Chapter 7 - The Receipts Under Ruth’s Floor
Silas had hidden the receipts in Kansas.
Beneath Ruth Boone’s bedroom floor.
Elias stared at him.
“You expect me to believe you kept evidence against Voss in my own house?”
“I expected nobody to search beneath a dead woman’s bed.”
Voss’s face had gone hard.
“You’re making a mistake, Silas.”
Silas looked at him.
“I made the mistake twenty years ago.”
“Careful.”
“No.”
It was the first time Elias had seen his uncle stand straight since the meeting began.
Silas pointed toward Elias.
“I watched Ruth die believing we had protected him. Then I took your money after she was gone because I had debts and because I was a coward.”
Voss’s men shifted.
Silas continued.
“I’m finished.”
Voss laughed softly.
“Men like you are never finished. They simply change which lie they need.”
Elias hated that the sentence contained truth.
He looked at Silas.
“What receipts?”
“Every payment I made on the Kansas mortgage. Voss bought the bank last year and altered the account.”
Voss said, “Prove it.”
Silas looked directly at him.
“I intend to.”
A rifle cracked from the hillside.
Not one of Voss’s visible men.
The bullet struck the table between Elias and Silas.
Chaos erupted.
Tavan’s men returned fire with warning shots and arrows toward the ridge.
Voss dropped behind a timber pile.
Sani pulled Elias’s horse backward.
“Who fired?” Elias shouted.
Tavan looked toward the northern slope.
“Not us.”
Another shot hit the mill wall.
Voss shouted, “Hold your fire!”
His own men looked confused.
Elias realized the shooter was not part of the meeting.
Someone wanted the conversation stopped.
Silas ran toward Elias.
A third shot tore through his coat shoulder.
He spun and fell.
“Silas!”
Elias tried to dismount.
Pain exploded through his leg.
Sani stopped him.
Tavan and two others dragged Silas behind cover.
No blood spray.
Only a dark tear in the fabric and Silas clutching his shoulder.
“Through the flesh,” Sani said after checking.
The shooting stopped.
Hoofbeats disappeared north.
Voss stood slowly.
“That wasn’t mine.”
Tavan replied, “Convenient.”
Voss looked genuinely furious.
Elias studied him.
If Voss had ordered the shot, why fire before obtaining the ledger?
Unless the real target was Silas.
“Who knows about the receipts?” Elias asked.
Silas grimaced.
“Only me.”
“Anyone ever see you hide them?”
“No.”
“What about Ruth?”
“She was already sick.”
Elias turned toward Jonah, who stood among Voss’s men.
Jonah would not meet his eyes.
“Jonah.”
His friend looked up.
“Who told Voss I stole the bag?”
“I did.”
“Who told him about this meeting?”
“Everybody here.”
“Who else works with Voss?”
Jonah frowned.
“What are you asking?”
“Whoever fired knew exactly when Silas started talking.”
Tavan looked toward the ridge.
“Someone followed us.”
Sani shook his head.
“We checked.”
Voss said, “Then perhaps they followed me.”
The admission surprised everyone.
Tavan studied him.
“You have enemies.”
Voss almost smiled.
“Success is noisy.”
Elias looked at the ledger.
Perhaps Harlan Voss was not the only man hiding inside its pages.
Some entries carried initials Elias had not understood.
E.C.
Repeated across numerous transactions.
Bribes.
Land filings.
Payments.
“Who is E.C.?” Elias asked.
Voss’s face changed.
Silas noticed.
“So you saw it.”
“Who?”
Voss did not answer.
Tavan did.
“Everett Crane.”
Elias recognized the name.
A federal interpreter and land agent who had worked between settlers, military posts and Native communities for nearly fifteen years.
Respectable.
Educated.
Supposedly neutral.
Tavan’s expression darkened.
“Crane handled the original survey disputes.”
Silas whispered, “He also notarized the 1876 deed.”
Elias looked at Voss.
“You and Crane.”
Voss said nothing.
“Partners?”
“Once.”
“What happened?”
Voss’s smile returned, but there was no humor in it.
“Everett Crane dislikes sharing.”
Suddenly the shooter made sense.
If Silas possessed evidence proving fraud, it threatened more than Voss.
It threatened the man who legitimized the paperwork.
Tavan asked, “Where is Crane now?”
Voss looked toward the northern ridge.
“He was in Fort Garrett this morning.”
Elias thought of the shooter escaping north.
Crane could not personally be everywhere.
But he could hire someone.
Silas grabbed Elias’s sleeve.
“Go home.”
“Kansas?”
“Get the receipts before Crane does.”
Elias looked at his broken leg.
“That’s a four-day ride healthy.”
“Train from Fort Garrett.”
Voss laughed.
“You think I’ll let you carry my ledger onto a train?”
Elias raised his revolver.
“You’re welcome to try stopping me.”
Voss’s men moved.
Tavan’s warriors appeared closer.
No one fired.
Finally Voss smiled.
“You still misunderstand your position.”
“No.”
Elias secured the ledger inside his coat.
“For thirty-three years everyone else decided where I belonged.”
He looked at Silas.
Then Tavan.
Then Voss.
“That ended in a hole in the forest.”
He turned his horse toward Fort Garrett.
Behind him Voss called:
“If you go to Kansas, Crane will know where you’re headed.”
Elias looked back.
“Good.”
Voss frowned.
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Elias pulled his hat low.
“Maybe this time I’m tired of being the one chased.”
