Looking out over the group of about ten men who’d volunteered to search, he began gesturing. “You three stay together and head south. Stinson, you’ll be the leader.”
The older man nodded. “Come on you two. Let’s get horses and head out.”
Fred assigned two more groups to the east and west, saving the north for himself and Cully. The farm lay north and he wanted to look at the buggy tracks. Maybe he would see something that Holder had missed.
Morrison stayed behind, intent on watching Strong’s movements. Fred didn’t argue even though he doubted the banker would give away anything that might help the detective. He’d watched the man for weeks and hadn’t picked up on anything to connect him to the disappearance of girls. Nothing, that is, except the use of his buggy by Hansen and Murphy’s spying at Strong’s request.
That hardly constituted enough evidence to arrest the man. The spying was easily connected to the election. The buggy could have been borrowed without the banker’s knowledge. Hansen was crafty enough to lie to the livery owner and say he had permission to use the vehicle and the horses.
No, Fred didn’t think Morrison would learn anything by watching Fred’s opponent. A suspicion had bloomed in his sheriff’s mind as Fred watched the men this week. Something was off about the mayor. He warranted studying. Fred would recommend that to Morrison before leaving town.
Stinson’s helper led Fred’s tall gelding to him. Cully already stood with the reins of his horse in hand, ready to ride out. At a nod from his boss, the deputy and Fred both mounted.
Skirting around the knot of people in front of the mercantile, he rode carefully. Once they were clear of the group, Fred touched his heels to his horse, asking for greater speed. Hooves flew as they raced north.
Frantically waving arms had him pulling back on the reins, struggling to stop. For over a year, Carl had acted oddly. Fred had been sure that was all in the past, so why was the man jumping up and down like a crazy person?
Cully flew past him with a dumbfounded expression twisting his face. By the time the deputy turned his horse and came back, Fred had dismounted and grabbed his younger brother by the collar.
“What’s up with you? Relapsed into the crazies?”
Carl wriggled free from the grip on his shirt and scowled. “Lay off. I got someone here you need to see.”
Figuring Carl had a witness Fred needed to interview for clues to Lilah’s whereabouts, he gave a short bob of his head. Carl turned and stomped through the back door of his store, obviously still miffed about Fred’s roughness.
Inside the dark storeroom at the back of the mercantile, Fred squinted as he peered into the gloom. “So where’s this witness?”
“Witness? I’ve got your wife, brother!”
Relief. Joy. Need. They rushed through Fred like a bucket of warm water. He watched as Lilah stepped out of the shadows, followed by a black-haired girl.
His wife looked at him shyly. He didn’t hesitate, catching her up into a hug that lifted her feet from the floor. In front of God and company, Fred captured her mouth in a fierce kiss that softened almost immediately. He groaned as he continued to taste joy and love on her lips.
Pulling away, he memorized her face. Even in the dimness of the storeroom, he recognized the damage done to her cheek and scowled. “I’ll find the man who did this to you. Tell me who.”
Whimpering softly, Lilah hugged him tightly now around the waist. “I only saw the mayor. He’s the one who hit Charity.”
Fred’s gaze reluctantly left his wife’s face and turned to the other victim. She nodded. “Yes, Ledbetter. He’s the head of the bunch. But also a man named Hansen.”
With a brief tip of his chin downward to let the Pinkerton agent know he’d heard her, Fred’s eyes again drank in the sight of his wife. Squeezing her, he bent his head and whispered a prayer of thankfulness into her ear. She softly said, “Amen.”
Turning to his brother, Fred grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, Carl, for being rough back there.”
“Okay, you’re forgiven. Now, what do we do about the mayor? He’s sent most of the men who might help you out of town.”
“Go outside and find Morrison. He’ll be in the shadows somewhere near the banker. With his help, that makes four of us who know our way around a gun.”
A snort brought all eyes to Charity. “Five. Give me a gun.”
Fred nodded. “Five. That is, if you have guns and ammunition for us, Carl.”
“Gladly.” Carl snickered, “I think I’ll charge them to the mayor’s account. I’m sure the banker will settle up from that man’s funds once this is over.”
Each told Carl what weapon he or she wanted. Fred didn’t want to reveal himself yet, since he supposedly rode out of town so none of them went into the store to pick out the weapons. Charity surprised him by asking for a palm pistol, something only recently invented. With the girl’s brashness, he’d expected her to want a Colt or a shotgun.
Once the five were armed, Fred embraced his wife again, kissing her soft hair. “Stay here. Hidden and safe. I can’t focus on what I need to do if I’m afraid for you.”
She gave him a lopsided grin since her cheek was swollen. “I am your helpmate. If that’s the help you want, who am I to argue?”
After a gentle squeeze, he pulled away. He was still close enough to make out her muttered words.
“I knew it! He wants me as his wife.”
Who was Fred to argue
