Claimed (The Flash Gold Chronicles, #4) (12 page)

He tugged the vent into place behind him, then crept toward the edge of the loft. It might not be dark out yet, but the mill’s interior was dim, even with the numerous lanterns mounted on the walls and posts. The boiler, furnace, and engine powering the blade lay beneath the loft on the river side of the mill. The machinery created deep shadows, and he quickly identified it as a spot where he could hide if he was careful. Several workers moved about down there. They were busy maneuvering the logs onto the rails leading to the big circular saw, and nobody was looking up. More piles of lumber were stacked along other walls, and dunes of sawdust littered the floor around the saw. The men working near the blade wore bandanas over their mouths and noses.

Little light made its way up to the loft, making it a decent place from which to spy. A couple of doors in the corner near the front wall drew his gaze. One or both ought to be the foreman’s or owner’s office, places where someone like Cudgel might lurk to observe the meeting. Also places where there could be paperwork that would tie the criminal to this place—the mill hadn’t been open more than a few weeks. In fact, Cedar was quite certain it had opened after Cudgel came to town.

He drummed his fingers on a dusty floorboard. Investigate now, or wait? If Kali had seen something in the street, Andrews and those he was meeting with might walk in at any second. That might distract the workers, making it easier for Cedar to creep into those rooms without being noticed.

A few moments passed without anyone coming in the front door, and he made his decision. Cedar watched the flow of workers for a moment, then flipped down from above, landing lightly on the wood floor near the wall.

Both of the doors were open, but the offices inside were dark, the foreman having likely gone home for the day. One full of filing cabinets and shelves appeared to be more for storage, so Cedar slipped into the other, the shadows swallowing him from view by anyone who might glance in that direction.

The office was empty save for a desk, chairs, cabinets, and—he sniffed—a tin of something that smelled like fish eggs. In the dark, he couldn’t see more than the outlines of the furnishings, but his nose guided him to a little table where he identified caviar, a box of cigars, and a wine bottle. Perhaps the Honest and Earnest Holding Company treated its rich clients to fancy victuals after the deal was signed. Or maybe the foreman was expecting an important guest later... Cedar had been following Cudgel long enough to know he had expensive tastes.

Though he didn’t have a sensation of being watched, he walked around the office, sticking his hand into the corners and listening for the footsteps of someone moving out of the way. It made him feel silly, but he had seen the effects of that powder on his own fingers.

Someone walked past the office door. Cedar halted his search and eased into a shadowy corner. The person carried a few broken pieces of wood to a crate labeled scrap. Cedar would have liked to have shut the door, but that might be noticed. He waited a moment, until the wandering worker returned to his task, then, after he was convinced nobody was in the office with him, searched the desk drawers. There wasn’t much in them, but he found a couple of checks tucked into a ledger book. He tilted the paper toward the light seeping through the doorway. And forgot to breathe.

Terrance Conrath. He had seen the name before. It was one of Cudgel’s aliases. Or maybe it was even his true name. All Cedar knew was that he had read it in a newspaper article once, when he had been researching his enemy’s past.

He closed the book and the drawer, leaving the checks inside. Had the simple trick with Andrews truly let him stumble onto Cudgel’s lair? Or was this even now some trap that he had walked into? Either way, Cedar knew one of Cudgel’s secrets now and had a way to combat the invisibility powder. His hand strayed to his back, touching the air gun. All he had to do was chance to hit his man.

The big saw stopped, the silence abrupt. Cedar froze.

A few murmurs came from the work floor, but nothing he could make out. He eased to the door. The men who had been working the saw were still there, but they had turned toward the entrance.

“You men clear out for the night,” someone said. “The owner is coming for a meeting.”

“Our pay getting docked?” a beefy worker in Cedar’s line of sight asked, jamming a fist against his hip.

“Nope, this looks to be another lucrative meeting.” The unseen speaker, a foreman or manager, Cedar assumed, chuckled.

Men slapped each other on the backs, tossed bandanas onto wood piles, and streamed for the door, talks of finding beer on their lips. Cedar decided he should leave the office before whoever was giving orders decided to come sample the caviar.

He leaned an eyeball around the jamb. The men were trooping out, and the remaining fellow, someone in wool clothing that hadn’t seen dust or mud, stood by the door, holding it open and looking out toward the street. Cedar took the opportunity to slip out. He glanced toward the loft, thinking to jump back up there, but the piles of sawdust around the cutting equipment caught his eye. Using the machinery for cover, he grabbed a few handfuls of the fine chips. The foreman took a step onto the porch, lifting a hand to someone. Cedar returned to the office for long enough to scatter the sawdust in front of the doorway. Not a trap exactly, but if someone invisible were to pass that way, the piles should be stirred.

Footsteps sounded on the walkway beyond the front door.

“It’s ready for you,” the foreman said.

Cedar darted back toward the machinery a second before several men walked through the door. He crouched beside the furnace. The side of the saw blade, not to mention a giant log poised for a cutting, blocked much of his view, but he saw enough... and his stomach clenched.

Andrews walked in, as expected, but Kali walked in too. She wasn’t wearing any kind of costume, and her satchel and Winchester were gone. Had been taken away, he corrected, as two scrappy-looking men walked in behind her, carrying guns. The weapons were aimed at
her
back, not at Andrews.

It might have been unintended, or she might have put up more of a fight than he had, but Cedar’s blood was chilling in his veins. If the newspaper kid had betrayed her, he would wring that scrawny little neck.

Two more men walked in after the toughs, their sleek wool jackets more suggestive of business establishments than back alleys—or sawmills. But they were also armed. The six-shooters were holstered at their belts, but they could doubtlessly draw them quickly enough.

In the shadows behind the saw, Cedar reached for his rifle, though he hesitated. Would the air gun be the better option? Was an unseen Cudgel somewhere in the group?

One of the men behind Kali bumped her in the back with his rifle. “Over there. In the light.”

His ire returned at seeing her prodded with the gun. He slid his Winchester free. He would get Kali out of danger first and worry about Cudgel later.

Cedar considered his odds of shooting four men before they could shoot him—or Kali. Even though he had cover and might survive the gunfight unscathed, she was out in the open.

Andrews was too. When he passed through the light, Cedar spotted blood on his collar and a knot swelling on the side of his face. He might not have betrayed Kali willingly, but Cedar had a hard time forgiving him for the act, regardless. If a bunch of thugs pinned
him
down and started beating him, they would have to do a lot more than punch him a couple of times to get him to spill information about a friend. More than a friend.

A fifth man strode in the door, and Cedar groaned inwardly. How many people were coming to this meeting? He hoped he hadn’t missed his best opportunity to attack. The new man, however, merely walked to the office. Cedar sank lower into the shadows—from the office, he was more clearly visible than he would be from the front door area. The new fellow didn’t look in his direction; he was carrying a bucket of ice and turned straight into the office. Ice? Scraped freshly off a glacier? Or stored in some ice house in town? Maybe that bottle of wine Cedar had seen was actually champagne. One wouldn’t want one’s boss drinking a lukewarm beverage...

“I guess this means you aren’t interested in selling Travis a claim,” Kali said to the man Cedar had pegged as a foreman. His straight black hair fell to his shoulders, and he wore a cowboy hat with a feather sticking out of the side. He looked like he might have some Indian blood in him, but nothing about Kali’s stance suggested she recognized him. Of course, she was busy scowling at Andrews and wasn’t looking at the foreman as she spoke.

Andrews shrank under that stare, looking more cowed by her than he was by the gunslingers.

The ice man walked out of the office, his feet stirring the piles of sawdust in front of the door. At this point, Cedar had his rifle across his knees and was itching to shoot someone. He thought about grabbing the man and hauling him into the shadows behind the boiler for questioning, but doubted the lackey would know anything. Besides, with the saw turned off, there wasn’t much noise in the mill. His actions might be heard.

“Funny, but I hear that’s not what you’re really here for,” the foreman said. “The owner had a little chat with your beau there.”

Kali clenched her jaw. Cedar expected her to say that Andrews wasn’t her beau, but all she did was glare.

“And then we found you and your beefy friend lurking outside of my mill.” The foreman fished in his pocket, pulled out a cigarette case, and extricated paper and tobacco for rolling a fresh smoke. “Like the kid said you’d be.”

Beefy friend? Was that supposed to be Cedar? But they hadn’t
seen
him.

“Sorry, Kali,” Andrews whispered. “I thought they believed me about wanting to buy, but their bullies showed up five minutes before I aimed to leave tonight and... questioned me. With fists.”

There wasn’t much forgiveness in the way Kali’s lips thinned, but she didn’t accuse him of being a spineless soot rag, the way Cedar would have. All right, his words would have been stronger than that.

“The owner isn’t stupid. He knows who’s friends with who around here.” The foreman used a wall lantern to light his cigarette and stuck it in his mouth. The scent of burning tobacco wafted into the air. “As soon as your friend is caught, I expect the owner will be along to start this meeting.”

Caught? They thought Cedar was out running from some thugs? If that was true, he would have to thank Kali for that—she must have tricked her captors into thinking he had run away right before they showed up. They wouldn’t search forever, though, especially if they didn’t find any evidence of him out there. He had to act quickly. Also, his thighs were starting to burn from crouching in the shadows—he could wait through the discomfort if he had to, but taking action... that would be better. He rested his rifle on the top of the log, taking a bead on the foreman, and groped for a way to catch Kali’s eye without alerting anyone else to his presence. All he needed was for her to run and throw herself behind some lumber as soon as he started shooting, anything to get out of the way. She might think to do that anyway, but maybe not. The men might have taken her visible weapons, but she had a hand in her pocket, and he wagered one of her smoke nuts was nestled down there.

“Actually,” a voice came from beyond the front door, “we can start this meeting right now.”

A man in a white suit walked in, his alligator-skin boots thudding on the bare floor.

After a heartbeat of shocked stillness, Cedar coolly and calmly shifted the aim of his rifle. He almost shot immediately, but he noticed two things right away, two things that stayed his hand. First off, something with a metallic glint poked out of the top of Cudgel’s shirt, something Cedar recognized because he had seen it before: a skillfully crafted chain mesh vest that was capable of stopping a bullet. Cedar knew because it had stopped one of
his
bullets once. The second thing... was that Cudgel was carrying flash gold. Not a vial with a tiny flake in it, but a big block about half the size of the one Kali had. From the way he cradled it close to his body, his arm flexed to support it, it was clearly real gold—and heavy—but more than its weight gave it away. Light glowed from the ore, and blue streaks of energy ran up his arm and danced all around him. Cedar’s first thought was that Cudgel had somehow obtained some of his own flash gold, but when Kali’s mouth tumbled open, he realized the truth... Cudgel must have found her stash and stolen it, cutting the big bar in half so he could bring it along. Yes, the edges even had some scrapes from where Kali had shaved off pieces to use in smaller projects.

Almost immediately, she snapped her mouth shut and masked her face, but Cedar knew her well enough to read the rage behind her dark eyes. Yes, that was
her
gold, her secret energy source with which she planned to power her dream.

“Kartes has nothing to do with the negotiations we are about to have,” Cudgel said. “I’ve ordered my men to shoot him as soon as they find him.”

“That right?” Kali asked. “That tactic hasn’t worked powerful well for you in the past.”

Cudgel smiled thinly. “A sardine can’t evade a fisherman’s net forever.”

Sardine? Cedar kept his growl internal and shifted his aim. If he couldn’t shoot Cudgel in the chest, the face was always a valid option. Except... if Cedar killed him, would Kali ever find the other half of her flash gold stash? Cudgel would have hidden it, of course, and, given its value, may not have told another soul where. To Cedar, it seemed a small price to pay for the death of a criminal who had killed so many and brought pain and suffering to countless others, but could he make that choice? Did he have the right?

His finger tightened on the trigger. He would kill Cudgel, then find the rest of the flash gold for her, one way or another.

“But you’re here,” Cudgel said, stepping forward. A post blocked him from Cedar’s sights. “And I’d like to make you an offer.”

“What’s that?” Kali jammed her hands into her pockets and stared the man in the face without fear.