"No. She had a pattern. She walked in, sweet as a kid's candy, and asked for the money. She had a revolver. Said men outside would hurt people if the teller didn't do as she said. Walked right on out."
"Didn't you see a pattern after the third time?" I added.
He didn't like that question, for it poked at his intelligence. "I have twelve banks all across the territory. What was I to do, send notice to each one to keep watch for a woman?"
I wasn't sure if he was upset his money was stolen or because it was done by a cunning female.
And now we were supposed to hunt her down, bring her to justice.
That was our job as US Marshals; put criminals in jail. We'd just never had to find a woman before.
"What about the men outside? Don't you want to go after them?"
"One was held, but he had no idea what had happened. He'd just been walking by."
"So she worked alone," Landon stated.
"She's cunning." That was all Rollins said in reply.
"If she really is ‘pleasing to the eye' then surely she would be memorable," Landon said, pointing to the wanted paper. "The local sheriffs would have checked with the train conductors at the very least and known where she'd come from."
When Rollins just shook his head, I asked, "Liveries?"
"No one recognized her, therefore she didn't take the train from town to town. After each of the robberies, she just … disappeared."
A beautiful woman disappearing in the Montana Territory? Impossible. Well, until we found her, it seemed it was possible.
"Then why's she called the Black Widow?" Landon asked, handing the paper back to me, then tucking his hand into his pants pocket. "Isn't that moniker reserved for one who kills her husband?"
If she was as wily as she sounded, I wondered if Rollins should marry her instead of having her taken in by the law. He seemed to be a wily man himself. Perhaps he feared she'd kill him, too.
"Exactly." Rollins pursed her lips, tugged on the lapels of his suit coat. "The teller in the second robbery came up with it. It stuck and makes for salacious news."
I looked down at the paper again, read the details. Wanted Woman: The Black Widow. Young. Pleasing to the eye. Dark hair. Five feet tall. Armed.
"Let's be clear here. You're telling me this slip of a woman robbed three of your banks all by herself?"
Mr. Rollins stood, his jowls swaying. "She did. I want justice."
"How much money did she take?" Landon asked.
"She robbed me blind. Took everything that wasn't in the safes at the time." A vein pulsed in his temple and his skin took on a mottled red tone. I didn't doubt his upset with this woman, but he was rich. He wasn't a copper king like some over in Butte, but he had a damn town named after him.
"Do your job, men. I sent for you because you're better than anyone else at tracking."
That was a true statement. Our record for captures was higher than even the Pinkertons.
"Find her. It can't be all that hard. A woman, for god sakes." He wiped spittle from his lips. "I want her hung for what she did. Three banks." He shook his head in disgust.
Landon pushed off the wall, put on his hat. "We'll find her."
I knew he wasn't eager to go track down a woman, especially when we had one of our own. We needed a honeymoon, not an investigation. For now, though, we could end this meeting and get back to our bride. She'd said she was going to visit her friend, then meet us back at the hotel by noon.
A loud knock had Landon standing upright, turning to the door.
"Enter!" Rollins shouted.
A little man came in, cheeks flushed, eyes wild. Blatantly drunk.
"I'm sorry for interrupting, sir." The words weren't all too clear and extremely slow, as if he had to think hard about each one before he said it.
"Drinking again, Timms?"
The man waved his hand in the air. "Needed some liquid courage," he slurred.
"For what? Gallagher!" Rollins shouted.
Another man came in moments later. He was not drunk and with clear eyes quickly assessed the situation. "Sorry, sir. He hasn't told you?"
Rollins pursed his lips. "No."
"Your bank. It's been robbed," Timms shouted.
"What?" Rollins came around his desk, face turning as red as the messenger. "Which one?"
"The one here in Helena," Gallagher supplied, taking Timms by the arm and steering him toward the door, then pushing him out of it. We heard him stumble in the hallway and mumble. "That's why Timms is … indisposed. He was worried about your response and must have stopped at a few saloons on the way from the bank."
Rollins swore under his breath.
I glanced at Landon. "Was it a woman?" I asked Gallagher.
He nodded. "Appears so. It seems the Black Widow has struck again."
When Rollins swiped all the papers off his desk in a fit of rage, Gallagher fled, clearly used to his boss's anger. Smart move. Perhaps Timms was smart to drink heavily if Rollins was his boss. Landon and I just stood out of the way, let Rollins have his moment.
He put his hands on the edge of the desk, stared down at it. Then he spun about quickly for a man of his stature. "You will head to the bank to investigate." He didn't say it as a question.
"We'll start there, move on to the other three. We will get back to you with our report, or we'll wire you an update."
I put my hat back on as Landon nodded at Rollins and left the office. I followed, but didn't say anything until we were out on the main street. It was noisy with wagons and people, but calmer than Rollins' wrath. A stray dog ran past me, almost knocking me over.
"That was fun," I grumbled, still clutching the wanted paper. I looked at the drawing again. It wasn't remarkable and not enough of a likeness for us to find her using it as a guide. "Now what? Do we go to every hat shop in the territory?"
Landon snatched the paper from me. "A woman like this? She's smart. Smart enough to out think Rollins, although I doubt it's all that difficult."
He tipped his hat to two ladies that passed.
"She could be the Black Widow," I commented. "The one on the left has brown hair and is pleasing to the eye."
"It could be her, yes. It could be that woman over there." Landon pointed across the street to a woman selling fruit from a cart. "Or her." He pointed to a lady coming out of a restaurant. "Hell, it could be Maddie."
I rolled my eyes at the possibility. She was having lunch with a friend and would soon be back at the hotel, hopefully getting naked so we could fuck her. This was not going to be easy.
"We start at the bank, talk to the tellers. We don't change the way we track someone just because she's a woman." He adjusted his hat, then sat his hand on the butt of his gun which rested on his right hip. He sighed and I knew we were thinking the same thing. Because of the latest robbery, we couldn't return to Maddie right away. My cock ached to fuck her again, to see her smile, to hear her come. Now we had to hunt a woman who had more brawn than sense. Why would she need to rob a damn bank? No, why would she need to rob four of them?
"She might be a woman, but we need to be cautious. Remember, besides being a cunning bank robber, the Black Widow might even be a murderer."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Maddie
"Our lives as criminals are over," Amanda said, sitting down on the edge of my bed with a sigh. She and Tara had worked their way to my hotel after the robbery to disperse the remainder of the money and to say our goodbyes.
The robbery had gone just as the others had. I'd expected the teller to be prepared for me; Mr. Rollins had had his banks robbed before and obviously they knew to watch out for a woman thief. I'd expected, when I'd pulled out my gun, for the teller to raise one of his own and shoot me. But when I gave the man the piece of paper with the amount I wanted, he didn't raise an alarm, but instead grinned at me.
Grinned! Yes, he'd expected me, but hadn't wished to do me any harm. Instead, he'd said he felt honored to be robbed by the Black Widow, but wondered why I only wanted a certain amount. I responded that I was an honorable thief, only taking what was owed me. He looked at me oddly, but said nothing more, taking the money from the drawer and counted it out with a flourish. After I'd tucked it into my reticule, he nodded and wished me a good day.
I had to admit, I'd been flummoxed. Either the man hated Mr. Rollins and was thrilled to see him robbed, or he had a sweet spot for me. I had to assume it was the latter. I had an admirer!
I'd walked away from the building, my heart hammering, confused about what had occurred. This clerk wasn't going to forget my face. The plan had been the same as the other robberies; all three of us would leave town separately. Since we were now done with our nefarious activities and we'd met to dole out the last of the money, we wouldn't see each other for several months to ensure there was no connection between us.