Page 39 of Heart of Mystic Valley
He took off at a dead run, boots pounding on the hardpack street. Energy surged through him, making the world around him feel both sharp and dreamlike.
The air was thick with dust as Joshua slowed, taking in the scene. Sheriff Brodie Gaines stood with his hands on his hips. Beside him, Deputy Nash Beaumont shifted restlessly from foot to foot.
Joshua sidled up to the lawmen. He kept his revolver in hand, the barrel pointed at the ground but ready, as he surveyed the large hole in the bank’s outside wall. “Heck of an opening.”
“Looks worse than it is,” Brodie said. “As far as we can tell, no one was hurt.”
Nash squinted into the debris-covered bank interior. “Yet.”
The hole in the wall was massive, a jagged maw exposing the building’s insides. Smoke and dust wafted through the air. Joshua’s eyes traced the outline of the breach, noting the splintered wood and brick. His gut tightened.
“Dynamite,” Joshua said. “More than they needed.”
Brodie grunted in agreement. “Darned fools could’ve brought the whole building down. We’re lucky it held.”
Joshua looked around, searching for faces in the growing crowd. “Any idea who’s behind it?”
“Not yet,” Brodie said. “But we’ll find out. Artemus is checking the safe now.”
The bank president had been in Mystic for years. He was a man who could be trusted, and was often called upon to help settle disputes between the locals.
Brodie turned to Nash. “You see anything?”
The deputy shook his head. “I was doing rounds. Heard the blast and came running. Must’ve just missed whoever did this.”
Joshua took a step toward the ruined wall, peering inside. The bank’s interior was in shambles, furniture overturned and papers strewn about. He saw the outline of a large iron safe against the back wall, the door open. Other than being covered in dust, it showed no damage. Artemus walked toward them, shaking his head.
“Most of the money is gone,” he said to no one in particular. “I don’t know how anyone could’ve blown the wall out, gotten into the safe, stolen the money, and ridden away before any of us got here.”
“I arrived not more than a minute after the explosion,” Brodie said.
Joshua walked around the perimeter of the bank, eyes scanning the ground for anything out of place. He spotted fragments of a wooden crate, the remnants of a fuse, boot prints in the dirt. His mind worked quickly, piecing together a rough picture of what may have happened.
“They knew there wouldn’t be much time between the explosion and when you’d arrive, Brodie,” Joshua said. “Could be the money was already waiting for them.”
“What do you mean?” Artemus asked.
“Someone had the money packed up and ready to go. All the robbers had to do was get into the bank and take it.”
“What are you saying, Beckett? You think one of my employees or I was in on this?” Artemus Graham looked around, once again assessing the scene, this time using Joshua’s input.
Brodie stroked his chin. “It could’ve happened that way. Anyone know the combination other than you?”
Artemus looked at him, then sighed. “Just one person. But he’s been with me since the bank opened.” He didn’t have to say more for them to know he referred to the head clerk, a rotund man with a restrained personality and cherubic face.
Joshua shrugged. “If someone’s desperate enough, they can do almost anything.”
Brodie turned to face him. “You’re saying William Flock packed up the money for the robbers? If so, why the explosion?”
“Could be Mr. Flock already took the money with him. The explosion was theatrics.”
Brodie nodded. “Guess I should find out if Flock is still in town.”
The sound of a galloping horse drew the attention of the assembled townsfolk. A tall, lean figure dismounted with the ease of a man born to the saddle. Deputy Jubal Whitton tied off his horse and strode toward the bank, his face unreadable beneath the brim of his hat.
“Jubal,” Brodie acknowledged. The deputy often patrolled the outskirts of town, a job he often took upon himself.
“What’s the damage?” Jubal asked, his eyes taking in the scene with a slow, deliberate sweep.
