Silver Lies (30 page)

Abe crossed his arms and watched Inez flush scarlet. "Like I said.
Your
reverend. You sure you know what you’re doin’, Inez?"

Inez stood with all the dignity at her disposal. "Don’t start seeing things that aren’t there, Abe. That goes for you too, Bridgette. I’m off for Fryer Hill. I’ll be back by
noon
."

999

Once in the office, Inez pulled out the two burlap bags from the safe, opened one, and peered inside.
Rocks. Rocks that could signal a fortune.

An inner voice, which sounded suspiciously like her mother’s, demanded to know what she thought she was doing as she removed a couple of fist-sized chunks from each bag.
What if,
Inez argued silently with the voice,
Joe cut a deal with Chet and bought a percentage of the claim with the loan money. If I get these rocks assayed, and if they fit the results in Joe’s assay notes, and if I can find proof of an agreement, Emma and Joey stand to benefit.

A lot of "ifs" and a shaky legal position, at best. But the voice in her head had no doubt about the moral position of her actions. "Put those back!" it hissed. "Ladies do not steal! Ladies are the moral standard."

Inez had practice ignoring that voice. She placed the rocks in two small flour sacks, pushed the sacks into the safe, and clanged the door shut.
Now for a ride up Fryer Hill.

999

Inez always marveled at the anonymity a set of clothes brought her. Wearing Mark’s old sheepskin jacket and canvas pants, a slouch hat pulled down low and a neckerchief pulled up tight, she was just another b’hoy, shotgun slung by the saddle, riding up to Fryer Hill.

Once past the
Silver
Mountain
turnoff, she veered onto a less traveled road winding around the shoulder of the hill. Evidence of mining activity appeared: skeletons of timber headframes black against the snow, mounds of tailings, and hastily constructed shanties, apparently empty. She puzzled at the inactivity, then remembered.
Ah yes. Harry owns all this now. He’s probably busy extending
Silver
Mountain
’s underground workings.

They rounded a snow-capped bend and Inez reined Lucy to a stop. They’d almost plowed into a rig, its horse hitched to a rickety shanty. Chet’s roan and two shaggy ponies stood

nearby.
Probably the twins’. Now where have I seen this rig before?

Inez admired the sleek black horse before tying off Lucy by the rig. The wind shifted, and a voice from beyond the cabin said, "…last offer. Harry’s being more than generous. His offer’s twice what the claim’s worth, even if the assay results prove valid."

Inez glanced again at the handsome horse, chewing on its bit.
Cooper’s rig. He must be trying to cut a deal for Harry.

"Haw!" That was Chet’s characteristic snort. "I got Harry by the short hairs. Them assays are good. He can drag his feet all winter, takin’ samples and splittin’ assays. Our price’ll just keep goin’ up."

The wind shifted, swallowing Cooper’s reply.

Inez inched around the back of shanty, squeezing between the log wall and a towering ice-crusted snowbank.
If I can reach the far corner, I might be able to hear better.

Cooper’s voice returned. "Thirty thousand. Take it or I wash my hands of this deal. I’ll not be a party to what Harry’s got planned for you and your partners if you turn it down."

"Haw!" This time, Chet’s guffaw was triumphant. "Shake on it, Cooper! Hey Zeke! Come on down! We got a deal with that devil Gallagher!"

Inez almost missed the last sentence as snow avalanched down over her hat. That shower was nothing, however, compared to the heavy weight that hit her shoulders and drove her to the ground. She yelped, getting a mouthful of crusty snow for her efforts. She started to push herself up only to feel the unmistakable bite of a gun muzzle in the back of her neck.

"Don’t move or I’ll ventilate ya, ya varmint!" Zeke’s nasal whine shook with indignation. He jerked her to her feet, then marched her out into the open. "Chet! Lookit this! Harry sends his fancy-pants lawyer to sweet-talk us into a deal, and one of his damn flunkies to bowdlerize us, if ’n we don’t agree."

Chet and Cooper swung startled faces toward Inez. Looking ready to explode, Chet snarled, "Talk fast, mister lawyer."

He reached for the gun under his tattered jacket. Cooper held out his hands—whether to show he wasn’t interested in a gun battle or to show his confusion, Inez didn’t wait to find out.

"You idiots!" she shrieked. "I am
not
one of Harry’s flunkies!"

The pressure disappeared from the base of her skull.

Zeke spun her around. His face, slack with surprise, showed white where sweat streaked the grime. "Jumpin’ Jehosephat, he’s a female!"

"Let go of me!" Inez spat.

Zeke let go and stepped back, gun hanging from one hand.

She turned to Chet. "If I’d any intention of ‘bowdlerizing’ you, I would’ve come armed." She yanked open her coat to show that she had no gun. "My shotgun is on my horse. Along with the sample bags you’ve been hounding me about."

Cooper, who had regained his composure, bowed slightly and lifted his hat in courteous irony. "Mrs. Stannert. An unexpected pleasure."

"Huh. Pay her no mind," Chet growled. "Ya got your deal, Cooper. I’ll even throw in the burro." He twitched his head toward the dispirited beast, which was nosing halfheartedly at the hardpacked snow by the windlass.

"I’ll relay your generosity to Mr. Gallagher," said Cooper.

"Hey Zeke, go holler down the shaft to that no-account brother of yours. We’re gonna celebrate, yessiree. So when do we get the money?" Chet zeroed in on Cooper.

Cooper shrugged, elegant in his fur-trimmed cashmere coat. "Today, if you wish. The paperwork’s in the rig. I fill in the amount, you three sign, and I get Harry’s signature. I’ll complete the necessary paperwork for the property transfer in town. I don’t imagine," he added, sarcasm sliding through his words, "that you’d agree to abandon your post before you have the finished documents in hand. And the money."

"Damn tootin’. Zed and his shotgun stay underground ’til we get the dough."

"Before sunset, then."

Chet’s brown teeth snagged on a maniacal grin. "Thirty thousand smackeroos! Look out ladies of State Street!"

Cooper turned toward Inez. "Mrs. Stannert, would you like me to accompany you back to town after I get these gentlemen’s signatures?"

Inez nodded. No way did she want to be left alone on that solitary hill with Chet and the twins. Particularly with her shotgun still hanging on Lucy.

They all crunched through the snow to the horses. Reaching into his rig, Cooper pulled out a portable writing desk, paperwork, pen, and ink.

After signing, Chet fingered his tatty gray beard, avarice lending a beatific afterglow to his face. "Now. Them bags, Miz Stannert?"

Inez returned to Lucy and pulled them out of her saddlebags along with a five-dollar gold piece. "For the assays Joe never did."

"Hell, woman, keep it. Give it to Joe’s widder. Come sundown, I’m ten thousand dollars richer." Chet hefted the bags, tender as a mother with a babe.

"A new stake, Chet? Anything you might sell at a later date?" Cooper’s easy voice seemed to jolt him back to the present.

"Naw." Chet paused. "Just a piece-a-shit claim not worth spit."

His gaze slitted back to Inez, sly.

Ha! Piece-of-shit claim my foot. He’s holding aces and trying to pass it as a worthless hand.

Chet’s little red eyes suddenly bloomed with light. "Hey, Mrs. Stannert. What’s it take to play in your high-falutin’ poker game?"

"Take a bath," she retorted. "Get some decent clothes. Show up sober. And with cash. We don’t take credit."

By ten o’clock Saturday night, Chet had not showed at the Silver Queen. At the poker table, Inez began to breathe easier.

The saloon had buzzed all day with talk about Chet’s and the twins’ sudden wealth. How they’d bought drinks for the house here, gone on a buying spree there. The three seemed to be spending their new-found fortune as fast as they could.

Some folks wondered aloud—but not too loud—if Harry had been played for a fool. Most kept their counsel. Time would tell if Harry had thrown away his thirty thousand or if he’d invested well.

The evening progressed at a leisurely pace. Cooper, ever the gentleman, uttered not a word about the embarrassing mishap of the previous day. Evan was in quiet good humor, being top man so far that evening. Doc imbibed brandy at a rate directly proportional to his small but steady losses. Jed was absent. As for Harry…

He certainly doesn’t act like he signed a check yesterday for thirty thousand dollars.

She caught herself wondering if Sands might stop in at midnight.

Her musings were interrupted by a ruckus outside the door. Useless poked his head around the corner, greasy hair plastered over his ears, eyes wide. "Ma’am, Chet Donnelly’s here and—"

Useless was yanked from view from behind. A figure filled the doorway.

"Howdy. Is this the high-rollin’, no-limit poker game?"

Inez’s first thought was:
Chet has a chin.

His scraggly, to-the-navel beard was gone, replaced by a short-cropped grizzled fuzz. Gone, too, were the baggy corduroys, worn jacket, and shapeless hat. Instead, his enormous belly strained at the pearl buttons of a scarlet and gold waistcoat peeping out from under a formal, black evening suit the size of a small tent. A silk top hat perched atop hair cut short and pomaded to within an inch of its life. Of the original Chet Donnelly, only three things remained: bloodshot eyes, scarred leather gunbelt cinched tight under the swallow-tail jacket, and worn-out boots crammed on over the black dress pants.

Except for boots and belt, he’d have done the opera crowd proud.

"Lessee if I got it right. Bath. New clothes. Sober." He dug out a roll from his pocket and thumbed it with a snarky smile. "Money. And you’ve got an empty chair waitin’ for me."

Inez took stock of the table. Cooper and Harry appeared bemused. Doc’s eyebrows were raised so high they disappeared into the wrinkled topology of his forehead. Evan sat frozen, cigar raised halfway to his mouth.