Honoring Her Heart

by Amelia C. Adams

  “I am indeed. I have a competitor or two, but they don’t have nearly as many properties available to show you. Have a seat and let’s discuss your needs.”

  Christopher took a seat at the desk, and Mr. Thurgood sat across from him. “I was sent this list of undeveloped property in the area when I inquired of the town a few months back.” Christopher reached in his pocket, withdrew a folded sheet of paper, and handed it over to Mr. Thurgood. “I was told that some of this land has been purchased, and some has not. I’m not sure which is which, though, and the sender of the letter didn’t seem inclined to want to tell me.”

  Mr. Thurgood laughed. “Clerks aren’t paid enough for all the tasks they’re called on to perform. I’m sorry they weren’t more helpful, but this does give us a place to start.” He unfolded the sheet, and his brow furrowed. That expression quickly gave way to neutrality, however, as if he was eager to remain positive. “Yes, I do manage several of the properties on this list. Which ones were you most interested in?” He laid the sheet on the desk.

  Christopher leaned forward and tapped one. “I’d like to see this place adjoining the Circle C ranch.”

  “That’s a beautiful area to be sure, but I wouldn’t recommend it unless you’re a rancher yourself.” Mr. Thurgood paused. “Are you a rancher?”

  “No. Not at all. I’m actually looking for some investment land—when my father passed away, I inherited his savings, and I need to find something worthwhile to do with them.”

  Mr. Thurgood laughed. “Being worthwhile is certainly a good pursuit. Yes, I would definitely encourage you to look elsewhere. This land you’ve chosen won’t be agreeable to someone looking to build a regular home—it gets a bit chaotic when it’s time to move the animals and so forth.”

  “All right. What about this one?” Christopher jabbed an item a third of the way down the page.

  “I don’t think that one would suit your investment needs either,” Mr. Thurgood replied. “They’ve tried to dig a well out there a few times and haven’t struck water yet. I think you’d struggle to resell.”

  Interesting. Very interesting.

  Christopher sat back and studied Mr. Thurgood. He trusted his instincts—he’d been doing this for a long time, and he had developed the ability to know when someone was lying to him. He wanted to trust this Mr. Thurgood, but he needed to test out the waters a bit more first.

  “I’m curious, Mr. Thurgood, why you don’t want me to purchase any of the land you handle for Thomas Wells.”

  The cannonball he’d just launched had the effect he desired. Mr. Thurgood startled and leaned back, then pulled in a deep breath.

  “Are you one of Mr. Wells’ associates?” he asked.

  Christopher stroked his beard. It was, perhaps, melodramatic, but it always served to intimidate his opponent, and that’s what he needed now. “My purpose for being here is directly tied to Mr. Wells.”

  “And does that purpose involve fulfilling his contract? I certainly hope it does.”

  “Haven’t you enjoyed working with Mr. Wells?”

  Mr. Thurgood let out a chuckle that sounded strangled at the end. “Enjoyment hasn’t even crossed my mind, Mr. Hoffman. I’m not the sort of man who’s meant for these sorts of enterprises—I’ve been on pins and needles ever since the whole thing began. And not only that, but I thought this would be over in six months, and it’s stretched on far longer.”

  Christopher nodded slowly.

  Just then, another knock sounded on the door. Mr. Thurgood came to his feet. “I’ll send them away,” he said hoarsely.

  “No need. Let him in.”

  Mr. Thurgood gave him an odd look, but crossed the floor and opened the door. “Oh, Deputy Hawkins. What brings you by?”

  “I was asked to meet a friend here.”

  Christopher came to his feet and turned to face the door. “Thank you for coming, Deputy. I’m Christopher Hoffman. Nice to meet you in person finally.”

  “Likewise,” the deputy replied.

  Mr. Thurgood stepped back and allowed the deputy to enter. “I trust an explanation is forthcoming?”

  “Absolutely. Let’s all be seated and we can get down to business.” Christopher held out his hand, and the other men sat. It was unusual to invite a man to sit down in his own office, but the balance of power had clearly shifted, and it was obvious that Christopher was in charge.

  “Allow me to introduce myself—again,” he said, pulling his billfold from his pocket and handing it to Mr. Thurgood. “I’m a special investigator for the North West Mounted Police. We first became aware of Thomas Wells five years ago when he came to Calgary and tried to conduct some illegal real estate affairs in our area. We were able to stop the deals from going through, so there was no actual harm done, but in our investigations, we learned of other people who had fallen victim to his scam, and we wanted to get him put away before even more people could be added to that list. We’ve been tracing his movements, but it’s been difficult because he’s changed his name several times and even his appearance. Deputy Hawkins became involved in the case when we received word that Wells had crossed the border into the United States, but he didn’t arrive here in Creede until long after Mr. Wells left.”

  Mr. Thurgood passed a hand over his face. “You’re here investigating Thomas Wells? You want to arrest him?”

  “Yes, and anyone working with him.” Christopher looked at the man intently. “You wouldn’t be one of those, would you?”

  Mr. Thurgood shook his head. “Absolutely not. He came into my office and said he wanted to purchase some land. He indicated the parcel he wanted, I told him the price, and he agreed on it. He didn’t even try to negotiate for a better deal, which surprised me. Then he said he was working on someone else’s behalf, someone with an interest in this area.”

  Deputy Hawkins leaned forward, a keen look on his face. “Did he say who that was?”

  “No, he didn’t. He just said that he wanted to buy the properties left behind by a man named Archibald Grady. Is that name familiar to you?”

  Christopher glanced at Hawkins, who shook his head.

  “I’m rather surprised to hear that,” Mr. Thurgood said. “Grady was what you might consider the villain of Creede for a good long while. He had his fingers in twelve different pies, and you couldn’t take one step without running into one of his schemes. When he passed, there was quite a mess to clean up.”

  “And Mr. Wells was more than happy to resolve some of those messes?” Christopher asked.

  “That’s right. He wanted to purchase the land Grady had been holding in reserve, tucked away for a time when he’d need it. I suppose it was his way of investing for the future—making sure he had something of value in case his other pursuits didn’t pan out.”

  “Is the list I gave you a comprehensive list of all Grady’s former holdings?” Christopher asked.

  “No, that’s just a list of properties in the area that aren’t currently being developed.” Mr. Thurgood rose from his chair and walked over to a tall filing cabinet in the corner. After opening a drawer or two, he withdrew a folder, then returned to the desk with it.

  “Here’s the list of everything Grady left behind when he passed away. And here’s the list of all the properties Mr. Wells asked me to purchase on his behalf and hold for him.” He pointed to each sheet of paper to differentiate between the two.

  Christopher raised an eyebrow. “He asked you to hold these properties for him?”

  “That’s right. He gave me the money, I made the purchases, and now they’re just waiting for him.”

  “In his name?”

  Mr. Thurgood looked a little uncomfortable. “No, they’re in my name, but he provided the money. He said he’d come back in about six months and we’d settle everything. Well, he got into some other trouble in town and was run out, and I have no idea where he is right now—whether he’s in jail or just laying low somewhere.”

  “We’ve sent out numerous telegrams to law enforceme
nt agencies in all the surrounding areas, and none of them have him in custody,” Christopher replied. “I’m guessing that he’s laying low.”

  “That’s what I figured.” Mr. Thurgood shook his head. “I was hoping he was locked away somewhere, but with his wily ways, it seemed too good to be true.”

  “Can you tell us more about your dealings with him?” Christopher asked.

  “Certainly. He told me that he’d like to hire me to act as his agent. I was to go to the bank and inquire about those properties, and I would be paid a fee for doing so. At first, I didn’t see anything wrong with what he was proposing. I’ve acted as an agent in real estate negotiations before, and he said he had some traveling to do and would prefer not having to worry about business here while he was away.”

  “That seems reasonable,” Christopher said.

  “It did to me as well, so I agreed to do it. I headed over to the bank, found that the properties were still for sale, and asked for a total sum. Then I spoke with Mr. Wells again, and he simply reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope full of money. That startled me—I thought for sure he’d have to arrange for the payment to be delivered, but he had it right there in his breast pocket. He told me my portion was in there as well, and I was being generously thanked for purchasing the land in my own name. He said his employer wasn’t a resident of the United States yet and needed time to arrive here and establish himself before making a purchase like that of his own. He was coming by way of England or something like that.”

  “By way of England, but not actually an Englishman?” Christopher wanted to know.

  Mr. Thurgood was beginning to look worn out. Christopher felt sorry for the man, who hadn’t planned on being subjected to an interrogation that day.

  “That’s what Mr. Wells said,” Mr. Thurgood confirmed. “In my opinion, it could be anything, and it could also have been a lie. Perhaps there was no employer at all, and Wells was working on his own.”

  Any of those suggestions was plausible. Christopher needed more information before he could start forming theories. “How much was your bonus for handling those properties?”

  “Ten percent.”

  Deputy Hawkins gave a low whistle, and Christopher was rather impressed himself. “I don’t imagine you see that kind of profit often.”

  “Never,” Mr. Thurgood replied. “Wells has been my most generous client by far, but also the one who made me the most uncomfortable. I kept wondering if I’d gotten myself into something illegal. I asked Mr. Newell, a lawyer here in town, to look over my agreement with Wells to see if I could get out of it and also to make sure I wasn’t doing anything wrong. He said it all checked out legally, and that I was bound to it.”

  “But you mentioned something about six months,” Christopher pointed out. “Was the contract void at that point?”

  “I hoped so, but no. The wording was tricky, as legal wording often is, and I’m not off the hook yet.”

  “Well, I should let you know, Mr. Thurgood, that we haven’t suspected you as an accomplice in this case. We had our doubts at first because it’s our jobs to suspect everyone, but Deputy Hawkins has been looking into you since he arrived in town, and he’s cleared you completely.”

  “That’s good to know,” Mr. Thurgood replied. The pallor didn’t leave his skin, though, and Christopher could tell that he was still deeply disturbed. “I insisted upon the contract I signed with Mr. Wells because I wanted to be certain that he’d hold up his end of the bargain, but now I’m wondering if that was a mistake. It bound him to the agreement, but it also enslaved me.”

  “Seems to me that when someone has broken the law, their previous commitments should be null and void,” Deputy Hawkins said. “They should lose their privileges.”

  “That would be nice in some ways, and unfair in others,” Christopher replied. “Our job is to uphold the law, not create it or reform it.”

  The deputy gave a nod. Christopher knew the man was just letting off some steam, but he still felt the need to keep things in line.

  “Once you’d made the agreement with Mr. Wells, did anything unusual happen?” he asked Mr. Thurgood.

  “A few things, yes,” Mr. Thurgood replied. “For starters, he wanted to take over the Circle C ranch.”

  “The one adjoining his new property?” Christopher asked just to be certain.

  “That’s right. At this point, I wasn’t overly concerned—in fact, I was pleased to be making such a nice profit. But then Mr. Wells told me that he wanted my help to take the Circle C away from Royce Clark.”

  “Did he have any particular issue with Mr. Clark?”

  “Not that I’m aware of, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised. He tried to make it sound like he thought it was a shrewd land purchase, but there did seem to be an underlying current of something personal.”

  “And you never figured out what it was?”

  “No. I told him I didn’t know anything about the ranch, and he said he didn’t need my help—that he could take care of things without it.”

  Christopher mulled that over. “That sounds like a threat.”

  “It did to me as well—toward both me and Royce Clark. He called it the cost of business, as though I should just expect to see people lose their homes if I was going to remain in this profession. That’s when I started to get uncomfortable with the situation. He said I could own the town if I continued working with him. I gave him back his money—I all but threw it at him—but he left it alone and told me to think things over. At this point, I knew for sure that I was being threatened.” He paused. “What made things even worse was that he’d started showing interest in the young lady I wished to marry, and I didn’t like his close proximity to her. Thankfully, she chose me instead. She got the much better man.”

  Christopher smiled. “Yes, I can see that she did. What happened next, Mr. Thurgood, after Wells refused to take the money?” He didn’t have anything against Mr. Thurgood taking a little trip down memory lane, but he did need to finish this line of questioning at some point. Time already felt like it was ticking away from him, and he had so much to do.

  “He came back, and I told him I was definitely out of the loop. He said he’d have to withdraw the protection I’d otherwise receive as one of his associates. He finally took the money, reminded me that our one contract was still in effect, and I made sure he understood that would be the only contract I’d ever be signing with him. His expression—well, let’s just say that he was no longer the dapper, dashing Englishman he’d first presented himself to be. Now he looked like a messenger from the pit. I’ve never seen eyes so dark and soulless.”

  Christopher glanced at the deputy, then back at Mr. Thurgood. “Then what?”

  “Then I met with Mr. Newell, the lawyer—” Mr. Thurgood stopped. “I’m so sorry. I should have organized my thoughts and given you the facts in chronological order instead of skipping around as I have been. I confess to being a little rattled.”

  “Understandable,” Christopher told him. It didn’t matter to him exactly when each event had occurred—he just needed a foundation for the story.

  “The most difficult part . . .” Mr. Thurgood seemed reluctant to go on.

  “Yes?”

  “A man named Wade broke into my wife’s tea shop and vandalized it. She wasn’t my wife at the time, you see, but she was very important to me, and I took it as a message that I should have stayed on Mr. Wells’ good side. She wasn’t hurt, but some damage was caused, and the whole thing was quite frightening. It brought us closer together, to be honest, but it wasn’t the most romantic way for two people to share their feelings.”

  “Oh? I would have thought vandalism to be quite romantic,” Christopher replied, a smile twitching about his mouth. “Was there a definite connection between this Wade fellow and Mr. Wells?”

  “No, we could never prove one. That’s always the thing with Thomas Wells—everything he said could be taken in multiple ways, and there was never any solid evid
ence of wrongdoing. You just knew that something was making you uncomfortable, and it was impossible to put your finger on it. Was I glad to see him leave town? Absolutely. But I’d love to discharge this contract and be done with him forever.”

  Christopher nodded. “I understand that. You should know, Mr. Thurgood, that your situation isn’t unusual. Thomas Wells has been carrying on these shenanigans for years, and while it’s unfortunate that you were mixed up in his dealings in Creede, you’re not at fault and you shouldn’t feel as though you are. He’s a master at his craft, skilled in getting people to trust him. You’re not foolish for becoming involved with him.”

  Mr. Thurgood forced a smile. “How did you know what I’ve been feeling?”

  “It’s a very common reaction to have when one is swindled. Move past those feelings and help us, Mr. Thurgood. Let’s turn your experience into something positive.”

  Mr. Thurgood seemed taken aback. “Help you? But what can I possibly do? He’s left town, and I have no idea where he’s gone.”

  “That’s true, but you’re still holding those properties for him, and he’s going to want them back,” Christopher pointed out. “I don’t imagine that getting run out of Creede was very good for his business, and he’s likely running low on funds.”

  “Unless his employer has him doing other jobs,” Deputy Hawkins pointed out.

  “I’m of two minds about that,” Christopher replied. “Either his employer was annoyed with him for getting involved in something so publicized here in town and hasn’t asked him to do more, or there is no employer and Wells is working independently.”

  “Why do you think that?” Hawkins wanted to know. “We haven’t seen or heard from him—how can you know what’s going on in his mind?”

  “I’m just making a guess based on other cases I’ve worked on,” Christopher replied. “Human nature is one thing we can always count on—people change, but human nature itself doesn’t. Thomas Wells wants those properties back—or, I should say, he wants the money from them. I believe that if we bait the hook, our little fishy will come swimming back.”