let you go.”
So Sam had been keeping tabs on him. Interesting. “Just took a hiatus. Had to let my leg heal...” And a few other things he wouldn’t go into.
“But you are not with the government?”
“No. Not any longer. My choice.” The desk job they insisted he take hadn’t suited him.
“I am surprised the agency sent you.”
Tom didn’t blink at the rub. “I am the best man for the job. Wells Fargo knows that.” He’d been running down thieves and criminals for years—particularly gold thieves. He knew how they operated and was usually one step ahead of them.
“I suppose so...now that Cranston is gone.”
On hearing his partner’s name, a shaft as cold as an icicle sliced through him. Sam probably didn’t need to know that he had asked for this assignment. First, Tom needed to prove to himself that he still had it in him to manage an operation, but more than that, he needed to atone for Cranston’s death. He owed it to Cranston, and to Amanda, his widow.
“Just so you know...when Amanda heard it might be you they were sending she wasn’t happy.”
“Guess that’s understandable, considering things.” Considering their past. He had never expected to talk with Sam or his family again. His showing up here was a reminder of their loss.
“In the event she walks in on us...you’ve been warned.”
Tom nodded. “Understood.”
“Did you stop at the main bank? Talk to my father?”
“I tried to,” he answered honestly. “He refused to see me.” He raked his fingers through his hair. He didn’t need Sam’s blessing or permission. He could do what he wanted to do without it. Yet if all went well, he’d be helping the Fursts and maybe atoning somewhat for his partner’s death. So why did he feel like he was in front of a firing squad?
Sam studied him for a minute, his fingers steepled in front of him. Likely he wondered if he should follow his father’s lead. Tom just hoped he’d keep an open mind. Finally Sam lowered his hands. “All right. Here’s what I know.”
Now it came to it. Tom leaned forward.
“A month ago there was a robbery in Bakersfield, similar to the one we had recently in Clear Springs. They tried running the ore down the mountain in the dead of night like we did and still ended up getting waylaid by the crooks and losing ten thousand dollars in gold bullion.”
“They’ve got someone on the inside,” Tom said immediately.
Sam drew his brows together. “How can you know that?”
“They were ready. At night. Doesn’t take much to deduce.”
Sam sighed. “Well, then go ahead. What’s your take on things?”
“Wells Fargo is aware of all you just said. They think it is likely the same group of thieves. Their ploy was successful, which makes Wells Fargo believe they’ll target you again. They’ll gain a certain arrogance in succeeding. Criminals do. And the fact that you are so close to Mexico makes it all too easy for them to slip over the border and disappear.”
Sam listened, but then pulled back, his gaze clouding over. “I just can’t get past why the agency sent you after what happened. Because of you, my sister is a widow.”
The barely controlled emotion shook Tom up. He had known, even though it had been an entire year, that he would encounter anger. Still, Sam’s attitude made him feel all over again how unworthy he was to be alive when Cranston, Amanda’s husband, wasn’t. “I’ll get the job done, Sam. If anything, I have more at stake in the outcome than any other field agent.”
Sam let out a sigh. “Guess you have something there.”
“Believe me, no one wants this more than I do. I don’t care how messy things get.”
Sam clasped his hands over his stomach and blew out a breath.
Tom could tell he wasn’t getting through to him. “Let me put it another way. Wells Fargo hired me. Not you. I answer to them so I am going to do this whether I have your cooperation or not. Without it, there is more of a chance I won’t be successful and you may lose more gold. If we work together things will go smoother. We can collaborate and figure out a few moves that keep us ahead of any robbery.”
Sam snorted. “Persistent, aren’t you?”
He was still on shaky ground. That wasn’t a yes from Sam, but at least he was able to joke about it a little. “I know what I have to do and thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You’re welcome.” Sam huffed, still tense. Then slowly he relaxed his shoulders. “However, I agree. We do have to work together.”
Tom waited. This entire meeting was awkward as they both tried to assess where they stood with each other.
“You’ve got nerve, Barrington, showing up here after all that has happened,” Sam finally said. “But then maybe that’s exactly what is needed in this situation.”
Nerve had nothing to do with it. What he had was nothing to lose. He was through living his life in the shadows like an injured dog, the way he had for the past year. Losing his partner had eaten at him until he barely recognized himself.
“I tell myself there was no way you could have prevented Cranston’s death,” Sam said. “Given the same circumstances, I might have called it just like you did. Still doesn’t mean that I can accept what happened.”
Whatever had made Sam say that much, Tom was grateful for it. At least they were talking. “I don’t expect you to. I wish it had gone the other way.” He could commiserate and tell him that not a day went by that he didn’t regret what had happened. He could still see his partner crumpling to the floor, still see the shock on his face as his life bled out. They had orchestrated any number of scenarios to make sure they each had each other’s back, just not the presence of a little boy who should never have been on that train car in the first place.
“But it didn’t,” Sam stated. “And along with Cranston, Amanda’s life was destroyed.”
Amanda blamed him, but no more than he did himself. Surely she hoped he would have died instead of her husband. It was the number one reason he didn’t want a wife or family with the type of job he had.
