“I agree.” Lincoln pointed toward one side of the structure. “I’ll take that side, and you take the other.”
She bobbed her head in agreement and headed off in her assigned direction. She found a tree to hide behind and kept her gaze solely on the door of the structure. After a few moments, she heard John whistling ‘Yankee Doodle’ from inside of the structure.
From her vantage point, she could see Lincoln directly across from her, also behind a tree, and his pistol was drawn. His alert eyes remained fixed on the door.
A short time later, the door opened, and John walked out at a leisurely pace. He stopped, placed his hands on his suspenders and stared up at the trees. He let out a sigh as he brought his gaze down.
John had just taken a step when Amey heard Lincoln’s authoritative voice order, “Stay where you are.”
John’s eyes shot over to Lincoln, who had just emerged from hiding behind the tree. Amey could see indecision on his face.
“Don’t even think about running,” Amey stated as she stepped out from behind the tree, pointing her revolver at his chest. “Either we will catch you, or we will shoot you.”
“It’s true,” Lincoln replied. “And, frankly, it just depends on our moods. But if we do decide to shoot you, you can be sure that we never miss.”
John’s eyes grew wide as he glanced between them. “What do you want?”
Lincoln kept his gun trained at John as he walked closer to the structure and opened the door. He peered inside. “You have quite an operation here.”
John remained silent, but his eyes tracked Lincoln.
“My question is,” Lincoln continued, closing the door, “how is it possible for a seventeen-year-old boy to afford these contraptions?”
John crossed his arms over his chest. “Why should it matter to you?”
She spoke up. “Because we are Pinkerton agents, and we uphold the law.”
With wide eyes, John stared at Amey in disbelief. “Why would Pinkerton agents care if I’m making moonshine? It is hardly against the law, and everyone is doing it.”
“It is against the law, and just because some people are doing it, doesn’t make it right,” Lincoln argued. “Are you a bootlegger, too, or do you have a partner handling the distribution of the moonshine?”
John gave him a defiant look. “I’m not saying.”
“Who are you selling to?” Lincoln pressed.
“I ain’t saying nothing,” John stated with a firm set of his jaw.
Lincoln cocked his head. “What I want to know is, are you and your father working together to make moonshine?”
“No,” John replied in a firm tone. “My father knows nothing about this.”
“Do you truly expect me to believe that, especially since we are so close to his property?” Lincoln contended.
John swallowed slowly. “It’s true. My father would kill me if he ever found out.”
“Why is that?” Amey asked, walking closer to John.
John shifted his gaze toward her. “I approached my father about a year and a half ago to start making moonshine with me, and he got very aggravated. Not only does he consider alcohol to be the devil’s brew, but he stated that he never wanted to be a criminal like his cousin.”
“Yet you went ahead and did it anyway,” Lincoln pointed out.
“My money goes to help out my family,” John declared. “Without me, the bank would have foreclosed on our property months ago.”
“Where does your father think the money is coming from?” Amey asked curiously.
John sighed and lowered his gaze. “He thinks I work at the general store.”
“Do you?”
“I did, but I discovered there was more money in moonshine,” John confessed.
Lincoln shook his head. “I’m assuming you’re selling to the owner of the general store, as well as to the saloon owner.”
John opened his mouth in amazement. “How did you know that?”
“I didn’t,” Lincoln replied. “You just confirmed my suspicions. Besides, why else would the owner of the general store keep your secret?”
“That ain’t fair,” John said, pointing at him. “You’re trying to trick me.”
“Clearly, you are not the brains of this operation,” Lincoln stated dryly. “So, who gave you the money for the contraptions?”
John just pressed his lips together. “I’m not saying anything.”
“All right,” Amey replied. “We’ll just march you down to Sheriff Manley’s office and inform him that you’re making moonshine in the woods.”
John gave her a haughty look. “He can’t do nothin’ to me except report me for unpaid taxes.”
“True, but he might book you on murder charges, as well,” Amey replied nonchalantly.
John’s face paled. “Murder?” he questioned.
Amey lifted her brow. “You are aware that Doris Tiner died somewhere in these woods, and we can prove that she was near here on the day that she died.”
Putting his hands up in front of him, John rushed out, “I… uh… had nothing to do with her death.”
“But do you know who did?”
John diverted his gaze as he muttered, “No.”
Lincoln stepped closer to John. “Why is it that I don’t believe you?”
“I… don’t know, but it’s… uh… the truth,” John stammered.
Amey was about to open her mouth when an arm wrapped around her neck, and a gun was pressed against her temple
“Don’t move, or I will kill you,” a man ordered, his foul breath lingering against her cheek. “Now, drop your gun like a good girl.”
Not daring to move her head, Amey relaxed her hold on her revolver and let it drop to the ground.
The man then pointed his gun toward Lincoln. “Your turn,” he said. “Toss your gun over here.”
“No, don’t!” Amey exclaimed.
The man tightened his hold around her neck. “He has no choice,” he remarked. “If he doesn’t put his weapon down, then I will kill you.”
Lincoln kept his revolver pointed at them. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“Why is that?” the man asked.
“If I put my weapon down, there will be nothing stopping you from killing us both,” Lincoln explained.
“But if you don’t put your weapon down, then I will kill your partner,” the man declared.
Lincoln shrugged. “If you
