by Kit Morgan
“That’s what I hope to find out,” Sheriff Diamond said.
Sophie glanced between them. “I’m sorry, what’s going on?”
Fletcher took her hands in his. “I know we’ve just gone through a lot, darling, and we’re newlyweds besides. But Jace needs our help. Someone sent away for a mail-order bride in his name. Poor Miss Haverdash answered the false letter.” He glanced at Katie. “Was there more than one?”
“No. It’s in my carpetbag.”
“I’ve already examined it,” Sheriff Diamond said. “It’s pretty general – it doesn’t even say what I look like.” He turned to Katie. “Why would you come meet a man who didn’t even describe himself?”
Now everyone looked at her. She sighed. “Because it was either you or a very unsuitable arranged marriage. Or a seventy-year-old pig farmer in Wyoming.”
“You made the right choice, dear,” Mercy said cheerfully. “I’m more than happy to help you with the wedding plans.”
Sheriff Diamond rubbed his face. “Mrs. Vander …”
“Never mind about her,” Fletcher smiled at Katie. “My grandmother loves weddings.”
Despite the circumstances, she smiled back. “I can see that.”
Sheriff Diamond, hands on his hips, looked between Katie and the Vanders. “There are some things I need to find out. Do you mind entertaining Miss Haverdash for a time?”
“We’ll do better than that!” Fletcher’s grandmother said. “Dear, do you have a place to stay?”
“Well …” Katie began.
“Nonsense – you’ll stay with us. Won’t she, Fletcher?”
Sophie covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. It was obvious that Grandma Vander did this sort of thing all the time.
Katie looked at Sheriff Diamond, who only shrugged. “You see, I was planni–”
“But I already said you could stay with us,” Mercy declared.
Katie giggled and decided to make the decision easier for everyone. “All right. I’d love to stay with you.” If anything, the delightful old woman would help keep her mind off the problems at hand. Eventually, she’d have to face them, but right now she was too tired. When she was rested, she’d deal with her heartbreak.
Chapter Six
“That’s horrible!” Katie said as Sophie finished her tale of woe. Fletcher had left with Sheriff Diamond to see what they could find out. She didn’t know where they went and didn’t want to at this point. She was exhausted, and tea and cookies were just the thing to lift her spirits and calm her nerves.
“Horrible, frightening, despairing … I can’t come up with enough words to describe what it was like at the time,” Sophie said.
“He tied you two up, set the house on fire and left you?!” Katie shuddered. “I don’t even want to imagine it.”
“Please don’t. I had nightmares for … well, I still do.” Sophie picked up her teacup and took a sip.
“I’m sorry you went through such an ordeal.” Katie offered. Her situation paled in comparison.
“Thank you. I’m just glad it’s over, Fletcher and I are now married and settled here in the main house.”
“Main house?”
“Fletcher’s parents live a few blocks away. One day they’ll move here to take care of Grandma and Grandpa Vander, and we’ll move into their house.”
Katie glanced around the room. The Vanders’ home wasn’t as grand as her own back in Denver, but from what she’d seen of the town so far, it was the nicest house in Independence. “It’s lovely.”
“Thank you. Betsy and Cecil keep it up. Gran Mercy does her share of decorating, but Betsy runs the household for the most part.”
“Does she want to work at her age?”
“Sure. She’s not as old as Gran Mercy, and she’s more or less part of the family.”
Katie’s eyebrows rose. She’d never heard of such a thing.
“I know, it’s strange. But the Vanders love her and so do I. You’ll love Cecil too.”
“Is he … the butler?” she guessed.
“And married to Betsy,” Sophie said with a smile.
Katie smiled back, sipped her tea and let herself relax. The tea was good, the cookies wonderful, the company best of all. She had nothing to complain about after listening to Sophie Vander. Well, except probably being disowned, disinherited, never speaking to her parents again and having no means of support in a strange location …
“You look upset,” Sophie observed.
Katie set down her cup. “You have an interesting tale, and so do I. But mine doesn’t involve being bound and gagged and left in a burning house.”
“What does it involve?”
Katie sighed, frustrated. “Ronald Finch.”
“Who’s that?”
She reached for a cookie. “The man my parents want me to marry.”
Sophie sat back in her chair. “Oh. One of those.”
“You’re familiar with them?”
“Not personally, but I had relatives I used to take care of who knew people, who knew other people, who suffered arranged marriages.”
“Suffered?”
“Quite. From what I hear they were all miserable.”
Katie sighed. “That’s what I’m trying to avoid.”
“Please don’t think me presumptuous. But my guess is you come from a wealthy family?”
Katie shrugged.
“It’s only the wealthy that arrange marriages these days. Usually for business purposes.”
Katie nodded. She didn’t want to give too many details about how affluent her family was. The woman might tell her she was idiot and should take the first train back to Denver. So what if Ronald wasn’t her cup of tea? His bank account should be.
“I’m sorry,” Sophie said. “I’ve overstepped my bounds, haven’t I?”
“No,” Katie picked up her teacup. “It’s a long story.”
“You ran away to become a mail-order bride in order to avoid marrying someone you knew you could never fall in love with, then came here only to discover that your supposed betrothed never sent for you in the first place.” She smiled at her. “How did I do?”
Katie smiled weakly. “The sheriff doesn’t hold a candle to you.”
“You poor dear. Clearly you don’t want to go back.”
Katie nodded. She’d take her risks here, thank you very much. If by some miracle she could talk her parents into giving up their notions about Ronald Finch, it would only be a matter of time before they approached her with another gentleman. Unfortunately, the families of Denver’s high society had a current crop of bad eggs that needed to be married off to get future heirs.
“Well, at least we know that much of the mystery,” Sophie said.
“Yes, my part is easy. But that still doesn’t explain poor Sheriff Diamond’s.” She sipped her tea, then set the cup down again. “Do you think it has any connection with what happened to you?”
Sophie made a face. “I don’t see how. On the one hand, what Jace and Fletcher suggested about you being used as a distraction makes sense. But the timing is off.”
“Yes, but who knows how long Mrs. Pettigrew had Sheriff Diamond’s application? The person that sent it might’ve done so months before.”
“But if that’s true, I would’ve been presented with it,” Sophie pointed out. “She didn’t have it when I saw her, only Jasper’s. And unfortunately, much of what was written in those letters wasn’t true.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Seems we’ve both been duped.”
“I definitely was,” Sophie agreed. “But you might simply be a victim of circumstances. I was framed.” She thought a moment. “Which makes more sense as a distraction.”
“If this has nothing to do with what happened to you, then what?”
Sophie shrugged helplessly. “Maybe the Mad Matchmaker is back.”
Katie frowned. “Somehow I don’t think I’ll wind up with a husband like everyone else did.”
“It will work out, Katie, you’ll
see. What’s the worst that can happen?”
Katie sighed. “This town wouldn’t happen to have a library, would it?”
“A small one. Why?”
“Because I love books, and I used to volunteer at the library near where I lived in Denver. I spent hours there. I’d love to get a job in another one, or maybe a bookshop.”
“Then we should speak to Professor Hamilton – he owns the bookstore in town. It’s very popular and he’s a wonderful man. He’s as old as Fletcher’s grandparents, if not older.”
“Oh my,” Katie said. “How’s his eyesight?”
“Fairly good, and he can still hear. But he may want to retire soon.”
For the first time since her arrival, Katie felt a flicker of hope. “When can we speak with him?”
“You’ve been through a lot today,” Sophie said. “Why don’t we visit his shop tomorrow?”
Katie smiled. “Thank you. Let’s.”
Jace was having a hard time concentrating. He and Fletcher had returned to the sheriff’s office to go through the files on the Munson case. Though most of it had been turned over to state authorities, Jace still had access to a few things.
“I’d like to go with you to Salem,” Fletcher said. “After all, I am the victim’s husband.”
“Sebastian Cord would have told us about this, don’t you think?” Jace asked.
“Not necessarily. He might have figured it wasn’t germane to the case,” Fletcher said. “At least he’s been trying to come clean and help out.”
“So it might have been Mrs. Bee or Mr. Hilton that sent for another mail-order bride. The distraction theory does make sense.”
“Yes. Maybe they decided not to stop it, just to spite you.”
Jace rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened.”
“To you personally?” Fletcher asked with a smile.
“I’ve had my share of revenge seekers. But they usually involved bullets, not brides.”
“See? There are worse things than Miss Haverdash showing up on your doorstep.”
Jace had to agree. “True. She’s a lot prettier than a bullet in the back.”
“That she is,” Fletcher said with a smile. “And here to get married…”
“Fletch, no.”
“Why not?”
“I can’t think about marriage right now. I did at one time but, something came up.”
“What, Jasper Munson’s murder? That’s the most excitement around here in years.”
“No, something else.”
Fletcher put down the papers he’d been studying. “Can I ask what?”
Jace set his own stack to the side. “A man by the name of Markhel came into the sheriff’s office about a week ago. He says he works for an organization called the Knights of the Prairie.”
Fletcher’s brow wrinkled. “So they’re based here in the West?”
“I think their main offices are. Maybe San Francisco. He mentioned several large cities.”
“What do they do?”
“All the things no one else wants to.”
Fletcher stared at him. “What does that mean?”
Jace took a deep breath. “It means it’s dangerous work. But the pay is incredible. I’ve missed the chase from my Ranger days, Fletch. I’ve missed it ever since I came back here.”
“Personally, I don’t understand why you came back to Independence.”
“You know why. Ma was feeling poorly, and Pa worried she’d die. They wanted me here so they could spend time with me before she passed.”
“Yes, but your ma and pa are both healthy as horses now.” Fletcher picked up the stack of papers again. “I know a few years ago, your ma was mighty ill. My mother visited her on several occasions.”
“And we appreciated every visit, Pa especially so. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but I never visited. I was in Portland, remember?”
“Yes, working for that law firm.”
“Until I got fired,” Fletcher reminded him.
“Best thing that ever happened to you,” Jace argued. “The moment you got home you had a murder case to solve and a bride besides.”
Fletcher smiled. “That I did. And I’d like to see you get one. But if this job you’re telling me about is more important to you, well, there’s nothing keeping you here.”
“I’d be working all over the West, I’m told. I could still visit often enough. These people go looking for recruits – they heard of my Ranger work and came looking for me. It’s a tempting offer.”
Fletcher shook his head. “Good money, adventure, action. What more could a man like you want? Sometimes I envy you. But I wouldn’t trade my life for yours. Not after Sophie came into it.”
Jace noted the love in his eyes. Sophie was Fletcher’s world, and he wanted the same thing. “And that’s the catch. If I take Mr. Markhel’s offer, I’m required to not marry. No family ties – that’s one of their rules.”
“Ah, I see.” Fletcher nodded judiciously. “Well, if you do take the offer, we’ll miss having you around.”
“I know.”
They got back to work, neither adding to the conversation. Jace knew he’d have to talk with his folks about the offer soon. He ate Sunday supper with them and Wednesday dinner on occasion. But he was also the only lawman in town and rarely used deputies, so if anything happened, he had to handle it, time planned with family or not.
They pored over what information they had on Jasper’s murder, then made a list of other possible reasons someone would send for a mail-order bride in his name. “Looks like we’re back to the Mad Matchmaker,” Fletcher said with a mischievous grin.
Jace groaned. “I’d rather it be part of Jasper’s mess.”
“Maybe we’ll find out once we talk to the culprits behind Jasper’s mess. And that means a trip to Salem.”
“I know.” Jace sat back in his chair and rubbed his tired eyes. This had been a long day, made longer by the arrival of Katie Haverdash. He wondered how she was doing. Was she still upset? She looked frightened a few times, and he hated to see that. He had a soft spot for someone in need of protection – especially someone like Katie Haverdash, so small and vulnerable. Any man could easily overpower her, toss her over his shoulder and be gone.
Which made him think … “Fletch? What if this isn’t about me? What if someone wanted Miss Haverdash to come here?”
Fletcher straightened some papers before putting them away. “What for? There’s nothing in Independence.”
“Right. The perfect place to disappear.” Jace left his chair and started to pace. “What if someone who’s only using the location, decided to use … anyone, really, it just happened to be me … to lure her here and do away with her? What if I’m not the target – she is?”
“What?” Fletcher jumped to his feet. “Do you think someone’s after Miss Haverdash?”
“I don’t know. But my gut says she’s in trouble.”
“That could mean a number of things. I’m a lawyer – trust me, I know.”
Jace sat on the edge of his desk. “I need to speak with her and find out why she became a mail-order bride. But first I need to find out if anyone suspicious has been lurking around here. Now that Mrs. Bee’s boarding house has burned down, anyone that passes through has to stay at the hotel.”
“True, but I haven’t seen anyone new in town. Just the usual folks passing through.”
“That’s all anyone would have to do – just pass through. Doesn’t take long to put something in the post, and before you know it, a mail-order bride arrives.”
“True,” Fletcher agreed. “But why use you? Personally, I think this has nothing to do with her and everything to do with you. You know … it could come down to the Mad Matchmaker having one last laugh before they pass on. Whoever it is has to be pretty old by now.”
Jace paced the office again. “Perhaps, perhaps not.”
Fletcher laughed. “You wish it was murder and may
hem instead? You just told me you miss the chase …”
Jace sighed. “Forget I said that.”
“I can’t. As this town’s future mayor, I’ll have to find me a new sheriff if you take that other job.”
“Speaking of which, don’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t want folks getting upset if they don’t have to. You know how the old-timers around here are.”
“Do I ever.” Fletcher rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.” He sighed again. “So we start crossing things off our list. First, we rule out any involvement with Jasper’s murder, then find out if anyone wants to harm Katie … I mean, Miss Haverdash. Then we – and I can’t believe I’m saying this – re-open the case of the Mad Matchmaker.”
Fletcher eyed him, probably because he’d caught his slip. But it was too late to do anything about it now. Besides, so what if he’d used the woman’s Christian name?
“Fine,” Fletcher finally said. “Tomorrow we go to Salem?”
Jace nodded. “Yep.” They needed evidence, or at least a hint. And the state prison was the most likely place to find it.
Chapter Seven
“And this is our dear friend Mahulda Brock,” Mercy said.
Katie smiled at the older woman. Mercy, Martha, Maude and Mahulda all had to be in their seventies at least. The four old matrons giggled and chatted over tea and seemed genuinely delighted to have Sophie and Katie with them.
“To think you two were both mail-order brides,” Martha commented. “Why, we haven’t had any mail-order brides in this town for ages.”
“It has been a while,” Maude agreed.
Katie smiled. Maude Smythe was the undertaker’s wife; the Smythes had been burying people in Independence for decades. Martha Tindle and her husband owned the general store, which Daisy and their son Morgan now ran for them. Mercy’s husband Horace Vander had been mayor since time immemorial. And Mahulda Brock’s husband owned the bank. The women were pillars of the community, and the morning had flown by since their arrival.
Mahulda mentioned that her daughter Eva had married an undertaker in Oregon City. “I so wish the children and grandchildren had been in town for the Fourth of July celebration. But no, they wanted to stay home this year.”
