The sheriff was just coming out of his office with a cup of coffee when she arrived.
“Sir, I’d like to report a missing person.”
“Who is missing?”
“His name is Winn Harris.” She realized that she still didn’t know where he lived. “He was on the train with me yesterday when it hit the camel. He didn’t come back with the rest of us. He hit his head pretty hard and wandered off. I can show you—”
Someone cleared his throat, and the sheriff stepped back to allow him to pass.
“Wilhelmina.” Winn tipped his hat as he walked past.
Billie stopped mid-sentence. She leaned around the sheriff to see Winn turn down the alley. What? How did—?
“That the Winn who’s missing?” asked the sheriff. He cocked his head. “Listen, miss. I’d stay away from Winn Harris if I were you. He’s trouble. A kid that young and already the most popular Faro dealer in town? Not anyone I’d want my daughter involved with.”
The sheriff raised his coffee in dismissal.
Billie’s mouth went dry as she stared at the entrance to the alley.
How could he? He was back in town looking perfectly fine. And a Faro dealer? She shook her head. “Thank you, sir.”
Was it all a trick? Was he that mean, to hide on her and make her think he was in trouble?
Disappointed. Heartbroken. He didn’t seem the type to toy with a girl like that. He was so concerned about those little boys gambling, yet he was gambling himself.
She blinked the moisture out of her eyes and took a deep breath before marching down the alley. All the worry that she’d done the wrong thing and left him hurt and alone, and it was business as usual for him. Not even a bruise on his forehead. She’d get her answers, then never speak to him again. The sheriff was right. Winn Harris was trouble.
And he knew it. He was waiting for her at the side of the sheriff’s office, heel kicked back against the wall.
Before he could give her some false story about what happened, she lit into him. “How dare you! I was so worried. Did you have to muffle your mouth, so I wouldn’t hear your laughter as you hid and I called and called your name? Was that gentleman who helped me in on it? How many people did you pull in on the joke? Everyone pretended you were never there. Was it a bet? Were you feeding your gambling habit?”
“Finished?” He raised his left eyebrow.
“I was worried about you! I was actually starting to believe your story that some weird force was at work, but now I know it’s just you. Bored? Is that what you are? Go play with some other girl’s affections.”
He adjusted his stance, as if realizing the change in her. “I didn’t lie to you,” he said.
“Then explain yourself.”
He looked away. “I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.” She started to leave, and he reached for her arm. She brushed it off. “Stay away from me.”
“It’s not what you think,” he said.
Fuming, she marched back to the hotel to meet Uncle Dale for breakfast. Winn wanted her gone? Fine. She’d find the mirror and then she and her uncle would leave this town. Good riddance.
“What’s wrong?” Uncle Dale asked.
Billie looked up from her oatmeal. “Nothing.” She’d been humiliated by a con man and then let it slip she had feelings for him. How could she have let her guard down?
“You’ve been building oatmeal mountains and then crushing them back down again while I’ve eaten my entire breakfast.” He indicated his empty plate, egg yolk in pale yellow stripes where he’d swiped his toast to mop it up. “You said in your note you were running an errand. Didn’t pan out?”
She shrugged.
“Did you hear the train to Douglas hit a camel last night?”
Billie dropped her spoon and it clattered against the side of the bowl.
“Fine.” He held up his hands in resignation. “No small talk. Let’s review where we are with the item.”
Billie didn’t care that much about the item right now. Gamblers were liars. They said what you wanted to hear to keep you drawn in, but it was never the whole truth. It was only a game of manipulation. Winn had maneuvered his way into her affections, for what reason, she’d never know because he’d never get close to her again.
Snap. Snap. Uncle snapped his fingers in front of Billie’s face. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Sorry, what?”
“I didn’t find the item, but I did find another locked door. Why would she have a second locked door in her mine?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sure, you do. There’s something back there she doesn’t want anyone to find.”
“So, what do you want me to do? Invite her to another play? That didn’t end well.” Billie pictured her cousin stalking angrily off into the night. Billie still wasn’t sure what made her so mad. Who cared that Matron gave them the tickets? Billie had only accepted tickets to a play, not agreed to rob the bank. Whatever the reason, Lou was overreacting.
“You don’t know the half of what went on that night. Lou twisted her ankle coming back from the play,” Uncle Dale said.
Oh, no. Coals heaped upon Billie’s head. Lou had been so mad when she walked away that night she probably wasn’t paying attention to the trail. Something else that was Billie’s fault.
“I found the old gal on my way back to town. She was doing her best to hobble home, but it was a struggle for her. I didn’t want her to know I was out that way, but I couldn’t not help her.”
“I should hope not.”
“So, I came to her rescue. Helped her get settled. I’m sure she’s suspicious over what I was doing on that trail that time of night. Nothing I can do about that now. You would think she’d be grateful I came along when I did.”
Billie nodded. Of course, Lou was grateful.
“But now there’s trouble. Since she’s injured, she’s camped out in that shack practically lying in front of her mine. There’s no way I’ll get into her mine that way again. So, change of plan. Can you hold out on Boston a little longer? This one might take a while. And some money.”
“Mine or yours?” Always more money.
“The company’s. I just need you on board in case someone at the office questions our purchase.”
Now he had her full attention. “What are we buying?”
He chuckled. “The claims beside Cousin Lou’s. Hers wasn’t the only one up for abandonment.”
“And why would we do this?”
“There is more than one way to skin a cat. If Lou won’t let us have her mine in a way that benefits the both of us, we might have a legal way onto the property that won’t require her permission.”
“I don’t like the sound of this. What are you going to do?” Billie ate a bite of oatmeal. She was going to need some fortification.
“Nothing illegal. Did some scouting when we were up there and found some weathered cerussite. It looks like any other red rock, but it’s heavier. When you find it inside the mountain it’s a whitish or gray color. Finding oxidized cerussite tells me there could be silver below. I have a hope that there’s a small vein on that property that crosses over into hers.”
Billie nodded slowly. “The Law of Apex.”
Uncle did a double take. “Where did you learn that?”
“And the vein can’t just cross over, it has to be closer to the surface than hers. It has to start on our property and then travel into hers. I read it in one of Lou’s books. I’m sure she knows about it, too.”
Finding a crossing vein by accident was one thing, but purposefully going out and finding a vein so you could blast into your neighbor’s mine? That was underhanded. Was she falling under the wrong influences? First Uncle Dale and then Winn. Mother always warned her to be careful of the company she kept.
Uncle shrugged. “Then she won’t make a fuss when I find it. By the way, I sent a telegram to your mother hinting at what we were looking for. I just wanted to give her some hope.�
�
“You told her we were looking for a magic mirror?”
“Of course not. Someone will read the telegram to her so that would never do. The fewer people who know about the mirror the better. I spoke in generalities, calling her Snow White. She’ll understand, but others would read it as a term of endearment.”
“I’ve never heard you call her Snow White.”
He took a swig of coffee. “Never have, but I’m referencing your family stories. She’ll catch on.”
Billie shook her head. Why in the world would anyone make the inference that they were looking for a magic mirror to help save them. No matter. They’d take care of it and then be home in time for the fall session where her life could go back to some semblance of normal. “What do you need me to do?”
“Keep Lou occupied as best as you can. If she’s busy she won’t pay as much attention to what I’m doing.”
“How am I to keep her occupied if she’s injured? She won’t be able to walk to town.”
“No, that’s why I offered for you to stay with her as nurse. She loved the idea.”
Billie choked down her oatmeal. She wasn’t sure Lou loved anything. Except her mama’s rug.
“I can’t stay in that shack.” Even if what Winn said wasn’t true, the place still unnerved her.
“Only until I find the vein. Once my plan is in motion, she won’t be able to stop it.”
Chapter 22
“Lou?” Billie called out when she got close to the miner’s shack so as not to startle her cousin.
Up here, Lou must not get many visitors. Billie looked around. Make that no visitors. She thought about what Winn said about this place. There had to be a plausible explanation as to why he thought this was the epicenter of all his troubles. Unless that was all part of his con.
She knocked.
“Go away,” Lou said. Her voice sounded more gruff than usual. “I told that fool uncle of yours I didn’t need any help.”
“I brought food. Baked goods fresh from the City Bakery.”
Silence.
Billie took that as an invitation. She put on a smile and entered the cabin. The room was dim with all the curtains pulled shut. Why did Lou insist on living in the dark? It was depressing.
“You look good,” Billie said.
Lou was sitting up on the bed, which had been moved away from the wall and close to the kitchen and front door. Or, from Uncle’s perspective, blocking the door to Lou’s mine. Her foot was propped up on a stack of quilts Billie hadn’t seen before, and a bed tray had materialized. None of those items had been in the shack when Billie had conducted her housekeeping search. She wondered if Lou kept a secret stash somewhere, or if Uncle had brought her those things in an attempt to sweeten her up.
“I see someone has been taking care of you,” Billie said. She deposited the bag of groceries on the counter and began to unload them. She’d been overzealous in her purchases, making for a difficult climb. Canned goods seemed to work best out here where the produce was scarce and, if you could get it, expensive. But gracious, cans were heavy to pack up a hill.
“That uncle of yours! Never been so manhandled in my life.” Lou adjusted herself, grimacing when her foot moved. “That man is slicker than a snake in a rainstorm.”
Billie rushed over. “Let me help you.”
Lou brushed her off. “I’m good. And grateful for the food, but there’s no need to stick around feeling sorry for me. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to keep you busy in town.”
Instead of leaving, Billie pulled up the rocking chair so she could sit and have a visit. “I’m here for a few days just to make sure you don’t re-injure yourself. I can read to you if you’d like.” Billie thumbed through the books and magazines on the side table. Another piece of furniture Billie hadn’t noticed before.
“The Hound of the Baskervilles? I heard this one is good.” She picked it up. “Oh, it’s a library copy. Must be popular. I saw Wi—someone else reading a copy.”
“Not my first choice, but go ahead, if you feel like you must entertain me.”
“You’re the one who took it out of the library, but if you want me to read something else, I can.” She reluctantly put it down. It would be nice to know what Winn was reading. It would be like a peek inside his head. Reading the same words that he had read. Sharing the same thoughts. It might help her figure him out. Not that she cared anymore.
She sorted through the other books. “I could read this report on modern drilling methods.” It would put both of us to sleep.
“Read the novel. I should learn what the young people are reading nowadays. But mind you, skedaddle back to town before it gets dark.”
“Great.” Billie cleared her throat and then began. “Chapter one. Mr. Sherlock Holmes.” She brought the book closer to her eyes. “May I open the curtains? I need more light to read,” Billie said.
“Hurry up and get yourself settled, girl. At this rate, my ankle will be healed by the time you get to the second chapter.”
Billie flung open the kitchen curtains, taking a moment to get herself a glass of water. When she went to open the curtains covering the second window, Lou stopped her.
“Leave those. It’ll be too bright.”
Billie sat back down. “I suppose I have enough light to read by.” She was disappointed as that window was so much prettier than the plain old square window, but Lou always kept it curtained. Why hide all the beauty in one’s life?
She began to read. “Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table.”
Billie read throughout the afternoon, stopping for meals and to help Lou get to the privy and back. She read until Lou had fallen asleep. That report on modern mining methods had done the trick. Someone should turn it into a bedtime story for children. They’d be asleep in seconds.
Billie tiptoed to the second window and opened the curtains. It was almost sunset. She had better make a quick trip to the privy herself before it was dark. Lou won’t be too upset to wake up to see me still at her place, will she? Not if the smell of fresh biscuits did the waking.
As Billie ran around back she was reminded of her vow to never use this outhouse again. Yet, here she was, back in the dilapidated building wondering if it was going to fall down around her. Death in an outhouse. A terrible way to go. Uncle Dale owed her so much after this. He had better take her side on any future decision she wanted to make.
Hearing Lou call out, she yelled back. “I’ll be right there.” She quickly fussed with her clothing, not wanting to spend a second more than she needed to out there with the Sears catalog. The Sears catalog for crying out loud!
When she returned, Lou was sleeping, but a vase with a cluster of deep pink, bell-shaped flowers had been left by her bedside. Billie swung around the room. “Hello? Is someone here?” She popped outside and scanned the hills for movement, but it was too dark to see very far. “Hello? Thank you for the flowers.”
Billie smiled. Looks like Lou has a beau. If he’s come a-calling, maybe he would be sufficient distraction for Lou, and then Billie could move back into town.
As she lit the lantern she decided the man might need some courting tips, though. It seemed his flowers were snipped off of someone’s shrubs. A fragrant rose or a bunch of carnations might be more appropriate.
Billie resumed her rocking, but she could no longer look out the window. Instead, the glass window reflected back a wide-eyed girl with uncharacteristic messy hair and dirt smudged on her cheek. If she weren’t so frustrated with the recent turn of events, she would have laughed at herself.
Who was she becoming? What was she doing helping her uncle try to invade her cousin’s small claim, all in the hopes that she was hiding a magic mirror from the Snow White fairy tale? Her rivals back home would have a grand time gossiping about how low Billie had gotten.
As Billie examined her reflection, the surface of the win
dow shimmered. It so startled her that she froze, and the hair on the back of her neck rose. Another storm must be on its way, charging the air with electricity again. She stood and tried to peer out the window looking for lightning.
Seeing nothing, she pulled the curtains for the night and prayed the little shack would survive the coming storm.
Chapter 23
Billie stood over her makeshift bed with her hands on her hips. It wasn’t the worst place she’d ever slept—sleeping outside took that prize.
A tingle of alarm skittered across her neck. She glanced over at the cot expecting to see Lou awake and ready to grouse about something, but her cousin was snoring softly, a sliver of moonlight falling on her face from a gap in the curtains.
That won’t do. The last thing Billie needed was for Lou to wake at the crack of dawn with the sunlight in her eyes.
Billie moved to shut the gap and as she reached for the curtains, every nerve in her body started firing, warning her that something was wrong. Was the feeling for real, or was she simply overly sensitive because of Winn’s warnings to stay away from the shack?
Heart racing, Billie fought against her instincts to freeze where she was standing, but when she reached out to close the curtains, she saw her faint reflection in the window with another face appearing ghostly with hers.
She snapped the curtains together, certain it had been a man outside.
She considered waking Lou, but what could her cousin do to help with a bad ankle? Billie’s fright was silly. The man could simply be Lou’s mysterious beau, the one who left the flowers. Maybe he had shied away earlier but worked up the courage to talk to her now.
Billie would have to tell him to come back later. She only opened the door wide enough to call out. “Lou’s asleep. Come back tomorrow.”
Silence.
She closed the door tight and noticed there was no lock. Adrenaline flowed through her veins. She opened the curtain again, and the man was still there. Not a man close to Lou’s age, but a young man. It was too faint to fully make out his features.
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