Romancing The Runaway Bride. Karen Kirst

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      “Before you read me the riot act, stop and think.” Russell held up a staying hand. “You must agree that I had to ask.”

      “You asked me a personal question in front of a suspect,” Adam gritted, the annoyance he’d felt at the fund-raiser rushing to the surface.

      “I’m a lawyer who specializes in assisting veterans. It would’ve raised suspicions if I hadn’t asked.” His frown became an unhappy slash in his face. “Wait, did you say suspect? Surely you don’t think Deborah Frazier is capable of consorting with a blackguard like Ogden!”

      “Lower your voice.” Adam scanned both sides of the alley behind the mercantile and the street running alongside the church behind them.

      “She’s not involved,” Russell insisted, his hazel eyes confident.

      “I don’t know enough yet to draw that conclusion.”

      “You just rode into town. Anna and I have gotten to know her over the course of the last eight weeks. She’s got a heart of gold.”

      That had been his impression, as well. His wish. But the fact was he didn’t truly know her or what she might be capable of.

      “Three weeks ago, I was wrapping up a case in Centerville when I got a message from one of my closest colleagues. Dayton’s one of the few people I’ve told about our past. While pursuing a lead in a murder, he heard some cowboys grumbling about losing their jobs because their owners had to up and sell at a moment’s notice. The situation sounded similar to Big Bend’s, so he contacted me. Together, we did some digging and learned that an entrepreneur who called himself Thaddeus Jones had been dispensing loans to the locals.”

      “Let me guess,” Russell bit out. “Just like in Big Bend, the locals failed to read the fine print. He charged them high interest rates and put their ranches up as collateral.”

      “Exactly. He’d already skipped town by the time I got there, but I did manage to locate the house he’d been renting.” The sharp disappointment he’d experienced filled him anew. He’d walked through the very rooms his nemesis had inhabited with the knowledge he’d been a couple of days too late. “In the living room fireplace, I salvaged a scrap of paper that led me to Cowboy Creek.”

      When he explained the significance of the signature, Russell gave him a hooded look. “You suspect Deborah because her name begins with D? Couldn’t it be someone named Diana or Desiree? David? Dustin—”

      “I know it’s not much to go on, all right? But the people I interviewed insisted he was in cahoots with a female. The description matches. Young and attractive, dark brown hair, elegant clothes. Unfortunately, she didn’t mingle with the locals. She stuck to Ogden’s side like glue.”

      Russell’s gaze followed a buggy as it rolled past the church. He shook his head. “I’m aware of the Pinkertons’ reputation. And you’ve proven yourself a worthy detective, otherwise you would’ve been cut loose a long time ago. But I urge you not to rush judgments on this one. Don’t let your obsession with Ogden make you sloppy.”

      “I am not obsessed.”

      “Aren’t you? Has a single day gone by these past nine years when you haven’t thought about him? Imagined making him pay for what he did?”

      His brother was speaking the truth, and it was difficult to hear. The implication was that Seth and Russ had moved on with their lives, while he’d remained stagnant.

      Adam ripped off his Stetson and slapped it against his thigh. His older brother taking him to task hauled him back to his adolescent years. Being the youngest hadn’t set well with him. He’d balked whenever Seth and Russell had tried to boss him around. That was one aspect of leaving he hadn’t minded—people had treated him as his own man, not as the youngest Halloway boy.

      “Adam, I’ve seen innocent people punished for crimes they didn’t commit. I’d hate for that to happen in this case.”

      He met his brother’s solemn gaze. “Believe me, I’m aware of the pitfalls and am making concessions.”

      Russell gripped his shoulder. “I want answers, too. I’ll help you any way I can. Come by for supper tonight. Meet Anna proper-like.”

      “I wish I could, but I have to stay close to Deborah.”

      “You can spare an hour this afternoon, can’t you?”

      “I would like to speak to my new sister-in-law without worrying who’s listening. Three o’clock?”

      “I’ll close the office early.”

      They said their goodbyes, and Adam headed for the Mitchell Coal & Mining Company. Jason Mitchell welcomed him into his office with polite formality. Waving him into a chair, he resumed his spot behind the desk cluttered with papers.

      “What can I do for you, Mr. Draper?”

      “I promise not to take up much of your time.” He did a quick inventory of the cramped space. “Based on our brief exchange yesterday, I thought you might have insight into the area’s property shortage. I visited the land office earlier and was met with discouraging news.”

      Sinking against the dull leather chair, Jason steepled his hands. “It’s like I told you at the fund-raiser. The Maroni brothers are greedier than most. I’ve been in this business a while. Competition’s normal. Even healthy.” He rubbed at a coffee stain ingrained in the desk. “These men are different.”

      “How so?”

      “First off, I’ve yet to set eyes on them. Only the land office clerk and the ranchers who’ve done business with them have spoken to them face-to-face.”

      Adam wet his lips. Ogden could’ve gotten another accomplice, a man this time. “Maybe they like their privacy.”

      “Maybe.” Jason’s eyes hardened. “Or maybe they’ve got something to hide.”

      “Don’t they have a temporary office set up? Somewhere to conduct business?”

      “They were staying at The Lariat, but I haven’t managed to get a meeting with them.” He sighed and drummed his fingers against the wood. “There have been too many ranchers forced off their land. Not a coincidence, if you ask me.”

      Adam adopted an expression of disbelief. “Are you suggesting the Maronis orchestrated accidents to get their hands on land they think is rich with coal?”

      “I do.”

      “Have you gone to the sheriff with your suspicions?”

      He rolled his eyes. “The new sheriff is an incompetent oaf. Folks aren’t happy that the previous sheriff, Buck Hanley, abandoned the job to go into business for himself.”

      Adam would have to pay the sheriff a visit and make his own observations. “Not what I wanted to hear, but I thank you for your candor.”

      “Cowboy Creek’s a fine place to live, but it won’t support an operation like yours. Not with the hunt for coal. You’ll have better success somewhere else.”

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