Free Adios Angel by Mark Reps

every one of
them himself.  I suspect he was full of b.s.”
    “I bet there’s a story behind that.”
    “He was the fattest human being I have ever seen. 
When I met him, I wondered if it would take a stick of dynamite to blast him
out of his chair.”
    Zeb shook his head.  Same old Josh.  Always full of
bull.
    “Most of these horns are from mountain animals that
would require a fair amount of walking to get to.  The schmuck even had a bunch
of phony photographs with himself dressed in a safari outfit standing by
freshly killed animals.  He couldn’t remember where he had been hunting and
couldn’t match the animals with the horns in his collection.  It doesn’t
matter.  I bought them for display purposes.  I like the way they look.”
    Josh had a keen eye and a clever tongue.  Zeb eyed the trophy
horns and the tersely worded sign hanging just below them.
    ALL EXPLOSIVES REQUIRE PROPER
PERMITS.
    NO EXCEPTIONS!
    DON’T EVEN
ASK!!
    “What about the ammunition?  Where was it taken from?”
    Josh motioned the sheriff behind the counter and
through a pair of swinging doors into the back half of the store.
    “Those old doors came with the place. I think they’re
originals. I fell in love with them the minute I saw them.  They give the
building an honest to goodness old west flavor. They make me feel like a kid
again.”
    “Like you ever grew up,” said Zeb.
    “This is my business office.  That’s being a grown-up,
isn’t it?”
    Zeb shook his head.  The room, lit by the bright glare
of incandescent bulbs, was divided in half.  Toward the front was an
old-fashioned green bank safe with SANTE FE STAGECOACH COMPANY written
in faded black lettering.  Next to the safe was a roll top desk with several
piles of neatly stacked paperwork and a small number of framed pictures. 
Against the back wall, on either side of a massive door, in padlocked metal
lockers were cases with hundreds of boxes of ammunition. He already had what he
needed.  The weathered oaken door had two locking mechanisms--a dead bolt and a
two by four piece of wood in a U-shaped bracket.  It appeared fairly
impenetrable. The rest of the room was bare except for an area rug and a
calendar.  The calendar was headlined FRENCH LIVERY and STABLES with the date
1914. 
    “Did the calendar come with the building too?”
    Zeb walked over to the calendar and took a look at the
pictures sitting atop Josh’s desk.  One of them was of Josh wearing a cowboy
shirt, hat and holster.  He looked to be about four years old.  Next to it was
a wedding picture.  The man looked happy, beaming broadly and not looking at
all uncomfortable in his ill-fitting suit.  Darkened skin and a tan line across
the forehead made it obvious the man worked in the sun and wore a hat.  The
stunningly beautiful bride looked radiant in her wedding dress.  
    “Yes, it did.  The French family put up this building
in 1906.  They used it as a livery stable until the Second World War.  I
checked it out at the library.  I found some early pictures of the building at
the Safford Historical Society.  I’m thinking of having them enlarged and framed. 
I think they would look great hanging in the store.”
    “Hell, you know more about my hometown than I do,”
said Zeb.
    “People are paying homage to the past more and more
these days.  My dad used to tell me you can’t know where you’re going unless
you know where you’ve been,” said Josh.
    “A philosopher too?” said Zeb.
    “Well rounded.  This is where the ammo was taken
from.”
    “It doesn’t look like anything else was disturbed.”
    “I didn’t touch a thing.  If I hadn’t just completed
an inventory, I might have not missed it at all.”
    “How did they manage to enter the building?  I didn’t
notice any damage to the front door,” remarked Zeb.
    “Stay right where you are and look toward the back of
the building,” replied Josh.
    Josh flipped the lights off.  The overly bright