“Don’t you do anything foolish.”
Before she could answer, Syd kicked the horse, taking off at a fast pace down the dirt alley behind the jail. Turning toward the river, he dodged horses, people, and wagons before making a sharp turn to disappear into the woods and out of town.
“You be sure to come back next Sunday, Brodie.” Lorna hugged her son, then stepped away, letting Jinny give her brother a hug.
“If you can’t make it on Sunday, at least come back for Thanksgiving.” Jinny gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“I’ll not be missing Thanksgiving, lass. You can count on it.” He glanced down at his sister, Kenzie. “Don’t be giving Fletcher too much grief when you help round up the steers. He has enough trouble keeping his mind on work.”
Kenzie giggled, hugging Brodie around his waist. “He’s lucky to have me. No one else wants to ride with him.”
Brodie glanced behind her at Fletcher, who stood with his arms crossed, a grin on his face.
“Do you really have to go?” Banner stepped up to him, Clint by his twin’s side.
“I’m afraid I do, laddie. But I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Banner sighed, holding out his hand. “All right.” Brodie clasped his hand, pulling Banner, then Clint into a hug. “Both of you are growing too fast.” He rested his hands on their shoulders, kneeling down to talk to them in private. “Now, laddies, Ma needs your help. I know she has Jinny, Fletcher, and Kenzie, but she needs you to do your part. Do you understand?”
“You sound like Pa,” Banner grumbled.
Brodie laughed as he stood back up and walked down the porch steps to take Hunter’s reins. “I’ll see all of you soon.”
“Hold up, lad.”
Brodie glanced behind him to see his father, Ewan, walking toward him from the barn. “I thought you and Uncle Ian were still at the neighbor’s.”
“Widow Evanston listened to our thoughts, then booted us out. We did get to see Heather for a little while. She seems happy, although I believe the lass is starting to miss us.” Ewan glanced at his wife, a look of affection Brodie had grown used to seeing crossing his face. “Your ma is happy you came today.”
“And you?”
“Ach, Brodie. I see you when I ride into town. And I’ll be doing that more, so you need to get used to it.” Ewan stretched out his hand, which Brodie accepted.
“Aye. I believe I can handle seeing you more often, Da.”
Brodie reined Hunter around, waved to his family, and took off for town. It had been good seeing his family, spending time with them, learning what he’d missed. With such a big family, he could spend days before getting caught up on everyone. Right now, as he rode the trail back to Conviction, what he wanted most was to get back to the jail and make sure Maggie was all right.
Chapter Sixteen
Brodie heard two explosions a mile before reaching the outskirts of town. Giving Hunter a quick command, he moved the horse into a gallop. His heart pounded as he thought of what the blasts meant and what he might find. The third explosion ripped through the air as he hit the eastern border of the main street. He barely slowed down as he jumped to the ground in front of the jail and burst through the door.
Seeing no one, he dashed to the back, coming to a halt when he saw the empty cell, Maggie nowhere in sight.
Drawing his gun, turning in a circle, he spotted the open back door and dashed outside. He ran to the alley, looked one way and then the other, seeing stunned people moving about in a daze, as if absorbing what had occurred. Holstering his gun, Brodie hurried back into the jail and out the front door, almost barreling into Jack.
“What the hell happened?” He grabbed Jack by the shoulders.
“Explosions, Sheriff. Three of them. Lots of damage, but no injuries so far. Sam is checking the damage at the docks. Nate is at Lucky’s Saloon.”
“And the third blast?” Brodie dropped his hold on Jack and spun around, trying to locate Maggie.
“The park two blocks over.” Jack stepped away, taking a good look at Brodie, seeing more than concern over the explosions.
“And no injuries. How can that be?”
“Don’t know, Sheriff. Guess we’ll have to ask the man who set them—if we ever find him.”
Brodie glared at his deputy. “We’ll find the sonofabitch who did this, Jack. You can put money on it. He’s probably the one who took Maggie.”
Jack’s mouth dropped open. “Miss King? She’s not in the jail?” He didn’t wait for Brodie to answer before he whirled around and raced to the back, his eyes bulging at the empty cell. “Dadgum. You think someone set the explosions so they could get her out?”
“Aye. But who, and what did they use?”
“Black powder and liquid nitroglycerine.” Sam walked into the jail, mumbling a curse when he saw Maggie nowhere around. “She get out?”
“Taken is my guess.” Brodie shifted toward Sam. “Black powder I can understand, but nitroglycerine? I thought it was outlawed when a crate exploded at the Wells Fargo building in San Francisco.”
Sam offered a bland expression. “MacLaren, we are speaking about outlaws here. Someone who set off three blasts and may have taken Maggie. How do you think they got it?”
Brodie pinched the bridge of his nose. “We need to find her.”
“And we will. Nate should come with us. His tracking skills could be useful.” Sam pulled out his revolver, checking the cylinder, then grabbed another box of ammunition.
“Jack, I need you to stay here.” Brodie checked his Colt revolver, then pulled a second gun from a hidden drawer in the desk.
“Sure, Sheriff. What about the explosions?”
“We find Maggie and we’ll find who’s responsible for setting them. I’d appreciate it if you’d let Mr. Fielder know what we’re doing.” Brodie slipped both arms into his jacket, then turned toward Sam. “Let’s find Nate, then go after the spineless varmint who took Maggie.”
“Where are you taking me?” They’d ridden for less than an hour. Maggie’s body ached, her broken arm throbbed, and she didn’t recognize the trail.
Syd either didn’t hear the question or chose to ignore her.
“Syd, where are we going?”
“You are an annoying wench, aren’t you?” He made a sudden turn onto a narrow animal trail, then glanced behind him.
“I’m no wench.” Maggie gripped the saddle’s cantle tighter, her anger rising, accompanied by a renewed sense of panic.
His bark of laughter sickened her. “You cooked, cleaned, and refused to marry Arnie. In my mind, that makes you a wench. But you won’t have to worry about that for long.”
Her body tensed. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll find out soon enough, missy.”
A cold ball of fear lodged in her stomach, the same sickening sensation she felt each time Arnie entered the cabin. She hated how the Stoddard brothers had changed her, made her believe she was worthless for anything except providing services to Arnie.
Glancing around, she memorized the path, noticing the location of the sun and an occasional large boulder or dead tree. Looking down, she spotted his knife in a sheath on his belt, and made a decision. No matter the risk, she’d take the knife and use it to gain her freedom.
“There are fresh tracks on a trail up ahead. From what I can tell, it’s one horse carrying two people.” Nate reined up alongside Brodie and Sam. They’d scoured the trails along the river, finding nothing until Nate rode ahead, disappearing into the thick brush.
“Do you know where the trail goes, MacLaren?”
Brodie shook his head. “Never noticed it before, Sam. If it continues up into those hills, they could be headed for one of the abandoned mines.”
They rode in silence for several minutes, each keeping watch on their surroundings. Sam shifted in his saddle, looking over his shoulder at Brodie.
“You understand there’s a chance Miss King and whomever broke her out are in this together. This may not be a k
idnapping.”
“Aye, Sam. The thought had crossed my mind.” He didn’t want to believe it, and couldn’t think of anyone who’d risk their neck by helping her escape. Except…
Sam took a cheroot from his vest pocket, fingering it, but not lighting the thin cigar. “Seems the one person sympathetic to her is Joel Stoddard.”
“According to Fielder, he’s working almost twenty-four hours a day to come up with a defense to clear her. It’s hard to believe he’d break her out after spending no time with her. Fielder’s been the one talking to Maggie, with Joel keeping his distance.”
“Then who else?” Sam continued to twirl the cheroot as he thought of who else could’ve helped Maggie escape.
“There’s no one. Other than Joel, she has no one.” Brodie tried to control the growing knot of dread building in his chest. “It’s either someone who believes she killed Arnie Stoddard and wants her to pay for it, or the real killer.” He mumbled a curse when a flash of understanding whipped through him. “Syd Stoddard,” he ground out, looking at Sam and Nate.
“That would be my guess.” Sam slipped the cigar back into his pocket. “We’d better get moving.”
At first she’d thought Syd planned to take her to the cabin. The longer they rode through the thick brush and tall trees, though, it became clear they were nowhere near the dilapidated shack Arnie called their home. After a grueling and painful ride, Syd guided the horse into a clearing and toward a cutout in the hillside. Ahead were three entrances into the mountain. Her stomach twisted when she realized they were part of the abandoned mine tunnels Arnie, Syd, and Joel had spoken of more than once. A good place to hide secrets, she remembered Arnie saying.
Syd reined up in front of the closest mine, loosened the rope securing him to Maggie, swung his leg over the horse’s neck, and slid down. “This is it, missy.”
“What is this place?” She didn’t move, her legs clamping around the horse’s girth.
“This is where you’ll be staying for a good, long time.” Laughing at his own joke, he reached up, grabbing her around the waist and yanking her to the ground. Shoving her in front of him, he headed toward the entrance. Boards, hastily nailed in a crisscross pattern, sealed the front, a bleak warning of what lay ahead.
“You’re not going to leave me in there, are you?” She tried to dig in her heels, slow her progress. His hand tightened around her right arm, digging in, bruising her through the blouse and thin coat she wore.
“Believe me. You ain’t going to mind.” Syd shoved her forward, chuckling when she tripped and fell to the ground. “Don’t move.” Pulling his knife from its sheath, he used it to loosen several of the boards. Throwing them into a pile, he stilled at the warning rattle a few feet away. Laying the knife aside, he reached for her, his gaze darting around.
Maggie’s gaze never left the discarded knife as she let him pull her up, her skirt brushing against the spot the weapon had been carelessly left. Her broken left arm throbbed as she tried to straighten it enough to grasp the knife without him seeing. Without warning, he dropped his hold on her right arm, drew his gun, and fired.
“Dang rattlers.” He fired again, then holstered the gun and walked to where the dead snake twitched. Bending over, he picked it up behind the head, tossing it several feet away, never noticing Maggie as she grabbed the knife, hiding it within the folds of her skirt. Grabbing her arm again, he pushed her toward the mine. “In you go, missy.”
Maggie almost lost her grip on the knife as he shoved her inside. Taking a couple staggering steps, she looked around, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness.
“Keep moving.” Syd nudged her from behind, pushing her through a narrow passage and into another tunnel. “Hold up.” Striking a lucifer, he picked up a lantern and lit it. “Keep going.” They continued for another thirty or forty feet before the tunnel opened into what appeared to be a natural cavern.
Maggie looked around and then up. The opening had to be at least fifteen feet high and the same in diameter. Discarded tools, strips of leather, and a pile of old blankets lay strewn around the floor. Before her gaze moved away, she gasped, spotting what appeared to be the heel of a boot sticking out of one edge of a blanket.
“Over there.” He nodded toward another tunnel at the other side of the opening.
Maggie approached the narrow entrance, which was no more than two feet wide and five feet high. Fear gripped her as she looked toward the pitch black interior and froze.
“No. I won’t go in there.”
“You’ll be going in there all right.” Syd pulled out his gun, nudging the barrel into her back.
Swinging around, Maggie glared at him. “No. I’m not going any further. If you’re going to kill me, do it here.” She’d shifted the knife from her left to right hand, gripping it tight within the folds of her skirt.
Syd studied her a moment, coming to a conclusion. Gripping her arm, he pulled her toward the pile of blankets and threw her on top of them, crushing her already broken left arm. Her scream of pain faded when she slipped off the blankets, drawing them down to expose a decomposing body. She recognized the clothes, the ravaged face. Tom Franks. Another scream, soul deep and powerful, ripped from her throat, echoing in the small space as the horror before her sunk in.
“Did you hear that?” Brodie reined Hunter to a stop and looked around.
“It sounded like—”
Sam clamped his mouth shut as another scream echoed across the meadow separating the dense trees from the hillside dotted with deserted mines.
Nate reacted first, spurring his horse toward an opening where several boards had been pulled away. “It had to have come from in here.”
All three dismounted, drawing their guns and stepping into the darkness. Stopping inside, Brodie blinked several times, letting his eyes adjust as he listened. He moved toward a tunnel several feet away when he heard the sound of male voices. Nodding for Sam and Nate to follow, he stepped into the narrow space, following the voices and small splatter of light.
“Put the gun down, Syd.”
“Not a chance, kid. I’m not taking a chance the woman who killed Arnie is found innocent. You and I both know she’s not.”
“Maggie is innocent.”
Brodie continued forward, careful to stay as silent as possible. He recognized the second voice as belonging to Joel Stoddard. Stopping a few feet before the entrance to a large cavern, he flattened himself against a wall, signaling to Sam and Nate to do the same.
“You’ve always defended her, but you’re wrong this time. No matter what anyone says, she killed Arnie and buried his body. All I’m looking for is justice. You need to step away from her, or I swear I’ll shoot you both.”
Brodie risked a glance into the opening, seeing Maggie shifting her gaze between the brothers, her eyes going wide. “It was you, Syd. You killed Arnie.”
“The hell I did.”
“You hated him. Maybe more than I did.” Maggie rose, shifting the knife in her right hand, preparing to throw it. “And you killed Tom Franks.”
“I didn’t kill anyone, missy. Arnie got rid of Tom. I just helped him move the body in here.” Syd smirked, turning toward Joel. “I’m telling you, this woman is the one who murdered our brother. She deserves what she gets.”
“Brother or not, I can’t let you hurt her.” Joel raised his gun, pointing it at Syd’s chest, preparing to fire. “Maggie is innocent.”
“You don’t know that.” Syd’s voice rose as he advanced a few feet toward Joel.
“I do know.” A pained expression clouded Joel’s face as his gaze met Maggie’s. “I killed Arnie.”
Maggie gasped at the confession, taking a couple steps backward.
Syd’s jaw dropped. “You?” he growled, his eyes widening as he took another step forward.
Joel swung his gun, knocking his brother to his knees. Syd grasped the back of his head and moaned, a murderous scowl on his face.
“I found Arnie. Blood was everywhere, but h
e was alive. I helped him to a chair…grabbed a rag to help stop the bleeding. The longer he sat, the more his rage took over. He vowed to find Maggie, punish her, then make certain she never had a chance to come after him again.” Joel’s eyes glazed over as he recalled the hate in Arnie’s voice and heard what he planned for Maggie. “He would’ve killed her. I couldn’t let him do it.”
“So you murdered him?”
Maggie heard the deadly menace in Syd’s voice and stepped closer, ready to use the knife if needed. Joel had risked everything to protect her from Arnie. She could do no less for him.
“I did it to save Maggie.”
Before she could blink, Syd fired. Joel staggered backward, clutching his chest.
The scream ripping from Maggie’s throat seemed to come from someone else as she lunged forward, the knife plunging into Syd at the same time Joel’s gun fired, more of a reaction than a purposeful shot. Regardless, the combination of the two wounds stopped Syd, his body crumbling to the ground.
Maggie’s panicked gaze moved from Syd’s lifeless form to Joel, now on his knees, his face contorted in pain. She didn’t hear Brodie speaking her name, or register Sam and Nate rushing to help Joel. Her heart pounded hard and furious in her chest, feeling as if it were about to explode. She glanced down, the blood on her hand and skirt sickening her. An involuntary sob wracked her body, her terrified gaze landing on Brodie as his arms locked around her.
“I have you, lass. You’re safe now.” He continued to whisper reassurances, feeling Maggie’s body relax in his embrace. He watched Sam and Nate work to keep Joel alive, knowing the effort would prove futile. Even if Doc Vickery were in the room with them, the odds were slim of the lad surviving.
“Is he…”
Brodie looked into Maggie’s red-rimmed eyes, knowing what she asked. He looked at Sam, who shook his head. “Joel’s gone, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”
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