To Know Her by Name (46 page)

“Good morning, Mr. Stuart.” Jubal's voice couldn't have been more polite. “Mr. Phipps asked me to visit you. He sent you something.”

“Come into the office.” Richard's voice was low, his eyes shifting to see if they'd been observed by any of the bank patrons or employees. All looked in order, and the banker led the way inside.

Once in the office, Jubal took a chair as if he had all the time in the world. He brought forth the envelope and placed it gently on the desk. For a moment Richard only stared at it.

“You do understand, Mr. Stuart,” Jubal continued, his voice polite if not mildly bored, “that it's nothing personal. I have a job to do. Mr. Phipps would like to see you, and I simply can't return and tell him that you didn't want to come. You do understand, I'm sure.”

Richard Stuart licked his lips. He looked at Jubal and then at the letter before slowly picking it up. He swallowed hard, opened it, and read.

Greetings Richard:

I was surprised that you didn't accept my offer to join me in Denver. I know it would be hotter here in the city, but you never know when the temperature might change in Longmont.

I've asked an associate of mine to come back with you as I understand your failure to join me might stem from a reluctance to travel alone. I'll expect you here no later than Tuesday night. I look forward to seeing you, Richard. We have much to discuss.

It wasn't signed, and without looking at Jubal, Richard felt a chill go down his back. He had been to see Duncan in Denver some time ago, but that was before he decided to branch out on his own. Things couldn't have been friendlier. The Denver banker must now be on to him. Richard studied Jubal. There was nothing in his face or posture to indicate any threat of violence. He might have been a customer looking for a loan, but Richard believed any man Duncan sent to be capable of anything.

“I'll have to talk with my wife,” he nearly whispered.

“Certainly.” Jubal managed to look compassionate. “I must gather my own things from the hotel. Shall we meet back here in, say, 30 minutes?”

Come to the bank with his traveling bag!
Richard nearly panicked, and on the heels of this came anger. He knew he had to take back control, albeit slightly.

“No.” Richard felt relieved just saying the word. “I'll meet you at the train station, and I need an hour.”

Jubal's face was expressionless, but Richard didn't care. He was angry enough right now to physically fight this man, but he wouldn't. However, he wasn't going to let him completely control his life. His wife was going to be upset enough to have him leaving so suddenly, let alone with a half hour's notice. Not caring what Jubal thought, Richard took his jacket from the coat rack near his chair and slipped into it. He then slipped the letter into his shirt pocket. His briefcase was next. He picked it up and then looked expectantly at his visitor.

Only then did Jubal rise, and he did so slowly, still feeling he was in control. He motioned with a hand for Richard to precede him out the door, but the banker looked at him coldly.

“You may have a job to do, Mr. Hackett,” Richard said, keeping his voice low, “but this is my bank, and I am a respected citizen in this town. One call to my tellers explaining that you have threatened me, and you will be a hunted man in Longmont. Now you may still get your job done, but not without great delays and time spent behind bars. Indeed, I could probably keep you locked up for a very long time.”

Jubal's respect for the man rose. He saw no harm in letting the banker think he was having his way. Seemingly in complete compliance, Jubal preceded the banker out the door. In truth he had nothing to pick up at the hotel; he always traveled light. He would let Mr. Stuart think he was going home and to the train station on his own, but Richard would never be out of Jubal's sight.

“I've had him in my sight since six o'clock,” McKay told Trent.

“Did he go to the bank?”

“Yes.”

The men were walking the streets as if they had all the time in the world. It was a little trickier for McKay since he was known in this town, but so far few people had done more than nod and say good morning.

“My guess is that Stuart has gone home to pack his things.”

“So the train station will be next.”

“Exactly,” McKay affirmed.

“I'll meet you there.”

Trent wandered from McKay's side with the smoothest of moves, slipping into a shop, browsing for several minutes, and then exiting to head in the opposite direction—toward the train station. McKay continued his pursuit up the street, seeing that Jubal was trailing Richard. McKay wasn't so foolish as to think that he wasn't being watched as well, so he not only kept an eye on Jubal, but also on the happenings behind him. So far, so good. His palms began to sweat, which was always a good sign. The adrenaline rush of a near victory pumped through his veins. Jubal seemed completely under control. McKay knew he had him.

Denver

Gerard's words had been, “Dust the hallway.”

Pup could have sang. No one was positioned outside the office door today, and things seemed a little quieter. She started out dusting, but not even ten minutes passed before she knocked softly on the door, her ear pressed against it. Nothing. No sound at all. A moment later she was inside, locking the door just as she'd found it.

The first thing she noticed were the drapes. They had been pulled over the windows, and the room was much darker than her last visit. She debated what to do. It was going to be hard enough to figure out the secret door, let alone do it in the dark. She could light a lantern, but it would be harder to get to and blow out if she was disturbed—the window covers wouldn't be easy either.

She opted against both. Maybe her hands would tell her more than her eyes anyway. Feeling along the wall, she located the door right away. She fingered the entire seam, the inspection telling her it was a little narrower than normal. So far there was no hint of a hinge or handle. Trying to gauge which side would open, Pup moved her hand down to where a handle could be. Nothing. Not knowing how much time she had made it so hard. She would have to have some light and decided on the drapes.

Duncan Phipps, just coming from an early breakfast meeting, watched from outside as the curtains in his private office opened. Standing at his side, Nelson had seen the action as well. They couldn't make out who was standing to the side of the window, but it looked like the blonde maid.

“She must be in there by mistake,” Nelson commented.

Duncan only grunted his agreement. One of the clients with whom he was supposed to meet, a Mr. Robinson, had not shown up. His mind was also still occupied with Richard Stuart and that banker's mine stocks. Was Robinson involved? Duncan hated to be played for a fool.

“We'll just tell her to get out when we get there,” Nelson said to comfort him.

“You do that” was the banker's automatic reply. Duncan gave it no other thought. Nelson looked forward to throwing her out again. The men continued their almost leisurely walk toward the house.

38

Longmont

“Mr. Stuart,” McKay approached the man and his companion, his voice almost gentle. “May I speak with you?”

Richard Stuart turned, his anxious face relaxing when he recognized McKay. After the inspection, he'd never heard back from the treasury man and assumed that he'd done a good job on the books.

“Hello, McKay.”

“I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I need to speak to you. Could you come into the railway office?”

“As a matter of fact—” Richard began. He was going to tell them he was headed out of town, but Jubal cut in smoothly.

“He'd like to, but something important has come up. We're headed to Denver.” As always his voice was calm. Not above lying, he still believed in telling the truth for as long as possible. “Maybe when he returns you can see him about your loan or whatever you need.”

“I quite agree with you, Mr. Hackett; the two of you will be going to Denver, but not exactly the way you'd planned.”

The quiet sound of Jubal's name coming from this man's lips registered just a second too late. His hand was reaching for his inside coat pocket, but another voice spoke into his ear.

“Don't even think about it,” Trent told him, a gun surreptitiously pressed into his side. “Just head to the railway office as you've been asked. That's right; keep those hands where I can see them.”

McKay led the way and was not at all surprised to see Stuart's expression showing his quandary: Had he been caught, or was this a rescue? Jubal's face showed nothing at all. For a moment he had lost his calm, but he was now back under control, walking to the stage office as though he visited there often.

Denver

She had found the latch. She wouldn't have found it without the light, but now her hand was on it. It was a narrow strip of wood so subtly put into the wall that it was nearly impossible to see. At the top was an opening. Pup put her finger inside the half-moon hole and pulled down. The door opened with a low groan, one that disguised the unlocking and opening of the outside door. She was in the process of pulling the paneled doorway open when Duncan spoke.

“Well, now—we thought you'd come to dust.”

Pup spun, her heart thudding in fear. She recovered swiftly, picking up the dust cloth at her feet, and began to babble in her Swedish accent.

“Inga broke, Inga sorry, so sorry,” and on she went, practically crying as she rubbed the cloth up and down the wall to show what she'd been doing. Amazingly her story worked. Eyeing her coldly, Duncan told Nelson to get her out.

Nelson came forward, more than happy to oblige, but in his enthusiasm he grabbed her arm and violently jerked her whole body forward. She felt her wig slip down onto her forehead and was afraid to touch it lest she draw attention. Pup didn't think she would be spotted, but Duncan must have been looking directly at her. He raised his voice for the first time.