Disclaimer: Alias Smith and Jones does not belong to me. This is fan fiction, not for profit.

Any references to people, places, businesses, etc. are entirely fictitious.

A/N – story presumes the details on the wanted posters are not entirely accurate. Story exists in the same No Amnesty - Smith and Jones story verse as previous stories.

Story title: Tricksters

Chapter 1: Between a Rock and a Hard Place

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"How much money have you got left?"

Kid's swift, sure fingers tightened the cinch on his bay before he glanced at his partner. Heyes' black shirt clung to his chest in the hot stable, his unbuttoned brown vest flapped loosely as Heyes' raised his arm and rubbed the back of his neck. He already had his black gelding saddled and ready to go. The sturdy creature swatted his tail against the buzzing insects.

"Enough."

Kid loosened the collar of his white shirt. The tan jacket he wore was lighter than his sheepskin, but too warm inside the livery. Heyes led his horse out of the stable. Kid followed. A fresh breeze was a welcome relief. The slender mastermind in front of him turned back to face him. Dark brown eyes narrowed as Heyes regarded Kid quizzically.

"Enough for another stage ticket?" prodded Heyes. "We could telegraph Lom. I'm sure Thaddeus Jones could try for amnesty in New Orleans just as well as New Mexico."

Blue eyes glanced east. Kid swallowed. The Southwest Territorial stage headed east earlier with Michele Monet and another piece of his heart. This was the second time his partner had mentioned going to New Orleans. Heyes' current suggestion was a bit more specific than a vague someday and didn't say anything about Joshua Smith going too. Kid shook his curly blond head. Sometimes Heyes got some peculiar ideas, Kid needed to set his cousin straight.

"You worry too much. I'm not going to New Orleans," stated Kid. "I told Michele she oughta marry a banker."

The well-muscled man placed a brown boot in his stirrup and mounted. Heyes snorted an objection before hoisting himself upwards into his own saddle. Nimble fingers reached for his black hat and placed it upon his head at a jaunty angle.

"Some ladies like bank robbers better than bankers," smirked Heyes.

"These days, I don't have much to do with banks," reminded Kid.

Kid nudged his horse forward, setting the pace at an unhurried walk. As they reached the edge of this tiny border town, Heyes turned sideways.

"Seeing as how you paid for Michele's trip back to New Orleans, I tucked a hundred from my share of our earnings from Mr. McKendrick into her guitar case when she wasn't looking," informed Heyes.

Kid's eyebrows went up. When had that happened? When he was kissing Michele goodbye? The watchful man turned his gaze towards his partner. Heyes beamed. Kid's eyes travelled past Heyes' self-satisfied dimpled grin to rest for a moment on the bulging saddlebags before moving on to Heyes' bedroll. Every step the gelding took bounced parcels tied to the blankets. Kid's own saddlebags and bedroll were similarly stuffed and his sheepskin jacket was tied across the top of it all. The twenty-seven year old wondered how much money Heyes had left after providing for Michele and stocking them both up with so many supplies.

"Glad I loaded the guitar in the stage with Michele, instead of on the roof like the driver wanted," remarked Kid. "Wouldn't want that kinda money getting lost."

"No sense in loading everything on top," agreed Heyes. "She's got a long ride today. There's plenty of room in the coach, I'm sure she'll open the case soon to play something. She'll find the money then."

"What is it you're always telling me about doin' good deeds?"

"Kid, she's gonna have expenses and I figured Michele wouldn't want to take money from you," explained the genius.

"You're right, she wouldn't take any travelling money, said the tickets cost too much," replied Kid.

"This way Michele will have enough to cover meals and hotels, maybe even a little extra for when she gets to New Orleans," declared Heyes.

The confident strategist turned to face west. Heyes jiggled the reins slightly, urging the black into a slow trot. Kid leaned forward. The bay picked up its pace, easily matching the other horse's gait.

"Yep," agreed Kid. "Especially when she finds the envelope I slipped into her carpet bag."

Heyes' head snapped around. His jaw hung open for a moment before he spoke. Kid straightened up in his saddle. Ahead of them, the rutted dirt road twisted around a stand of piñon pines and continued onward bearing slightly north, northwest. No other riders or wagons appeared as far as Kid's sharp eyes could see.

"Envelope? What envelope?" spluttered Heyes.

"The one with the last of my share from the money Mr. McKendrick paid us," Kid's calm voice answered.

"The money Mr. McKendrick paid us?" squawked Heyes. "You gave it all to Michele?"

"No," clarified Kid. "Most of it went to the man at the stage depot for her tickets east. I just gave her what was left."

He gathered the reins in his left hand. With his right hand, he pulled his brown hat up from where it bounced between his shoulder blades and settled it firmly over his tousled dark gold curls. Kid tilted the brim down, shadowing his face against the bright sun.

"You said you had enough money," reminded Heyes. "How much money do you have left? How much is enough?"

"Same as when we first started out to Mexico, two dollars and forty-seven cents."

"And that's enough? Enough for what?"

"Heyes, I don't want to hear it," murmured Kid.

"But that was…"

"How much did you pay for that roan in Union Flats?"

Kid's lips pressed into a smirk at the sudden silence from his partner. Heyes had spent nearly every bit of the money they'd earned shooting cougars to purchase an overpriced sway backed animal that couldn't gallop ten minutes without getting winded.

"It was the only horse for sale!" protested Heyes. "It was worth every cent so I could ride after you!"

"Seeing Michele safely on her way home was worth every cent too," replied Kid.

The unspoken thought, so Kid could ride after Heyes, hung between the partners as they reached the stand of trees. Heyes' shoulders slumped. The older Kansan pulled the black gelding to a stop in the dappled shadows. Kid reined in his horse as well, bringing his big animal to a halt.

"You don't have to keep riding with me Kid." The genius continued, finally stating the thought behind his question about money. "Nobody would know you in New Orleans, you could have a nice normal life with no one shootin' at you."

"Somebody's gotta watch out for you."

Kid's steady blue eyed gaze challenged the depths of his partner's dark brown. The gaze declared I'm not leaving you in no uncertain terms. Instead of providing the reassurance that Kid intended, his unspoken words seemed to make matters worse.

"I should never have brought you into the outlaw business," groaned Heyes.

The brooding, guilty expression on Heyes' face was one Kid recognized. He'd seen his partner get in this kind of mood before. What triggered the guilt fest this time? Despite Kid's continuous objections, Hannibal Heyes still felt responsible for leading younger cousin his astray.

"Would you quit it!" snapped Kid.

"You were seventeen…"

"Yeah," interrupted Kid. "I was seventeen when I followed you out of Texas into a life of crime."

Heyes flinched as if Kid had struck him. The normally patient fast draw had never agreed with his partner before. Being an outlaw was never some calculated get rich quick scheme. When life forced them in separate directions, they'd both gotten in trouble. Heyes with the law, Kid with a gun. Becoming wanted men hadn't been a Hannibal Heyes plan, nor a Jedidiah Curry plan. The brawny younger man continued relentlessly. He had to make his cousin understand. If Heyes was guilty, so was Kid.

"As I recall, you wanted to stay in San Francisco five years ago," reminded Kid. He used nearly the same words his partner had moments earlier. "Nobody would know you in San Francisco, you could have stayed, started another gang or ran cons with Silky or maybe got an honest job. You coulda had a nice normal life…"

"That's not the same thing!" objected Heyes.

"It is too!" insisted Kid. "You followed me out of San Francisco into a life of crime."

A sharp inhalation was followed by dark eyes narrowing in annoyance, but Kid glared right back Heyes. Kid knew what brought his cousin to Texas all those years ago. The same emotion had led Kid to follow Heyes into Devil's Hole, and years later to walk away from his partner in San Francisco with some foolish comment about the city being uncivilized. That emotion also led his partner to follow Kid out of San Francisco despite Heyes' obvious love for the city. The sound of evergreen branches rustled in the soft breeze as Heyes exhaled. The wiry man sat up straighter in his saddle, squaring his shoulders. A warm smile spread across his face. Kid answered with a grin.

"You're right. I shoulda known better," smirked Heyes. "I can't imagine what I was thinking."

"You weren't thinking," chuckled Kid.

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"Do you really want to camp here?"

Kid glanced back up the incline. Heyes was still mounted. The tactician had brought his horse down the slope from the trail and stopped at the first stony ledge. An orange sliver of the setting sun peered over the stony outcropping above Heyes' head. Shadows covered the rock face behind him. Light was fading fast. His partner tilted his black hat back. Although his Heyes' face was in the shadows, Kid could see the planner's lips tighten into a frown.

"There's something…"

"Somethin' what?" demanded Kid.

"I don't know," answered Heyes. His shoulders shrugged. "Just something strange about this place. I can feel it."

Kid snorted in disbelief. He trusted his partner's instincts, but he didn't pick up any sense of danger in this place. Kid had led his horse further down the slope, closer to the water. Something splashed in the river behind him. Kid didn't bother to turn at the small noise. The deep eddies as the stream turned beneath the cottonwoods probably held fish. The splash wasn't a worrisome noise, just a sign of life. A good noise in Kid's opinion.

"This place has water, grazing for the horses, wood and a flat rocky area suitable for a campfire," pointed out Kid. "The only thing strange about this spot is that there isn't anyone already here."

"We haven't seen anybody since we left town," reminded Heyes.

"Right," replied Kid. "Then it's settled, we're camping here tonight."

The sinewy former outlaw turned back to the bay he'd been riding. Kid began to loosen the cinches on the tired creature's saddle. Behind him, Kid heard his partner dismount. Light footsteps followed by clomping hooves announced Heyes' approach.

"Don't you hear the music?" called Heyes' soft voice.

"What?"

Kid's big hands stilled. He looked over his shoulder at his partner. The wind whistled, fluttering the leaves on the cottonwoods.

"There!" Heyes raised a finger beside his ear. "Don't you hear it?"

"The only thing I hear besides you yammering is water splashing and the wind blowing."

"No," insisted Heyes. "There's a flute playing too."

"Wouldn't we see someone playing a flute if they were close enough for you to hear them?"

Heyes didn't say anything for a moment. Kid glanced around. The trail above them was flat ground for miles in every direction. Scrub brush and small rocks didn't leave anyone hiding room. The slope they were now on had a jumble of rocks up by the road and a stand of trees by the river. The sliver of sunlight peeking over the rocks beyond his partner narrowed. There was really only one place for anyone to hide.

"Do you want me to go look on the other side of the cottonwoods?"

For a moment, Kid thought his cousin might take him up on his offer. Then Heyes shook his head. The shrewd man turned to his horse and began to loosen the straps holding his bedroll and packages.

"Don't be ridiculous, it musta been the wind," chuckled Heyes. "Nobody can stand in water that deep and play a flute too."

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"That's better."

Kid sighed in contentment as he scraped the last of the dry dust from his clothes and exposed skin. He stepped back towards the campsite and held the long handled dry brush out towards his partner.

"Do you want to brush off the trail dust?" Kid offered.

"Nah, I did a quick wash up when I got the water for the coffee."

"I can finish cooking."

The fire crackled in the darkness. A warm circle of light enveloped the two men. On the other side of the glowing flames, his partner sat stirring the contents of the frying pan. The smell of beans and bacon frying set Kid's mouth to watering.

"Finish cooking. Is that what you call it?" teased Heyes. "You sure finished the last meal you cooked, burned those biscuits to a crisp…"

"You didn't complain while you were eating 'em," retorted Kid.

"I never complain to the cook." grinned Heyes. "Even if he can't cook."

"I can cook!"

"Not tonight," smirked Heyes. "Supper's ready."

Heyes pulled the frying pan away from the fire and gestured towards Kid's gear. His bedroll was spread out on the soft ground. The gleaming Colt lying on Kid's blanket reflected the flickering flames. His brown hat rested on top of his saddle at the far end of the blanket. The edge of his tin plate was visible from his open saddlebags.

"Get your plate," urged Heyes.

Kid strode a few quick steps across the camp to stand on the soft dirt where his bedroll was laid out. He picked up his tin dish and held it out towards his partner. Kid pulled his plate back as Heyes started to scoop out a third heaping spoonful. The hungry man settled back on his blanket while Heyes scraped the other half of their supper into his own dish. For a few minutes, the only sounds were the scraping of spoons across plates, the snap and pop of sparks from the fire, and the low hoot of an owl from the cottonwoods. It wasn't until Kid's plate was nearly empty that he spoke again.

"If we're sleeping rough again tomorrow night, we oughta stop riding earlier," suggested the practical man. "I should be able to fetch us up a jackrabbit or something if it's light enough to see."

"Based on the map I saw this morning at the stage depot, we'll reach the crossroads tomorrow," informed Heyes. "Depending upon which way we go, we should be in a town before sundown."

Kid looked across at his partner.

"Do we have enough money to stay in town?"

"Sure, if we can get a room for two dollars or less," nodded Heyes. "The forty-seven cents is enough to get me into a poker game…"

Kid's eyes widened as the significance of the amounts registered.

"You mean you don't have any money?"

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"What took you so long?"

"Checked the tethers on the horses before I washed up the dishes."

Kid strode up the slope from the edge of the stream carrying the frying pan, spoons and tin plates. Heyes sipped the last of his coffee. Flames danced in the firelight reflected in his dark eyes. The man of action settled the damp cookware to dry on the flat rocks surrounding the fire. Kid reached inside his lightweight brown jacket and withdrew crumpled paper and coins from his inside coat pocket. He held the money out towards Heyes.

"Here," urged Kid. "You'll get a better start at a poker game with all of it. We can get a hotel room after you win some more."

"You got a lot of confidence in me Kid," murmured Heyes. "Might not win."

"Phhht. That'll be the day."

Heyes didn't move to take the money. The long legged blond knelt down beside his cousin and thrust the last of their hard earned money towards him. Still Heyes didn't lift a finger to take the money.

"What's wrong?"

The former safe cracker set his empty coffee cup down and shrugged his shoulders. Heyes lifted his hands upwards on either side of his shoulders in a common gesture.

"Taking all your money feels like I'm robbing you," muttered Heyes.

"Better not let the Governor know," chuckled Kid.

Heyes' lips quirked up a bit at Kid's joke. Kid swift hand shot out and snatched his partner's nearest hand. He shoved the money into Heyes' hand and tightened his grasp slightly, closing Heyes' narrow tapered fingers over their combined wealth.

"This isn't a robbery," corrected Kid. "This is us, being partners."

Heyes stared at his fisted hand in surprise. Kid sat down on his blanket and began pulling his boots off.

"Kid," whispered Heyes. "I..."

"Do you mind taking first watch?" Kid interrupted.

The muscular man's attempt to forestall any sentimental claptrap seemed to work. Heyes tucked the crumpled bills and coins into his vest pocket. Kid placed his boots next to his holster and leaned his head back against his saddle. He stretched and flexed his feet, wiggling his toes, loosening muscle tension.

"We haven't seen anyone since leaving town this morning," reminded his talkative partner. "We don't need a watch tonight."

"We always need a watch," objected Kid. "Wake me at midnight."

"What for? That owl?"

"No, owls don't bother me."

Kid reached for his floppy brown hat. He placed his hat over his eyes and yawned.

"Invisible flute players, now that's a worry," teased Kid.

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"Mmmph."

Kid ran his tongue across his teeth and smacked his lips again. He pushed his hat off to one side and blinked in the early morning sunlight. A striped blanket that hadn't been on his chest when he fell asleep last night told him his partner had been up in the night. He pushed the extra blanket away as he sat up.

"You didn't wake me," grumbled Kid.

Beside him, Heyes was rolled over and curled up on his side facing the river. Kid blinked in surprise at the faint carving in the stone beyond his cousin. When they arrived last night it was too dark to see the line drawing etched into the rock, but the humpbacked musician was clearly visible in the morning light.

"Well I'll be," whispered Kid.

A grin spread across his face. His partner slept on, undisturbed by his low voice.

"I guess maybe there mighta been someone playing the flute last night, although I don't know how you ever heard him."

Kid padded down to the stream in his socks. He knelt at the water's edge to fill the battered old coffee pot. The clear shallow water here was cool, but not too cold. Kid looked towards the deeper water beneath the cottonwoods. Exposed roots along the embankment sank into the dark river. The idea of a quick swim was irresistible. Kid set the pot on a nearby rock and stripped off his clothing. He shivered as he waded through the shallows towards the murky deeper water. Mud crumbled beneath his toes as he reached the edge of the drop off. Kid took a deep breath and jumped. He surfaced a moment later further upstream, breathing hard at the shock of the colder water in the depths. A chittering noise made him turn his head.

"Was that you I heard splashing last night?" grinned Kid.

The otter gave him a mischievous look before it swirled in a tight circle and dove beneath the water again. Kid swam towards the place where the creature had disappeared.

"Don't move!"

Kid's legs lowered, but his feet couldn't find bottom. He swished his arms, treading water.

"I said don't move!"

Kid heard the click of a pistol hammer being cocked. He turned his head to look at the bleary eyed man approaching.

"Be still! I don't wanna shoot you!"

"Heyes, if I don't move I'll sink like a rock," objected Kid. "Now what do you think you're doing?"

"Saving your life!" declared Heyes.

"I don't need saving!"

"There's a snake in the water with you."

"There aren't any snakes here!"

"Look out! It's coming up right in front of you!"

The water swirled in front of Kid's face. A slick round brown head crested the stream's surface. The playful mammal smirked at Kid. Another smaller head bobbed up, followed by two more baby otters.

"What kind of monster is that?"

Disbelief and confusion were evident in Heyes' voice. He rubbed a hand across his eyes. Kid watched the lithe twisting creatures in front of him spin, dive down again and race off, leaving rippling trails behind them.

"That wasn't a snake!" realized Heyes.

"And it wasn't a river monster either!" called Kid.

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"Five miles to Perplexed," read Heyes.

Kid tilted his head to regard the weathered post beside the crossroads. Tilted arrows marked with faded lettering pointed in every direction. A strong gust of wind shook the post.

"Do you really want to go to a town named Perplexed after this morning?" smirked Kid.

Heyes' attempt to rescue Kid was followed by some good natured teasing about river monsters. When Kid finished his swim and got dressed, he joined his partner at the campfire. Heyes had coffee brewing by then but was still rubbing sleepy eyes. It wasn't until Kid had his own cup safe in hand that he showed Heyes the carving of the humpbacked flute player. By that time, the carving was already hidden in the deep shadows of the rocky ledge. If Kid hadn't seen the carving earlier, he doubted either one of them would have ever found it.

"That's gratitude for you," huffed Heyes.

"Oh I am grateful. And I'm glad to have a partner to keep me safe," smirked Kid. "Very glad as a matter of fact."

For a moment, Heyes looked slightly mollified, but then blue eyes twinkled as Kid added the clincher.

"I'm especially glad you didn't shoot me or those poor, defenseless little otters."

Heyes' lower jaw jutted out. Brown eyes narrowed.

"The sun was shining in my eyes! It was an honest mistake," grumbled Heyes. "The trail a swimming otter makes looks..."

Kid's gentle laughter stopped Heyes' ramble in midsentence.

"Aww, forget it!"

Heyes glowered at the younger Kansan. Kid's lips curled up in a grin, but decided now was not the time for more teasing. They needed to get moving. A big hand gestured towards the wobbly signpost.

"Crippled Creek is seven miles," read Kid.

"Not an auspicious name for a town," grumbled Heyes. He pointed to the west. "Golden Glen is eight miles."

"Golden Glen it is," agreed Kid.

The partners urged their horses westward. Behind them, the wind picked up. A flutelike sound echoed through the crossroads. The signpost spun circles wildly in its loose hole before settling to a stop, the arrows tilted askew. The wind laughed as the arrow labeled Perplexed 5 mi pointed after Joshua Smith and Thaddeus Jones.

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"Who would have thought I'd get a job just for complainin' that a signpost needs fixin'?" murmured Kid.

Heyes scooped up the loose bills and coins from the green felt poker table. The other players had already departed, seeking consolation at the bar, leaving the partners alone.

"Coming to Perplexed was good luck," grinned Heyes.

Nimble fingers divided the money into two piles. Heyes pushed one small pile of bills towards Kid. He kept a smaller pile of bills and loose coins for himself.

"Don't say that! You'll jinx us," grumbled Kid as he tucked his portion into his inside coat pocket.

"Let's get a hotel room and some supper," urged Heyes. "You can complain all you want over a steak dinner."

"Eight dollars won't last long with steak dinners, hotel rooms and livery fees," warned Kid.

"We've got more than eight dollars," reminded Heyes.

"Really? How much more?" At Heyes' expansive wave of his hand, Kid added, "Exactly."

"Eight dollars and three cents," admitted Heyes.

Kid rolled his eyes. Chairs scraped against the floor as the two men stood up. The partner's sauntered across the room towards the saloon's swinging doors. Heyes' eyes narrowed to a squint as he stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight. Kid followed. Sharp blue eyes scanned the streets for trouble. Heyes reached for his hat as he continued to walk.

"Oh no," groaned Kid.

Heyes abruptly stopped walking. Kid did not. He thumped into his partner. Heyes' hat tumbled from his hands into the street as the partners did a hurried two step on the wooden walkway to regain their balance.

"What's wrong?" hissed Heyes.

"We've been spotted."

"By who?" demanded Heyes. His neck twisted to the left and then back to the right, searching for danger. "Sheriff? Bounty hunter? Bannerman…"

"No, worse!" declared Kid. A big hand pointed at the svelte brunette standing by the stage depot across the street. "George! She always gets us in trouble!"

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