Her hands began trembling.
“When did he give you this?”
“The night before he died.”
“And you kept it?”
“He made me promise.”
“He made you promise to let me lose everything?”
“To wait until Puit exposed himself.”
“That auction happened today!”
“I know.”
“You could have stopped it!”
“No.”
Clay’s voice finally rose.
“If I had shown those receipts before the auction, Puit could have corrected the ledger and called it an accounting error.
If I’d produced the old mortgage, he could have claimed your father replaced it later.”
Clay stepped closer.
“But now Puit and Sturgis have tried to buy me out at nine thousand dollars above market.
They followed us to the hidden box.
And we heard them admit they killed your father.”
“No one else heard it.”
Clay looked toward the yard.
“Maybe not.”
Tessa frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Before he could answer, the front door opened.
Boots crossed the floor.
Amos called from the hall.
“Miss Morgan?”
Tessa opened the study door.
Sheriff Nathan Bell stood outside.
With him was Harlon Puit.
And behind them came Sturgis.
Alive.
His face was cut badly from the fall.
Harlon pointed at Clay.
“Sheriff, that’s the man.”
Tessa stared.
“What is this?”
Bell looked uncomfortable.
“Mr.
Puit says Barrett stole bank documents and attempted to kill Mr.
Sturgis.”
“That’s a lie.”
Harlon looked almost sorrowful.
“Tessa, Barrett has manipulated you.”
“You murdered my father.”
Every man in the hall went still.
Harlon’s eyes became flat.
“Grief can create terrible ideas.”
“We heard you.”
“Hear what?”
“At the spring house.”
Sturgis laughed.
“Never been to any spring house.”
Tessa produced the mortgage.
Harlon barely glanced at it.
“A preliminary agreement.”
“It says the loan covered only three hundred twenty acres.”
“Before your father refinanced.”
“Where is the refinancing agreement?”
“At the bank.”
Clay said, “Convenient.”
Harlon turned to Sheriff Bell.
“Arrest him.”
Bell hesitated.
Clay slowly unbuckled his gun belt and handed it over.
Tessa stared at him.
“What are you doing?”
Clay looked strangely calm.
“Exactly what we planned.”
“We?”
Then Amos Trent stepped forward.
And behind him came another man.
A small man with round spectacles whom Tessa recognized from the auction.
She had seen him standing beside the newspaper editor.
The stranger removed his hat.
“Miss Morgan, my name is Elias Wren.”
Harlon’s face changed instantly.
Wren continued.
“I’m a deputy examiner from the Colorado banking commission.”
Silence.
Tessa looked from Wren to Clay.
Then to Harlon.
Wren reached inside his coat.
“Mr.
Puit, I’ve been examining Bledsoe Pioneer Bank for eleven weeks.”
Harlon stepped backward.
Sheriff Bell’s hand moved toward his pistol.
Wren continued.
“We suspected fraudulent foreclosure practices involving five ranch properties.”
Five.
Tessa felt sick.
She was not the first.
Wren looked at Sturgis.
“Mr.
Sturgis has purchased three of those properties through intermediaries before transferring them to a Denver syndicate connected to Mr.
Puit.”
Sturgis bolted.
He made it three steps.
Amos swung the shotgun toward him.
“Wouldn’t.”
Sturgis stopped.
Harlon shouted, “None of this proves murder!”
“No,” Wren said.
“Fortunately, the murder confession does.”
Tessa stared.
“What confession?”
Wren looked toward Amos.
The foreman walked to the parlor window and pulled back the curtain.
A young ranch hand climbed through from the porch roof carrying something wrapped in cloth.
He handed it to Wren.
Inside was a small metal cylinder connected to a coil.
Tessa frowned.
Wren smiled slightly.
