Wyoming Shootout (Gun For Wells Fargo Book 2) by G. Wayne Tilman

Author:G. Wayne Tilman [Tilman, G. Wayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781647342876
Publisher: Wolfpack Publishing
Published: 2021-02-16T16:00:00+00:00

7

The sheriff was correct about a posthumous trial. Pope delivered his ballistics testimony and it was used to find Cletus Hazeltine guilty of the murder of EB Carson and the wounding of one of the two Wells Fargo men posthumously. Perhaps more importantly, the testimony and its exhibits showing the bullets and the guns got wide coverage in the press. Hume was as pleased about the ballistics coverage advancing in the minds of prosecutors and citizens alike as he was the treasure recovery.

The two detectives prepared an encrypted executive summary and a ten-page case closure on the train and stage robberies and shootings and sent it by express to Hume.

“Well, the world famous and feared partnership of Watson and Pope has closed another one!” Pope said at the hotel restaurant. They had Champagne with dinner, on their own tab.

“We surely did, dear John. I still did not like you riding off like Don Quixote in the middle of a snowstorm though.”

“Who?”

“Never mind. It does not matter. I realize there are some trails you can make better time on alone. I don’t like it, but I accept it,” she said.

“Look, Sarah. Nobody considers you more an equal than I do. But there are some things you’ll always be better on. And somethings I will. It’s what makes us such a good team. I will always be bigger and stronger. It’s just the way it is. And, I have a lifetime on the trail. Just a fact,” he said.

Then, smiling, he raised the Champagne flute and offered a toast.

“To windmills. They don’t shoot back!”

“He continually surprises me,” she thought, but said nothing as she smiled and touched glasses with a “clink.”

Later she asked, “Think we can sleep through the night without an explosion or something equally disruptive?”

“Probably not. It’s cold, snowing and approaching midnight. Why should everybody else be up and not us?” he asked.

“I need to know something. How in hell do you know anything about Spanish literature?”

“My grandfather made me read Don Quixote when I was learning Spanish. So, I read it in the original Castilian.”

“Are you going to continue to surprise me?” she asked.

“Every single day for the next sixty or so years.”

“Got any teasers for now?” she asked.

“Hmmm. Maybe. Did I ever tell you my grandfather is pretty versed on Indian religion?”

“I am assuming not Hindu,” she said.

“All but Cheyenne the most. I don’t know where he learned so much, but he promised to tell me one day. He said it was a story which would take time and emotion to tell.”

“Mysterious.”

“He was certainly mysterious, all right. Anyway, he believes we all have spirit animals to look over us and guide us. American Indians know about this. Most whites do not have a clue about it.”

“How do spirit animals square with Christianity?” she asked.

“I asked him the same question. He said to think of them like the angel on your shoulder. Then, you would not have to worry about a conflict. Seemed reasonable to me,” Pope said.

“Do you have a spirit animal then?” she asked.

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