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.
Old Friends?
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"Harry Wagener!" exploded Kid. "You want to bring him here?"
The irate forty-seven year old former outlaw's blue eyes popped wide open in disbelief at Heyes' question. The slender, dark haired genius clutched the gnarled firewood he held tightly to his chest, wrinkling his black shirt. Kid leaned in closer, brandishing another split log.
"Lower your voice," admonished Heyes.
The muscular blond glanced over his shoulder at the cabin behind him. Dark brown eyes followed Kid's gaze. The front door on the shadowed porch was barely visible in the twilight, but the warm golden glow of lamplight shining through the windows on either side gave a glimpse to the inside. Jenny Black had her hands full. Thaddeus Jones' self-proclaimed mother sat in a rocking chair near the fireplace, ensconced with the sleepy four year old twins, Charlotte and Carolyn. The older girls, thirteen year old Eliza, nine year old Hannah, and eight year old Jennifer sat at the long narrow table. Books and papers lay scattered between the children. Clem stood between Jennifer and the dark haired boy seated at the end of the table. Arthur looked up and flashed a dimpled smile at his mother.
"You never said anything about bringing him here before!" hissed Kid, in a quieter tone. "Why?"
Heyes' gaze settled on his son's best friend. Kid had once teasingly suggested they might name the child Lorraine if she was a girl, but instead sent Jenny into happy tears when he and Matt declared their third daughter's name to be Jennifer Mercy Jones. Heyes returned his eyes to his partner. Nimble fingers plucked the firewood from Kid's hand and added it to his own load.
"Our favorite lawyer said the parole board agreed to release Harry early," answered Heyes.
A brief smile crossed Kid's face at the mention of the man. Heyes had approached the fledgling attorney about Harry Wagener as soon as he had been licensed to practice in Wyoming. Turning back to face Heyes, the sturdy blond's jaw clenched. Kid rubbed his now empty hand across the faint stubble on his chin. The open collar of Kid's blue shirt gave a glimpse of the vein throbbing in his throat. Heyes swallowed a smile. He could almost hear Kid counting to ten. Finally, Kid spoke.
"Having Harry here ain't safe for our families and the folks around here," warned Kid.
The tall blond bent over to pick up more wood. Kid's movement disturbed a small, striped rodent. The chipmunk scampered away from the woodpile. Stopping at the tree line, the tiny creature turned to chatter angrily before turning and disappearing into the darkness.
"Why not? We've already got the Devil's Hole Gang living here," prodded Heyes. "Why do you object to one more former outlaw? At least Harry's served most of his time!"
"Wheat, Kyle, Lobo and Preacher are family," huffed Kid as he add more firewood to the load he carried. "There was a reason Harry Wagener never was part of our gang! Why we never brought him to Devil's Hole! He's always up to something dangerous."
"He's always coming up with dangerous ideas," agreed Heyes, "but most of those plans never actually came through."
"His last scheme nearly got me killed!" protested Kid.
Heyes narrowed his eyes. Twenty years ago, Harry Wagener, Janet Judson and her daughter Lorraine resorted to kidnapping and threats of murder to inveigle Heyes into doing their bidding. He could still hear Wagener's self-satisfied, gloating voice after being forced to open the Pierce and Hamilton 1878, "Heyes you were beautiful."
"Not likely I'll ever forget that Kid," responded Heyes in a low tone. "But I feel guilty for the way things turned out…"
"What?"
Kid's jaw dropped, his mouth gaping. Blue eyes opened even wider than before, if that was possible. Heyes stopped speaking. His partner stood up, arms laden with kindling.
"Don't tell me you feel guilty about turning him and the money in!"
The incredulity in Kid's tone was evident.
"We did leave him and those women locked up in that jail cell...," began Heyes.
"Robbin' the First National Bank was their idea," interrupted Kid. "And, if you recall, they sure weren't worried about us being blamed for that robbery!"
After leaving the threesome behind bars in the custody of Deputy Lee Harper, the partners hurried out of town. Months later, they learned that Wagener, in a misguided attempt to protect Janet, claimed to be responsible for the robbery and everything involved in pulling it off. Everything.
"Harry brought all that happened afterwards on himself!" declared Kid.
While investigating Wagener's story, Sheriff Baldwin found the homestead where Kid had been held. Signs of Kid's captivity and struggle were still present. Then the lawman examined the shallow grave outside. The recently buried body changed everything. Conflicting stories from Janet and Lorraine only confused matters. Initial charges of murder against Harry were later dropped to manslaughter, but manslaughter in addition to the armed robbery charge sent Wagener to prison for twenty years. Janet and Lorraine both served a lesser sentence.
"He shouldn't have been sentenced to twenty years for his first robbery," countered Heyes.
"First successful robbery," argued Kid. "Or at least first successful robbery that we know about."
"It's not like Harry has any place else to go," coaxed Heyes. "Not after what happened last year."
Kid closed his eyes at the unpleasant reminder. Upon the lady's release, Janet settled in Laramie with her daughter. The older woman visited Harry regularly up until just before Harry was transferred to Rawlins. No one knew what happened exactly, but the women were gone. The Laramie Boomerang reported lurid details of the sheriff's investigation, signs of a struggle, a red streak on the floor leading to the back door, wheel marks in the muddy alley. Heyes wasn't the only person to suspect that one of the women killed the other and dragged the body outside to a waiting wagon.
"Bringing him here is dangerous to us too. The last time we saw him, he was set on turning us in," challenged Kid.
"It's more dangerous not bringing him here," asserted Heyes. "He already knows the names we're using, and he knows we're alive."
Although Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry had finally received amnesty, and the bank and railroad bounties were long cancelled, the reformed outlaws continued to live under the names Smith and Jones. The tricky Governor had left one more obstacle in their path to freedom. The amnesty was posthumous only. Alive, Heyes and Curry were still wanted. The state reward of five hundred dollars wasn't the same incentive as ten thousand dollars, but a vengeful man might not need a lot of motivation.
"After all this time, if he's even thinking about looking for us, Harry will probably be looking for two drifters," argued Kid. "Harry ain't gonna be looking for a librarian named Joshua Smith or a gunsmith named Thaddeus Jones, settled down with wives and children."
"You might be right, except for that newspaper article about the bear cubs that reporter Wilkins wrote a few years back," replied Heyes with a smooth smile.
The look of alarm on Kid's face told Heyes his partner remembered. The Porterville Press printed a human interest article mentioning Thaddeus Jones by name and sporting a photograph of Wheat and Kyle. The article, picked up by a news wire and reprinted in multiple newspapers, had already brought one dangerous person to Thunder Ridge. Two dangerous people, if like Kyle, you counted Wheat's wife Martha as a person not to be crossed.
"Harry might not have..." started Kid.
"Our favorite attorney say's Harry has a clipping of the article," stated Heyes. "And Harry has asked a lot of questions about Thaddeus Jones and Thunder Ridge."
The faint smell of wood smoke wafted through the darkening night air, reminding the men of the chore that had brought them outside.
"We're the closest thing Harry's got to a family now," wheedled Heyes.
"Heyes...," Kid began, shaking his head.
"And if Harry doesn't have any place to go, he has to finish his sentence," cajoled Heyes, bringing out his final argument. "That means another six months in prison."
For a moment Kid stared at his partner in silence.
"You couldn't have said that to begin with?" demanded Kid with a frown. "Why did you even ask if I minded you bringing Harry Wagener to come live at Thunder Ridge?"
"I needed to hear all your arguments against having Harry come here first," smirked Heyes, "to make sure I hadn't missed anything."
"Phht!"
Kid shifted the load of wood in his arms and turned. Long legs strode back towards the cabin. Heyes hurried after his partner.
"Harry Wagener never was a really bad man," reminded Heyes. "Until the First National Bank robbery, Harry was mainly only involved in wild plans that never really went anywhere and a string of confidence schemes."
"He never was much of a conman," remembered Kid. "Even Silky said so."
"And a worse poker player," added Heyes.
They reached the steps. Kid turned to look at Heyes.
"Maybe Silky would take him?" suggested Kid with one last effort. "After all Silky is the one who introduced us, and Harry seemed to like San Francisco."
"I tried already," replied Heyes shaking his head. "Do you wanna know Silky's exact words?"
Kid gave a rueful chuckle as he shook his curly blond head. The sharp tongued nonagenarian was known for speaking his mind, and Silky had never been exactly partial to Wagener.
"No, but I still don't like the idea of Harry Wagener coming here," grumbled Kid.
"Me neither," agreed Heyes as he followed his partner up the porch stairs, "but at least here we can keep an eye on him."
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Heyes shivered in the late spring drizzle. The fringed yellow canopy top over the surrey didn't help much to keep the dampness out while he waited outside the prison. Wagener had been one of the last prisoners transferred from the old prison in Laramie to the new facility in Rawlins. It was shortly before eleven when the cunning Kansan saw young Attorney Hale step through the gates of the prison. The lawyer held his arm deferentially for the older man. Heyes sucked in a deep breath. He knew Harry was a good fifteen years older than Heyes' own fifty-one, but the silver haired confidence man seemed much older.
"Good thing Riordan is bringing you to me," murmured Heyes. "I might not have recognized you Harry."
The former safe cracker watched his favorite lawyer walk slowly alongside the older man before tying down the reins. Heyes eyed Wagener's threadbare coat. He wasn't sure, but it might have been the same coat Harry had bought in San Francisco. Or maybe Harry just liked corduroy patches on his elbows. Either way, determined Heyes, Harry's coat would have to be replaced before winter set in. Heyes ushed back the brim of his black hat and stepped down from the buggy. He straightened the lapels of his gray suit coat and ran his finger along the inside of his tie, before he strode confidently forward to meet the men.
"Harry Wagener," greeted Heyes, extending his hand to the older man. With a sideways nod at Riordan, he added, "Attorney Hale."
Alert eyes lit up in recognition. Strong, knobby fingers grasped Heyes' hand tightly.
"Hey…," began Wagener.
"Joshua Smith," interrupted Heyes. With a pretend glance of warning towards the fledgling attorney, the shrewd strategist added, "Perhaps you don't remember me, but we worked together in San Francisco once."
"We knew each other," acknowledged Wagener in a gravelly voice.
Harry coughed hard, releasing Heyes' hand as he leaning forward, hacking harshly. It was a moment before Wagener straightened up and resumed speaking.
"Hardly recognized you without them long sideburns."
Heyes gave a rueful grin as he rubbed his clean shaven face.
"My whiskers turned gray," admitted Heyes. Running a hand through his dark hair, he lifted a long section to reveal a small section of gray hair just above his ears. "Rest of the hair, except for this spot by my temples, hasn't changed."
"Been a long time."
Heyes nodded in agreement. Still referring to Riordan formally, as if he barely knew the attorney, the mastermind continued.
"Attorney Hale said you were willing to participate in the early release program," continued Heyes in a slick tone."There's a place up in the mountains, hardly anyone ever goes there, but it's…"
"I'm interested in early release, but not in going with you," declared Wagener.
Heyes raised startled brown eyes to look at Attorney Hale. The lawyer's blue eyes hardened.
"Harry, we've gone over this," reminded Riordan in a weary tone that left Heyes wondering how many times the lawyer had explained the deal to Harry. "This is not a pardon and you haven't finished your time. If you don't go with Mr. Smith, I'll be forced to take you back inside to finish out the remainder of your sentence."
Wagener glanced away for a moment. Bright eyes searched the carriage route and front courtyard as if he expected to see an escape route or maybe he was looking for someone. His eyes finally settled on the foreboding prison building.
"Smith, I appreciate the invite. Going with you has got to be better than staying another six months here," rasped Wagener, trying Heyes' alias out. Wagener spoke again, bluntly, very bluntly. "Joshua, I wanna get as far away from this hellhole as possible."
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The drizzle stopped by the time Heyes and Wagener reached the train station. Heyes nodded to the bench in front of the station master's office,
"Wait there while I return the surrey," directed Heyes. "I'll be back to purchase the train tickets in a few minutes."
"Take your time," suggested Harry with a smirk, "and you'll only have to buy one ticket."
Harry nodded towards the alley and moved his right fingertips in a walking motion over the top of his other age spotted hand.
"Harry," warned Heyes with an edge to his voice. "You better be right here when I get back..."
Harry's mouth opened in surprise.
"You're serious?" interrupted Harry.
"Attorney Hale set up your parole and I promised to keep track of your whereabouts," answered Heyes. "If you disappear, he and I both get in trouble with the law."
"I told you, I don't want to go with you," protested Harry. "There's other places I'd rather be than your backwater town."
"Like prison?" asked Heyes.
"You wouldn't!" spluttered Harry in indignation.
"I would," stated Heyes firmly.
"This is kidnapping!"
"Oh no Harry," grinned Heyes with a gleam to his eye, "Kidnapping is taking someone away illegally. Taking you to Thunder Ridge is all legal and above board."
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