Beneath it were five words:
HE CREATES THE DROUGHT FIRST.
Elias took the notebook.
His face emptied.
“Daniel was investigating him.”
Clara touched the page.
“What happened before your brother died?”
“We were told cattle thieves were operating in San Perdido Canyon. Daniel insisted on joining the posse because he believed they were connected to stolen compact livestock.”
“Who provided the information?”
Elias looked toward Sheriff Vale.
Vale’s face had gone pale.
“Gideon Rusk.”
A sound came from the chapel above.
Boots against stone.
Elias extinguished the lamp.
A man’s voice drifted down the stairs.
“The vault is open.”
Another voice answered.
“Rusk said burn whatever you find.”
Elias handed the notebook to Clara.
“Behind the shelves.”
“There is no exit.”
“Move.”
Clara and Vale slipped into a narrow space behind the cedar cabinet. Elias remained near the stairs.
The first man descended carrying a lantern and a shotgun.
The second followed with a can of kerosene.
Elias waited until both reached the floor.
Then he struck.
He kicked the lantern from the first man’s hand and drove his shoulder into the second. The shotgun fired into the ceiling. Stone chips rained down.
Clara saw the kerosene can roll toward the fallen lantern.
Flame spread across the floor.
Vale lunged from hiding and dragged the can away.
The shotgun man swung the barrel toward Elias.
Clara seized a rolled map and struck the man’s wrist. It did little damage, but the surprise caused him to turn. Elias knocked him unconscious with one blow.
The second man fled up the stairs.
Vale followed.
Clara stamped at the fire with the canvas sheet while Elias gathered the ledger and notebooks.
“Go,” he ordered.
“What about the maps?”
“Take what you can.”
Smoke filled the chamber.
Clara stuffed three rolls beneath her arm. Elias lifted the cedar box. They climbed into the chapel as flames reached the lower shelves.
Outside, Sheriff Vale had caught the fleeing man near the bell frame.
The man struggled until Elias approached.
Then he stopped.
His name was Frank Darlow, a freight guard employed by Rusk.
Vale tied his hands.
“You are under arrest for attempted murder and destruction of territorial records.”
Darlow laughed breathlessly.
“You arrest me, Rusk replaces you before supper.”
“Perhaps.”
“He owns the judge.”
“Perhaps.”
“He owns half the county.”
Vale tightened the knot.
“He does not own this morning.”
They loaded the records onto the horses.
As the sun rose, Clara stood among the ruined mission stones and watched smoke drift from the vault entrance.
Elias examined Daniel’s notebook again.
“For seven years, I believed my mistake killed him.”
“You followed false information.”
“I chose to trust it.”
“Trusting a lie is not the same as creating it.”
“Dead men rarely benefit from the distinction.”
Clara moved closer.
“Daniel knew Rusk was stealing land. If Rusk sent you into that canyon, your brother may have been the intended target.”
Elias’s eyes lifted toward hers.
The possibility was worse than guilt because it gave his grief a direction.
“I should have seen it.”
“You were his brother, not his jailer.”
“I was the marshal.”
“You were a man surrounded by people who believed Gideon Rusk’s respectability was evidence of innocence.”
Elias looked across the valley.
“I spent seven years punishing myself while the man responsible continued doing exactly what Daniel tried to stop.”
“Then stop punishing yourself.”
He gave a humorless laugh.
“You make it sound simple.”
“No. I make it sound necessary.”
She held out her hand.
“Come home.”
He looked at her hand for several seconds before taking it.
Chapter Five
The Man Who Manufactured Drought
Attorney Miriam Shaw arrived from Prescott four days later.
She was forty-three, sharp-eyed, and unimpressed by nearly everything. She wore a brown traveling suit, carried two leather cases, and dismissed Rusk’s local judge as “a decorative criminal with sideburns.”
After reading the compact ledger, she ordered the dining room cleared and covered the tables with maps.
“This proves the surveys violated the compact,” she said. “It may delay foreclosure permanently. It does not yet prove conspiracy.”
“What about Daniel’s notebook?” Clara asked.
“It shows suspicion, not admissible evidence.”
“Frank Darlow confessed that Rusk ordered the records burned,” Sheriff Vale said.
“Did he name Rusk directly?”
“He said Rusk’s foreman gave the order.”
“Will he testify?”
Vale hesitated.
“He changed his statement after spending one night in jail.”
“Why?”
“His wife received a parcel containing their daughter’s blue dress.”
Miriam’s expression hardened.
“That is not a warning. It is an announcement of capacity.”
Elias stood near the window.
“We need Orson Pike.”