by Carol Cox
Merrick shot a sharp look at him. “What’s this?”
“I was going through the files on some of the purchases we’ve made over the past year, and I discovered something that has me concerned.”
Merrick followed him and glanced down at the papers. His face hardened, and the muscles tightened along his jaw. He looked back at Ben. “What exactly is bothering you?”
“On the Seaver and Gilbreth papers, there’s a notation to indicate the number of the bank draft used to pay the seller.” Ben bent over the desk and pointed out the figures in question. “But the Rogers and Smith papers don’t show any means of payment at all.”
“Is that all?” Merrick’s face smoothed back into its usual placid expression. “I’m sure it’s only a minor oversight. Who handled these transactions? I’ll have a word with him and remind him to be more careful about following procedure from now on.”
“They were both handled by Eddie Franklin, but there’s more to it than a couple of missing draft numbers.” Ben drew a deep breath and braced himself. “When I tried to find those bank drafts listed in the ledger, there were no entries for them. It would appear the payment was never made. Moreover, it looks to me like the same hand signed both documents with the sellers’ names.
“And here—” He opened a second folder and retrieved the papers at the top of the file. “It appears to be the same handwriting again, transferring ownership of those properties to something called Southwest Land Development.” He looked up at his boss, awaiting an answer.
Owen Merrick stiffened. His face became a stony mask. “As I recall, I am paying you to do the work assigned to you. That includes your normal duties as well as this special assignment with Miss Wagner. It does not include snooping through company files that don’t concern you.”
Ben squared his shoulders and held his ground. “My assignment was to befriend Miss Wagner and convince her to look at Great Western in a positive light, and possibly print a retraction of what her father had written. In order to do that, I had to find a way to allay her suspicions. I decided the best means of doing that was to go back through her father’s articles to find out what sparked his concerns. To get a better understanding of what was going on in the company at that time, I went through records of the purchases the company made, and that led me to these.” He gestured toward the papers on his desk.
“If I’m going to set her mind at ease, I need to be able to explain discrepancies like these, and frankly, I’m at a loss as to how to do that.”
He paused a moment, wondering if he really wanted to add more fuel to an already heated situation. In for a penny, in for a pound. Drawing a deep breath, he added, “There is also the matter of the McCaffrey reservoir. Why did we give Bart McCaffrey reason to believe we would purchase water from him, only to jerk the rug out from under him after the reservoir was built? That kind of action doesn’t paint the company in a good light . . . especially since we bought the land outright after he was forced into foreclosure.”
Merrick shrugged and folded his arms. “That can all be easily accounted for, but I don’t have time to go into it right now. I have too many other pressing issues to attend to at the moment.” He fixed Ben with a speculative gaze. “After all the years I’ve known you and your family, surely you can grant me the benefit of the doubt instead of making mountains out of molehills.”
Ben looked at the man who had been his father’s lifelong friend, feeling as though scales were dropping from his eyes and letting him see Owen Merrick clearly for the first time. “Are they molehills, sir? Mr. Wagner was a very persuasive writer. He obviously had serious misgivings about the way the company handled its business, and looking at these”— he gestured again at the papers without taking his gaze from the other man’s face—“it’s hard for me not to wonder if his allegations didn’t contain as least a nugget of truth.”
Merrick’s visage darkened. “I hope you’re not suggesting I would countenance anything underhanded while I’m in charge here. The two of us go back a long way. Your father has been like a brother to me, and that’s the reason I took you under my wing. Why else would I have given an opportunity like this to someone as young and inexperienced as you are?”
He laid his hand on Ben’s shoulder, and his voice lost some of its steel. “Up to now, you’ve done well and shown a lot of promise. You could have a bright career ahead of you. Don’t jeopardize that future by making rash allegations.”
Memories of the past rose up, reminding Ben of all the stories he had heard about his father owing his life to Owen Merrick. He wouldn’t have been born if the man standing before him hadn’t saved his father from a Rebel bullet.
But people could change, he reminded himself. Every choice a person made had the potential to lead him in a new direction. How well he knew that! And he couldn’t dismiss the fact that Merrick worked hand in glove with Thaddeus Grayson, a man Amelia thoroughly distrusted.
Ben steadied himself. “You’re right. I don’t want to be guilty of misjudging anyone. That’s why I’m asking for clarification on these issues.”
“It’s her, isn’t it? That Miss Wagner.” Merrick let his arm fall to his side, and his face grew cold. “What kind of nonsense has she filled your head with? I entrusted you with the responsibility of making her see reason. I never dreamed you would be so easily swayed by a pretty face. But let me tell you something—underneath that attractive exterior, the girl has a heart as dark as her father’s. And she is just as narrow-minded as he was in her perceptions of a company doing its best to bring prosperity to this whole region.”
“To the region? Or to yourself?” Ben watched Merrick’s face change as his words hit home. “That’s the way it’s beginning to look, anyway. As for Miss Wagner, the idea that there is anything dishonest about her couldn’t be further from the truth. If she really is like her father, he must have been quite a man, and it makes me more inclined than ever to take a second look at what he wrote.”
Merrick’s eyes flashed. “It sounds to me like you’ve reached a crossroads, Ben. And only you can decide which path to take. Are you a company man, or not? Where do your loyalties lie?”
Ben lifted his chin. His employer was right—his choices were all too clear. He eyed his boss with a level gaze and made his decision. “With the truth, sir.”
Merrick drew himself up, his dark eyes boring into Ben’s. “I don’t appreciate what you’re implying. If that’s the position you intend to take, there may not be a place for you here any longer.”
“I agree. And since that’s the case, I quit.” Pivoting on his heel, Ben walked to the coatrack to retrieve his hat and jacket. Slipping his arms into the jacket sleeves and settling the hat atop his head, he strode out the front door and kept on walking.
The dazzling morning sun cast the buildings along First Street into sharp relief. Ben wished his thoughts could be as clear as the crisp lines of the storefronts. What had he just done, walking away from a well-paying job and alienating his father’s lifelong friend?
He shook his head as he walked along. Maybe he should go straight to the Gazette and let Amelia know what had happened. But he wasn’t sure he felt ready to face Amelia with this news yet, not until he had some idea of what he was going to do next.
What he really needed now was time alone with God. With that thought in mind, he turned his steps toward his boardinghouse. Once he had gone to his room and picked up his Bible, he hiked up a nearby hill to the point where the cedars gave way to pine trees. Settling under a spreading Ponderosa, he opened the book on his lap. Of their own accord, the pages fell open to the story of Jonah.
He smiled at the irony. God couldn’t have found a better way of getting his attention. He read through the familiar story, once again seeing all too clearly the parallels between Jonah’s life and his own: a call to service that had been ignored, followed by a flight to a far-off land. But while Jonah found passage on a ship headed to Tarshish, Ben had boarded a train bound for Arizona.
Unlike Jonah, he hadn’t encountered a life-threatening storm or been swallowed by a big fish en route. He made it safely to his destination, all the while trying to convince himself he could do the Lord’s will there as well as anywhere.
And there he had encountered Amelia Wagner, whose passion for truth had turned his life upside down. Now he sat two thousand miles from home, without a job or any prospects for the future. Maybe in his case the storm had come at the end of the trip, not the beginning.
Would the parallels with Jonah’s story end there? Ben pondered the question while he searched the open pages again. God had directed that big fish to swim all the way to the shore before depositing Jonah at a point where he could continue his journey and get his life back on track. But in Ben’s case, he saw no similar form of deliverance or direction. Despite the heat of the day, a chill crept up his spine.
Had he run so far that he could never go back?
Owen Merrick listened to the murmur of voices filtering in through his closed office door. He had barely stirred since dropping into his chair after Ben walked out, but his mind had been frantic with activity.
He looked down at the documents on his desk and ground his teeth. Why now? Of all the times for this to happen. He had been so sure he’d covered his tracks, but Ben had somehow stumbled upon the very records that had the potential to bring his and Grayson’s plans to ruin. Who would have dreamed anyone would have a reason to look at both the Rogers and Smith papers at the same time? The similarities in those signatures would never have been noticed if they hadn’t been seen side by side. He should have had Franklin sign one of them, rather than signing both himself.
He squeezed his forehead between his palms, trying to ease the building pressure. It was always the little things that seemed to trip people up. And added to those signatures was the tiny detail of missing draft notations. Why hadn’t Franklin had the foresight to jot some numbers down before he filed the documents?
Or perhaps he should have just written out actual drafts and entered their numbers in the ledger, even though they never would have been cashed. Dead men didn’t need money, after all.
Maybe all wasn’t lost, even if Ben did take this news to that nosy Wagner woman. Even though he suspected something was amiss, he hadn’t figured everything out. All he’d done was ask questions, and it would take more than mere questions to bring down the plans he and Grayson had so carefully constructed.
He beat out a light rhythm on the desktop with his fingertips. Was Ben capable of pursuing matters far enough to cause them actual harm? Perhaps. The boy was clever enough, and his obvious feelings for the comely newspaper editor had gone so far as to shift his allegiance from Great Western to Amelia Wagner. How much could the two of them find out if they joined forces?
Pushing his chair back, he rose to his feet and began pacing his office. The boy wouldn’t get far enough to uncover their carefully laid plans, not if he could block his efforts.
It was like a game of chess, he thought, where a man had to think several moves ahead. There had been a shift in the game’s strategy, but that didn’t mean the winner was assured, only that he had to adjust his tactics.
Their grand design could still succeed. He would make sure it did. All he needed to do was move things ahead more quickly. He considered a number of strategic moves, trying to foresee what the opposing parties’ response might be.
If only it hadn’t been for the Gazette! He pounded his fist against his palm. Andrew Wagner and his insistence on asking questions had been the start of all their problems. When the man conveniently took sick and died, he’d thought problems from that quarter were over. But no—his upstart daughter had to come along and kept the paper going. As long as she was in charge, the potential for damage remained.
“You look like a man with a lot on his mind.”
Merrick spun around and saw Thaddeus Grayson standing in the doorway. He hadn’t even heard the door open—the man moved like a cat when he wanted to. With an effort, he composed his features and assumed an air of confidence. He and Grayson might be working toward the same ends, but that didn’t mean he trusted the man.
Grayson closed the door with a soft click, then walked over to settle himself on the corner of Merrick’s desk. From his affable demeanor, an outsider would guess them to be two old cronies ready to settle in for a chat.
“You seem distraught.” Grayson’s voice was smooth as silk. “Is there anything going on I should be aware of?”
“Not at all. I was just working out the plans for our next move.” He wasn’t about to let the other man know about Ben walking out on them.
Grayson studied him with a long, thoughtful look, as if uncertain whether to believe his assurances or not. Then he gave a slight shrug and seemed to dismiss his doubts. “I just wanted to let you know I’m on my way back to Denver.”
Merrick felt his eyebrows shoot up. “With your stepdaughter, I hope?” He saw a flicker of annoyance in the other man’s eyes and felt a spark of pleasure at seeing his jab find its mark.
“Not yet.” Grayson made a show of adjusting his jacket sleeve. “But I’m sure she’ll be joining her mother and me shortly.”
Merrick permitted himself a small smile at the other man’s discomfiture. “I tried to tell you pushing her so hard wouldn’t work. Remember, slow and steady wins the race.”
“Are you referring to your plan of having your young protégé worm his way into her heart?” Grayson scoffed. “I thought it was a bad idea when you first told me of it, and I haven’t changed my mind. That’s why I have taken it upon myself to set my own plans in motion.”
Merrick’s body grew rigid. “What are you talking about?”
“Some of our investors back east are not happy with the progress you’ve made—or should I say the lack of it?”
Merrick balled his hands into fists. “What is that supposed to mean? You’ve been talking to them behind my back?”
“They’re anxious to see a return on their investment, and your overly cautious attitude is holding up the whole operation. Their patience is nearing an end. We need to move ahead quickly, and so I’ve decided more persuasive methods are in order. To that end, I’ve called in some help, people who can’t be tied to either one of us.”
“Are you talking about shoulder-strikers?” Merrick took a step forward. “You can’t bring rowdies into this town. You’ve spent too much time in the East. Out here, you can’t mistreat a woman. A lynch mob would string you up as soon as they caught you.”
Grayson chuckled. “I didn’t realize you were so sensitive. Don’t worry, I’m not going to harm the girl. I just want to discourage her enough to make her realize there’s nothing here for her.”
Merrick’s head swung slowly from side to side. “People in this town already know there’s bad feelings between me and the newspaper. If anything should happen to Miss Wagner, I’ll be the first one they look at.”
“In that case, I suggest you establish your whereabouts at all times so you’ll have an unimpeachable alibi.” A feline smile curved Grayson’s lips. “That’s exactly the reason I’m leaving today. I don’t want my name to be tied to this, either.”
He pulled out his pocket watch to check the time and stood, brushing a fleck of dust from the sleeve of his immaculate gray suit. “The train will be pulling in shortly, so I’d best be on my way.” Striding to the door, he paused for a moment and turned back to Merrick.
“Our investors need to see some decisive action if they’re going to ride this out with us. They won’t hesitate to pull their money out if they think this may go badly. My intervention has given us a second chance. Don’t ruin it.”
Chapter 24
Amelia threaded her way through the Friday shoppers who bustled to and fro along the boardwalk, feeling as though she existed in some sort of bubble. The people around her seemed absorbed in their own activity, and she made no effort to connect with any of them. Not after seeing those hateful quotes about Martin Gil
breth that had been printed in the previous day’s issue of the Gazette.
From the very beginning, this day hadn’t gone well. She’d come down the stairs first thing in the morning, prepared to make amends to Homer. The discovery that he’d been drinking again had upset her, but further reflection made her wonder how much responsibility could be laid at her door. Had her sharp comments, coupled with the pressure of getting the newspaper out singlehandedly, been the catalyst that pushed him over the edge?
Her good intentions were thwarted when she’d found a note propped up on the press:
Need some time to myself. Be back this afternoon.
Thaddeus Grayson’s taunting words came back to haunt her. She knew she had hurt Homer, but had she alienated him to the point he no longer wanted to spend time at the Gazette—or around her—on a regular basis?
She’d spent the morning cleaning up around the printing office, then fixed herself a quick lunch before venturing out to see what news she might gather. It was high time she resumed her role as the Gazette’s chief reporter. But except for her visit to the general store, she might as well have stayed at the newspaper. No one seemed to want to talk to her today. Even the usually genial Emmett Kingston seemed distant.
And once again, Ben was nowhere to be seen. She’d almost summoned up enough nerve to ask for him at the Great Western office, but she simply couldn’t bring herself to do it. How she missed his company! She hadn’t seen him since he brought those suspected forgeries to the paper.
Where had he been for the past two days? Had he discovered anything more? She longed to talk to him. Perhaps together they could find the elusive answers to the questions that plagued her. Be honest, she chided herself. You’d be happy to talk to him about anything.
And it was true. Ben Stone had become an important part of the fabric of her life. The image of his slow smile and the way his green eyes seemed to look into her soul filled her thoughts more and more with each passing day. And that near kiss the night of the concert . . . Amelia caught her breath at the memory of his lips, so tantalizingly close to hers. If only they hadn’t been interrupted!