Pike continued.
“We need to search your wagons and your ranch.”
Mara nodded.
“All right.”
Crowe’s expression changed.
That answer had not been expected.
Mara continued.
“The wagons contain nothing except goods purchased or contributed by the people whose signatures are in this ledger.”
She handed the manifest to Elias Murray.
“If you want the ranch, you can accompany the territorial investigator arriving on the nine o’clock train.”
Sheriff Pike froze.
“What territorial investigator?”
Mara looked at him.
“The one I wrote to three weeks ago.”
For the first time, the sheriff appeared uncertain.
Chapter 13: Ruth’s Ledger
Mara reached inside her coat.
She removed Ruth’s original ledger.
Silas Crowe went pale.
Pike took one step forward.
“Give me that.”
Mara pulled it closer.
“No.”
His voice hardened.
“That may be stolen property.”
“It was buried on my husband’s land.”
“By whom?”
Mara looked toward Crowe.
“His dead wife.”
Caleb watched Silas carefully.
The merchant’s eyes never left the ledger.
Mara continued.
“Ruth Hart spent years recording short shipments, altered weights, farm foreclosures, and payments connected to people who helped you keep the system quiet.”
Crowe recovered enough to smile.
“A dead woman’s notebook proves nothing.”
Mara nodded.
“You’re right.”
Something like relief appeared in his face.
“Her suspicions are not enough.”
Mara opened the ledger.
“That is why we made copies of every freight receipt, every contract, and every statement before this morning.”
Crowe’s relief disappeared.
“One set went to the railroad’s legal office.”
Mara continued.
“One went to the territorial attorney.”
“Another left Dry Creek County entirely.”
Sheriff Pike looked at Silas.
That look mattered.
For the first time, the two men were no longer thinking as partners.
They were calculating separate exits.
Then Mara removed another envelope.
Caleb frowned.
He had never seen it.
“What is that?”
Mara looked toward him.
“I found it yesterday inside a false panel in the final metal box.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I needed to understand it first.”
The front of the envelope carried Ruth’s handwriting.
FOR THE MAN SILAS CROWE CALLS HIS SON.
Crowe staggered one step backward.
“No.”
Everyone at the depot went quiet.