Marblestone Mansion, Book 10 Read online

Page 11


  Hannish didn’t like it, but his brother was right – the best place for him to be was at home. “I need to find banker Goodwin.”

  “I will find him,” Claymore offered. “Stay and wait for the call.”

  “And if it never comes?” Hannish asked.

  Claymore did not have an answer for that. Claymore kissed Abigail full on the lips. “Be the mainstay for the ladies, my love, as only you can be.” He delighted in the surprise in her expression, and then turned to rush out the door.

  “It is Sunday…” she managed to say before he disappeared. The cooks arrived, as did the rest of the servants, courtesy of the Parson and his wife, and children were nearly everywhere. Most of them were too young to understand and were ushered to the kitchen for refreshments, but Blair looked particularly despondent. “Will you not come sit with me?” When Blair nodded, Abigail looped her arm around Blair’s arm and took her to the parlor.

  When Claymore’s automobile backfired, it scared the living daylights out of everyone…especially Abigail, who put her hand on her chest and shrieked.

  “She could still be here,” Justin said when he finally got his father’s attention.

  Hannish felt sorry for the boy and put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Would you care to help me search the house?”

  “Aye.”

  With his son right behind him, Hannish looked in every room on the first floor, except the ones with people in them. Next, Hannish checked all the closets, and even went up the back steps and searched the hidden room before he closed it back up. That was one thing he was glad he did when he built the house.

  When he found Leesil’s shoes in the hallway on the second floor, he picked them up and put them in their bedroom, not once remembering those were the shoes she was wearing when he left. The side of the bedding was lapped over the top, and it didn’t take long to figure out why. He knelt down, looked under the bed and sure enough, the money he kept there was gone.

  “They made Mother tell them where it was,” said Justin.

  “You knew I had money hidden here?” Hannish asked as he stood up.

  “I found it once when I was playing. I was just a boy then.”

  Hannish smiled and took hold of his son’s shoulder. “You have grown up without my noticin’.”

  “I am not that grown up.” He followed his father out the door and then into the next empty room. “Father, I have done…said something terrible…worse than terrible.”

  “What did you say?” Hannish asked as he closed yet another closet door. When his son did not quickly answer, he stopped searching and looked at him.

  Justin bit his lower lip. “I resented having to always go with Blair. I was angry and I told her I hoped someone would take her. I dinna think…I mean, I dinna really want anyone to take her…not the way they have taken my Mother.”

  Hannish pulled his son to him. “Of course you dinna mean it. Have you not noticed something else missing?”

  “What?”

  “Where is Traitor?”

  Justin’s eyes widened. “You think they took…” He spun around, and hurried off to find his dog. He spotted his baseball as soon as he got out the backdoor, but Traitor had deserted it. Twice, Justin ran around the house yelling for his dog, but Traitor was nowhere to be found. On the side of the house, Justin slumped to the ground and let himself cry where no one could see him. When he looked up, the Sheriff and the men were starting toward the waterfall.

  “Uncle Cameron?” he shouted as he started to run that direction.

  Cameron pulled his horse around. “What?”

  “Traitor is missing too.” He watched his uncle nod, turn his horse back around and follow the other men into the bushes. With both hands, Justin wiped the tears off his face, took a deep breath, and went back inside.

  *

  Hannish finished searching the second floor and then went up the last flight of stairs to the servant’s quarters. The door to their sitting room was already open. He had not been in the servant’s quarters in a very long time and just now, with all the people downstairs, he welcomed being alone. He sat on the edge of a chair, put his elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands. How could he have let this happen? Why had he not taught Leesil to shoot and left a gun where she could easily get to it? It was to keep guns out of the hands of the children, of course, but he just never thought…

  “Leesil,” he softly moaned. He remembered the day he knew he was in love with her well. It was after the duchess beat her with a hairbrush. When he carried Leesil up to her room, and her hair spilled over the pillow, he realized hers was the kind of beauty a man should seek. Indeed, to him she was far more beautiful than the duchess could ever be.

  For a moment, he wondered if he ever told Leesil that. Now, it might be too late. Worst of all, why did he fight with her that morning? He should have stayed until they talked it out, but instead, for the first time ever, he went off to church without her. He hadn’t even heard Alistair come in, until the butler handed him a full glass of rum. Hannish shook his head.

  “Drink it for the family’s sake. They are countin’ on you.”

  Hannish MacGreagor, once a duke and still the clan’s Laird, realized his hand was shaking as he took hold of the glass. Alistair was right – he needed to calm himself, so he gulped half of it down, took a breath, and then drank the rest. “Thank you.”

  Alistair held out his hand to help his old friend up. “Mr. Whitfield called to say he found the banker. He is getting the money for you now.”

  “I dinna hear the telephone ring. How is Prescot?”

  “Doc is still digging the bullet out and patching him up. Millie drank her glass of rum right down?”

  “Millie hates rum.”

  “Aye, she does.” Alistair followed Hannish down the stairs. “The cooks are feeding the children in the kitchen, and setting out the picnic baskets in the dining room for anyone who is hungry. Most are not.”

  Hannish abruptly stopped and hung his head. “You cannot know what I said to Leesil this mornin’ and how I hate myself for it now.”

  “All husbands say somethin’ they dinna mean.”

  “Aye, but ‘tis the last thing she shall remember. I dinna even tell her I loved her before I left for church.”

  “She knows that.”

  “Does she? I am not at all certain she does.” Without another word, Hannish squared his shoulders, went down the rest of the stairs, crossed the parlor and went to comfort Millie.

  *

  The funeral for Lillie Mae’s father was held on Easter Sunday afternoon. By then, her mother had pulled herself together enough to attend it, and at her daughter’s insistence, ate a meal. It was not until they returned home that Lillie Mae said, “I wonder why Willis was not at the funeral.”

  “He run off,” little Emma said.

  “Run off?” Lillie Mae asked.

  “I hid behind the tree and heard him and Earl talking. They’ve gone to rob the place and Pete is gone too. Pete’s mother said as much down at the mercantile.”

  Confused, Lillie Mae tipped her head to one side. “Rob what place?”

  “Your place…Marblestone.”

  Lillie Mae’s eyes widened. She instantly shot up and ran out the door. She leapt into the buggy, unhooked the reins, and slapped them against the horse’s back. She turned the buggy around and halted just long enough for Brookton to get in beside her.

  “I think I should drive,” he said.

  “Hush up, Brookton. This is serious and you do not know the fastest way.”

  “True. I did not even know you could drive a buggy,” he muttered. It was all he could do to hang on as the horse raced around the corner, and nearly tipped the buggy over. “Slow down before you kill us both.” Lillie Mae, he noticed, was not listening.

  As soon as she reached Main Street, she yanked the horse to a halt, tossed the reins to Brookton, and flew out of the buggy. In less than two seconds, she was inside the mercantile.

&
nbsp; “Lillie Mae, I…”

  She pulled a nickel out of her pocket and laid it on the counter. “The telephone, Mr. Burns, and hurry.”

  At her insistence, he pulled his handset out from under and put it on the counter. “What is wrong?”

  She ignored him too.

  “Connect me with the operator in Colorado Springs. Yes, Mr. Long, I am home. Hurry, this is an emergency.” It seemed like forever, but at last, she got through to Mable, who transferred the call immediately to Marblestone. “Alistair, three men are about to attack Marble… what?” She turned to look at Brookton, who was by then standing right beside her. “They shot Prescot.”

  Brookton puffed his cheeks.

  “And they took Miss Leesil.” She turned her attention back to Alistair on the other end of the telephone. “Yes, I know them. Yes, their names are Earl Flood, Willis Linder, and Pete Harris. Is Prescot…I see. Yes, I shall call tomorrow. Thank you, Mr. Alistair.” Lillie Mae slowly hung up.

  “I hope they catch ‘em,” said the grocer. “I will hate telling Earl’s father, but Pete never was no good. I’m surprised about Willis, though.”

  Lillie Mae again ignored the grocer and stared into Brookton’s eyes. At long last, the tears began to rim the bottom of her eyes, and she was glad when Brookton wrapped his arms around her. She couldn’t help wondering if it was her fault somehow. “We need to go back.”

  “We need to stay here and see to your mother and sisters,” Brookton argued. “There are plenty at Marblestone to care for the family.” It took her a moment, but when she finally nodded, he knew he had convinced her.

  *

  Having her hands tied in front of her wasn’t the worst of it. At least Leesil could hold on to the horse’s mane and try to keep from falling off as they went up and down the hills. The worst was when Pete tied his bandana around her head to cover her eyes. It made her feel confused and disoriented. As near as she could tell, they were not on a road or even a path – not with the way the bushes kept scratching her legs. She was aware of when she was in the shade of a tree and in the bright sun, but that didn’t tell her where she was. They had gone quite a distance, when all of a sudden, Pete pulled his horse to a halt.

  On a hill high above Manitou Springs, the three thieves stared at an abandoned shack.

  “What is it?” Leesil asked.

  “A place to keep you until we get the money,” Pete answered. He pulled the kerchief off her head and let her look around.

  “How are we going to get the money?” Willis asked.

  “Easy,” said Pete as he dismounted. “We call, tell him where to leave it and then go pick it up.”

  “You think it is going to be that easy?” Earl asked. “Once you tell them where to leave the money, the sheriff will have his men there to capture us.”

  “He is right,” Willis said.

  Pete was not dissuaded. “They will not. I got it all figured out. All we have to do is tell him to come alone, or he will never see his wife again.” He reached up, took hold of her waist and pulled Leesil off the horse.

  To Leesil, it looked like an old abandoned miner’s shack, the sort of shack Claymore had often described in the past. It had redwood siding, one door and a glassless window, with what was left of a shredded curtain hanging down. The remnants of a fallen tree lay across what was once a path, to what she hoped was a creek. She could hear water somewhere nearby, so she guessed water was not going to be a problem.

  Tall trees hid the shack from the inhabitants of the town below, which was obviously Manitou Springs. Leesil knew exactly where she was – after all, she could see Pikes Peak. Hoping not to give herself away, she dared not look toward Marblestone. She probably couldn’t see it from there anyway.

  Leesil watched as Willis gently pushed the creaking door inward. It barely hung on one hinge and appeared ready to fall off at any moment. Inside, there was what looked like a fairly stable table and one chair. More importantly, on the table was the handle of an old ax. It wasn’t much, but she thought she could use it as a weapon if she could get to it.

  “All clear,” Willis said, as he came back out. “No food, though.”

  Earl was astounded. “You expected to find food?”

  “Not really,” Willis admitted. “One of us will have to go into town.”

  “I will go, but I’m taking the money with me,” Pete said. “I do not trust the two of you.”

  “I do not trust you either,” Earl shot back.

  “We could divide it up now,” Willis suggested. “I’d like to know how much we got anyway.”

  Earl went to his horse, untied the bag and brought it back. He went inside, dumped the contents on the table and began to divide it up.

  “In there,” Pete said, shoving Leesil from behind. She didn’t have any choice, so she went inside and looked around. There were stains on the wooden floor, dirt everywhere, old gunny sacks were piled in a corner, and what was once a bed sat against one wall. There was little left of the bed save a headboard and two outer wooden rails. In the corner of the shack, above two old barrels, was a huge spider web and one very large, black spider. It sent a chill down her back. Fortunately, Willis saw it too, grabbed the ax handle and killed it.

  Relieved, Leesil held her tied hands out in front of her and sat down on the dirty floor. Already, her new Easter dress was smudged with dirt and part of the bottom ruffle was torn. She thought about Prescot and said a little prayer for him. She wondered if Cathleen and Beverly were still hiding in the hidden room, and she wondered just how long it would be until someone came home and found Prescot. By then, he probably would be dead. In truth, there was no reason for anyone to come home early. Leesil wanted to scream, but now was not the time. She was in a room with three strange men, and a lot could go wrong.

  When Earl finished counting the money, the total came to two hundred dollars for each of them.

  “That is more than I thought,” said Willis as he laid the ax handle back on the table and scooped up his third.

  “Not as much as it will be,” Pete sneered.

  “Are we going to go get the ransom money now?” Willis asked.

  “Not now,” Pete said. “We…”

  “But you said…” Willis interrupted.

  “I know what I said,” Pete sneered. “Think about it. By now they have called the sheriff and there are probably a hundred people in that mansion trying to figure out what to do.”

  “Getting a posse organized, you mean,” Earl scoffed. “If we wait until morning, the risk of getting caught will be far greater. I say we make the call now.”

  “And I say we wait,” Pete argued. “You remember when little Floyd Messinger got lost? People looked for him all night long, and by morning, they were too exhausted to do much of anything.”

  “He is right,” said Willis.

  “He is not right,” Earl argued. “Pete is going to get us all killed.”

  “But…” Willis began.

  Earl disgustedly shook his head. “Willis, we took a woman against her will. It is enough of a reason to shoot us on sight.”

  Willis took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “He is right, Pete.”

  Before Pete could argue further, Traitor darted through the door and went straight to Leesil.

  “Looks like we got us a dog too,” said a smiling Willis.

  “Traitor,” Leesil muttered. The dog whined and rolled over on his back. With her hands tied, it was impossible to rub his belly and when she didn’t, Traitor turned on his belly and put his head in her lap.

  “You keep that dog quiet or I will kill it,” Pete threatened.

  Leesil only glared at him.

  “You going to get us something to eat or not?” Earl asked Pete.

  Pete held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. “I’m not buying yours. Ante up.”

  Earl pulled his roll of money out of his pocket, peeled off a dollar bill and handed it to Pete.

  “I will have ham and beans,” said Willis as
he handed his dollar to Pete.

  “You will have whatever I can carry,” Pete scoffed. He went outside, mounted his horse, and then headed down the hill toward Manitou Springs.

  Leesil waited until she was sure he was gone before she said, “You know you can get in a lot of trouble for taking me, do you not?”

  “We know,” Willis said, “but they will not catch us.”

  “If you let me go, they might not judge you too harshly.”

  “What does she mean?” Willis asked Earl.

  Earl pulled the chair away from the table and sat down. “She means if we let her go, maybe they will not hang us.”

  “And maybe they will anyway?” Willis asked.

  “Probably,” Earl answered.

  Willis turned his attention to Leesil. “Pete has a plan. He says they will not catch us.”

  “Pete is not as smart as you think he is,” Earl argued.

  “What are you going to do with my candlestick holder?” Leesil asked Willis.

  “Sell it,” Willis answered. “Is it real gold?”

  “Aye, it is. You could probably sell it and live quite well on the money, unless...”

  “Unless what?” Willis asked.

  “Unless you intend to share that money with Pete too,” Earl interrupted.

  Willis looked at Earl and then cast his eyes downward. “I suppose I should share it.”

  “Honor among thieves,” Leesil muttered. When Willis turned around to look for something to sit on, she looked out the door.

  “Don’t,” said Earl.

  Leesil studied Earl’s serious eyes and knew he guessed what she was thinking. “You could tell Pete I ran and you couldn’t find me. Tell him anything you want, but let me go back to my husband and children.”

  “You know what we look like now,” Earl said. “We cannot let you go, not until we have the money and time to get away.”

  “He is right,” said Willis. “He is always right.”

  “Willis,” said Earl, “go hide our horses in that clump of trees we came through on our way here.”