His brothers.
The very thought of strangers getting their hands on money that should be hers nearly drove her to the edge of madness. There wasn’t a single person in this miserable hellhole who was remotely related to Samuel Lowe, but she was his niece, his only living relative. Everything should have been left to her. Elliot could have stayed in charge of the company. She’d have seen that he got a good salary. But no, Uncle Samuel had said Elliot was his son and that everything would be left to him. Bridgette had been willing to share with Elliot when he was going to marry her, but now he deserved nothing. And his greedy relatives deserved nothing as well. They pretended they didn’t want his money, but she knew better. No one who could afford to leave this godforsaken spot would have stayed if they’d had two coins to rub together.
What had to happen next was inevitable. Bridgette felt a tiny twinge of regret, but she banished it as easily as she would swat an annoying insect. Everything was Elliot’s fault. None of this would have happened if he’d died like he was supposed to.
She’d have to take care of that.
* * *
When Bridgette saw so many strange men staring at her with naked lust in their eyes, she knew she’d come to the right place. When you wanted something dangerous done, there was no better place to look for someone to do it than among the men who’d been dismissed from the army. They were used to danger, had fewer morals than most, and were always in need of money. The only question was how to go about finding the right man.
She thought of approaching one of the women, but they had a tendency to be suspicious of other women, especially when they were beautiful and were where they weren’t supposed to be. They also had an annoying habit of remembering the wrong details.
She decided to start by walking down the streets of Camp Verde. Thanks to her father being constantly in debt and always looking to make a buck by dubious means, she knew a great deal more about Chicago’s underbelly than was usual for a woman of her position in society.
Her position in society! Just thinking about that made her angry. Chicago didn’t even exist forty years ago. Her Uncle Samuel Lowe was practically a founding member of society, but thanks to her reprobate of a father, she wouldn’t have had any position in that society if it hadn’t been for her uncle and his money. Despite her beauty and her expensive clothes, she’d been subjected to snubs and slights. She’d only been welcomed into the upper reaches when her future engagement to Elliot Lowe became common knowledge. That was a position she was determined not to lose.
Thanks to some of the men who came to their house looking for her father, she knew enough to recognize the kind of man she wanted. She smiled to herself when a man who appeared to be that type approached her.
“Can I help you find something?” His words said one thing, but his eyes pored over her body.
“I’m looking for a man who wouldn’t hesitate to cut your throat if the price was right.”
The man’s startled reaction told her he wasn’t the man she wanted.
“What would a beautiful woman like you be wanting with a man like that?” He appeared to think she was teasing him or playing some kind of game. “I know half a dozen men who’d cut a throat just to be near you.”
“Then give me the name of the man who’d cut the other five throats to have me to himself.”
Apparently convinced she wasn’t joking, the man drew back. “If murder’s what you have in mind, the man you want is Wat Pfefferkorn. He’d slice his own mother for the price of a beer.”
She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I would never ask anyone to commit murder, but what I have in mind could possibly be very dangerous.”
“If that’s what you’re after, there’s lots of men who’d tackle danger for a woman who looks like you.”
Bridgette couldn’t understand why men were so stupid they never looked beyond a woman’s face or her body. That made it easy to control them. “I’m sure you’re right, but I want a man who would stop at nothing to defend me. Mr. Pfefferkorn sounds like that kind of man. Where might I find him?”
“Ask for him at Dyer’s Saloon. But if you’ll take my advice, you won’t go near that place. Wat is the worst of the lot that hangs out there.”
“What harm could come to me on the grounds of an army fort?”
“From the looks of you, more than you can guess.”
“Don’t make the mistake of judging a woman by her looks,” Bridgette told him.
“Seems I just have,” the man said and turned away.
His reaction annoyed Bridgette, but she wasn’t about to let vanity get in her way. She had come here on a mission, and this clueless man had just delivered the weapon she needed into her hands.
* * *
Sibyl was relieved she didn’t have to feel bad about not inviting Bridgette to the gathering in her home that evening. The get-together was just for Logan’s brothers, their wives, and their children. Cassie and her Pinkerton admirer were included because one never seemed able to exclude her from anything. The excuse for the gathering was to come up with ideas for a business the brothers could go into together, but the real reason was to celebrate Logan’s decision to stay in Cactus Corner. If it had been possible for Sibyl to love Logan more than she already did, she’d have been out of her mind over him.
She was making one last check on the food laid out in the kitchen when Kitty asked, “What’s in that bottle?”
“What bottle?” It seemed every inch of the counters and the table was covered with platters of meat, dishes of vegetables, plates waiting to be loaded up, and glasses waiting to be filled. How could she be expected to notice one little bottle?
“That one.” Kitty pointed to a dark blue bottle that was almost hidden between the flour and sugar bins. “It’s been there a long time.”
It took Sibyl a moment before she remembered. “It’s the medicine Bridgette brought for Logan, but he had already stopped taking anything.”
“Do you think she wants it back?”
“I’m sure she doesn’t.”
“Do you want me to throw it away?”
“If you want.”
When Kitty reached for the bottle, Trusty jumped up from where he’d been lying under the table. He knew he wasn’t allowed to touch anything on the table or counters, but anything in a person’s hands was open for inspection. He pressed his nose to the bottle the minute Kitty lowered it from the counter.
“Stop it, Trusty. You don’t need medicine. You’re not sick.”
Apparently Trusty didn’t understand or didn’t care because he nudged the bottle so hard Kitty dropped it. The stopper came out, and the dark brown liquid spilled onto the floor. Trusty managed to get his tongue into the liquid before Kitty shoved him aside.
“Bad dog!” Kitty scolded. “Look what you’ve done. Aren’t you ashamed?”
Sibyl laughed. “I don’t think it’s possible to shame that dog. You hold him, and I’ll clean up the spill.”
“I’m going to take you outside,” Kitty said to Trusty. “You don’t deserve to be allowed inside.”
Sibyl chuckled to herself as she poured the rest of the medicine down the drain and chucked the bottle into the waste bin. Kitty was almost more grown-up than her mother, but in a way that made her sad. Norman’s treatment of the child had forced her to be mature beyond her years. Kitty came back as Sibyl was cleaning the last of the spill from the floor.
“Peter says he’ll play with Trusty,” she said with a disapproving frown that had Sibyl chuckling again. “How is Trusty going to know he’s being punished?”
“I don’t think it matters. If Peter is here, that means the rest of his family is at the front door. Come on. We can’t be caught in the kitchen.”
With the arrival of her guests, Sibyl forgot all about Bridgette’s medicine and thoroughly enjoyed herself. She listen
ed to Naomi and Laurie talk about their children and watched the three brothers talking over ideas of what they might do together. It had already been decided that the two banks would be joined, but it appeared that Logan had to find ways to invest a lot more money.
“It looks like you’re going from being the richest woman in Cactus Corner,” Naomi said, “to the wife of the richest man west of the Mississippi. No wonder Bridgette is upset he’s not going to marry her.”
“A least no one can accuse me of marrying him for his money,” Sibyl said.
“Not since you fell in love with him when everybody thought he was a drifter on his deathbed and his face was so swollen it looked like it could pop at any moment,” Cassie told them.
Sibyl laughed. “He never looked that bad.”
“Only in your eyes,” Laurie said. “The rest of us thought you’d lost your mind.” She looked to where Logan was standing with his brothers. “He’s looking a lot better. His face doesn’t look nearly as swollen. I think I can see the resemblance to Colby. What do you think?”
“I agree, but it wouldn’t matter if nothing had changed. The rest of him is so beautiful I don’t think about his face.”
“Can’t we talk about something else?” Logan asked. “It feels like I’ve been the subject of every conversation in this town since I arrived.”
“You have to admit you haven’t exactly kept a low profile,” Colby said. “Did you think minor events like stopping a bank robbery, throwing yourself at runaway horses, and beating me at shooting were going to go unnoticed?”
“I hadn’t planned to do any of that,” Logan pointed out.
Colby laughed. “I hadn’t planned to rescue half of this town from an Indian attack, but I did, and look what happened.”
Naomi elbowed her husband. “That was the luckiest day of your life.”
“Have you forgotten about the arrow in my back?”
“If you even hint that you regret it, I’ll do something so terrible you’ll wish it was just an arrow.”
Sibyl shook her head. After five years, it still amazed her that two people as deeply in love as Colby and Naomi should still battle like teenagers.
“Could you two cut it out?” Jared asked. “It’s enough to make Logan want to go back to Chicago.”
“Nothing could be that bad,” Logan said.
“Wait until you’ve been here a couple of years. By the way, did you hear about the break-in at the lawyer’s office?”
“I heard it this morning,” Naomi said. “The lawyer was at my door before we finished breakfast.”
“Does he know what was taken?”
“He said everything had been pulled out, and papers were strewn all over the office. It’ll probably take him a couple of weeks before he can straighten things up enough to begin to figure out what was taken.”
“No one has ever broken into an office in Cactus Corner,” Colby said. “We’ll have to contact the marshal. He’s your friend, Jared, so it’s up to you.”
“He’s over in Prescott right now, but I’ll talk to him when he gets back.”
“That’ll be too late. I think we should—”
The door from the back parlor burst open, and Peter rushed in. “Something’s wrong with Trusty. I think he’s dead.”
Nineteen
“He’s been poisoned,” Dr. Kessling announced after a brief examination, “but I can’t find any sign of a rattlesnake bite.”
Everyone had crowded into the kitchen. In the wake of this tragedy, even the children had forgotten it was time to eat.
“A snake didn’t bite him,” Peter said. “I was there when Kitty brought him outside. We stayed in the yard the whole time.”
“Could he have gotten hold of some rotten meat?”
“Not in my kitchen,” Sibyl insisted, “and he hasn’t been fed since this morning. I haven’t given him anything but water since.”
“He didn’t lick up much of the medicine,” Kitty said.
“What medicine?” the doctor asked.
“It was the medicine Bridgette brought for Logan,” Sibyl said, “but he never took any of it. Kitty was going to throw it out, but Trusty knocked it out of her hands. The stopper came out, and he lapped up some before we could stop him.”
“No medicine I know of could make a dog this sick,” the doctor said, “or cause these symptoms. This dog has been poisoned. I’d stake my reputation on it.”
For a moment the room was in complete silence as the implication began to sink in.
“I have never liked the woman,” Naomi said, “but why would she try to poison Logan? She said she was in love with him, that she wanted to marry him.”
The Pinkerton agent spoke up. “If she brought the medicine herself, that means it was in her possession for a period of time.”
“What are you trying to say?” Sibyl asked.
“He’s trying to say Bridgette could have poisoned Logan,” Cassie said. “That woman hates every one of us. She’s determined to get Logan’s money for herself.”
“But she wouldn’t poison him,” Sibyl protested. “She’s in love with him.”
“Tell them what you found,” Cassie said to the Pinkerton.
“Is this the information you tried to give me earlier?” Logan asked.
The Pinkerton nodded. “I always like to make sure the work I do doesn’t have any unfortunate results,” the agent began, “so I also investigate my clients. That’s how I learned that Miss Lowe was seeing Doctor James Pittman on a regular basis. I also learned that Miss Lowe was asking through certain connections of her late father for information about a forger.”
“She wouldn’t need a forger,” Logan said. “According to a codicil to my father’s will, she would get everything if I died.”
“Which you almost did,” the agent pointed out.
“Are you saying you think the doctor was poisoning him?” Dr. Kessling asked.
“You’re the one who insisted he was acting like he was poisoned,” Naomi reminded her father.
“Yes, but by his own doctor?”
“Bridgette is a beautiful woman,” Cassie said. “A face like hers has driven more than one man to commit murder.”
“The lawyer’s office,” Logan said. “Now it all makes sense.”
“What has the break-in got to do with Bridgette?” Sibyl asked.
“I’m certain the lawyer will find the only document missing is my new will. An expert forger would be able to make a new one.”
“But if you were dead, she wouldn’t need a new one,” Sibyl pointed out.
“I didn’t make a will before I left Chicago, and she didn’t know about the codicil. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I’m beginning to believe my uncle didn’t trust her. In any case, she would have wanted a will that gave her unquestioned control of everything.”
“I say we find out just what she’s been doing,” Colby said.
“What about Trusty?” Kitty asked. “Is he going to die?”
“I don’t think so,” the doctor told her. “He didn’t swallow much, and he threw it up. He’s tough.”
“Come on,” Colby said. “Sibyl said Bridgette told her she was leaving town soon.”
Sibyl had wanted to come with them, but Logan had convinced her to stay with their guests. He was glad that he did because when they got to the hotel, the place was in an uproar.
“There was a lot of shouting in her room,” the manager told Logan. “When I went to see what was wrong, a man told me to go away, or he’d put a bullet between my eyes.” The manager straightened himself. “I’m not a coward, but I didn’t have a gun. I never liked that woman, but I didn’t suspect her of keeping that kind of company. The man was Wat Pfefferkorn. He’s as close to being a murderer as makes no difference.”
“We’ll go up and see what’s going o
n,” Colby said.
“I wouldn’t recommend it, Mr. Colby, sir.”
“There are three of us,” Colby said.
“Why don’t you and Jared stay down here?” Logan said to Colby. “There’s no point in all three of us going, and I’m the one Bridgette apparently wants dead.”
“You have brothers now,” Colby said. “We’re going with you.”
“Is there a back door?” Jared asked the manager.
“Yes, but you have to come through the lobby to reach it.”
“Then I’ll stay here in case either of them tries to sneak out.”
“Okay, let’s go.” Logan had always known Bridgette thought she should have inherited her uncle’s money, but he couldn’t believe she would go to the extreme of convincing his doctor to poison him to get it. Nor could he imagine why Dr. Pittman would take a chance on ruining a sterling career by poisoning one of his patients.
“I told Norman not to build a hotel with two floors,” Colby said as they climbed the stairs. “We never had enough visitors to fill half the rooms.”
“Does Sibyl own this hotel?”
“There’s not much in Cactus Corner that isn’t owned by someone in their family.”
The carpet in the hall deadened their footsteps, so the sound of Logan knocking on the door sounded like a small explosion of sound. “Bridgette, it’s Logan. I’ve come to talk to you.”
The only response was the muffled sound of footsteps and harsh whispers.
Colby elbowed Logan aside. “You might as well open the door. We’re not going away until we talk to you.”
The response was a pistol shot that splintered the door and narrowly missed Logan. Colby pushed his brother aside only to have two more pistol shots send bullets that buried themselves in his body.
Logan forgot all about Bridgette. The horrible realization that he’d gotten his brother killed nearly incapacitated him. Dropping to his knees, he ripped open Colby’s shirt. One bullet had gone through his upper arm. The other had entered his chest.
Jared came racing up the stairs. “What happened?” he shouted even as he dropped to the floor beside Colby.
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