All the little bits added up to him becoming someone she might well have walked right by on the street without recognizing. She had no doubt he could walk right by the folks they’d met last night in that restaurant.
And then he left to gather whatever information he needed. Now it was her turn to help. She opened the record book John had taken from the murder victim and several other papers John had given her and went to work. She’d definitely gotten the boring end of this investigation.
But boring didn’t mean unimportant. She settled in to study, grimly determined to prove she could help.
John meandered around the shabby neighborhood near his boardinghouse. He found diners and saloons filled with gossip. He also found quiet men, idlers with piercing eyes. Informants . . . whether to one man or many he couldn’t say, but he was mindful of his own acting skills showing disinterest, an idler himself.
Of the five names he’d found in that record book, he’d heard mention of four. He also picked up information about the night watch and where they were most vigilant.
And he’d learned that at least one of the five men was feared.
Feared to the point that his name had been spoken in whispers. Torn, John tried to decide if he should just get busy finding out where this man lived and go straight there, before the merciless killer stabbed anyone else to death, or if he should be more thorough. Just because they were unusually afraid of the one man didn’t mean they weren’t all hard men. In fact, he got the impression they were, and he suspected no one made it big in a boomtown without being hard.
He waddled along, staring down, all part of the demeanor he’d taken on, until he reached an area of town that bisected the richer and poorer parts. Here he found a diner just filling up with men hunting a noon meal.
Sitting down at a long table, next to a man dressed in a similar fashion to him, John ate and listened and found the last man.
Lake Tahoe? One of the men had a mansion out there? Mr. Payne, co-owner of one of the biggest mines. Luther Payne. That jiggled something in John’s mind, but he wasn’t sure what. He set it aside to keep listening and gathering info.
No one mentioned Payne much, and his name was one of dozens he heard, mostly not connected to John’s work, though he paid attention to every word.
When John returned to wandering the boardwalk, his thoughts were haunted by that poor murdered man. John didn’t think he’d ever done anything, outside of wartime maybe, to get an innocent man killed.
And then he walked by a mining office. With a few names painted discreetly on the window of the front door. One of them Payne. Luther Payne.
And he thought of something else he’d found in the haberdasher’s desk and it clicked. He turned and headed for home. Penny had some information John needed badly.
Penny could find no notes about any other buyer for the boots John had noticed, though she went through everything carefully.
She also couldn’t resist being curious about all John’s luggage and went through it, just plain snooping. It must all be disguises. Some of the wisps of hair and other strange objects were a mystery. She was careful to return everything just as it had been. Not that she didn’t want John to know she was going through his things. She planned to ask him about it and admit what she’d done. She was bored, after all. But she didn’t want to mess up what were very carefully packed cases.
Once done with that, she debated whether it was important to keep watch. Would it be better to post a watch in the night? Now she was alone and maybe more vulnerable. Later John, who might be out kicking up suspicions, would be here. If someone followed him back they’d need a sentry through the night. Finally, after several painfully dull hours, she was falling asleep anyway, so she decided not to fight it. She’d rest now so John could sleep later.
Besides, that solved the very uncomfortable question of sharing that bed again. In the breaking dawn, they’d both been so tired it hadn’t mattered. Tonight might be different. And, she admitted, John’s strong arms around her felt better than Penny had realized anything could.
She found her husband’s strength and warmth appealing. But that wasn’t love. And until she could say she did at least plan to stay with him and commit to a true marriage, there could be nothing more intimate between them. It would be a travesty of what God wanted after wedding vows.
As she lay down to sleep, she regretted that those strong arms were the last things she thought of before she slept because they followed her into some very restless dreams.
CHAPTER
21
“I’ll head back before first light, Mr. Payne. I found them, counted how many were there. One man, one woman, two little ones.”
“The rest of them went back to Riley’s house? Riley with his wife and the hired men, too?”
“Yep. And the man—that’d be Cameron Scott, I checked in the land office, and that’s his homestead right beside his sister’s. She’s the woman we had in our hands, who brought Raddo in with Riley and another man we haven’t identified yet.”
“Jonathan Call. I saw him in Virginia City last night. Along with a woman he introduced as his wife, Penelope Call. It’s the same pair.” And they were hunting him. Luth had moved fast to close down their line of investigation. And he’d tossed his favorite boots aside until this was settled.
“Scott is out and about working. I saw his wife when Scott opened the door, but otherwise she stayed to the house. He’s built a cabin, and I can see the start of a second one. His sister, Penny Scott, got a homestead and so did his wife—Gwen Harkness was her name before they got married. Saw that at the land office, too.”
“The woman who Raddo hunted was Deb Harkness. Sisters probably.” Luth could use that if he needed to. He paused in his thinking for just a few seconds as he remembered Raddo coming, wounded, to this very house and blackmailing him. Luther had given him enough to live on for life, but Luth had told his old partner in crime, who was his little brother besides, to get out of the country. Raddo had agreed, then ignored that agreement to go after Deb and Trace Riley.
Deb had witnessed Raddo massacring a wagon train. Something Luth and Raddo had done together, with a gang, years before. Then Luth had gone straight. Gotten in at the beginning of the Comstock Lode silver boom.
Luth suppressed a smile. He hadn’t exactly gone straight. He’d just gotten smart and real sneaky. A few men had died in accidents when they were in his way, or when they owned a share of a mine he wanted.
There’d been talk because Luth had gotten too rich too fast and the deaths had been too convenient. But there’d been no evidence, and he’d made sure folks feared him, which kept the talk down.
Now he could see why asking Raddo to let witnesses live was foolish, because Luth didn’t consider doing it for a second. Luth and Raddo were cut from the same cloth.
His hired gun went on. “Scott put his cabin up right on the property line so they got away with only building one, but the sister’s cabin—”
“Can the three of you handle them?” Luth knew enough about Trace Riley, and he’d heard things about his hired man Utah. He knew if he killed the Scott family, which included Trace’s sister-in-law, Luth would have to face Riley.
It didn’t matter. He had to do it anyway. Scott was a tough man. He’d as soon not have them all to deal with at the same time.
“Won’t be a problem.”
“I’ll need you to bring the children back here.”
His guard’s eyes snapped wide. “Bring them? Won’t they be crying and carryin’ on?”
“Having them here is part of dealing with the Chiltons. I need those children to—”
A sharp rap on the door startled Luth. He didn’t like anyone in his office, and one of only two people might be so bold as to interrupt him. Both of them uninvited guests.
“Come in.” He fought down the urge to pull the gun out of his desk drawer and finish with Florence Chilton right now.
But he also really liked the rug in here and
would regret bloodstains.
He and his hired man exchanged a quick look.
Luth said, “The three of you handle it. I can come along if—”
Florence smiled that brittle, arrogant smile at him. The one that said she thought she was better than him. “Have you had time to get our things from Bolling’s Boardinghouse?”
“My men are occupied with important business this morning, but perhaps this afternoon.” Luth sure hoped it was that simple.
Florence sighed dramatically, like she was being put upon. Luth looked at his beautiful rug and controlled himself. Besides, he’d need her to wrangle the children until their usefulness was at an end.
“This afternoon will have to do. I appreciate the help, though Edmond could go.”
Florence didn’t realize it, but she’d been seen for the last time by anyone outside this house. Edmond, too.
“My men will handle it,” he snapped, wanting her to get out.
Florence lifted her chin and looked down her nose at him.
Luth hadn’t meant to sound quite so sharp. He’d done a poor job of covering his irritation at her interruption.
“Well, thank you. That’s fine. I’ll go now.” Florence smiled with rather phony politeness and backed out of the room.
When the door shut, his hired gun said, “We can—”
Luth swiped one hand at the man. Silence dropped like a shroud over the room. Luth didn’t trust that woman one bit. He doubted she was above eavesdropping.
“Handle it. And get it done today.”
With a short nod, his man left the room. Luth had an internal wrestling match with his temper. He needed to be sure Florence hadn’t been alarmed. He didn’t want her running off.
Time to be a genial host. He rose from the chair, and it slammed back against the shelf behind him.
Then he waited. He needed another minute so he could come up with a smile that didn’t look like he was baring his teeth.
CHAPTER
22
“I found him.”
Penny stood from the dirt floor and barely stopped a scream when a strange man burst into the cabin. A fat, slovenly old man who moved and sounded . . . exactly like her husband.
Slapping a hand on her chest, she said, “Good night! John! I didn’t recognize you.”
He grinned. “Glad you didn’t shoot me. You’d have some explaining to do when some judge accused you of finding a fast way to divorce me.”
She’d been sitting in a corner for the last few hours . . . ever since she woke up. The whole day dedicated to rest and silence. It didn’t suit her.
Then she realized what he’d said. “You found who?”
“Whisper Man. The man who kidnapped us. His name’s Luther Payne.”
“Are you sure?” Penny rose to her feet, excited and impressed.
“I believe so, and that means it’s almost for sure Payne killed that shopkeeper last night. And if that’s right, then I’ve seen his face and know his name. I found out he’s co-owner of a mine. And I found out he’s a feared man. I decided it was him from the way the men didn’t talk about him.”
Narrowing her eyes at the strange statement, Penny said, “That doesn’t make sense.”
John smiled. He was almost buzzing with excitement and energy—completely at odds with the disguise. Then he set aside a gunnysack he carried and started shedding his old man costume, one garment at a time. The way he moved fast and sure, as if he couldn’t contain his thoughts and remain still, reminded her of the way he liked to pace when he did his thinking. She’d never had much use for a slothful character, and John showed plenty of signs that he was an energetic man.
“Did you find any other names in that record book?”
“No, just the five you found before you left this morning.”
“I heard all five men talked about. These five are all rich, powerful men. Not all with the mines. One’s a banker. One’s a lawyer. One handles timber and shipping. Another is a railroad man. And one, Luther Payne, owns a mine. Rich men get their names mentioned, and it wasn’t long before a few names from my list popped up. There was good-natured complaining, and a few complaints not so good-natured. Payne only came up a few times and then with a kind of fearful neutrality as if no one wanted to get caught mentioning him. I think Payne’s the kind of man who has eyes and ears everywhere.”
“Eyes and ears?” Penny asked.
“Informants. I’ll bet word is out that he’ll pay for information, and particularly when it is information about himself. He’s probably got a reputation for retaliating against men who blacken his name. And that retaliation must be so harsh no one risks speaking ill. I got a strong impression of that.”
While he talked, John finished turning back into himself, carefully repacking every piece of his disguise. Then he picked up the gunnysack he’d carried in, loosened a string tie at the top of the bag, and pulled out a plate wrapped in a red-checkered cloth. He unwrapped it and handed it to Penny. A meatloaf dinner complete with potatoes and a big hunk of bread. He even had a knife and fork. Then he reached back in and pulled out a similar meal for himself.
“I promised to return the plates. She made me leave a dollar for each set, and if I bring her all the plates, napkins and utensils, she’ll give me my two dollars back.”
Penny hadn’t realized how hungry she was. She snatched the plate from John, plunked herself back on the floor, and picked up the fork.
“Keep talking.”
John sat on the floor beside her, eating his own meal like a starving man.
He finally must’ve taken the edge off his hunger because he swallowed a bite and said, “Do you have that paper with you that Cam copied off Raddo’s arm?”
“The tattoo?”
“Yep, I think I remember what it said, but it didn’t make much sense, and I’m not sure if I have the right words in the right order. It might matter.”
Penny took her last few bites. She’d eaten that meal like a hungry wolf and felt a pang of embarrassment about it. She set her plate aside and went to her trusty bag.
Rummaging deep, she finally produced the small strip of paper. Staring at it, she said, “Luth. The word Luth is on here.”
With satisfaction, John said, “I thought so. I was sure I remembered the word Luth. Luther Payne.”
He set his plate aside, done eating, and stood. “Read it to me.”
“Cam copied it off as best he could. Remember how faded it was? And the words made no sense, so it was hard to know if he got it down right. One of the reasons we copied it was because it was so odd we weren’t certain of remembering it right.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Penny cleared her throat as she looked at the mysterious line of words. “‘Luth if I die Revenge Watchbook Tahoe Jewel Overlook.’ Most of them are right, but some were so faded, I’m not sure.” Her brow furrowed. “What can it mean?”
Chewing, looking thoughtful, John said, “Luth is there. ‘If I die Revenge.’ That part makes me even more certain I’m on the right path. I’ve got our suspect, but I need proof I can take to the sheriff. From the questions Payne asked when he kidnapped us, we know he is worried. He wanted to know if Raddo had told us anything. That was the whole point of snatching us.”
“The tattoo would be a good way to leave behind blackmail material.” Penny stuffed her plate back in the gunnysack. It didn’t sit right to not wash them up, but they had only a bit of water in their canteens, and she wasn’t wasting it. “All he had to do was keep his arms covered, and he had a threat to hold over Payne that couldn’t be stolen, forgotten, or bribed out of a greedy lawyer.”
John nodded. “A man as mistrustful as Raddo might well have tattooed his proof right onto his skin.”
Penny looked at the line of words again. “‘Watchbook Tahoe Jewel Overlook.’ Good grief, what could that be?”
John shook his head, but he had a smile on his face. “I don’t know.”
“Then why are you smiling?”
>
“Because it’s a clue. It’s another thread to pull as we unravel this mystery. If they knew each other from long ago—and that tattoo looked old—then Raddo’s got reason to hold a grudge because somehow Luther got rich and Raddo got left with nothing.”
“So, we don’t know what ‘watchbook’ means, but ‘Luth’ and ‘if I die Revenge’ are easy enough. ‘Tahoe Jewel Overlook . . .’”
She looked up and their eyes met. She could see his mind working and found she liked the expression. He was really good at this.
Penny, who had mostly been around soldiers and frontiersmen, found admiration for a city man with a crafty mind.
Admiration and attraction.
To distract herself from that, she asked, “Could that be a place? Maybe Raddo hid some evidence about Payne?” Penny looked up from the note. “I know it’ll be a challenge to your conscience, but it looks like you’re going to have to do some more snooping.”
“Do you think overlook is right? Did Cam copy it down right? I mean, overlook could be two words: over and look. It changes the meaning of the phrase.”
“The phrase had no meaning, so it changes it from nothing to nothing.”
“Good point.” John paced and talked and rubbed his chin.
“To the best of our ability, this is what we decided the words said.”
The small hut was silent for a few minutes as they mulled . . . silent except for the sound of feet treading back and forth.
Penny asked, “Could it be some spot by Tahoe that’s known, an especially pretty view?”
“Possibly. I can ask about it. I’ll need to be careful though.” John stopped and focused on her intently. “Anything you think of make sure and say out loud, even if it seems silly or outlandish. I’ll say what pops into my head. Either a new idea or some idea spurred by what you say. We bounce ideas back and forth like a rubber ball until we have a few different possible things to check. I do that some with the detectives I work with, and it’s surprising the ideas we come up with that way.”
The Unexpected Champion Page 16