Chapter 12 - Clay’s Clean Hands
Clay returned with bankers.
That impressed Elias.
Not gunmen.
Bankers.
Investors from Tucson and San Francisco toured the western basin with surveyors.
Danner Freight proposed a station, cattle yards and eventually a rail connection should future lines move south.
Money changed the conversation.
Some families wanted trade.
Some wanted employment.
Others wanted Clay gone.
Aayoka insisted Elias understand this.
“You keep thinking everyone wants the same thing.”
“They want their water.”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“They disagree about how to live beside people coming here.”
Elias looked toward the investors.
“Living beside Clay usually ends badly.”
“That does not answer the question.”
She was right.
Again.
Elias found personal growth exhausting.
Sarah Finch filed Amos’s records.
The territorial office issued another temporary delay.
Clay remained calm.
He invited Elias to dinner.
Elias went.
Aayoka called that foolish.
Elias called it curiosity.
Clay served steak inside a canvas survey camp.
“You’ve become difficult.”
“You liked me better when I robbed people?”
“I understood you better.”
Clay poured whiskey.
Elias declined.
Clay raised an eyebrow.
“That serious?”
“What do you want?”
“Partnership.”
“No.”
“Listen.”
“No.”
Clay smiled.
“You still do that thing where refusing temptation is easier if you don’t hear the number.”
“Works.”
Clay slid a document forward.
Ownership.
Ten percent of Danner Freight.
Worth more than Elias could imagine.
“For what?”
“Your name.”
Elias laughed.
“My name is worth ten percent?”
“Amos’s is.”
There it was.
If Elias publicly supported Clay’s interpretation of Amos’s records, investors would feel safer.
“He committed fraud.”
“He corrected it.”
“After.”
“People love redemption when money is involved.”
Elias looked at Clay.
“You planned the settlement fire.”
Clay’s face went flat.
“I planned intimidation.”
“Difference only matters to the man holding the match.”
Clay drank.
“One of my riders started the fire early.”
“You still brought them.”
“Yes.”
“People were injured.”
“Yes.”
“You regret it?”
Clay considered.
“No.”
Honest.
Elias appreciated honesty even when it revealed ugliness.
Clay continued.
“I regret losing control.”
“That’s different.”
“Yes.”
“Why tell me?”
“Because I’m tired of you believing we’re opposites.”
Elias leaned back.
“We aren’t.”
Clay seemed surprised.
Elias continued.
“We did the same things.”
Clay smiled.
“Finally.”
“But I’m trying to stop.”
The smile disappeared.
“That’s the difference.”
Clay’s eyes hardened.
“You think choice erases history?”
“No.”
“Then what does it do?”
“Changes tomorrow.”
Clay laughed.
“Aayoka.”
“What?”
“That sounds like her.”
“Maybe.”
Clay looked almost sad.
“You used to sound like yourself.”
Elias left.
Outside, he found Aayoka waiting.
“You followed me?”
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I expected you to need a horse after he shot you.”
“That’s almost thoughtful.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
“What did he offer?”
“Ten percent.”
Aayoka stopped.
“Of his company?”
“Yes.”
“That is a lot.”
“Apparently.”
“You refused?”
“Yes.”
“Immediately?”
“After steak.”
She laughed.
Elias liked the sound more than he wanted to admit.
They returned toward camp.
Halfway there, rifle fire erupted behind them.
Clay’s camp.
They turned.
Men ran.
A tent burned.
Elias drew his revolver.
A wounded rider stumbled into the road.
“Boon!”
“What happened?”
“Mr. Danner—”
A shot struck the rider in the back.
He fell.
Elias and Aayoka took cover.
Three masked men rode away.
Not Apache.
Not Clay’s known crew.
Someone had attacked Danner Freight.
They entered the camp.
Clay lay beside the dinner tent.
Blood darkened his shirt near the ribs.
Alive.
Barely.
Elias stared.
Clay opened his eyes.
“Partner.”
“Don’t get sentimental.”
“Wasn’t planning.”
“Who?”
Clay coughed.
“Investors.”
“What?”
One of Clay’s own financial partners had decided he was becoming a liability.
The land disputes.
Hearings.
Fire allegations.
They could acquire Danner Freight cheaper if Clay died.
Elias almost laughed.
“You built respectable criminals.”
“Proud moment.”
Aayoka knelt and examined the wound.
“Bullet passed through.”
Clay grimaced.
“That good?”
“You may live.”
“Less good.”
She pressed cloth against the wound.
Clay looked at Elias.
“They want the water whether I’m alive or not.”
That was the moment Elias understood something crucial.
Clay was not the entire problem.
He was merely the most familiar face of it.
Kill Clay, arrest Clay, defeat Clay—
the money remained.
The corridor remained.
The water remained valuable.
Another company would come.
Aayoka had understood before he did.
Protecting Red Mesa could never be reduced to defeating one villain.
Clay grabbed Elias’s sleeve.
“There’s a ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“My office.”
“Of course there is.”
“Investors. Officials. payments.”
Elias sighed.
“Everybody hides paper.”
Clay almost smiled.
“They’ll kill for it.”
“Where?”
Clay whispered.
Then lost consciousness.
Aayoka looked at Elias.
“What did he say?”
Elias stared south.
“The spring.”
Clay Danner had hidden his corruption ledger inside the one place he believed nobody would search at night.
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And according to Clay—
someone was already riding there to retrieve it.
