Chapter Seven
"I need this job. Don't make me break your arm."
Jake perked up as he heard Worley Bodman, Pasley's foreman and hired bully, utter the threat in a low tone to a young miner by the name of Timmy Tanner.
This was the kind of dirt Jake needed to help bring down Geary Pasley. Would Maxine hate him for revealing the rotten core that comprised her uncle? She already knew that Pasley had ordered Bodman to blacken Jake's eye because of his interest in courting her. His black eye was pretty much healed—a least it was more of a yellow hue than purple. But was she ready to believe that her uncle would be responsible for roughing up miners who couldn't pay their bills?
If his conversation with her yesterday gave any hint to her reaction he would say yes. She would despise him. She might not ever talk to him again, especially if she discovered he was running cons of his own. But he must go forward with his plans, and take advantage of any given opportunities. And this was much better than breaking into Pasley's office. After all, if Pasley was smart, he would have gotten rid of the original blueprints, which would be proof that the idea was David's. For Jake to break into the place would most likely be in vain.
He smothered his doubts. Instead, he told himself that bringing down Pasley would help Maxine in the long run. At least she would know the truth.
Although the foreman stood several feet away from Jake when he had whispered the intimidation, Jake's sharp hearing had picked up on the words. Too bad timing wasn't better. On the other hand, he supposed he didn't have to watch the card game to see his plan unfold.
His plan had started about an hour ago when Theo Caper, Jake's friend from Cojocaru's Medicine Show, lured Tanner and his two miner friends to play poker at the far table. Shortly afterward, Roxanne Boone—the waitress from the Forty-Niner—walked over the threshold, the same time she did every Tuesday and Thursday. And, just like last week, Roxanne joined in on the poker game. Jake had hired Theo to further his cause—that was, to get more entrenched into Maxine's good graces. And that involved Roxanne, one of Maxine's best friends.
He'd wanted Maxine to accept him. No, not only accept him. Not anymore. To accept his courtship. To become enamored of him. Why?
As he watched Theo discard cards that would have given him a flush, purposely losing the hand, he finally admitted the truth to himself; he wanted her for more than just a way to avenge his brother.
He was beginning to care for her more than he liked to admit. The realization bothered him so much that he'd almost gotten up to leave the Pearly Gates for a walk to clear his head. That was when Varney had emitted a sharp, low bark, and then had looked up at him with those almost-human-like eyes, as if ordering him to stay instead of the other way around.
Why the dog didn't hang around Theo, the trainer, was beyond Jake. That the animal preferred him over Theo was ironic to say the least, especially when the terrier had previously only wanted to latch onto him with its teeth.
"Why would you want to break my arm?" Tanner replied, his eyes wide.
"Let's take this conversation someplace more private." Bodman turned toward the exit. When he realized Tanner wasn't following, the burly man stomped back toward the miner where he sat at the other end of the long bar and grabbed the man's upper arm.
"Leave me alone and let me finish my drink," young Tanner retorted.
As Jake listened to the exchange, he thanked lady luck for Varney, the cantankerous canine. If he'd gone for fresh air he wouldn't have heard Bodman threaten the miner. Although Tanner's friends were still in the game, Tanner himself had folded after he'd lost nearly two hundred dollars. At least the man had the acumen to get out. Because Theo was working the table beautifully. His friend was as cagey as he remembered; he allowed the other players to win, then lose a little, then win again. He saw the sharp switch out the deck to one that was probably stacked. Soon Theo would take them all down; Miss Boone would fall the hardest.
"Timmy, my private time with you won't take long," Worley Bodman announced.
Jake pretended not to pay attention to Bodman and Tanner. Instead he looked down at his whiskey glass and swirled the amber liquid around as Bodman grabbed the miner once again by his upper arm, hauled him off the barstool, marched him across the saloon floor, and then hustled him out of the saloon despite the miner's protests.
As soon as they stepped over the threshold, Jake followed. Bodman was too busy scolding the miner, saying something along the lines that he didn't want to hurt the man but that Tanner got himself in this mess all on his own. Then he lectured Tanner over the fact the miner had to take responsibility and pay his debts. Now the men stood behind the row of businesses, at the edge of the Sierras to have their so-called private discussion. Jake leaned against a tree behind some foliage, out of sight, but within hearing distance.
"Answer me this, Worley," the miner asked. "How am I gonna dig for gold with my arm broke? 'Cause that's the only way I can pay off my debt."
"You got a point. Didn't think of that." Bodman paced, taking off his hat, then putting in on again. Just watching the foreman made Jake dizzy. Finally Bodman stopped in front of the man he'd been hired to intimidate. "Don't you have at least one hundred and fifty dollars you can give me so I don't have to hurt you?"
"No. Sorry, but I don't."
"Well, you're in trouble then. Mr. Pasley discovered that the past six days you mined more gold than you told him. And you agreed to pay him half of every gold assessment. He's mighty angry about it. You owe him two hundred dollars from this week's gold exchange. And Mr. Pasley knows you cashed in your findings yesterday. Just pay the two hundred, which will bring the total of what you owe down to one thousand dollars."
"Well, like I keep telling you, I don't have two hundred dollars."
Worley Bodman pulled his own hair in obvious frustration. "Gol' darn it, Timmy, what are you doing? You can't be seen buying and drinking whiskey and playing cards— losing at cards, more precisely— and then claim you don't have the money to pay off Mr. Pasley."
How did Bodman know how much gold Tanner had discovered? There were two places Tanner could have gone to get his gold converted to cash—the bank or the mercantile where Atherton Winslett had an assayer's office in the back. Jake was good at judging people and he instinctively knew that Winslett was a kind and honest man. He might gossip about social situations, but he would never blab about how much gold a customer brought in to exchange into cash. Jake guessed it was the banker with the questionable reputation who talked—Caleb Strauss. Although Strauss kept his head low, away from any so-called flying bullets that represented out-and-out theft, the banker had a reputation for doing questionable transactions only if he got something in return. And Jake would bet his favorite hat that Strauss was in cahoots with Pasley.
Timmy threw up his hands in exasperation. "How's a man supposed to live then? I've got to reward myself in some manner after working hard in the mines. And don't forget I got a family to support—my wife, Sara, and our son, Benjamin. Who will be two years old in four days."
"Why did you run up your bill so high in the first place, Timmy? You shouldn't have done it because you knew the bill would come due eventually."
"Pasley's a crook," Timmy grumbled. "Half the tools he sold me broke down a month after I bought 'em. The heads of three of the pick axes flew off the second week after I purchased 'em. Then, when I tried to put another handle on them, the metal fell apart."
To Jake, it sounded like inferior metal, forged with faulty material. He would be his best boots that whatever company was forging the tools either was partially owned by Pasley, or he was giving the company a kickback.
"I tried to take them back to the store," Tanner continued, "but Pasley, the old goat, said something about no refunds being the store policy. Store policy my arse. I almost wonder if he sabotaged his own inventory so miners would have to buy more."
Jake didn't just wonder. He pretty much knew that was the case.
Bodman frowned
and rubbed his beard. Then he shook his head. "That may be, and I don't like it, but I don't know how to fix it. And Pasley is about the only place I could find a job. So. Mr. Pasley says I gotta be more stern. He thinks because I'm large, I am more apt to be a bully. And that I got to punish you if you don't stick to the agreement."
"Well, don't break any—"
"Gentlemen, I have a solution," Jake interrupted.
Bodman swiveled his big body around to look at Jake. Tanner stepped to the side of Bodman to see around the bulky man.
Worley Bodman's eyes widened as he gave Jake a wary look. "I don't want no trouble, Mr. Stark. This is between me and Turner. Sorry about the eye."
"No trouble, only a way to fix what Mr. Turner owes," Jake said easily. "Oh, and I forgive you."
Bodman bunched his caterpillar-like brows. "What kind of a solution?"
Not answering right away, Jake instead withdrew five paper slips.
"What's this?" Tanner asked, his forehead wrinkling in confusion.
"Paper stocks for Whisper Railroad. Each is worth two hundred dollars. So these should pay off Mr. Tanner's debt to Mr. Pasley."
Bodman accepted the certificates. He brought the paper up close to his eyes, peering at the image of the train in the middle and the Whisper Railroad emblems on each side. He rubbed the edges between his fingers, obviously feeling the embossed edges. Then he read the supposedly legal verbiage printed on the certificates, naming the value as two hundred dollars. He nodded his massive head. "This should please Mr. Pasley."
In a nervous gesture, Tanner rotated the watch he had buckled to his wrist, still squinting in confusion. "Why would you do that, Mr. Stark? Pay my debt?" Then his eyes narrowed. "What do you expect in return?"
"Yeah, what are you going to do to poor Tanner?" Bodman asked.
Jake gave the man an incredulous glance. "Not break his arm like you were threatening to do."
"Aw, I wasn't really gonna do it. I was just gonna rough him up a little. Question is, what are you up to?"
"Do you like your job?" Jake countered. "Do you enjoy threatening people?"
Bodman rubbed the sides of his jeans. "No, not particularly."
"Do you like Geary Pasley? Do you agree with his business ethics?"
"Why?" Bodman scrunched his already squinty eyes until they were mere slits. "Are you gonna tell on me if I say so?"
"No."
Bodman rubbed his jaw and pulled on his ear. Then he finally nodded, as if Jake had passed some sort of test. "Then I admit it. No, I don't like his ethics. I can't abide by the man. He thinks I'm stupid, but I'm not. Believe me. People think I don't have much up here" —he pointed to his temple— "because I'm a big fellow. Like, because I'm big that'll make my brain small?" He shook his head. "Ridiculous. So no. I don't like the way he treats me, or the miners. If it weren't for the miners, he wouldn't have customers, or not nearly as many as he does now. But it's true. Like Tanner here claims—Pasley sabotages his own supplies, and I've always had a feeling that he has something to do with the smithing to make the tools harder to fix. So the miners have to come and buy more to replace the broken tools. And he talks down to the miners just like he does me. Except when Miss Sweeten is around."
"Oh?"
"Oh, yes," Bodman continued, the words flowing from him. It was as if Jake had removed a dam; the waterfall of words kept gushing forward. "When Miss Sweeten is around, he puts on a show full of politeness and generosity toward the customers for her. She's a good person, and Pasley knows she wouldn't abide the way he treats his customers, or what he does to the inventory."
"Why do customers keep coming back?"
"Because Pasley is the only supplier for miles around in either direction. The nearby town of Calderone tries to supply miners, but Pasley steals most of the supplies heading to that town."
"How do you know?" Jake asked, intrigued.
"Because I helped steal some of the shipments," Bodman muttered, his big face turning red as he ran a hand through his thick hair. "This is what he does. He buys tools made with inferior metal from a place called Geisinger Manufacturing. He also sometimes buys good inventory with superior metal that has a higher wholesale cost from Sheffield Manufacturing, or stops the supply wagon and steals some of the good inventory by mixing the two shipments so that all his inventory isn't inferior."
Jake filed that juicy bit of information away in the back of his mind. "Why don't you tell Miss Sweeten about the faulty supplies?"
"Because when she looks at her uncle, she sees a halo above his head," Tanner blurted. "It's because he saved her when she was young."
"How do you know?"
"Because she told a bunch of us about how she became orphaned and how alone she was until her uncle came to retrieve her."
Her forthcoming surprised Jake. She was certainly more vocal about her tragedies than he was. A rustle in the woods to his right had him turning toward the sound. But he couldn't see anything. Maybe it was a rabbit or some other critter.
"You know," Tanner murmured, tilting his head to the side, "she used to work in the shop, selling supplies. Now I rarely see her when I walk into the shop."
"Why doesn't she work in the shop anymore?" Jake asked.
"Because," Bodman interrupted, once again taking over the conversation from Tanner. "I suspect—and I assume Timmy does too—that Pasley soon realized she was too generous because she started taking back equipment and refunding the money or replacing the broken tools. Which, I suspect, wasn't what Pasley wanted. Yes, she undermined Pasley's plans to cheat the miners so that was why he now keeps her in the accounts office. He doesn't want her interacting with the customers, or handling the merchandise."
Jake gave him a considering look. "If you had another option besides working for Pasley, would you take it?"
"Are you offering me a position with the railroad?"
"No. I'm offering you a position with me." For the past three years, ever since David had died, Jake had been living frugally, and saving money for just this purpose—to spend money, hire others, or do whatever it took. So he had saved a a small fortune.
"You are? Doing what?"
"Spying. Working with me to expose Pasley for the crook that he is. You're going to be my eyes and my ears. I want you to find out when the next shipment is coming—the one they are going to rob."
"I want to help, too," Tanner announced. "After all, it's the least I can do since you paid off my debt."
"That's good. Can you come at a moment's notice?"
"Yes." Tanner's mouth split into a wide grin.
"All right, then. Until we hear back from you, Worley, we wait."
"Once we hear from Worley about a secret shipment coming in, then what?" Worley asked.
Jake gave them both a grim smile. "Then, we're going to pull the rug from underneath Pasley's shoes."
MAXINE CROUCHED LOWER behind the bushes to make sure Jake, Worley and Timmy didn't see her. Her mind still whirled, and her legs shook over what she'd heard.
When they'd come tromping through the forest, she'd been looking for the fox she'd cared for the day before. She hadn't found the fox. But she'd been in the perfect position to eavesdrop. Although, in a way, she almost wished she hadn't heard.
As it was, she'd collapsed to sit on the forest bed of pine needles because her legs had buckled from beneath her, she'd been so shocked over the conversation. If Jake would have come to her with the news of her uncle's perfidy, she might have scoffed in disbelief. But with the three of them talking about her uncle's dishonesty ... well, that made it much more difficult to dismiss.
Unbelievable. Her uncle, hiring Worley to not only be the foreman of the miner hat factory but to also be the bully toward miners who couldn't pay off their debts. Evidently Uncle Geary had removed her from the shop to not only hide his dishonesty from her, but to also hide his cruelty toward miners who didn't have the funds to pay off their debt. And he was derogatory to Worley. Add to that, he sabotaged inventory that was
not only sold at inflated prices but that was also inferior to begin with. She'd heard Sheriff Jones mention the thefts of the supply wagons headed for Calderon. To realize her uncle was behind the thievery was unconscionable, not to mention heart-breaking for her to realize.
How could she know so little of the man who'd raised her since she'd been orphaned at eight years old? Could she have been so blind as to his character for over sixteen years? That thought caused a sour taste to coat her tongue and for her to feel a weakness in her legs all over again.
Fool her once, shame on him. Fool her twice, shame on her.
She would be much more observant from now on. She would be proactive and discover the truth—all the truth—for herself. And the first place she would do was to contact Mr. Penham, her father's former partner at the magazine and ask him about the balance in her trust fund.
Next, she would examine the inventory. See for herself what was going on with it. Investigate Geisinger Manufacturing, the ones who used inferior metals to forge the shovels, pickaxes, hammers and other tools that miners needed. She would confer with the Blessings smithy to have him evaluate some of the broken pieces of metal that Timmy Tanner mentioned.
Eight months ago, Uncle Geary had taken her away from the shop. Now Florida Crow manned the cashier's box and handled the receipts. Maxine decided she would ask Florida for all receipts, and compare them to her account books. See if they matched. If she had to, she would confide in Florida, tell her of her suspicions.
And she would keep tabs on Jake to see what he discovered about her uncle. Follow him, if need be.
Because nobody would pull the wool over her eyes. Not any more.
Chapter Eight
Maxine was just passing the saloon on her way to Coco's Chapeaus when Roxanne staggered out through the swinging doors that partially blocked the threshold. Combined with her pale face and dazed-looking eyes, Maxine knew all was not well.
"Roxanne?" Maxine called out as she ran to support her friend before she fell on her face. "What's wrong?"
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