XIII.
Enoch hung well back from the platform as the train pulled in.
A few purchases at the general store and a visit to the barber had left him with what he hoped to be a passable disguise. He’d changed out of his rougher clothes and into a neat suit and shiny black shoes, free of any trail dust. A few swipes of the barber’s razor above his forehead created the illusion of a receding hairline. With the addition of a Gladstone bag, in which he’d hidden his other clothes, he looked the very image of a salesman. A heavy dousing of cologne would hopefully confuse the dog familiar, should she catch his scent.
Rafael perched on his shoulder in hawk form, the suit saved from his talons by a leather cape. If anyone asked, Enoch was a witch traveling west with a bag full of sample hexes to sell to firms in California. Enoch doubted they would bother; he’d taken pains to make himself appear as dull as possible.
Rafael was the only flaw in that; he was a beautiful hawk, and naturally would attract some attention. But with any luck, eyes would be drawn to him, and away from Enoch. It helped that the gang had only seen Enoch from a distance; with the change of clothes and hair, and the distraction of Rafael, they would hopefully overlook him should they glance in his direction.
Once the crowd was at its largest, with passengers getting off and on alike, Enoch approached the train and handed the conductor their tickets.
The conductor glanced at Rafael. “Do you have a hood and jesses for your familiar?” he asked.
Rafael’s talons dug in. Anger flashed through Enoch like a wildfire, and he only kept from snarling by dint of reminding himself they couldn’t afford to attract any attention. “Not necessary,” he said in clipped tones.
Something of his fury must have escaped, because the conductor said, “It’s just that it reassures the other passengers. Being in such close quarters and all. I’ll let you on, but keep him on your shoulder.”
“I will,” Enoch said, the words bitter on his tongue. “Thank you, sir.”
“What an asshole,” he thought in Rafael’s direction while the conductor punched the tickets.
“You’ll get no argument from me.”
Enoch headed into the second class car. He’d hoped the gang would either wait to board until last, or be too busy settling to so much as glance his way, but this time luck wasn’t with him. Four of the gang members sat right at the front of the car: Jackson, a hulking man known for his strength and cruelty; the witch Garcia; her dog familiar; and Mason Bone himself.
Which left one missing. Their hexwoman, Lyne. Had she gone to another car for some reason?
Enoch kept his face neutral, watching the four gang members out of the corner of his eye as he shuffled past. Three paid him no mind, but Bone’s eyes went to Rafael.
Then they were past. Enoch settled into one of the seats closer to the back of the car, unfolded a newspaper he’d purchased at the depot, and pretended to read. Rafael hunched low on his shoulder, as though reading it along with him.
“I don’t think they recognized you,” Rafael said through the partial bond. His talons tightened on the leather cape. “What next?”
“We’ll wait for the train to get underway, then take a look at the baggage car. No one on board will have the keys to the safe—those will be in the hands of the bank agent in Resurrection Ridge—so they must have some way of getting inside.”
“Dynamite?”
“Maybe, though that wouldn’t be safe, unless they mean to uncouple the car. Which they might.” Enoch considered. “If there’s any way to conceal ourselves, or at least you, near the baggage car, we’ll do that and ambush them when they’re at their most distracted.”
Rafael shifted from one foot to the other. The dusty scent of his feathers filled Enoch’s nose, and he felt an unexpected rush of affection toward the hawk familiar.
Maybe Rafael would agree to testify against the Bone Gang. Enoch might be able to convince the prosecutor to drop the charges against Rafael in exchange, if he promised to find more honest work. Perhaps this didn’t have to be the end, after all.
“Lot of holes in this plan, brujo,” Rafael said at last. “But I don’t have a better one.”
Enoch kept an eye on the four outlaws, while he pretended to read the paper. None of them betrayed the slightest nervousness, nor any interest in their fellow passengers. Garcia and Bone chatted, though of course Enoch couldn’t hear what they said, while Jackson stared out the window, watching the landscape slip past as the train built up to speed. Smoke from the engine streamed past, carrying with it soot and sparks. Unlike the first class car, the second class windows weren’t hexed against the smoke, and the woman seated in front of Enoch muttered angrily and tugged her hat closer to protect her face from any soot.
Once Bitterwood was an hour or so behind them, Enoch stood up. The conductor had vanished into the first class compartment, and no one gave him so much as a glance when he let himself out the back of the second class compartment.
The door to the baggage car would surely be locked. He put his hand to it anyway…and it opened at his touch.
Enoch swore and drew his pistol. Had some careless employee left the door unlocked and the alarm hex unset? Or was this part of the gang’s plan?
He stepped cautiously into the car. High, narrow windows let in enough light to see by. The passengers’ baggage was stored to either side—along with a very large iron safe, several mailbags, and a crate addressed to Dr. Wallington’s Hex Emporium.
The hexes alone might be worth stealing, not to mention the payroll in the safe. So far, it all seemed untouched, but the unlocked door worried Enoch. At least one of the railroad employees had to be working with the gang.
Enoch stepped further into the car, searching for any signs of disturbance. As he did so, he heard a step behind him.
He spun, pistol raised, and found none other than Mason Bone in the doorway. Bone held a gun of his own, leveled at Enoch.
“Put down your weapon,” Enoch ordered. “Deputy US Federal Marshal Enoch Bright, Magical Law Enforcement Division.”
“Well, well. A Hexas Ranger.” Bone grinned, but he bent down slowly and laid his weapon on the car’s floor as ordered. “You’re keeping strange company these days, Rafael.”
Enoch stiffened, felt Rafael’s talons clamp down on his shoulder through the leather. “What?”
“Oh, he didn’t tell you, lawman?” Bone’s eyes widened with false surprise. “Rafael helped me start the gang in the first place.”