Chapter 9 - Victor Hale
Victor Hale looked nothing like the villain Eli had imagined.
That bothered him.
Hale was fifty, maybe slightly older.
Clean gray coat.
Polished boots.
Carefully trimmed beard.
He sat beneath the awning outside the town hotel drinking coffee as though he had never pursued anyone through a canyon in his life.
Eli approached alone.
Chaska, Waya, and Serina remained across the street.
Not because Eli wanted them protected.
Because Chaska insisted Hale reveal what he knew without being distracted by their presence.
Hale looked up.
“Elijah Mercer.”
“No middle initial.”
Hale smiled.
“I've heard.”
Eli sat without invitation.
“Did you rob the clerk's office?”
“No.”
“Did you send someone to my ranch last night?”
“No.”
“Were you in Red Knife Canyon in August sixty-nine?”
Hale stirred his coffee.
“Yes.”
The direct answer surprised Eli.
“Why?”
“Surveying.”
“Land you didn't own.”
“Land I intended to buy.”
“From my father?”
“From whoever was intelligent enough to sell.”
Eli's hands remained beneath the table.
“Did you chase three women?”
Hale's spoon stopped.
Across the street, Chaska saw it.
“I chased witnesses who misunderstood private business.”
“Women.”
“I don't remember.”
“That's convenient.”
“It's been ten years.”
“I remember.”
Hale looked at him.
“Yes.”
A faint smile appeared.
“You were the boy on the gray horse.”
“I was twenty-three.”
“You looked younger.”
“You looked smaller from behind.”
The smile disappeared.
Good.
Eli leaned forward.
“You knew Gideon.”
“Of course.”
“How long?”
“Most of my adult life.”
“San Aurelio?”
Hale said nothing.
Eli continued.
“It existed in seventy-two.”
“Yes.”
“Why did it pay the filing fee on my mortgage?”
“Investment.”
“In my debt?”
“In opportunity.”
There it was.
No denial.
“Did Gideon sell you my ranch?”
“No.”
“He promised it?”
Hale drank coffee.
“Your uncle understood probabilities.”
“What probability?”
“That you would fail.”
The words struck hard.
Hale saw it.
“He said you had your father's stubbornness without his discipline.”
Eli kept his face still.
“He also said you'd never accept help until it was too late.”
Across the street, Waya muttered, “He knows him.”
Chaska nodded.
Hale continued.
“Your father made the same mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“He believed principles made land valuable.”
“What do you believe?”
“Scarcity.”
Hale looked toward the distant red cliffs.
“Water. Routes. Minerals. Rail corridors. Scarcity makes value.”
“So the spring exists.”
Hale smiled again.
Eli had caught him.
“Yes.”
The admission altered everything.
“Where?”
“On land you currently own.”
“Currently.”
“Twenty-one days is a long time.”
“Not if your paperwork is forged.”
Hale's expression remained calm.
“Prove it.”
Eli studied him.
“You're not worried.”
“I don't need to be.”
“Why?”
“Because your father's records are incomplete.”
Eli felt a chill.
Hale knew about the box.
“Missing pages?”
For the first time, Hale's eyes sharpened.
Eli had guessed correctly.
“You have them?”
“No.”
“Gideon?”
Hale placed the cup down.
“You think your uncle and I are partners.”
“Aren't you?”
“We have common interests.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“It is the only one you're getting.”
Eli stood.
Hale spoke again.
“Ask your friends why they truly came back.”
Eli stopped.
Across the street Chaska stiffened.
Hale continued.
“You think gratitude carried them ten years?”
“What are you implying?”
“I'm suggesting everyone wants something from your land.”
“They told me what they want.”
“Did they?”
Hale leaned back.
“Ask them who owns the other half of Thomas Mercer's canyon map.”
Eli stared.
“They said they don't know.”
Hale smiled.
“Then one of us is lying.”
Eli crossed the street.
Chaska immediately read his face.
“What did he say?”
“He says you know where the other half is.”
Waya cursed softly.
Serina looked at Chaska.
That reaction was enough.
Eli's anger rose.
“You do.”
Chaska's silence confirmed it.
“Where?”
“Not here.”
“Where?”
“Eli—”
He laughed bitterly.
“You rode onto my land telling me Gideon lied. Hale lied. Everyone lied.”
“We never said we knew where it was.”
“You said you didn't know.”
Waya stepped forward.
“We said we didn't have it.”
“That isn't what I heard.”
Chaska did not defend herself.
Good.
Eli turned away.
“I'm done.”
Chaska caught his arm.
He pulled free.
“No.”
“We had a reason.”
“Everybody does.”
“This is different.”
“That's what liars say.”
Serina finally spoke.
“The other half belongs to Amos Bell.”
Eli stopped.
Chaska shot her a look.
Serina ignored it.
“We know where he is.”
Eli turned.
“Las Cruces?”
“No.”
“Pike said—”
“Pike is repeating an old story.”
Serina stepped closer.
“Amos Bell has been living under another name for seven years.”
“Why?”
“Because someone tried to kill him.”
Eli stared.
Waya spoke.
“He contacted us two years ago.”
“And you didn't tell me.”
“We had not found you.”
“You found me yesterday.”
Chaska's voice became firm.
“And we were waiting to see whether Gideon knew Amos was alive.”
Eli's anger paused.
“Does he?”
“We don't think so.”
“Where is Bell?”
Chaska glanced across the street.
Victor Hale was watching them.
“Not where Hale can hear.”
They returned to the ranch before dusk.
The ride was tense.
Eli kept ahead.
He hated that Hale's words had worked.
He hated more that Chaska had given them room to work.
At the ranch, Chaska handed Eli a sealed envelope.
“This arrived three months ago.”
The handwriting was shaky.
The name on the outside:
CHASKA.
Inside was a short message.
I still possess the second half.
If Thomas's son is about to lose the ranch, bring him to San Miguel mission ruins.
Come before September.
A.B.
Eli read it twice.
“Why didn't you show me this immediately?”
“Because if you had thrown us off your ranch yesterday, we needed Amos protected.”
“I wouldn't have.”
“You didn't know us.”
“You knew me.”
“We knew who you were at twenty-three.”
Chaska's expression softened.
“We did not know who ten years had made you.”
That hurt because it was fair.
Eli looked at the date.
Three months earlier.
“September is two weeks away.”
“Yes.”
“How far?”
“Two days riding.”
Waya crossed her arms.
“If we leave tomorrow.”
Eli glanced at Calico.
The old mare could make the journey if they rode carefully.
He looked toward the unsigned sale document.
Twenty days remained before foreclosure.
Two days to Amos.
Two back.
Maybe.
He folded the letter.
“We leave at first light.”
Chaska nodded.
Eli started toward the barn.
Then Serina called him.
“There is something else.”
She held the brass marker.
“Hale saw this ten years ago.”
“So?”
“He knows we have it.”
Eli understood.
If Victor Hale believed they were riding to Amos Bell, he would not wait politely.
They had only one advantage.
Hale did not know when they were leaving.
Then hoofbeats sounded in the distance.
Waya turned toward the road.
A rider appeared.
Not Gideon.
Samuel Pike.
He came fast.
Too fast.
When he reached the porch, his face was white.
“Hale left town.”
Eli looked at Chaska.
“When?”
“An hour before you did.”
“Which direction?”
Pike swallowed.
“South.”
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Toward San Miguel.
Somebody had already told him.
