Free The Cassidy Posse by D. N. Bedeker Page B

by the police station and get him out,” said Nell.
    “Don’t bother,” she shouted as her nephew pulled her away. “You know how it goes. Once those cops see it’s us, they’ll drag it out all night just to mess with us.”
    “Okay,” Nell waved as she got inside the carriage and closed the door shutting out the elements.
Walter
, she thought,
yes, that was the taller one’s name
. Her nephew was named Walter. And Clarence was known by a nickname. Binky. Edith’s nephew was Walter and his friend was Binky. One was more disreputable than the other. When they were just starting out and desperate, she would run to the window after a rich client had left and signal Binky as to where the unsuspecting mark kept his wallet. She had actually stood in the window and grabbed her tit if he kept it in his coat pocket or her ass if he kept it in his pants pocket. Walter and Binky would always set the mark up a few blocks away from the Palace so he did not suspect. The impressive-looking Walter, always suitably dressed, would stop the gentleman for directions and the dexterous Binky, always playing the fool, would run into him and relieve the mark of his wallet.
    God, she was crazy back then. It had been a lot of fun. The excesses of youth filled the days with excitement. It was like she exploded from her strict Catholic upbringing. She did not like to think what those two characters had on her.
    The carriage made a right turn and the glow of the street lights disappeared. She pulled back the curtain of the carriage window and saw garbage cans and litter. They were in an alley.
    “Driver,” she yelled angrily, “Where in the hell are you going?”
    “Just pulling over a second to adjust the rigging,” he answered but he did not stop.
    She did not recognize the voice as one of the regular driver’s. It was very deep and low. She had heard that voice before. That afternoon. Fear rushed through her body like a prairie grass fire. She threw open the door and was looking for a soft spot to land when the carriage came to an abrupt stop. She launched herself out the door and was free for a brief moment before a huge hand came over the top of the carriage and caught her in midair. The huge hand closed around her throat and pulled her back towards the carriage. Nell clawed at the thick fingers with both hands as the life was crushed out of her. Her new satin shoes kicked helplessly against the polished lacquer side of the carriage. In a few minutes, the thrashing stopped and the huge hand released Nell’s lifeless body. It fell to the pavement and rolled into the garbage of the backstreets of Chicago.

CHAPTER 9
ROCK SPRINGS, WYOMING

    Mike and Patrick moved as old men down the muddy main street of Rock Springs. Their bodies did not easily forgive the torture of several days extended rail travel in standard coach.
    “I feel like somebody hit me in the back with a two-by-four,” said Patrick.
    “Quit yer belly aching and help me tuh find the Marshal’s office,” said Mike, grimacing with each step.
    “How hard can it be? This looks like the only street with any businesses on it.”
    They walked the plank sidewalk along an unimpressive line of wooden facade buildings until they stood in front of one that boasted of a lady barber. A freshly-shaven man exited looking quite content with a shave and haircut that was enhanced by the temporary feminine company.
    “Hey, buddy, where can I find Marshal Parker?” asked Mike.
    He gave them a cursory glance and pointed to a solitary two-story building. “You’ll find the Marshal’s office just past the hotel.”
    “Thank you,” said Patrick.
    The man nodded politely and then put on his hat to protect his close-shaven head from the chilly spring breeze that blew down the open street. They held their overcoats closed at their throats as they walked along. Mike looked up at the dust blowing off the tops of the barren hills that surrounded the town.
    “I thought Chicago was duh windy