Vengeance Creek: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

61

Cardwell and Jacks entered the lobby of the Columbian Hotel in Trinidad, Colorado. The lobby was busy, but there was no sign of Bart Durant.

“Where is he?”

“Relax,” Cardwell said, hefting his saddlebags up on his shoulder. “He’ll be here. Let’s get a room.”

“Rooms,” Jacks said, tapping his own saddlebags. “I want my own this time.”

“Fine.”

They walked to the front desk, where the clerk gave them a dubious look. They were covered with trail dust from days in the saddle and sleeping on the ground.

“Can I help you?”

“Two rooms,” Cardwell said.

“And baths?” the man asked.

“What are you, a wise—” Jacks started, but Cardwell put his hand on his colleague’s arm.

“Sure,” he said, “we’ll want baths. After all, I’m sure we look terrible.”

“Well,” the clerk said, relenting, “I’m sure you’ve been traveling for quite some time.”

He turned the register around so they could each sign in, then handed them keys to rooms that were right across from each other.

“I’ll have your baths drawn,” he added.

“Thank you.”

Cardwell led Jacks to the stairs.

“Why the hell did you let him talk down to us like that?” Jacks demanded.

“We don’t want to attract any attention, Simon,” Cardwell said. “And baths are a good idea. We stink.”

Jacks lifted his sleeve and sniffed himself, then made a face. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

They went up the stairs and stopped outside their rooms.

“You go for your bath first,” Cardwell said, “and I’ll find Durant.”

“Why don’t I go with you?”

“Because you guys might slap leather as soon as you see each other,” Cardwell said. “I need to talk to him first.”

“You got a point there.”

They unlocked their doors, but before entering the room, Cardwell looked up and down the hallway and said, “Hey.”

“What?”

“Don’t take your saddlebags down to your bath.”

“I ain’t leavin’ them—”

“Hey,” Cardwell said, “how’s it gonna look if you take saddlebags with you to take a bath?”

“Like I want to keep them near me.”

“Yeah,” Cardwell said, “like you got somethin’ in them that’s worth a lot of money.”

“Like I got a lot of money in them.”

“Exactly,” Cardwell said. “You might as well tell everyone what you’re carrying.”

“So what do you expect me to do?”

“Leave it in your room.”

“Wha—”

Cardwell closed the door to his room, stepped across the hall and pushed Jacks into his room, closing the door behind them.

“Nobody knows what we have,” he said urgently. “We can both leave our bags in our rooms while we take baths and talk to Durant.”

“You’re gonna leave yours in your room?” Jacks asked.

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“I tell you what,” Cardwell said, slinging his bags off his shoulder, “I’ll leave them in your room.”

“What?”

“Sure, why not?” Cardwell asked. “You hold onto all the money.”

Jacks narrowed his eyes. “Why would you trust me?”

“Because there’s a lot more money waitin’ for us,” Cardwell said, “and I don’t think you want to miss out on it…do you?”

“No, I don’t, but…”

“But what?”

Cardwell held his saddlebags out to Jacks, who finally reached out and took them.

“Stick them under the bed,” he suggested. “That’s probably as safe a place as any. We’ll only be overnight, nobody’s gonna steal anythin’ from us.”

Cardwell opened the door. “I’m just gonna wash my face and hands in my room, and then go look for Durant.”

“I’ll take my bath,” Jacks said, “and then come right back up here.”

“Good,” Cardwell said, “then I’ll meet you back here.”

After Cardwell left, Simon Jacks put both sets of saddlebags on the bed and opened Cardwell’s. Sure enough, it was stuffed with money. He’d thought maybe Cardwell had taken the money out and replaced it with something else, but apparently the man actually was trusting him with all the money.

That was extremely out of character for him.