Gabriel's Outlaw by Sandra Chastain

Author:Sandra Chastain [Chastain, Sandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-345-54178-9
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2013-10-14T00:00:00+00:00

EIGHT

“Go back to Peachtree and head north,” Jessie whispered in Horace’s ear. “The vis-à-vis carriage stand is right there.” She slapped him on the rear. “Go for it, boy!”

The mule galloped away. At the same time Jessie ran inside the bus station. Gabe whipped around the mule, parked the company car, and followed. Ben directed the officers to block off the station and went after Gabe.

Inside the station Jessie slowed her frantic dash to a sedate walk and made her way to the baggage-claim area. “Excuse me?”

The sallow-faced man behind the barred counter turned to face her. “Something I can do for you?”

“Yes. I shipped a package from Dahlonega to Atlanta. I’d like to pick it up, please.”

The worker eyed Jessie’s odd attire, her hair, dried by her wild ride into town, and the bonnet hanging down her back. “What’s the name?”

“Jessie James.”

“Sure, and I’m the Church Lady.”

“No, really. You have a box, a wooden wine crate. It’s addressed to Jessie James, to be held for pickup.”

His expression said plain enough that he didn’t believe her, but he finally turned to the rows of packages and cases behind him.

Gabe, watching from the doorway, took a step into the waiting room and stopped at the end of the row of seats. A disreputable man who was sleeping in the seat at the end opened one eye and let out a yell.

“Don’t hurt me!”

Gabe looked around, unable to comprehend what had set off the man. Then he remembered Jessie’s bomb and looked down at the rivers of red dried across his shirt.

“Sorry, sir,” he said quietly. “I’ve just had a run-in with a can of red dye.”

He dodged around the seat and headed toward Jessie, who was giving the bus employee behind the caged counter a piece of her mind.

“No, I don’t have any identification. I didn’t bring my purse. No, I didn’t drive my car. As a matter of fact, I rode in on a mule.”

“Now don’t get smart with me, lady.”

“I’m not getting smart,” she yelled. “And my name is Jessie James. As a matter of fact,” she said, lowering her voice threateningly, “I have a gun, and if you don’t give me my package, I’m going to show you a new way to get a haircut.”

She lifted the corner of her skirt and draped it over her hand, extending her finger in such a way that he would understand that the hidden object was a gun.

“You’re holding me up?” the clerk asked incredulously.

“I’m trying,” she snapped. “Now, give me that box, and I won’t hurt you. Otherwise …”

“I don’t think so, Jessie,” Gabe said, appearing at her side. “I wouldn’t want anybody else to be wounded.”

The employee took one look at Gabe, slid the package across the counter, and slumped to the floor out of sight.

“Now look what you did, Jessie. You scared the poor man to death.”

“He deserved it,” she said, dropping her skirt and tugging the box through the opening.

“What’s in the box, Jess?”

“Gold, Mr. GBI agent. The gold my grandfather mined and left to use on the capitol dome.

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