by Nerys Leigh
~ ~ ~
Following an early lunch, they headed back up to the mine. They hired the buggy to get there since, this time, there was no need for stealth.
“How are we going to handle this?” Phoebe asked as they drove.
“We’re going to confront Brewer head on.”
“You think that will work? We don’t have any real proof.”
“That’s why we’re confronting him. It’s clear he’s nervous. If we tell him that we know he’s responsible for Baker’s disappearance, it’s likely to push him over the edge and make him confess. Or do something to incriminate himself. Either way, we’ve got him.”
She moved her hand to the concealed pocket in her dress where the weight of her gun pressed against her thigh. Despite trusting Jonah to know what he was doing, the prospect of a confrontation scared her a little. But she was determined to see it through. This was going to be her job, after all.
After half a minute of silence, he glanced at her. “I wish you’d stayed in town, like I asked.”
They’d had this argument already, over lunch, but she was ready to revisit it if he was.
“I told you, I’m coming. How am I going to learn if I miss the best parts?” She tried to imbue her voice with a confidence she only half felt.
Pressing his lips together, he looked ahead again. “I don’t like it. If Brewer decides to try to fight his way out…”
“I’m ready for that.” She patted the gun. “I told you, I’m an excellent shot.”
He looked at her sideways. “That has yet to be proven.”
“It’s true, so I don’t need to prove it to you. You believing it has no bearing on anything.”
She didn’t miss the twitch of his lips as he looked away.
She knew he enjoyed their bickering as much as she did, but she couldn’t help wondering if he’d miss it as much as she would after they parted.
Not that she would miss him at all.
She wasn’t thinking that.
~ ~ ~
Upon reaching the mine, Jonah brought the buggy to a halt outside Mr. Brewer’s office.
It took all his willpower to not turn around and drive right back down to Black Hawk.
He should never have let Phoebe come with him. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself. He’d been through that once before; he didn’t want to go through it again. Especially not with Phoebe.
Sighing, he set the brake and jumped to the ground. Guilty as Mr. Brewer may have been, Jonah didn’t get the impression he was prone to physical violence. The mine’s manager was slight and barely came up to Jonah’s chin. He wasn’t even wiry.
But then where was Ralph Baker?
Shaking his head, he joined Phoebe in walking to the office. It would be fine. He’d just get this over and done with and everything would be fine.
“Are you all right?” she whispered to him as they approached the door.
No. “Yes. Just remember, if anything goes wrong, get behind me.” He glanced down at her. “And if you do start shooting, please try not to shoot me.”
The hint of a smile touched her lips. “I promise not to shoot you. Not by accident, anyway.”
Torn between wanting to grin and take her far away, he opened the door and walked inside.
As with the first time they were there, a man sat outside Brewer’s office, but this time it was the man who’d sent them the note implicating Brewer, who Jonah had confronted the day before.
He leaped to his feet as they walked in, fear crossing his face as he glanced at the door to Brewer’s office.
“We’re here to see Mr. Brewer,” Jonah said, not giving any indication he knew him.
“Uh… do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
“I’ll check if he can see you.” Looking like he’d rather do anything but, he turned to the door.
The moment he opened it, Jonah pushed past him. “It wasn’t a request.”
“Hey!”
Jonah ignored his protest, only pausing to make sure he didn’t interfere with Phoebe as she too pushed past him.
Edmund Brewer looked up from his desk, frowning at the sight of Jonah and Phoebe bursting in. “Mr. and Mrs. Hays, what are you doing?”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the man said. “They didn’t…”
Brewer waved a hand to silence him. “I don’t appreciate being interrupted, Mr. Hays.”
Jonah stalked up to his desk. “I don’t appreciate being lied to.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Did you have Ralph Baker killed?”
Brewer jerked back as if he’d been slapped. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“We know he found something in his audit of the mine. Are you embezzling gold? Is that it?”
“I don’t…”
“Of course, you wouldn’t kill him yourself. Did you get your men to do it?” He spun to face the man. “Maybe you?”
His eyes flicked to Brewer, his bobbing Adam’s apple betraying him. Perhaps he’d sent them the message to assuage a guilty conscience.
Jonah turned back to Brewer. “What did you do with the body? Do you even know where they buried him? Or maybe they just left him somewhere in the mountains for the coyotes and the wolves.”
Brewer scowled at him. “I don’t know where Baker is.”
“So you just told them to get rid of the body but didn’t tell them where to put it?”
“I didn’t…”
“Or are you simply lying, like you’ve been doing all along?”
For a moment, Brewer ground his teeth. Then he sat back. “Fletcher, would you escort Mr. and Mrs. Hays out?”
Jonah had hoped that, knowing his hand was tipped, Brewer would simply crumble. Sadly, he was tougher than he looked.
Fletcher stepped forward, reaching for the gun holstered at his hip.
Before either he or Jonah could react, Phoebe’s revolver was out of her pocket, cocked and aimed at Fletcher.
Jonah blinked. He hadn’t even seen her move. How fast would she be if she had an actual holster?
Fletcher froze, his eyes darting from the gun to Phoebe to Brewer.
“There’s no need for weapons, Mrs. Hays,” Brewer said, the strain in his voice giving him away despite his seemingly calm demeanor.
“Tell your man that,” she replied, her eyes not leaving Fletcher.
Brewer shook his head at him and Fletcher slowly moved his hand back from his holstered pistol.
Phoebe lowered her revolver, although she didn’t return it to her pocket.
An unexpected burst of pride warmed Jonah’s chest, and not a small amount of attraction. His wife was quite a woman.
“We’re done here, Mr. Hays,” Brewer stated. “Please leave. And don’t come back.”
Jonah considered continuing to question him but decided against it. Brewer clearly wasn’t about to tell them anything, not in his own office, his domain. Maybe Marshal Sanderson would have more luck.
He nodded to Phoebe. “Let’s go.”
Neither of them spoke until they were back in the buggy.
“Why didn’t you keep questioning him?” Phoebe asked. “And why didn’t you let him answer? He may have given himself away. I read that the more a person lies, the more likely they are to slip up and get something wrong.”
Jonah released the brake and set the horse into motion, guiding the buggy around to take the road back to Black Hawk. “He wasn’t going to tell us anything, I could see that. I didn’t give him a chance to answer to unsettle him, see what his reaction would be.”
“And?”
“He’s guilty, no doubt about that. When accused of something they haven’t done, most people’s immediate reaction is shock. No one likes being wrongly accused, especially by someone on the side of the law. It scares them.”
“Mr. Brewer didn’t react with shock when you accused him,” she said. “He was angry.”
“Guilty men get angry. It’s defe
nsive. An innocent man is surprised, a guilty man is angry that they’ve been found out.”
“That’s very clever.” She frowned. “But when you accused Mr. Fletcher, he was afraid.”
“That’s because he’s not in charge, he’s just following orders. He was also probably scared we were going to reveal he’d tipped us off.”
She nodded slowly. “So what do we do now?”
“Go to the marshal, see if he can get a warrant to search Brewer’s office and the mine for evidence, take Brewer and his men in for questioning. He can do more than we can right now.”
She was quiet for a while, staring at the road ahead of them. “I was really hoping we would find Mr. Baker alive. For his mother’s sake.”
He considered putting his arm around her shoulders to comfort her, but he didn’t. She seemed pretty handy with that gun.
“Sometimes this is a hard job,” he said. “We don’t always get the outcome we want. I wish it wasn’t the case, but you’ve got to be prepared for that.”
Sighing, she looked at her lap. “I know.”
Before he could talk himself out of it, he reached over to take her hand and gave it a brief squeeze before releasing it.
She looked up at him in surprise, but she didn’t seem to object to the gesture. The small smile she gave him might even have indicated she liked it.
Maybe
He wasn’t sure.
He wasn’t sure about anything when it came to Phoebe. She was thoroughly unpredictable. Although, strangely, he liked that about her. In fact, there was a lot to like about Phoebe. She was funny and beautiful and smart and interesting, and an impressively fast draw. Any man would be lucky to have her as his wife.
Not that he was falling for her. He wasn’t saying that.
He also wasn’t saying that he wanted to stay married to her.
Because he didn’t.
At all.
Swallowing, he returned his attention to the road ahead.
He frowned when movement caught his eye.
A little way ahead of them a shallow gully branched off the main valley that the road wound through. He remembered it from their journey up. It rose to a plateau that ran alongside the road for a time.
He was sure he’d seen something at the mouth of the gully, although there was nothing there now. Probably just an animal.
He slowed the buggy.
“What is it?” Phoebe asked.
“I’m not sure. Probably nothing.”
She followed his gaze to the gully. “Did you see something?”
“I…”
A sound interrupted him. Both of them twisted to look back.
Three riders descended the steep slope that rose from the road, their horses’ hooves sliding in the loose dirt. Each of them held a rifle.
Jonah turned back to the road ahead, ready to push their horse into a gallop, even though he knew they couldn’t outrun the mounted men.
Ahead of them, three more men emerged from the gully and raised their rifles toward the buggy.
“They’re Brewer’s men,” Phoebe whispered.
“I know.”
He looked around, searching for an escape. To their left, the ground rose too sharply for the buggy. To their right, it dropped too steeply.
They were trapped.
He brought the buggy to a halt as the two groups of men converged on them.
A blond man rode a little ahead of the others. A scar furrowed his left cheek, from mouth to ear. Jonah recalled Mr. Bowen’s description of the men who had taken Ralph Baker’s notes and the mine’s ledgers.
The man gestured with his rifle. “Get your hands up.”
Phoebe touched Jonah’s arm. “What do we do?”
With no other option, and every fiber of his being screaming at him not to, he raised his hands.
“We surrender.”
Chapter Ten
“I’ll be wanting that back,” Phoebe snapped as the scarred man pulled the revolver from her pocket.
Brewer’s thug shoved the gun into his belt without answering.
Jonah’s hands were bound in front of him. So far neither of them had been hurt, but he knew that couldn’t last.
They’d sent the horse pulling the buggy down the road towards Black Hawk with a sharp slap to its hindquarters. Someone would find it, assume something had happened to them. There’d be a search, probably in the wrong place.
Just like with Ralph Baker.
Jonah had to get them out of this. He would not let Phoebe die.
He struggled with his bonds as they tied her hands, warning them of what he’d do to them if they hurt her, until they shoved a bandanna across his mouth and tied it behind his head.
Her frightened eyes found his as they did the same to her. She looked more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her.
He wanted to rip each and every one of their heads off.
One of the men stepped in front of her, wagging his finger in her face. “Don’t get…”
She drove her knee into his crotch.
A string of curses filled the air as he staggered backwards and dropped to his knees, to howls of laughter from the other men.
Jonah would have applauded, if he’d had the use of his hands. That was his Phoebe; woe betide anyone who angered her.
She glanced at him and he smiled behind the bandanna, hoping she could see it in his eyes. Even though she still looked afraid, she smiled back. She would be ready when he made his move, he had no doubt.
He just wished he knew what that move would be.
It took the injured man half a minute before he managed to push to his feet. Keeping his distance, he jabbed a finger at Phoebe. “You little…”
“Knock it off, Duncan,” the scarred man, who seemed to be the leader of their little band, said. “It was your own fault for getting too close.”
“But Gilson…”
“I said, knock it off.”
Casting Phoebe a scowl, Duncan grumbled something under his breath and limped away.
They’d brought a spare horse and they put Jonah on it. There was some debate as to what to do with Phoebe. After the incident with Duncan, none of them seemed to want to go near her. Eventually, they put her on the horse behind Jonah, evidently assuming she could do less damage there.
She leaned her head against his back.
He twisted his neck round as far as he could to see her. “We’ll be all right,” he whispered.
She nodded, even though she didn’t appear convinced.
He couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t convinced of it himself.
Their captors took the two of them back to the mine, but instead of going through the main entrance they detoured to a small, isolated hut some way from the busy main cluster of buildings.
Jonah looked around as they were marched inside. Unlike the rest of the structures at the mine, this one was built of brick, with thick walls but a flimsy wooden roof. He recognized the style of construction. It was for storing explosives. If there had been an accident, any blast would have been directed upwards, minimizing injuries and damage to whatever was around it at the time. Now, however, it was empty, save for shelving fixed to the walls, a large wooden casket in one corner, and two chairs in the center of the room.
He and Phoebe were tied to the chairs, their gags left in place. Clearly Brewer didn’t want any of the mine workers to know what was going on.
Jonah cursed himself for going back there. He shouldn’t have brought her with him. He should have told Marshal Sanderson where they were going. Three years since he’d almost got a new agent killed, and he was still making mistakes.
The group of men left, leaving one to guard Jonah and Phoebe. A few minutes later, Jonah heard voices outside.
“Just take them somewhere else, not where you killed Baker.” That was Brewer. “Make sure you bury the bodies deep. I don’t want a wild animal digging them up and someone finding them.”
There was a pause.
“What is th
at look?” Brewer said. “You did bury Baker, didn’t you?” There was no answer. “Fletcher?”
“Yes, sir. Buried him good and deep. That’s why it took us so long.”
Jonah’s heart sank. He’d harbored a small spark of hope that Fletcher would help them, but that spark died with the revelation that he’d either killed Baker or been there when it happened.
“Good. Take Jones with you again.”
“Yes, sir.”
Footsteps walked away and the door opened. Fletcher walked in. He was carrying a bottle and a piece of cloth.
As Jonah and Phoebe watched, he dripped a few drops of liquid from the bottle onto the cloth.
Jonah shook his head furiously, making as much noise as he could through the bandanna over his mouth. Not that he held out much hope anyone would hear him, even if he could shout. Not over the cacophony of the mine and the stamp mill.
But he tried anyway. It was all he could do.
“Help me with him,” Fletcher said to the man guarding them.
While the guard took hold of Jonah’s head, Fletcher walked around behind him and pulled the bandanna from his mouth. Before he could shout, the cloth replaced it, clamped over his nose and mouth.
Jonah tried to shake them off, but their grips were like iron.
He held his breath until he couldn’t hold it any longer.
A sweet-smelling odor accompanied his gasps for air.
The last thing he saw before blackness overtook him was Phoebe’s frightened eyes staring at him, glistening with tears.
Chapter Eleven
The ground was moving. At least, Phoebe thought it was the ground. It took her a few seconds to work out which way was up.
Her brain finally shook off enough of the fog enshrouding it to be able to process the sensations coming from her body. She appeared to be lying on her right side. Probably. Her head was spinning. As she clawed her way towards full consciousness, she discovered it was pounding too. She could have done without knowing that.
Her eyelids finally obeyed her, albeit slowly, and she opened her eyes.
The first thing she saw was Jonah’s face. He lay facing her, his eyes closed.