Rupert turned in his saddle. “Where’s Bob?” he asked, alarmed.
“Don’t worry,” Mona assured. “He’ll catch up.”
“I’ll need him to help with Chester.”
Losing patience, Mona barked, “Move along, Rupert. We’re almost at the spot where I found the silver.” She reached down for her gun, but Rupert didn’t seem to notice.
Agitated, Rupert moved his horse into the rushing water. “This is where we parted. Chester went up the mountain and I headed downstream. We were supposed to meet back up here in an hour. When I came back to this spot, Chester never showed up, so I went looking for him. That’s how I heard him call out.”
Mona quickly moved Shaggy across the stream onto the other side. “Rupert, get your horse out of the water. It’s too cold for him.”
“Yes. Yes, you’re right,” Rupert muttered, moving his horse past Mona. “This way. Stay close.”
Mona and Rupert started climbing up the face of a ridge until Shaggy began breathing heavily.
“How much further?” Mona asked.
“Not too far. We should be close. I marked a tree.”
“This is too rough on the horses. If Chester wandered up this way, no wonder his horse threw him.”
“Chester said it was the panther, which caused the horse to bolt.”
“Yeah, right.
“What did you say, Mona?”
“I’m going to walk my horse,” Mona replied, hopping off Shaggy and leading her.
Rupert stayed on his horse and rode a little further up the mountainside leaving Mona behind.
She moved cautiously upward, looking carefully for any sign of an ambush. “Robert, I hope you’re behind me somewhere,” she mumbled, following what only could be described as a deer trail.
“Mona! MONA!”
Mona dropped Shaggy’s reins and ran up the pathway.
Rupert was standing on the ground with his back to her looking down at something. His horse was grazing nearby.
“Rupert, move.”
Rupert stepped aside and, in doing so, exposed a crumbled body lying across the deer path.
Mona rushed to the body and felt for a pulse.
“Is Chester okay? He must have climbed out on his own.”
“No, he’s not. Chester is dead. A nice bullet hole in the back of the head.” Mona pulled out her gun and turned to Rupert. “Get on your knees with your hands behind you.”
“What?”
“Do it.”
“I don’t understand. What’s gotten into you?”
“DO IT!” Mona screamed.
Rupert gingerly got on his knees and folded his hands at the back of his head.
Holding her gun on Rupert, Mona searched Chester’s pockets, finding English crowns. She held them up to Rupert.
“What are those?”
“Quit acting dumb. You know what they are,” Mona said, reaching inside Chester’s jacket and discovering his empty shoulder holster. “You have his gun, Rupert?”
Rupert’s eyes widened as he shook his head. “It wasn’t me. I swear it. It was just as I said. I found him in a ravine. Check his arm, Mona. Chester said he broke it. He must have climbed out on his own. He must have!”
Mona inspected Chester’s arms. “His left arm might be broken. Even if it’s sprung it would have hurt—I’ll give you that. I’m asking you again. Do you have Chester’s gun?”
“No. No. I swear it. If his left arm is broken, then he couldn’t have reached for his gun. Chester was left-handed.”
“Like I believe that. Stand up.”
Rupert stood, trembling like a leaf in the wind. “Don’t you see that his holster is on his right side?”
“Pull out your pockets.”
Rupert complied. “Mona. Mona. Listen to me.”
“Take off your jacket and boots.”
“It’s cold.”
“Do it, Rupert. I’m not kidding. I’ll shoot where you stand.”
Rupert took off his jacket.
“Throw it over to me on the ground,” Mona demanded.
Rupert threw it.
Keeping her gun trained on Rupert, Mona stooped down and picked the jacket up. “Now your boots.”
“It’s freezing,” Rupert complained.
Mona waved her gun at him.
Rupert sat on the ground and pulled off his boots.
“Throw them toward me.”
Rupert complied.
“Now, take down your pants and lift your shirt.”
“I will not. You must be mad. The wind is cutting through me now.”
“As soon as I see you are not carrying a gun, the sooner you can get your jacket and boots back.”
“Very well, but this is straight out of a Tom Mix movie.” Rupert unbuttoned his pants and lowered them while turning around and lifting his flannel shirt.
Satisfied, Mona motioned for Rupert to pull his clothes together while she checked his jacket and boots. Nothing. Finding his wallet, Mona threw his jacket back, but kept the boots. She checked the wallet’s contents. No ID and just a few dollars. She threw the wallet back to Rupert.
“Glad to see that you are coming to your senses finally.”
“Sit over by that tree and don’t move.”
After Rupert sat near a massive elm tree, Mona put her gun away and went over to Shaggy, who was now grazing near Rupert’s horse. Gently, she gathered the reins of both horses and tied them to a low branch of a nearby sapling. Keeping an eye on Rupert, she searched Rupert’s saddlebags. Nothing there but food, writing pads, maps, compass, and binoculars. No gun. Nothing that even looked like a weapon. Mona turned to Rupert. “Why did you kill Chester?”
“I didn’t, you daft woman. How many times do I have to tell you? Someone else killed him. Listen to me—did you find his wallet?”
“No.”
“And it wasn’t on me and not in my saddlebags. Someone came along, helped Chester up the ravine, and then stole his gun and wallet before killing him. Listen to reason, woman.”
“Where’s Chester’s horse? If his horse bolted then it should have returned to base camp, but it never came back because someone stole it.”
“You helped Chester up, took his gun, shot him, stole his wallet, threw it and the gun away.”
“What would have been my motivation?”
“Rupert, the game is up. I’ve been on to you for the longest time. You made too many errors in your little history lesson at Wendover. I know academics. Been around them most of my life. I am one myself, and one thing I know is that our kind is very particular about dates and names. You made stupid errors. You’re no history professor. You’re not even Rupert Hunt, I bet.”
“I am Rupert Hunt.”
“That night at Wendover, I made a call to my lawyer, Dexter Deatherage and told him of your blunders, and that I was suspicious. He was to call the president of the University of Kentucky that very night. If he found that my reservations were true, he was to mount a search group and follow me into the mountains. I expect that he talked to the real Dr. Hunt in Lexington and discovered that you were not he.”
Rupert’s eyes narrowed and his face took on a defeated look. “What gave me away?”
“You said the last Shawnee town in Kentucky was Eskippakaithiki burned in 1754. It wasn’t. It was Lower Shawnee Town abandoned in 1758 near the Ohio River.”
“So what. A minor trifle.”
“Then you said it was John Filson, who introduced Daniel Boone to Kentucky. He didn’t come to Kentucky until 1782. Although it may have been Boone’s buddy, John Finley, who regaled Boone with stories of Kentucky since he had been there trading with the Indians, Boone first went to Kentucky with his brother, Squire, in 1767. It was not Filson or Finley. You got both the people and the dates wrong.”
Rupert shrugged. “So I’m a terrible historian.”
“I’ve been wondering this entire trip why all the subterfuge. What could you possibly hope to gain with this fake expedition? Then it came to me. Everything about this trip is a red herring. John Swift, the mines, the attempts to salt findings. I have only myself to blame. I’ve been hoisted upon my own petard.”
“Let me go, Mona, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
“That sentence doesn’t even make sense. If I let you go, Rupert, how will you be able to explain? You won’t be here. Silly thing to say. No, you will tell me now.”
“What if I don’t,” Rupert said, defiantly.
“Then I shall take your horse, your compass, maps, and your boots. You can walk out of these mountains in your socks. However, without a compass, you’ll be lost since I doubt you know how to navigate your location by the sun or the stars. You’ll wander aimlessly until you die from a slow, lingering death due to starvation. Perhaps someone will find your bones a few years from now. Of course, the panther can always find you, and you’ll be her supper.”
“If you were suspicious, why did you follow me into the mountains?”
“Deatherage never returned my call. Either he couldn’t verify the identity of Rupert Hunt before we left or the telephone lines went down between here and Lexington. Remember, there was a horrible rainstorm that day. I didn’t get to Wendover until late. So, I was left to ferret out the truth myself.”
“If you’re so smart, what do you think is going on?”
“It’s a scam of some sort. Were you salting the finds so I would invest more to underwrite this scheme?”
Rupert snorted in derision. “You really are a dumb blonde.”
“Okay, I’m a dumb blonde. Enlighten me.”
“I will since we’re alone. It will be your word against mine. That’s the funny thing about this—I didn’t kill Chester. I don’t know who killed him, but I have my suspicions.”
“Hmm. Not that I believe you.”
“Chester had a gun. I never have had one on this trip. Never even owned one in my life, so if Chester felt threatened why didn’t he use it on me, Mona?”
“You overpowered him and threw it away.”
“Chester was a much bigger man than me. I would have had to get the gun from the holster inside his buttoned up coat. Even with a broken wing, Chester could have easily thrown me to the ground. Let’s say I did overpower him and got the gun. He would have been facing me. You said he was shot from behind. So according to you, I grabbed the gun while facing him and then ran behind to shoot him. Doesn’t make sense.”
Mona hesitated. She couldn’t deny Rupert’s assessment of the murder.
“I didn’t hurt Chester. It was as I said it was. I found him. He was in the ravine. I didn’t have a long enough rope, and he said he couldn’t climb out. He said he felt dizzy. I came back to base camp for help. Someone came along, got Chester out, and then shot him when Chester wasn’t looking and robbed him.”
“For what purpose, Rupert?”
“The same reason the mules were stolen.”
“Why didn’t they take the horses, then?”
“Maybe they couldn’t. Maybe they didn’t want to leave us stranded yet, but look around. Chester had a ten-dollar and five-dollar bill in his wallet. In these desperate times, that is a motive for murder. I bet Popcorn Pearse did it.”
“If this was a robbery, why didn’t they take the English crowns? They’re silver.”
“Where are you going to spend them? The crowns are a direct link to the murder, but not the paper money.”
“Silver can always be melted.”
“Questions would have been asked about where the silver came from.”
Mona thought for a moment. “What was the purpose of the salting?”
Rupert hung his head and sighed. “I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Why was Chester helping you?”
“I paid him to help me. I told him it was to string you along so you would underwrite future expeditions. Chester needed funding for several of his pet academic projects, so he consented.”
“You conned Chester into conning me.”
“That sizes it up just about. I was plucking two pigeons.”
“For what purpose?”
Rupert nervously paused, straining to hear a horse approach. Just a sharp breeze and the occasional chattering of a squirrel could be heard. Satisfied that they were alone, he said, “It was to keep you actively engaged and interested. To keep you at least two weeks in the mountains without any communication with the outside world.”
Mona stared keenly at Rupert. “In essence, you kidnapped me without my knowing it.”
Rupert nodded.
“How clever of you.”
Rupert smiled. “It was an ingenious plan, wasn’t it? It still is a great plan! The victim is whisked away on a false vacation of sorts, only to return home discovering that a ransom had been issued for her ‘safe return.’ No anxiety for the vic. No emotional damage done.”
“I suppose a ransom has been asked for me.”
“My partner should have already received it in exchange for your safe return.” Rupert sneered a greasy little grin.
“You’ll go to jail.”
“No, I won’t, Mona. How can I be charged with kidnapping when you were never kept against your will? I won’t admit to anything, and you can’t prove I was part of the scam. The most the police will be able to prove is that someone took advantage of your absence.”
“The salting.”
Rupert shrugged. “A practical joke.”
“Then fraud.”
Rupert shook his head. “The worst you can get me on is impersonating another person, but you won’t squeal to the cops. It would get into the newspapers and make you look like a fool, plus it would be bad publicity for your friend, Mary Breckinridge. People like you and she don’t favor publicity. Yeah. You’ll keep this quiet. I’m counting on it.” Rupert took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He took a puff. “I’ll get away with this and the money, too.”
“Not on your life.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“You’re going to go down for murder! You’re forgetting Chester.”
Rupert jumped up with the cigarette dangling from his mouth. “I tell ya I didn’t have anything to do with Chester’s murder.”
“This is going to get in the papers, whether you or I like it or not. You will be exposed for what you are. As soon as Robert catches up, we are going to load Chester’s body on your horse and head down the mountain. Everything will come out.”
“There will be a scandal.”
“Yes, there will be.”
“It will be my word against yours.”
“Nobody is going to believe a grifter like you.”
“We have to get down the mountain first. I’ve been telling you that someone has been following us. Chester confided in me that he felt uneasy. He kept seeing flashes of color in the woods. We are in danger. Listen, Mona, I’m not your enemy. I don’t like violence. It’s not my style. I’m in for the long con. I like fooling people. I don’t like hurting them.”
A rifle shot sounded in the distance.
“What was that?” Rupert said, excitedly.
“Shut up,” Mona demanded. She waited for two other shots, which signaled an SOS.
Another shot sounded.
Rupert shot Mona a glance. “That’s from a different gun.”
“That’s Robert’s pistol firing back. Someone is shooting at him.”
Another rifle shot sounded in the distance.
Mona shoved her gun into its holster and ran to Shaggy. She had difficulty mounting the big horse, but finally managed to right herself in the western saddle before spitting out these words, “If Robert’s hurt because of you, you had better run, Rupert because I’ll find you and kill you myself.” She kicked Shaggy, and they started toward the sound of the shots down the mountain.
Rupert hurriedly put on his boots where Mona had dropped them. “Slow down. Don’t rush. It may be a waylay!” he cried out, but Mona was already gone.
Mona heard Rupert but paid no mind. All she could think of was that her man was in danger. If we get out of this, I’ll marry you, Robert. I swear I will, she thought, pushing tree branches from her face while galloping toward the sound of the shots.
After several fraught moments, Mona slowed down, making her way deep into the woods toward where she thought the shots had occurred. Finding a trail of horse prints in the soft forest loam, Mona followed them until she came to rock outcrop where a man stood over a prone body.
It was Farley lying on the ground not moving. He was hurt—or worse!
Mona pulled her gun out.
Hearing Shaggy whinny, a man swirled around with his double barrel shotgun pointed at Mona.
It was Popcorn Pearse!