Shaking his head, he averted his gaze and approached the spot where his brothers kept watch. In order to pass time, Ham and Hud sat playing cards beneath the shade of a sycamore tree.
JP propped one arm against the rough bark of the tree. “How’s it going?”
Ham glanced up. “Not too bad.”
“Boring,” Hud grumbled, “that’s how. Most we’ve seen is a squirrel barking at us.”
JP grinned and knelt down, resting his elbows on one knee. “At least it’s a pleasant day. Be patient. Things are stirring in town. I suspect the crook’s nerves are tied in knots knowing the marshal is putting up at the Silver Slipper.” JP chuckled. “If I was the thief, it would make me nervous. I’d wonder if the law was on to me.”
Ham threw his cards down. “The culprit must be itching to retrieve his treasure.” He glanced at JP. “Especially when he heard the lawman doesn’t think the gold traveled very far from town.”
Hud discarded his cards as well. “The marshal did let it slip.” He trained his gaze on JP. “Didn’t he?”
“For sure.” At the sound of hooves pounding the packed earth, JP ducked and motioned for his brothers to do the same. “Men, pay attention. Someone’s coming. Can’t move the gold without a wagon, but maybe he’s nervous enough to see if his loot is still safe and sound.”
The three brothers hid and peered at the trail. The rhythm of a running horse vibrated the ground closer and closer until the animal came to an abrupt halt. When the rider stopped, JP stood to his feet. “It’s only the sheriff in a tearing hurry.”
Spotting the brothers, the sheriff swung to the ground. With his voice pitched low and vibrant, he said, “Rupert Landow is restless, sneaking ’round trying to hide, but he’s coming. And coming soon. No doubt in my mind. That is, if he’s the one responsible for the robbery.”
Ham took the reins from the sheriff. “Let me get this critter out of sight.” Over his shoulder he said, “Everything points to Landow.”
The sheriff nodded. “Sure does, but not necessarily the murder. I aim to keep you men company. If it’s him, he’s close behind me. We’ll wait, but spread out in the woods.”
~ ~ ~
The chilling breeze, stirred by the forward motion of the gig, blew against Elizabeth, adding to her misery. She couldn’t think, only watch the scenery speeding past, the harsh expression on Rupert’s face, and her world spinning out of control.
At the breakneck speed Rupert set, the gig swayed with each rut, joints groaning louder, wheels rattling, and the horses’ hooves pounding the earth in a steady rhythm for several miles.
At the next turn when he would be forced to slow down, she could jump, then run. Where? How could she avoid being recaptured? Escape seemed hopeless, but she would never give up. When the turnoff to the Clarke place grew close, she tightened her muscles for a chance to leap. At that moment, a wagon rolled into view.
The deputy tooled down the track and pulled his wagon to a stop in front of the gig. Of all the people on earth, she never once thought she’d be glad to see him. Hope twisted her stomach.
The deputy glared at Rupert. “Mighty fine seeing you, Mr. Landow. And where might you be going this fine morning?”
Rupert threw his head back, his lids narrowed. “That’s no concern of yours, deputy. What are you doing way out here, away from town and your duty? And in a wagon, I might add.”
A deadly silence followed, fraught with tension. The deputy avoided the banker’s eyes and glanced at Elizabeth. His voice turned mocking, nasty. “You got anything to say, little missy? A fine one you are, stepping out on your man.”
Her spirit sank. The deputy didn’t appear overly friendly or eager to help her. His attitude seemed hostile.
Before she could speak, Rupert raised his gun off the seat and pointed it at the deputy. “What do you have under the seat? It looks suspiciously like a bag of my gold.”
“It ain’t yours,” the deputy snapped. “It’s mine. My share.”
In the blink of an eye, Rupert pulled the trigger. Blood soaked the front of the deputy’s shirt, pooling around the badge he wore on his chest.
Elizabeth choked, her eyes wide, her pulse drumming in her ears.
A look of surprise spread over Chester’s face. “I knew you was the type to turn on me. I done got a bag of gold out of the pit. I wanted to see if you would notice.” With a death rattle, he wheezed his last breath and tumbled out of his seat.
Darkness whirled around her. She did her best to fight off the dim shadows trying to drag her down. She needed to stay alert in order to help JP in any way she could.
~ ~ ~
JP crawled over to the spot where Ham was concealed. “Did you hear a shot?”
Ham nodded. “Could be a hunter. I hope he doesn’t mess up this little deal. The sheriff will be mighty ticked if he does.”
Farther down the way, Hud cautiously stuck his head up. JP gave him a thumbs-up, letting him know the shot had been heard. “It might be Rupert. But why would he shoot? It doesn’t make sense.” JP took his place again and faded into the edge of the forest.
Wheels rolling over the rutted track rattled. With each dip in the lane, the joints of the gig creaked louder and louder until the shiny black buggy pulled to a stop in front of the blackened shell.
JP’s heart leapt in his chest at the sight of Rupert dragging Elizabeth out of the gig. What the devil? This wasn’t supposed to happen. His wife in danger changed everything. He clenched his fists. She was his first priority, not the gold.
In a singsong voice, Rupert called, “Come out. Come out wherever you are, friend Joseph. I’ve got your woman. I don’t aim to let her go until I have my gold. Fair exchange, her for the gold.”
The urge to grab the bastard by the throat and squeeze the life out of him caused a red mist to envelope JP. The scheme to catch a crook had placed Elizabeth in danger, unacceptable. JP couldn’t forgive himself for that piece of carelessness. Needing all his wits about him, he forced his fury down.
“I know that marshal fella is hold up in town.” Rupert chuckled. “Waiting for you to send for him. He thinks I don’t know he’s there, taking me for a fool. He’s the fool. Some menace,” Rupert scoffed.
JP cautiously peered through the trees to the top of the rise. Rupert had Elizabeth in front of him—the coward, hiding behind a woman’s skirts. JP clenched his jaw, his fists working fast, open, close, open, close. His brothers always said he could out menace the devil. Here was his chance to try.
He climbed the rise until he could view Rupert close up. The banker could see him too, stiff, with every muscle tightened for action. JP ducked his head allowing his hat brim to cover the deadly look deep within his eyes. Deliberately, he lifted his chin until Rupert could witness the full force of his fury, wild, dangerous as a stick of dynamite on a short fuse, ready to explode.
“You rotten, stinking, polecat. You’re a coward using a woman to hide behind.”
Rupert blinked and took a quick step back, dragging Elizabeth with him. “Not any woman. Your woman and a fine piece she is, but are you willing to give me my gold for her?”
“It’s not your gold. It belongs to the government.”
Rupert chortled, deep and long, his voice ringing with bitterness. “The government, ha. Why, the guards delivered the gold straight into my hands. Very obliging of them.”
JP needed to keep him talking, involved, off balance, his attention anywhere except on Elizabeth. “Why do you think I might have the gold?”
Rupert sneered, his tone mocking, and said, “Because you found where I hid the bags. That smug expression Ham’s been wearing round town told me you and yours found my hiding place.” Rupert waved his gun toward JP. “If you want Elizabeth to live, you’d better let your brothers know not to try anything. I killed the depu
ty so one more won’t matter.” After a split second, he added, “Better yet, call them out here where I can keep an eye on them.”
“You men don’t cause a runaway,” JP called behind him, furious, his anger deadly. Gauging the distance it would take to reach Rupert, JP motioned for his brothers to flank him. “Come on out.”
Facing three steely-eyed men determined to thwart him should shake Rupert’s nerve. JP’s resolve hardened. As the last resort, he’d draw Rupert’s fire while his brothers snatched Elizabeth out of the banker’s clutches. The sheriff was the wild card. Rupert hadn’t a clue the sheriff waited hidden in the woods.
“The time for jawin’ is up. Get the gold.” Rupert hauled Elizabeth closer to his chest with a nervous twitch of his gun hand.
“Just one question. How did you locate the latch to the trap door?” JP needed to keep Rupert talking.
“The timbers over the entrance. Some of the ends were burned away. When I discovered the hole, I pried it opened. Clever, don’t you think?” Where was the blasted sheriff? JP caught his breath. At that moment, he viewed the ranger, sleek, deadly, and silent, stepping out of the edge of the woods advancing on the culprit.
When had Ace arrived? It didn’t matter. JP was grateful for the sight of him in action, a predator, capable of the kill. A distraction, JP needed to distract the banker. He turned slightly as if doing what Rupert demanded before swinging back around.
“Another question first. Did you kill Franklin?”
“Me?” Rupert slapped the gun against his chest. “That’s absurd. The little worm, trying to bring me down. I could have snuffed him out any time, but I didn’t do the foul deed. I was on the train coming back to this lovely town. Remember?” He laughed. “Chester thought your woman did it. That’s a hoot, but maybe she did. Who knows?”
The ranger placed the barrel of his gun against the back of Rupert’s head. “Give over, Mr. Landow. Take your hands off the little lady and stick ‘em in the air.” Ace relieved Rupert of his pistol stuffing the weapon in his own belt. “Much better.”
The moment Rupert loosened his grip Elizabeth raced to JP and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank God!”
JP gathered her to his chest while his frame shook with emotion. He couldn’t hold her close enough, but he could breathe again. His chest expanded with a deep breath drawing in her fragrance, rain-washed roses, the soft essence of Elizabeth, his woman, his treasure. Kissing her long and deep with possessive hunger, he stroked her hair, his hand on the back of her head, protective now he had her safe. He could have so easily lost her.
The sheriff pounded across the field and tied Rupert’s hands behind his back. “Don’t you know a ranger always gets his man? A good thing you didn’t know he was a Texas Ranger.” Over his shoulder, he addressed Ace, “I’m glad you showed up.”
Ace, grim-faced, said, “I trailed the deputy from town. He was acting suspicious, slinking around and hitching up a wagon. I watched him put a bag of government gold under the seat. He must have been in on the robbery from the first.” Ace shoved Landow. “I reckon the banker intended to blame the whole thing on him. He killed the deputy a ways back. It’s easier to blame a dead man than a live, talking one.”
Even with his hands cuffed behind his back, Rupert stiffened, his face mottled with rage. “I killed him because he was stealing my gold.”
The sheriff shook his head. “What a gol-dang mess. Greed. It’s a terrible thing. Some folks let it drive ‘em insane.” He turned to JP. “Will your men guard the gold until I turn this crook over to the marshal?”
JP grinned. “My brothers will be delighted to stay until you come back to collect the gold. Won’t you, boys?”
With a disgruntled expression, both brothers nodded.
The sheriff cocked his head to the side. “Thank you. Thank you kindly.” Loading his prisoner into his wagon with Ace riding shotgun, the sheriff drove away. There was no hope of escape for the villain.
With one arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders, JP said, “Let’s go home. It’s over.”
She snuggled against him. “I was so afraid. I thought I’d never see you again.”
“It was a mite scary, but you’re not going to lose me.”
Walking toward his horse, step matching step, Elizabeth glanced up at him. “Why would Rupert destroy his own bank, his life, and his sister, why?”
“According to Franklin’s ledger, Rupert dipped into the till at his bank to cover some bad investments. After taking a step down the wrong path, he sank deeper and deeper.”
Fascinated by the coil of dark hair trembling against her cheek, JP twisted the curl around his finger and kissed her cheek. That small gesture was all he could manage until he had her safe at home.
With a deep sigh, she whispered in his ear, “I’m finally free of the murder charge.”
JP looked down at her, and a chill washed over him, but he gave her a reassuring squeeze.
Chapter 33
Elizabeth’s nerves danced down her spine, spun around in her stomach, and gripped her chest. The sheriff should arrive any minute armed with all of the deputy’s false claims and excuses for failing to bring the real killer to justice.
He had sent word of his intentions to question her about Franklin’s murder. It sounded so polite, not nearly as harsh as interrogation. She fisted her hands for a moment. Why had she been the one to find his body?
She clutched her hands together and moved toward JP’s office. Hesitating in the doorway, she viewed JP with his hands clasped behind his back staring out the window. A quick shaft of sunlight stroked his profile, his dark brows, straight nose, and the curve of his full lips.
She’d made a silent approach, her shoes soft crossing the floor, and the rustle of her skirts hushed by her hands. Still, somehow aware of her presence, he directed his gaze away from the pearl-gray clouds drifting across the morning sky to her. JP, her husband, her tower of strength, and the love of her life—how lucky she was to have him to rely on in these troubling times.
He whisked around and held out his arms. “It will be all right. The sheriff knows Chester’s limitations as a lawman.”
Gathering her into his embrace, he kissed her, not a kiss of passion, but of comfort and reassurance. She leaned into him thankful for his presence.
“I have the evidence we collected.” He removed his arms from around her and picked up a box. With his expression calm, he said, “Here’s everything Chester missed. We’ll spread all the items on the table so we can view every article with the sheriff.”
“Let’s clear the clutter off your desk.” Elizabeth started removing stacks of papers. “All the evidence can be displayed in the middle with chairs all around.”
“Sounds reasonable.” He sat the box down. Evidence from the crime scene, and items collected from Franklin’s room made a substantial heap. JP added the blue ledger to the pile, and lastly placed the name badge on the stack.
Elizabeth moved closer to the edge of the desk and reached for the badge with one hand, her other one going to her throat. She darted a glance at him, holding his gaze for long minutes. “This is the badge we found at the crime scene, isn’t it?”
“Of course.” The piercing gleam in his eyes questioned the alarm in hers.
She dropped her voice nearly to a whisper, sinking back in the closest chair. “This didn’t belong to Franklin.”
JP straightened and raised his brows. “What are you saying?”
Before she could answer, Ham entered the office with the sheriff and Hud at his heels. All three men wore a grave expression, silent and seemingly introspective, the brothers hostile to the other man. The sheriff removed his hat, nodding to Elizabeth and JP.
Hud stepped forward, his voice harsh with a ring of irritation. “The sheriff is here to question Elizabeth, like she’s some
low-life killer. We had enough of that with Chester.”
Ben cleared his throat and glared at Hud. “I don’t aim to treat her like a criminal. I just want to listen to her account of finding Franklin Plunkett’s body.” He glanced at the others. “That’s reasonable.”
JP circled around the desk and sat with one hip on the corner, a warning of sorts, an added barrier between the sheriff and his wife. “Take a seat, please. Ham, you and Hud can stay, but butt out.”
He waited while the men selected a chair and gathered in front of his desk. Giving his brothers a final hard stare, he skirted around his desk and sank down beside Elizabeth. He settled back, poised, confident, with his elbows resting on the arms of his chair. “Let’s all relax while my wife tells the sheriff what she knows.”
Elizabeth cleared her throat, clasped her hands in her lap before relating the incident, every memory sharp, and still daunting. She could even recall the smell of death, the buzzards circling in the sky above. Leaving nothing out, she finished and sent a direct stare at the sheriff.
“That’s all I remember about the actual scene. I recall the odor of your jail cell too. And the horror of being locked in with a big, ugly rat.” She shivered.
“Well, little lady, it sounds like my deputy jumped the gun. Because you found the body doesn’t hold you accountable for the actual deed.”
Elizabeth grimaced and ducked her head for a moment. “To be fair, it wasn’t only finding Franklin. The deputy knew I carry a pistol, small, but deadly close up, the kind that killed Franklin.”
The sheriff raised his brows. “A derringer was the murder weapon. Mort dug it out of the victim. He knew I would want it for evidence. It don’t mean it was your pistol.”
Bittersweep Page 25
