by Carol Finch
“What’s the other part that disturbs you?” Coop prodded.
“I think Miss Quinn is trying to keep the peace between Webster and her friend’s father,” he elaborated. “But I’m afraid it will land her in trouble because of her engagement to Webster.”
Coop didn’t doubt it for a minute. “Do you want me to keep track of her unofficially?”
“That might be a good idea,” Gil replied.
Coop sipped a second drink and chatted with Gil for nearly an hour before he hobbled outside to note that Questa Springs had more or less shut down for the night. Of course, tinkling piano music from the dance halls and saloons still competed with each other. Laughter and loud voices drifted from the doorways, but no one stumbled around in the streets, shooting out the lamplights.
Coop paused to glance at the hotel window, noting the lantern was still burning in Alexa’s room. He decided to retire to his own quarters so he could remove the annoying split. He wanted to conclude this case, if only to toss out the damn prop Alexa had devised for him.
When he noticed Webster’s horse tied to the hitching post in front of the mercantile store, his gaze drifted toward Lily’s Pleasure Resort. His best guess was that Webster was celebrating his recent betrothal by tumbling around on the sheets with his favorite concubine.
“Anyone who doesn’t take an engagement to Alexa seriously deserves to be shot,” Coop muttered as he limped across the street to Walker Hotel. “I’d gladly mete out the punishment.”
Come to think of it, he could resolve several problems if he had a legitimate excuse to drop that conniving scoundrel in his tracks.
A fleeting thought crossed Coop’s mind and prompted him to wheel toward the street that faced the town square. Just to be on the safe side he wanted to check Hampton, Barrett and Figgins Dry Goods Store to make sure Elliot hadn’t discharged his henchman to start a fire while he had his alibi set with his paramour.
Considering the comment Coop had heard Webster make at the line shack recently, retaliation was inevitable because he was the kind of man who wouldn’t be satisfied until he avenged whatever injustice he thought had befallen him. If Webster did try to burn out his competition, emotions would be flying high and all hell would break loose in this quaint mountain haven.
Alexa squinted in the dim light, trying to decipher Elliot’s scrawling handwriting. She did note from the tallies, however, that his business had dropped off considerably the past three years. Which was probably why he was so desperate to acquire the government contract to pay his business expenses and land a wealthy wife.
She held the ledger up to the light from the window when she saw a documentation of payment to Norville Thomas. She frowned, bemused, when the following entries listed quartermaster supplies from the territorial commissary.
A moment later, her eyes flew wide-open. It finally dawned on her why Norville Thomas’s silhouette seemed familiar yet all wrong. Her thoughts circled back to the shiny boots Lieutenant Arnold Gunther had worn when she met him recently. That’s what had puzzled her about Thomas. When she spotted him at the line shack, he’d been wearing a homespun jacket and breeches with shiny boots that seemed out of place. His stature and physique reminded her of the man she’d met at a function her father hosted the previous year in Albuquerque.
“Curse it!” Alexa muttered when the images floating around in her mind suddenly fell into place. She remembered seeing the unidentified man in military uniform who had spoken to Elliot on the street after he left their party. It must have been Norville Thomas making contact with his cohort, she deduced.
At the time of the party Alexa had been fretting over the possibility of Elliot asking her father for permission to court her. She hadn’t seen the significance of the connection between Elliot and Norville Thomas. No doubt, Thomas was running information from Questa Springs to Albuquerque and then to Santa Fe. More than likely, Thomas was a quartermaster who used the excuse of taking military business trips to purchase supplies for the forts and reservations. But he was serving his own greedy purposes.
That snake! The side business he’d mentioned was probably the selling of military issued supplies to civilians for a profit and delivering substandard goods to the Indian tribes on reservations. More than once Alexa had heard her father complain about the illegal practice. Cheating soldiers and reservation Indians was his pet peeve and he tried to put a stop to it. Her father would be pleased if she sniffed out another culprit.
Excitement bubbled inside her as she turned the page to note entry after entry that included Thomas’s name. He was obviously a supplier and messenger. But who was passing information through this grapevine that included Webster and Thomas?
Determined to uncover the Judas on her father’s staff, she tucked the ledger under her arm and crawled across the floor to the window, hoping for better lighting. Hurriedly she reopened the book and scanned the pages.
She recalled a comment that Gil Henson had made recently about the tainted flowers of ill repute. She frowned as the conversation rolled through her mind. Then suddenly the information that had been churning around in her head leaped out at her with vivid clarity. She’d been searching for the connection that tied Questa Springs to Santa Fe. Now here it was, plain as day—
Her thoughts scattered like buckshot and panic spurted through her when she heard lumbering footsteps echoing through the hall. Oscar Denton was making his rounds and she was sitting in plain sight. Her wild-eyed gaze flew to the walnut desk. Alexa clamped the ledger against her chest and scrambled awkwardly across the floor on one arm and two knees, hoping to take cover under the desk without making noise. Her heart hammered in her chest when she realized how close the footsteps were to the open doorway. Her chances of hiding under the desk before Denton spotted her were too close to call. Alexa prayed for all she was worth…all the way across the room.
Coop cursed mightily when he spotted three men slinking around in the darkness behind the mercantile shop owned by Webster’s business competitors. He saw smoke billowing from the back door of the shop.
The three men dashed off in separate directions. Coop drew his pistol and fired thrice. He dropped one man in his tracks and speculated that he’d managed to wing the other two. He sincerely hoped Oscar Denton was sprawled in the door so Coop could link him directly to Webster. Coop scowled as he watched the other two wounded men disappear into the darkness before he could identify or capture them.
Raising his pistol in the air, Coop fired off two more shots, hoping to sound an alarm that would summon volunteer firefighters. Then he swooped down to grab the fallen arsonist by the scruff of his shirt. Although it wasn’t Denton, Coop dragged his prisoner around to the front of the store. When the injured man tried to scramble to his feet and attempt escape Coop flipped over his pistol and used the butt end to knock his captive senseless.
The smell of smoke permeated the cool evening air and the glow of flames speared the darkness. Shadowed silhouettes dashed across the town square. Men toting buckets to fill at the spring gathered rapidly. Coop heard men shouting orders to one another as the bucket brigade rushed across the street to attempt to douse the flames.
“Go around to the back where the fire started!” Coop yelled over the loud commotion.
Within minutes, the citizens had formed a line to refill buckets. Several wagons filled with barrels arrived to transport larger quantities of water to the fire.
Coop kept expecting Alexa to show up to see what was going on. She was never very far from the scene of a crisis. She always arrived to lend a helping hand. So where was she now?
When Miguel didn’t show up, either, Coop wondered if the twosome were keeping surveillance at Hampton Ranch. Either that or Alexa had talked her devoted bodyguard into accompanying her to Webster’s ranch to have another look at the ledgers she was so anxious to get her hands on.
Coop wanted to track her down but he couldn’t leave until he turned his prisoner over to Gil. For now, he could only hope tha
t Miguel was nearby to protect Alexa from harm.
A foul curse burst from Coop’s lips when he looked through the pane glass window to see that the fire had spread from the storage area and back office to the front of the store. Thick smoke billowed from the roof and flames leaped skyward, threatening to endanger nearby buildings.
The instant Coop saw Gil jogging toward the store he waved in expansive gestures. “Throw me the cuffs,” he called loudly. “This is one of the three men who set the fire.”
Gil launched the metal shackles through the air. Coop hurriedly secured the downed man’s wrists around the hitching post in front of the courthouse.
Gil huffed and puffed, trying to catch his breath while he stared at the smoke and flames. “Damnation.”
“And then some,” Coop muttered. “I recognize this man as one of Webster’s hired hands. The other two are long gone and I couldn’t get a clear look at them or their horses.”
“The son of a bitch decided to lessen his business competition, I reckon,” Gil grumbled as Coop took him aside to speak confidentially.
“Webster mentioned this possibility to me after his clash with Hampton at the ranch. This might be a smoke screen for another rustling accusation,” Coop speculated. “I expect Webster will have an easier time of showing you the cattle he planted in his neighbor’s herd.”
Gil frowned, confused. “How do you know so much about what Webster is doing?”
“Because I was hired to investigate his activities,” Coop confided. He needed Gil’s invaluable assistance because the situation had become widespread in its complexity. “By the way, you’re right about Alexa Quinn. She isn’t what she seems. She and I are working together to gather information about Webster’s illegal business practices.”
Gil staggered back a pace. His eyes nearly popped from their sockets. “You and Miss Quinn?” he croaked, incredulous.
Coop nodded briskly then made a stabbing gesture toward the billowing smoke. He hoped to divert Gil’s attention since he looked as if he meant to pose more questions about Coop’s unexpected association with Alexa. “Webster is probably tripping the light fantastic with Lily and using it for his alibi. Bring him down here so he will know that one of his hired henchmen will survive the gunshot wound to connect him to this conspiracy.”
Gil glanced at the downed man. He frowned when he noticed the bloodstains on the leg of the prisoner’s breeches.
“Don’t worry about him. I’ll fetch the doctor. Call your deputy over here to make sure no one assassinates him to keep him silent.”
Gil whistled loudly. The deputy, who had joined the ranks of firefighters, came running to take charge of the prisoner. Coop hurried off to find the physician and scowled when the splint slowed him up. When he reached the physician’s home, the older man was staring out the door toward the town square. His gray hair was standing on end, as if he’d been awakened from a sound sleep.
“I wounded one of the arsonists when he tried to escape,” Coop explained. “Can you tend him? He’s shackled to the hitching post across from the burning mercantile building.”
“Too bad it couldn’t have been Webster’s store,” the doctor grumbled. “He charges two arms and a leg for his supplies.”
The doctor reversed direction to grab his bag and Coop plunked down on the nearest bench to roll up his pant leg. Quickly he untied the straps and removed the hindering splints.
This is the end of the charade, he decided. Webster had retaliated and now evidence was stacking up against him. No need for Coop to keep up pretense. He was taking charge of this case and he didn’t care who knew it.
Before the physician ventured back outside Coop jogged to the town square. There was still no sign of Alexa and Miguel. That made him extremely nervous. If indeed Webster was launching an attack on two fronts simultaneously—in attempt to ruin Percy Hampton by accusing him of rustling and destroying the store—Alexa might be caught in the fracas again. If bullets started flying, he wanted her out of the line of fire. The thought of her being injured…or worse…un-hinged him.
Lurching around, Coop dashed to the hotel. He had the uneasy feeling that the lantern light flickering in Alexa’s room was a ruse and she wasn’t there. Damn it, he should have checked on her earlier that evening. He hoped Miguel was with her, at least. Maybe he could prevent her from thrusting herself into harm’s way until Coop showed up to offer reinforcement.
Miguel grabbed hold of the reins to Kate’s horse when she swore aloud and tried to thunder away. “This is not the time to expose our hiding place in the bushes,” he muttered at her.
“I have to stop them,” Kate said angrily. “Those hired guns are driving Webster’s cattle toward our pasture. You know what will happen next. Webster will show up with the marshal in tow to accuse my father of stealing. The feud will erupt again. I have to—”
Miguel leaned out to clamp his hand over the lower portion of Kate’s face. “You have to stay here and keep quiet. If you startle those gunmen they’ll shoot first and ask questions later,” he said grimly. “You won’t do your father any good if you’re dead.”
Much to his relief, Kate settled her ruffled feathers. “I suppose not,” she whispered begrudgingly. “But I guarantee that I’m cutting those rebranded calves from our herd as soon as those men clear out of here.”
Miguel noted—and not for the first time—how much alike Alexa and Kate were. Both women were spirited, headstrong and feisty. No wonder they had become best friends at boarding school.
His thoughts trailed off when the smell of smoke drifted toward him. He twisted in the saddle to see a black cloud and glowing flames rising to the south. Icy dread froze in his veins when he recalled what Coop had told him while they were stashing the planted cattle out of sight in a nearby canyon after the first rustling accusation. Webster stated he wanted to destroy his competition by starting a fire, but Coop had discouraged him—but not for long. Webster’s plan was in motion.
“Dear God, now what?” Kate grumbled when she noticed the flames.
“I need to ride back to town,” he said quickly. “I’m afraid your father’s store might be on fire.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No, you aren’t.”
Miguel scowled when Kate took off without him. He glanced back at the four men who were driving the cattle toward Hampton’s pasture gate. He needed to be two places at once. If he allowed Kate to go haring off alone she might encounter disaster. He couldn’t live with himself if that happened.
“Damn that Webster,” he hissed as he gouged his steed and took off like a discharging cannonball.
Webster was dividing his opposition, in hopes of conquering them in one fell swoop. On second thought, he and Kate should remain with the cattle. There were plenty of reinforcements in town to fight the fire and to track down the men who had ignited the flames.
“Kate!” he called out as he raced after her. “Forget the fire. We need to stay with the planted cattle!”
She skidded her horse to a halt and reined toward him.
“Leave the arsonists to Coop and Alexa,” he insisted as he motioned for her to reverse direction. “We have an important job to do here.”
Chapter Fourteen
“What the hell—?”
Denton stepped into Elliot’s office the instant before Alexa managed to curl her legs under the desk and tuck herself out of sight. Even worse, she hadn’t thought to grab her firearm before dashing off this evening. All she had for protection was the dagger tucked in her boot.
She suddenly remembered the pistol in the top desk drawer that she’d unloaded during her late-night search of the office with Coop. Before Denton could cross the room to grab her, she retrieved the pistol. When he clamped hold of her ankles and dragged her from the desk, she trained the empty weapon on his chest.
“Back off, Oscar, or you’re a dead man,” she said with the most vicious snarl she could muster.
His eyes widened in amazement. “You
?”
The only good thing about this bad situation was that she had completely fooled Denton with her airheaded socialite persona. Now he was taking her very seriously, she noted. Of course, he’d tell Elliot and spoil her charade. Confound it, if she had been a little faster at crawling and he would’ve been a little slower of foot, he wouldn’t have spotted her at all.
Damn her rotten luck!
“What are you doing here?” His gaze narrowed menacingly as he stared at the speaking end of the pistol.
“I’m here to find out what kind of financial trouble my fiancé is in,” she said as an excuse. “I don’t appreciate being used.”
“The boss ain’t gonna like this,” Denton mumbled.
“Neither do I. Elliot’s finances aren’t as secure as he would have me believe. You should change employers, Oscar. Elliot won’t be able to pay you when he lands in jail for fraud and embezzlement. You can come to work for me.” Or so she let him think.
He smiled craftily. “That won’t happen, honey. The boss has everything figured out.”
Alexa felt uneasy about lying on the floor while Oscar loomed over her. Furthermore, his lecherous smiles had always made her nervous—now more than ever. One misstep on her part and he’d overpower her. Then it would be next to impossible to defend herself.
Mustering her bravado, she gestured with the pistol barrel, ordering him to step aside so she could climb to her feet. When the big lummox didn’t budge from his spot, Alexa said, “If you think I don’t know how to use this weapon and that I’m squeamish about the sight of you lying in a pool of your own blood, you are mistaken. Now move.”
Her snarling growl must have been marginally convincing because he took one step to the left. Alexa bounded to her feet and moved an arm’s length away from him.
She directed his attention to the coat closet just beyond the office door. Cursing her foully, Oscar galumphed across the room. Alexa swooped in close enough to retrieve his six-shooter from his holster while he had his back to her.
