“Stay here and make sure they don’t leave.” He kept his voice to a whisper. “I’m going for help, then we’ll go in through the front.”
James nodded, then pulled aside his jacket to reveal a pistol tucked in the waistband of his trousers. Why hadn’t Enoch thought to arm himself?
Because he’d come to his wedding, and strapped with a pistol didn’t seem the right attire to greet his bride with.
He spun and charged down the alley to the nearest opening between the buildings. He needed the sheriff and his brothers from the river, then they could go through the saloon’s front door to stop that madman.
When he emerged onto the street, he could see the others standing under the cottonwoods. He halted to yell, “Sheriff!”
Robert had already seen him though, and was striding toward him. Enoch waved for them all to come, and SheriffHawkins and his two brothers broke into a run. Even Mandie’s father and Bea started toward him at a fast clip.
He turned toward the front of the saloon and waited just outside the door for the others. Better to enter with the sheriff than by himself.
As soon as the men reached him, Enoch spat out the details. “Clayton has them. We think they’re being held in the back room of the saloon.”
The sheriff’s weathered face hardened. “You certain?”
“Found these in the alley.” Enoch held up the broken ivory combs. “We heard Clayton’s voice through the back door.”
Hawkins nodded and turned to stare at the saloon door. Probably making a plan. “I don’t think Nelson would have anything to do with this, but your man Clayton might have simply found a quiet spot to work from.” He stepped forward and pushed the door open.
Enoch followed close, the others right behind him.
The dim interior reeked of stale beer and tobacco. Nelson, the owner, looked up from sweeping behind the bar, his bushy eyebrows rising at the sight of their group.
“Sheriff? What brings you—” The man’s gaze took in their grim expressions and the way they all stayed grouped together. “Something wrong?”
Hawkins stepped closer. “Is there anyone else here? In the back?”
Nelson shook his head. “Will doesn’t come until four. Why?”
Sheriff Hawkins rested an arm on the bar. “No one in your storage room?”
Nelson reared back as he frowned. “Shouldn’t be. Why would you ask that?”
Hawkins eyed him. “We have reason to believe someone’s holding two women in your back room against their will.”
Nelson’s brows shot up. “That’s not possible. I keep that room locked.” He reached into his vest pocket, then froze. He patted frantically at his vest, then his trouser pockets. “My keys…they’re gone.”
Enoch’s jaw clenched.
“When did you last see them?” Hawkins straightened, pulling away from the bar.
“This morning when I opened up.” Nelson’s voice shook. He spun like he would charge down the hall to inspect the storeroom himself.
The sheriff raised a hand. “Hold up. We do this smart, or those ladies could get hurt.”
Nelson paused and nodded.
The sheriff moved around the bar, keeping his voice low. “Is there another way into that room?”
Nelson shook his head. “Just the one door from the hallway. That last one before you go outside.”
“James is watching the back of the building.” Enoch’s hands curled into fists. Every second they spent planning was another moment Mandie was trapped with that monster.
“Good.” The sheriff turned to them all. “Here’s what we’ll do. Nelson, you stay here in the main room in case we need you. Mr. Sinclair, keep near the front door—make sure no one else comes in. The rest of us will move down that hallway, quiet as we can.” He drew his sidearm, checking the cylinder.
“When we reach the door, I’ll listen first. When I give the signal, we charge in. Fast and hard, so Clayton doesn’t have time to hurt the women.”
