Midnight Rider

Chapter 14

Out in front of the Lucky Nut, Rochenbach, Casings and the Giant tied their horses’ reins and walked inside, following Spiller and Frank Penta.

As they crossed the floor toward the bar, Penta and Bryce Shaner directed Casings and the Giant toward the stairs up to Grolin’s office. Spiller and the others veered over to the bar, keeping Rochenbach in their midst.

“What about Rock?” the Stillwater Giant asked, stopping at the foot of the stairs as if taking firm position on an issue. He looked at Penta standing before him and Casings, and at Shaner standing behind them. Both carried rifles in their hands.

“Let Spiller and the boys buy your pal a drink,” Shaner said. His right hand held his Winchester in such a way that offered a quick rise to the Giant’s chest if he wanted. Watching, Rochenbach saw his thumb slide over the rifle’s hammer.

“Rock and I stick together,” the Giant said in his deep, strong voice. “If he stays down here and drinks, so do I.”

“It that a fact?” said Shaner, raising his rifle an inch, threateningly. He gave the Giant a dark stare. “I didn’t know you two were so sweet on each other.”

The Giant returned Shaner’s gaze. “I bet you didn’t know I can turn a rifle barrel into a necktie either.” He took a step toward Shaner, his big hands spread.

Casings saw fear sweep over Shaner’s face, standing under the Giant’s looming shadow. But fear or no fear, he knew Shaner wouldn’t hesitate a second at pulling the Winchester’s trigger.

“Hey, come on, big fellow!” said Casings, stepping in between the two, putting a flat hand on the Giant’s stomach, as if to hold back a leaning boulder. “This isn’t the time or place to go ruining a man’s repeating rifle.”

“Let him go,” Penta said to Casings, in a calm but sinister tone, a sly half smile on his face. “Shaner and I can handle ourselves.”

“So can I,” Casings said, returning Penta’s threat. His right hand wrapped around his gun butt. But he kept leaning, holding the Giant back, knowing if the big man wanted to, he could brush him aside.

Rochenbach shot a glance around at the other gunmen, aware they would side with Penta and Shaner when the shooting started.

“Hey, Giant,” he called out from his spot at the bar, “can’t I get myself a drink without you two hanging at my elbow?”

The gunmen around Rochenbach chuckled; Giant heard them and gave Rochenbach a strange, hurt look.

Casings also shot him a look. But he quickly saw what Rochenbach was doing and he homed right in on it.

“Yeah, Giant,” he said, “come on. Grolin wants to talk to us first, not him.”

The Giant settled, stunned and red-faced at Rochenbach’s words, and at the ripple of laughter from the other gunmen.

“You—you mean that, Rock?” he asked.

“Jesus! Yes, he means it, Giant,” said Casings. He gave the Giant a friendly punch on his hard stomach. “What’s he got to do to make you understand?”

“Is that right, Rock?” the Giant said, staring at Rochenbach with a hurt look.

Rochenbach didn’t answer. He picked up a shot of whiskey Grolin’s bartender poured for him and tossed it back. Man, this hurts…, he told himself. Seeing the look on the Giant’s big, childlike face, he nodded toward the upper landing, where Grolin waited in his office.

“Get on up the stairs, Giant,” he said. “We work for the same man, don’t we?”

Watching through a peep-slot in his office wall overlooking the saloon, Andrew Grolin smiled to himself as he saw Rochenbach turn to face the bar for a refill. He stood watching a moment longer as the Giant and Casings walked up the stairs, Penta and Shaner front and rear of them. Then he slid the peep-slot shut and walked behind his desk as the sound of their boots wound the hallway and stopped at his door.

“Come in,” he replied gruffly to the knock on his office door.

Frank Penta swung the door open and walked in, followed by Casings, the Giant, then Shaner, who closed the door and started over toward the desk with the others.

“That’s all for you two,” Grolin said to Penta and Shaner. “How far out did you run into my missing gunmen?” he asked as the riflemen started to turn and leave.

“Three miles, four maybe.” Penta shrugged. He looked at Casings and added, “They were coming from the direction they should’ve been.”

“Well… that’s good to hear,” said Grolin. He grinned, took a cigar from his coat pocket, sniffed it lengthwise and nodded Shaner and Penta on toward the door. “Take care of things, get ready to ride.”

“Sure thing,” said Penta, reaching for the doorknob.

Ready to ride…? Casings repeated to himself, curiously.

When the door shut behind them, Grolin noted the questioning look on Casings’ face.

“Yeah, ready to ride. You heard me right,” he said as if answering Casings’ thoughts. “We’re still doing business here. Did you think the world would stop because you two and Avrial Rochenbach weren’t around to keep it rolling?”

“No,” said Casings, “I was just curious, thinking you were talking about the big job.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Grolin said in a short tone. He bit the end off the cigar and stuck it into his mouth. “Now, what the hell happened up there at Hercules?”

“It sounds like you already heard everything that happened,” Casings answered, “except that Rock, the Giant and I went off after Macon Ray and his gunmen.”

“Against my orders, you forgot to mention,” Grolin added for him. “But I suppose that was all Rochenbach’s fault?”

He pulled a match from inside his coat, struck it along the edge of his desk and lit his cigar. Casings watched, gauging Grolin’s voice and demeanor, deciding he wasn’t in any dark, terrible rage over what had happened. This was anger for the show of anger.

“No, it was my idea to go after them,” Casings said.

“Yeah, mine too,” said the Giant, “not Rock’s.”

“I saw how much money was in that safe, boss,” said Casings. “I figured there was no way you’d want that much money to get away from you.”

“So everything you two did, it was all for my sake, huh?” Grolin said dubiously.

“Not just for your sake,” Casings said. “It was for all of us. Rock did say he couldn’t let that much money slip through his hands—I couldn’t blame him.”

“Me neither,” said the Giant.

“Sounds like you two are really sold on Avrial Rochenbach.”

“We call him Rock,” said the Giant.

“So I hear,” said Grolin, still puffing.

Casings gave a shrug.

“You told us to keep an eye on him and tell you what we think,” he said. “I figure you want the truth.”

“I do,” said Grolin, “so give it to me.”

“The man is damn good at what he does,” said Casings. “He opened that safe like it was never locked. When we found Bonham and Batts murdered and robbed, he threw right into the chase with us. When we caught up to Macon Ray and his men, Rock took them down while Giant and I kept the other three busy.”

“I see,” said Grolin, listening intently. “Let me ask you this. If he’s so good, where the hell’s the money?”

Casings and the Giant looked at each other.

“When we found them, the money was gone,” said Casings. “That’s all we can tell you about it.”

“And you’d both tell me the same thing, if I had Penta and a couple of the boys work on your fingers and toes with a ball-peen hammer?” Grolin asked.

Casings withstood the harshness of the threat, feeling no real rage behind the gang leader’s words.

“There’s no other way we can say it, boss,” Casings said. “It’s all the sweet gospel truth.”

Grolin stared them down and puffed on his cigar. He wasn’t about to get any stronger with the Giant in his office, nobody covering him with a rifle or shotgun. If they were lying to him, he’d find it out in due time.

“It’s near suppertime. Both of you get chowed down and tend to your horses,” he said. “Get yourselves some rest and be ready to ride out tonight.”

“Yeah, the big job…,” Casings said, smiling.

“Every job we do is a big job,” said Grolin dismissingly. “You’ll know where you’re going once you get there.”

Outside his office, Grolin stood on the landing at the handrail as the two men walked down the stairs toward the bar. He looked at the bar and gave a nod to Denton Spiller and a young gunman named Doyle Hughes, who stood flanking Rochenbach, rifles loosely in hand.

“Your turn, Rochenbach. Let’s go,” Spiller said, stepping back from the bar and gesturing Rock and Hughes to the stairs.

Rochenbach took his time, downing his shot glass of rye, timing it so he would cross paths with Casings and the Giant as they came across the floor.

“I said, let’s go, damn it!” said Spiller. He started to grab Rochenbach by his arm, but the look Rochenbach gave him stopped him cold.

Above them, Grolin watched with a slight grin, seeing how expertly Rochenbach managed to take Spiller’s temper to the boiling point, then defuse it as he saw fit.

You’re good, Rock. That’s for sure, Grolin told himself, watching Rochenbach turn from the bar and walk over to the staircase.

Rochenbach and the two riflemen stopped until Casings and the Giant stepped off the bottom stair and walked toward the bar. In passing, Rochenbach’s eyes met Casings’ for only a second. But in that second he saw Casings reassuring him that everything was all right. Grolin had no problem with them trying to retrieve the money—he had bigger plans in the making, Rochenbach decided.

Climbing the stairs behind Spiller, Rochenbach stared up at Grolin. When the three men topped the stairs and Spiller started toward the office door, Rochenbach stopped cold and looked at Grolin.

“Tell me, Grolin,” he said, as Spiller turned around facing him, “am I working for you, or am I a prisoner here?”

“What a thing to ask, Rock,” Grolin said cagily. “Of course you’re working for me.”

“Then why am I walking between these idiots?” Rock asked. “I know my way around.”

Spiller and Hughes started to flare up, but Grolin stopped them both with a raised hand.

“All right, Dent, you and Hughes go back to the bar. We’re good here.”

Spiller stared coldly at Rochenbach, but he turned and gave Hughes a nod. Rochenbach and Grolin watched the two walk back down the stairs.

Grolin chuckled and said, “One word from me, Rock, Spiller would love to gut you.” He turned, stepped over and opened his office door. “Why do you keep him so stoked up?”

“I don’t know,” said Rock. “I suppose because it’s so easy to do.”

Rochenbach followed Grolin inside the office. He took off his hat and stood at the front of his desk as Grolin walked around behind it. Grolin gestured toward a chair. Rochenbach seated himself as the outlaw leader sat down behind his wide oak desk.

“I’ve got no questions for you about the Hercules Mining money,” Grolin said. “I figure anything Casings and the Giant didn’t tell me, you won’t tell me either. Anyway, it was a fluke, that much money being in the safe.”

“Fluke money still spends,” Rock said.

“Forget it,” said Grolin. “The job was a practice run to see if you could open a Diebold safe.”

Rochenbach only stared at him, confident.

“From what everybody tells me, you’re the best,” Grolin said.

“Obliged,” said Rock. “But practice run or not, I hate losing that much money.”

“So do I,” said Grolin, “but it’s over and done. I can’t let it distract me from something bigger.” He stuck his cigar in his mouth and stared knowingly at Rochenbach.

“So we’re all set?” Rochenbach asked.

“Yep, Thursday night—four days from now, we ride,” said Grolin. “There’s a big shipment coming out. We’re going to be waiting for it.”

“All right,” said Rochenbach, perking up in the chair. “Tell me all about it.”

“Nothing to tell,” Grolin said. He grinned and puffed on his cigar. “I’ve got everything covered. Now get out of here. Take a few days, rest, relax, enjoy everything the Lucky Nut has to offer. Come Thursday, be ready to ride out and make us both rich.”

“It will be my pleasure,” Rochenbach said, standing, putting his hat on and turning toward the door.

On the landing, Rock looked down at the bar but saw that all of Grolin’s men were gone. All right…, he told himself, heading down the stairs. He would find Casings and the Giant later. Right now he needed to report to his field superior, let him know that Thursday was set for the robbery. Other details he’d have to pass along as they came to him—if they came to him, he thought. If not, he was on his own. But that was all right. He was used to working alone.