“You what?” John Russell lowered the double barrelled shotgun he’d raised to fire and stared at Nathan, who stood outside the low fenced circle that marked the boundary of the shooting range. Vulcan was one of the two French hounds that circled them with excited yaps, eager for the chance to collect killed or wounded birds.
“I went to see the French widow who owns sixty-seven percent of the Ruby mine this morning. She’s under a lot of pressure from Octavius Weavers to sell cheap to a mystery buyer. He threatened to make her daughter ‘disappear’ like Minette.”
“He what?” John’s head jerked back and his spine stiffened. He gave a low whistle. “Unbelievable.”
A thin, grubby boy of eleven or twelve who crouched a few feet away with a rock pigeon cupped in his hands, ready to release it on command.
“Hold the bird, boy.”
John leaned his gun up against the fence and stepped out of the shooting circle. The dogs followed excitedly, and Vulcan nudged Nathan’s hand. He stroked the dog’s silky head as he waited for his brother to respond.
John’s reluctance last night to believe that Willoughby Martens was a fraudster still felt like a kick in the guts, but over the last few days Nathan had sensed a reawakening of the bonds formed during their Hong Kong years. Thanks to Arabella. She had a motherly instinct that had defused their petty rivalries and drawn them all together, and Nathan knew John still thought highly of her.
“Is that right? He said what exactly?”
“That she’d better be careful or her girl would disappear ‘like that other one’ but she wouldn’t be so lucky, she wouldn’t come back.”
John stabbed at the ground in front of him with the toe of his riding boot. “If that’s how it is, she needs protection. I’m still trying to process the implication that Minette was kidnapped. That there was no mistake, like someone accidentally leaving a door open.”
Nathan nodded. “The other thing is, it’s come to me what Vance Pedersen was trying to say when he died. You know Graysie heard him whisper something that sounded like a woman’s name—Ruth or Ruby, she thought at the time. It should have occurred to me earlier than this, but I bet it was the Ruby mine he was thinking about. And I’d wager his death has something to do with that mine as well.”
“I respect your instincts, Nathan, I really do… but… I wonder if the upheavals you’ve suffered this last twelve months or so…” He put one foot up on the lower rung of the wooden fence and gazed over the field.
“Well, I hate to say it, old boy, but have they affected your judgment? This just all seems so, well, far fetched.”
Nathan felt the slow burn of anger in the pit of his stomach but fought to keep his voice low and controlled. “Upheavals? We’re not back on this tack are we, John? Firstly isn’t it more about the fact that you don’t want to give up on your dealings with Martens in case you lose a few precious dollars?”
John blanched. “Now steady, old chap. That’s not fair.”
“Isn’t it?” Nathan’s blood was roaring in his ears, the rage dictating his words. “What’s not fair is you hinting that, what, I’m unstable? My judgment can’t be trusted? You can’t dispute the fact that he was dismissed for embezzlement. Why would you want to do business with a man like that?”
He clenched his fists and turned sharply away so his brother wouldn’t see how hurt he was. When he’d recovered his equilibrium, he swung back to stare John down.
“No, old boy, my judgment is not unhinged by the deaths of my wife and son or my stepfather’s suicide.” He spat the words out. “The things I’ve gone through have forced the carefree adventurer to grow up faster than he might have done. And maybe made me appreciate life more. Having a shotgun leveled at your chest tends to do that for a man.”
John shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m not trying to minimize what you’ve been through, Nathan, believe me. And I take your point about Martens. You’re right.”
Nathan let another half minute lapse and added, “When I think it could be a woman or child facing that gun… Well, it doesn’t bear thinking about.”
John flicked at a beetle that had landed on the sleeve of his coat. The day was fast heating up, and grass flies buzzed around their faces. “Do you really think it could come to that? Because if you do, then yes, I agree. We can’t just do nothing.”
Nathan picked up a stick Vulcan had dropped at his feet and threw it down the orchard. Both dogs took off in a rush to chase it.
John watched the animals, tails waving, for a minute or two, deep in thought. Then he turned and stepped over the fence back into the ring. He took a stance with his gun pointed skyward and yelled, “Boy. Release!”
The boy leapt up, twirling on his toes as he lifted the bird into the air and released it. A plump blue-feathered pigeon flapped energetically, rising fast before momentarily pausing in flight to sense the direction of the sun.
Two shots in quick succession set off an alarmed clamor from the pheasants in the nearby field as the pigeon fell with a plop to the grass inside the circle.
“Release!”
In quick succession, the boy released four more birds from a lidded basket at his feet, and four more birds landed within the circle. As the fifth bird dropped, John lowered his gun with a satisfied grin. As if on cue, the dogs loped over to the dead and dying birds. Gathering them one at a time in their mouths, they returned them to the boy, who put them in the basket as John watched.
“Take them to the kitchen, Jeb,” he instructed as he turned back to Nathan. “Why don’t you go visit Willie Watson? He knows more about the old mines around here than anyone except maybe Vance, and I think he once did some work on the Ruby. He might have a clue what’s going on. But be careful, Nathan. Why don’t you take Vulcan with you? He’s taken a shine to you, and he might be useful. And make sure you’re armed.”
He wandered over to Nathan and punched him affectionately on the shoulder. “Look, I do respect your judgment. The things that are going on—they’re just so extreme, and it’s hard to understand why a clapped-out mine could be so desirable. But let’s not allow that to get in the way of us reconnecting.
He turned towards the house and gestured for Nathan to precede him up the path. “We’re only just getting to know each other after all these years. I’d hate to lose that after having just found it again. Now let’s go and have some pigeon pie for lunch.”