Mail-Order Bride Ink: Dear Mr. Diamond

by Kit Morgan

  “I can see you’re upset. Not that I blame you. I do apologize for duping you into thinking you were coming out here to marry a handsome sheriff, only to be denied the bonds of matrimony.”

  She rolled her eyes. He had no idea. But this was no time to think about that – she had to find a way out of this mess.

  “I’m happy to say you’ve come in mighty handy during this operation. You were the perfect distraction. Believe me, the last thing I want is Sheriff Diamond coming after me. But by the time he finds you – or what’s left of you – me and my boys will be long gone.”

  Her eyes widened. What’s left of her? He didn’t mean …?

  “Worried?” He chortled and leaned toward her. “You should be.” He straightened and watched the men sorting through the piles. “There were three sets of plates, in case you haven’t figured that out by now – not just one. Two I hid in separate hollowed-out beams under the boarding house. It wasn’t easy – I spent a lot of time under there, at night mostly. It took me more than a month.”

  Katie’s mind raced over all the details she knew about Jasper Munson’s murder. Mr. Olsen must have wanted his plates in the same place, so he could gather them up whenever he wanted and be gone with no one the wiser. Did this make him the fourth party? Or was he the one that was supposed to ultimately deliver them? How long had he lived in Independence to make this work? He couldn’t be a newcomer – he had to have lived in town for more than a month or so, or someone might suspect him.

  He looked at her and smiled. “I can see by the look on your face that you’re figuring it out.” He sighed. “One more reason I have to get rid of you.”

  She yelped into the gag, struggled again, but it was no use. She was as good as dead.

  “I do have to thank you, though. You were such a good distraction. Sheriff Diamond is still trying to figure things out. By now he must be more confused than ever. Not even Mr. Cord knew about the other plates or where they were hidden. Can’t have merchandise like that come all at once.”

  He knelt next to her again. “And as Mr. Cord was in a relationship with a woman in town, well …” He shrugged. “… it was all too perfect. Cord came to town often enough and seemed the greedy type. He was a perfect scapegoat. Too bad he had a soft spot for Miss Holbrook. I lost a set because of him. But that did give me the idea to send for a mail-order bride to keep that bloodhound sheriff off my scent. I figured if I recover the other two, that makes up for it.”

  The man was not only evil, he had the patience of Job. How else could he pull this off?

  “Yes, it was all rather clever of me, wasn’t it?” he said when he saw her expression.

  She looked away, disinterested in his gloating. But now she knew what happened. Would Jace ever find out? Or would she be dead long before she could tell him?

  He moved out of the way and she got a clear view of the men separating the charred wood from the dirt and rock, putting anything burnable on the pile the landowners had started. The rest was placed around the pile, forming a barrier between it and the surrounding grasses. Anyone watching would think nothing of it, while Mr. Olsen’s men separated out the larger pieces of wood and cut them into smaller pieces to look for the plates uninhibited. After all, small pieces of lumber would burn better. It was all very tidy.

  “It won’t be long now, my dear,” Mr. Olsen said. “As soon as we find the other set, we’ll be on our way.” He looked at her. “Not you, of course. You’re going someplace else.”

  Katie shivered at his words. Her earlier bravado failed and the first tear fell.

  Jace entered the bookshop, two glasses of iced tea in his hands. “Katie?” he called when he didn’t see her.

  A sleepy-eyed Professor Hamilton emerged from the back of the shop. “Sheriff Diamond, good afternoon. Iced tea – how lovely. But I take it neither of those are for me?”

  Jace smiled. “Here, take mine.” He glanced around. “Where’s Katie?”

  Professor Hamilton rubbed his eyes and looked around the shop as well. “I’m not sure. Oh, Miss Haverdash?” Nothing.

  “Katie?” Jace called again. Still nothing. His gut went cold. He went to the door, turned and looked at the counter.

  “What are you doing?” the professor asked. “And where is Miss Haverdash?”

  “She’s not next door – I was just there.” Jace studied the counter, but saw nothing out of place. Wait a minute …

  The professor watched him. “Hm. Why is the feather duster on the floor?”

  Jace bent to study it and looked at the back of the shop. “You have a back door, don’t you?”

  “Yes, why do you ask?”

  He got up and headed that way, his heart pounding. There was no sign of a struggle, but Katie was small – any man could easily overpower her. The end of the feather duster was pointed at the shop’s front door, so she could’ve faced whoever it was, dropped the duster in surprise … yes, that made sense. Whoever it was couldn’t have taken her out the front door – he would’ve been spotted by anyone in the café. But the back door …

  He reached it and stepped into the alley. “Wagon tracks.”

  The professor joined him. “What’s going on?”

  “How many wagons come through here?”

  The professor looked up and down the alley. “Not many. I pick up book deliveries at the post office and bring them here myself. Mr. Gruber’s food deliveries come in through the front door early in the morning. Not many people use the alley.”

  “Except whoever took Katie.” Jace seethed. How stupid could he have been?

  “What?” the professor squeaked. “Are you saying she’s been abducted?”

  “Looks that way, Professor.” Jace went to one knee to study the wagon tracks. “This wagon was loaded. Heavy.”

  “Filled with supplies, maybe?” the professor suggested.

  Jace stood and noticed a few shards of glass in the dirt. “Debris from the cleanup site is my guess.” He picked up a shard and showed it to the professor. “Why else would these be here?”

  The professor adjusted his spectacles. “You’re right! Look at the color – it’s black with smoke.”

  “Precisely.” He turned on his boot heel and strode back into the shop, the professor on his heels.

  “Where are you going?” the professor called after him. “How can I help?”

  “I’m going to the cleanup site. Fetch Doc Stone, tell him to saddle his horse. I need a few men to go with me.”

  “Right away!” Professor Hamilton was out the door as fast as his old spindly legs could carry him.

  Jace checked his gun then hurried to his horse. If Katie suffered because of his negligence, he’d never forgive himself. But he’d make sure her captors suffered more.

  Doc and Professor Hamilton met Jace at the cleanup site. “Don’t blame yourself,” Ephraim told him. “You were distracted.”

  Jace seethed. “Which was the point! Now they have her – whoever they are.” He studied their surroundings. Another wagon was being loaded with scraps of wood and other debris. “Something’s different.”

  “I’m sorry, Sheriff,” the professor interrupted. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be much help at this point. I haven’t been here.”

  “I know, Professor – don’t worry about it. Thank you for getting Doc for me.” He turned to Ephraim as the professor shuffled off. “Let’s follow the tracks I found behind the bookshop.”

  Fletcher joined them along with Chance Tindle and Alex Smythe. “We’re ready!”

  Jace nodded at Chance. He might be a newspaperman, but Jace knew him to be good with a gun, as was Alex, Julian’s eldest. “I warn you men, this could get dangerous.”

  They nodded. “We’re ready,” Chance said. “Let’s go.”

  Jace took a last look around the site, noticed there was only one wagon and realized what was out of place. “Mayor Vander!”

  The old mayor smiled and shuffled over. “Sheriff Diamond, come to work?”

  “
Where are the other wagons?”

  The mayor studied his surroundings. “I don’t know. Maybe Mr. Olsen told everyone hauling loads to the Edmondsons’ to go home for the day. Seems rather odd, we didn’t quit this early yesterday.”

  “Mr. Olsen …” Jace mused, and his eyes narrowed. “He lives on First Street, doesn’t he?”

  “Of course he does,” Mayor Vander boomed. “Everyone knows that.”

  Jace’s jaw tightened. “And a window on the side of his house faces Main.” He cursed. “How did I miss it?!”

  “What?” the mayor asked.

  “You’ve got to be joking,” Ephraim said. “Joseph Olsen?”

  “He’s only been in town about four months,” Jace said. “That shot could have easily come from his house. And he’s not here where he should be. Let’s go.” He took off in a cloud of dust, and the other young men in the posse quickly followed.

  “My, they certainly are in a hurry,” Mayor Vander remarked, fanning away the dust.

  “Indeed, they are.”

  The mayor jumped and gaped at the well-dressed giant standing next to him. “Where did you come from?”

  The big man looked down at him with crystal blue eyes. “Clear Creek, if you must know. I’m here to see Sheriff Diamond. We have business to discuss, but he seems busy at the moment.”

  The mayor’s face screwed up. What a funny accent the stranger had. “Yes, well, there’s some sort of shenanigans going on. That had all the makings of a posse if you ask me.”

  “So it was.” The big man surveyed what debris remained. “No matter, I can wait.” He started to walk away.

  “We have a fine hotel,” Mayor Vander boomed after him.

  The giant stopped. “Yes, I know.” He continued on.

  “Who was that, dear?” Mercy asked as she joined her husband.

  “I haven’t the slightest idea. Come, Mercy, let’s go take care of Sophie. I have a strong feeling she’ll be upset when she finds out Fletcher just took off with Sheriff Diamond. He looked mad as a rattler.”

  “Why would that be?”

  Horace Vander shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. But a man with that look in his eye is spoiling for a fight.” He put an arm around his wife. “Let’s go home. It’ll be safer there.”

  Katie grunted as she was once again toss over someone’s shoulder, loaded into the back of a wagon and carted off. This ride wasn’t long, but when they took her out, she was in the middle of nowhere, near a log cabin in a clearing, surrounded by woods, clueless as to where she was.

  “Put her inside and tie her to a chair,” Mr. Olsen ordered. He casually watched as one of his men did his bidding, none too gently.

  She hit the chair with a “mmmph!” and was quickly lashed to it.

  “Comfy?” Mr. Olsen waved at their surroundings. “I’ve always wanted to have someone at my mercy and now I have.” He smiled at her. “Now before we say our goodbyes, I want you to know that your precious sheriff, if he’s quick, has a chance of saving you. It all depends on where he is at the moment and how long it takes him to see the smoke.”

  Her eyes went wide and she looked around the cabin. It was clearly abandoned. She spied some wooden jacks on the floor. If children had been playing here, were they near a farm?

  Mr. Olsen smiled again. He was enjoying this. “If he can get here in time to rescue you, bravo. If not …” He shrugged. “… too bad.”

  She gulped.

  He began to gather pieces of junk, tossing them into the nearest corner to make a pile. “Fire can spread quickly depending on how you start it, or go slow if you want. But once it really gets going, you haven’t a chance.” He turned to her. “So should we make it quick … or slow?”

  Her chest heaved with the first sob, even as she glared at him.

  He ignored it. “For time’s sake and to give your sheriff a fighting chance, we’ll start it slow. I do hope you see the poetic justice in this. Poor Mrs. Bee was cheated out of killing your friends Sophie and Priscilla. This will make up for it. That lying, wily Mrs. Bee was my kind of woman, even if she did try to steal from me.”

  Katie screamed into the gag, unable to contain her terror any longer. She was going to die.

  Mr. Olsen hummed a merry tune as he continued to pile up whatever he could find. Then he pulled a candle stub out of his pocket, set it on the floor near her chair and left, only to return in a moment, a lantern in his hand. He took it to the pile, shattered it and dumped kerosene over everything. Retrieving the candle, he set it in the middle of the pile and carefully lit it.

  Katie was crying now, gritting her teeth against the gag.

  He turned to her and smiled. “I figure he has about ten minutes to find you before the fire really gets going.” He came over, grabbed the back of the chair and, with a loud grunt, dragged her to the other side of the cabin. “You don’t look strong enough to inch your way to that candle to snuff it out, but I’m taking no chances. Besides, it’s a lovely place from which to enjoy the fire.”

  Mr. Olsen was completely around the bend. But there was nothing she could do. She growled into the gag as he strolled out of the cabin, whistling as he did.

  Now Katie was really angry. She’d been nothing but a pawn to this lunatic, and now that he had no more use for her except as another distraction, he was taking her life. He’d done everything right under their noses, in plain sight. If there was a just God, he’d hang for it in plain sight too.

  Chapter Twenty

  Darcy stood stock still as a huge man entered the café. She’d spotted him in town before and thought she’d been seeing things – no one could be that big. But there he was, sitting at a corner table and looking at her, waiting to be served.

  “What are you doing?” Mr. Gruber hissed. “Take care of the …” Then he got a good look at the man. “Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat,” he said under his breath. “Er, take care of the customer.” He gave her a little shove.

  She walked over slowly, her heart pounding. She wasn’t sure why she was reacting like this. She was approaching a man at a table, not a hungry bear. Except he was about the size of a grizzly. And his eyes … they bore into her, as if unveiling every secret, every hidden thought she’d ever had. At least that’s what it felt like. “C-can I get you some w-water or tea?”

  His eyes never left hers. “Water.”

  He had an odd accent. “S-sure,” she stammered. She turned to leave.

  “Darcy.”

  She stopped. How did he know her name? She turned back and stared.

  He smiled. It felt like he was revealing fangs. “How old are you, child?”

  “I-I …” She swallowed. “I’ll be eighteen in September.”

  “Good.” He motioned to the kitchen. “Water.”

  She turned and hurried to the water pitcher behind the counter, poured him a glass with shaking hands, took a deep breath and turned to face him again. And again, her feet wouldn’t move. He’d taken off his hat, and a long, thick braid of silver hair cascaded over his shoulder, nearly to his waist. He motioned her to approach.

  She did, spilling water as she went. By the time she reached him a quarter of it was on the floor in a trail behind her. His size, his eyes, everything about him overwhelmed her. Finally she set the glass on the table. “Anything else?” she whimpered.

  “This will do.” He took a sip. “I’m afraid I haven’t time for more. Time is passing.”

  “Time … sir?”

  “Yes, child. More quickly for some than others. For you, Darcy, it passes slowly. At the moment.”

  She shook her head. She had no idea what he was talking about.

  “For your sheriff, on the other hand, he has little left.” He sighed, took out a pocket watch and flipped it open. “Minutes, in fact.” He snapped it closed.

  “W-what do you mean?” She glanced at the door and back. Strange things had been happening in town lately … was this man behind them? “Who are you?”

  “My name is Markhel. I have business w
ith your sheriff, but he is occupied at present.”

  “He is?” Had Sheriff Diamond found the man who was taking shots at his mail-order bride?

  Markhel didn’t smile, but he didn’t frown either. “Love, child. He is about the business of love.” He leaned in her direction. “A very powerful thing, it is.”

  “I … I don’t think I understand, sir.”

  His eyes softened. “You will.” He drained the glass, put on his hat and stood. “Thank you for the water.”

  She watched him go, but a part of her didn’t want him to. He was so fascinating and strange. “Sir, um … would you like me to give the sheriff a message?”

  His head turned slightly as he reached the door. “No need. I’m on my way to see him now.” He left, closing the door behind him.

  “Who was that?” Mr. Gruber said as he emerged from the kitchen. He looked at the now-empty chair. “He didn’t order anything?”

  “Just water,” Darcy said, eyes still on the door.

  “When am I going to get a paying customer? All anyone’s ordering lately is water and iced tea! Dangblasted heat! Did he at least toss you a coin for the water?”

  Darcy blinked, looked at the table and caught a glint of something. “I believe he did.”

  “Well, that’s something. Put it in the till, then come help with the lunch dishes.” He stomped back into the kitchen.

  She nodded on her way to the table. It looked like a silver coin, but none she’d ever seen. It was large and had a funny symbol on it, some sort of fancy Celtic knot like she’d seen in a book once. There were fancy letters T and M intersecting in the middle of it. She picked it up. It was heavy, so probably not silver but steel. In other words, pretty but worthless as U.S. currency. “Figures.” She slipped it into her apron pocket. Mr. Gruber would only get upset if he saw it, then complain the rest of the day about cheap patrons with foreign coins.

  Darcy headed for the kitchen, shaking her head. If the man had business with Sheriff Diamond, then maybe she’d have a chance to ask the stranger about the coin later. For now, the dishes waited.