Jennie folded herself onto the seat of a picnic table in front of the Burger Barn. “Thanks,” she said as Elliot set a large burger, fries, and a Diet Coke in front of her. He sat opposite her with the identical fare. She tried not to look surprised when he bowed his head and said grace.
Jennie lifted the burger to her mouth. Elliot watched as she took the first bite. “Good, huh?”
She nodded. “Mmmm.”
“This is one of the original eating places in Cottonwood. My great-grandfather, Frank Elliot, practically built this town.”
“I know. Joseph told me a lot about him. Sounds like he was a wonderful person.”
“It blows me away to think about it sometimes. Frank settled here back in the late eighteen hundreds. These are my roots. Ever since I was a little kid I dreamed of coming home to Dancing Waters.” He stopped to take another bite of his burger, then went on, “Do you know how Dancing Waters got its name?”
Jennie nodded while she finished a French fry. “Joseph told me. It’s such a sad story.”
“I wish I’d talked to him before all this happened. Now that I’ve been established as ‘the enemy’ I’ll probably never hear the full story. My lawyer started proceedings before I knew much of anything about the history of the place.”
“Why don’t you talk to him anyway? Joseph is one of the nicest and wisest men I’ve ever met. I’m sure he’d be happy to tell you about your family.”
“I’d like to, but Bennett, that’s my lawyer, says I shouldn’t.” He sighed. “I never could understand why my father left. Our roots are here and I had to come back.”
She’d been wrong about Chad Elliot, Jennie realized. She’d judged and convicted him without hearing his side. “It must have been a shock to discover the land had been sold.”
“Shock? That’s putting it mildly. I was angry and hurt when the lawyer contacted me, so I decided to fight for what was rightfully mine. I’m not after all that much, you know. Just enough land to raise horses and a few head of cattle. I want to get married someday and rear my children here …”
“What if you lose? What if you find out that Dancing Waters really does belong to Joseph? What will you do?”
He gave her a look of surprise. “White Cloud owns the land free and clear. I’m not contesting that.”
“I don’t understand. If you’re not disputing ownership, what are the lawsuit and criminal charges about?”
“When I first found out about the land deal, I thought Joseph had taken advantage of my grandfather’s alcoholism and had swindled him. But that wasn’t the case. My grandfather sold the land with the idea of being able to buy it back someday. He died before he had the opportunity. Daniel—my father—didn’t care. I do. All I’m asking for is the right to buy back part of the land Joseph plans to deed over to the park service. I still don’t understand what the problem is. The bank has offered to loan me a hundred percent of the purchase price. It’ll be a big mortgage, but I’m sure I can handle it.”
“You just want to buy some of the land back? Do Joseph and Jeff know that?” Jennie doubted it.
“I assumed so. My lawyer’s been negotiating with the White Clouds for months.” He looked at his watch again. “I must be going. Thanks for listening. You’re the first person I’ve actually talked to about my agenda other than my lawyer.”
“I still think you should talk to Jeff and Joseph yourself. I have a feeling your lawyer may not be representing your best interests.”
He grinned. “Now I don’t feel so bad. You’re suspicious of everyone, aren’t you? But don’t worry. I had Greg Bennett checked out before I hired him. He’s well thought of in the community. His great-grandfather was one of the founding fathers. I’ll talk to him, though—make sure we’re communicating on the same level.” He gathered their trash, dumped it in a nearby container, then waved goodbye. “Give my regards to your family.”
Jennie walked the block and a half from the Burger Barn to the Cottonwood Historical Society. Now she could narrow down her list of suspects by one. Unfortunately, she had to add another—Greg Bennett. Bennett. Hmm. She dug into her memory, knowing she’d heard his name in another context. Nadi’s diary. The Reverend Joshua Bennett. Could the lawyer be a relative? Had the Reverend passed the secret of the mine down to his sons and grandsons?
Cottonwood’s historical society was housed in the Dayton Mansion. Myrtle Dayton, a white-haired volunteer who had to be at least eighty, greeted Jennie at the door. “Oh, do come in. You’re my first visitor today. What can I do for you?”
“I’d like some information on Cottonwood back in the late 1800s—like the people who lived here then and who still have relatives living here today. Some information about the—”
“Wait,” Mrs. Dayton interrupted. “Let me show you around the house first. It has a fascinating history. I grew up here, and when my parents died I donated it to the citizens of Cottonwood. It has most of the original furniture and looks much like it did when my grandfather Alexander Dayton had it built.”
“Are you related to Alex Dayton, at the bank?” Jennie asked.
“He’s my nephew.” She pointed to a little boy in a family portrait. “There. My brother’s son. Such a sweet boy. I live with him and his family.”
“Is that his sister standing next to him?” Jennie asked.
Myrtle nodded. “Melissa is a Bennett now. Both of the children married well. My how the time flies. It seems like only yesterday I was changing their diapers and now their children are almost grown.”
“Melissa Bennett? Greg Bennett’s wife?” Jennie asked.
“Why, yes. Fine family. His father and grandfather were both ministers.”
“Was his grandfather the Reverend Joshua Bennett?”
Myrtle gave her a look of surprise. “As a matter of fact, he was.”
Excitement shivered up her spine. Now she was getting somewhere. Greg Bennett must have found out about the mine from his grandfather. What was it Chad had said—that Bennett had contacted him? She could hardly wait to get back to the ranch and report her findings to Jeff and Joseph.
As they were walking through the kitchen, Jennie heard a scraping noise that seemed to be coming from the basement. “What’s that?” Jennie asked.
“Oh, I’m so embarrassed. It appears we have squirrels or some such animal.” She shuddered. “I’ve called the exterminator and he should be out this afternoon.”
Obviously embarrassed, Myrtle hurried Jennie out of the kitchen into the gift shop, where she helped Jennie pick out several books, journals, and pamphlets about the area and the early settlers. She gave Jennie photocopies of family trees—Elliot, White Cloud, VonHassen, Danielson, Mason, Dayton, Bennett, and any other families with roots going back into the late 1800s. Myrtle even loaned her a set of tapes telling the history of the area, which Jennie planned to listen to on her way back to the ranch.
“There are so many stories, dear. It’s wonderful that a girl your age would take an interest in the past. So many don’t, you know. My grandchildren, for example, haven’t the vaguest interest. Except for Carey—that’s Melissa’s little girl. I have a feeling she’ll end up being a lawyer like her daddy.” She sighed. “There I go, rambling on again.”
When she finally left the Dayton Mansion, Jennie’s brain felt sluggish. Jennie had a hunch the past played an important role in the case and only by unraveling it would the crimes of the present make sense. She needed a clear view of how their lives had connected and intertwined then and now.
On her way back to the car her certainty of Greg Bennett’s guilt began to waver. She thought again about her talk with Chad Elliot. Had Greg Bennett been misrepresenting him? The times she’d seen Bennett, he’d seemed abrupt and cool—except toward Maggie—when he’d been out at the ranch. The way he’d talked, Jennie had gotten the impression he and his wife and Jeff and Maggie were friends. A moment ago she’d been ready to close the case, now she wasn’t so sure.
Jennie’s thoughts were interrupted by protests of two men standing on the steps outside the sheriff’s office.
“Luke, you have to stop him.” Alex Dayton followed the deputy down the steps. “Surely there’s been some mistake. Sam can’t be serious.”
“’Fraid so. I’m supposed to meet him out at Dancing Waters. He’s called for armed backup in case there’s trouble.” Luke ducked into a squad car and peeled out.
“What’s going on?” Jennie asked breathlessly as she came alongside Dayton. “What’s he talking about?”
Dayton looked at her with a dazed expression—as if she were the last person he’d expected to see. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Do you believe in God, Jennie?”
“Sure. Why?”
“Then you’d better start saying your prayers. If I know Sheriff Mason, he’s got an army of deputies out there. Most of them are members of the militia group, and there isn’t a one that wouldn’t like to see Jeff White Cloud dead.”
“The militia—can’t we stop them?” Jennie gasped. A mass of knots settled in her stomach.
“I’m afraid not. We’ll just have to hope Jeff gives up without a fight. Somehow I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”
“The sheriff’s gone to arrest him?”
“That’s right.”
“On what charge?” The sheriff had speculated about Jeff, but as far as she knew he didn’t have any proof.
“I’m not sure. Conspiracy, fraud, maybe even murder. He thinks White Cloud is behind the whole thing. Even set up the explosion.”
“But that’s not possible.”
“I didn’t think so either, but sometimes people aren’t what they seem. The sheriff mentioned the possibility of Jeff’s involvement and told me I’d be wise to pull my financial support.”
Jennie stared at the man. How could he be thinking of money at a time like this? “Excuse me, Mr. Dayton. I need to find a way to stop Sheriff Mason. I have a pretty good idea now of who’s behind this, and it is not my uncle.”
Jennie hesitated. “Um…could I use your cell phone ? I need to call the state patrol to let them know what the sheriff is doing.”
Dayton padded his pockets and shook his head. “I didn’t bring it with me.” He frowned. You said you knew who was behind all this?”
“Yes, but I don’t have time to talk about it right now. I need to call the authorities.”
“Listen, the bank is just across the street, you can call from there.
Within a few minutes Jennie was sitting in Alex Dayton’s executive chair, dialing the State Patrol. She explained her concerns to the operator, then again to a man she assumed was an officer.
“Thank you for calling, Miss McGrady,” he said when she finished. “We’ll take your complaint about the sheriff’s department under consideration. I’ll pass the information along and have an officer get back to you.” Before Jennie could argue, the man hung up.
Jennie slammed the phone down.
“Having trouble?” Dayton came back into the office.
“Yes. They said they’d get back to me.” She looked up another number and dialed Joseph’s cabin.
“Who are you trying now?”
“Joseph. Maybe he went back home. He’ll know what to do.” Jennie wished the banker would leave, but couldn’t very well ask him to mind his own business. It was his office. Besides, he seemed as concerned about the situation as she did.
“No problem. I’ve got to lock up—I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Dayton left, closing the door behind him.
Joseph didn’t answer. Frustrated, Jennie hung up. She placed her cast on the desk and in the process of standing, knocked off a pile of papers that had been precariously stacked near the edge.
“Clumsy,” Jennie muttered as she stooped to pick them up. She gathered the papers and reached for an envelope that had sailed under the chair. The name “Eric Summers” was written on it. Jennie lifted the flap and peered inside. Her heart beat a path to her throat.
Inside was a check signed by Jeff White Cloud made out to Eric Summers in the amount of ten thousand dollars. According to the date it had been drawn that day. She couldn’t be certain, but the signature resembled the handwriting on the two death threats. Her heart stopped. Could the sheriff have been right after all? Had Jeff paid Eric to kidnap Heather? One thing she knew for certain—Eric did not make that kind of money taking photos and doing odd jobs on the ranch.
Wait a minute, McGrady, back up. What’s the check doing in Mr. Dayton’s office? Could this be some of the paperwork he’d brought by the ranch yesterday? If so, he had to be involved somehow. The entire affair was beginning to look like a massive conspiracy. Jennie knew she couldn’t rule out any suspects yet, but she just couldn’t imagine her uncle being involved in something so sinister.
Jennie rummaged through the desk. In the third drawer down, buried beneath a stack of Dayton’s stationery, she found two yellowed pages from Nadi’s diary. Jennie left the evidence in place and eased the drawer closed.
The doorknob clicked and turned. Jennie slipped the check to Eric back into the envelope and buried it in the pile of papers. She’d been fast, but not fast enough. Dayton looked from the papers on the desk to her face.
Jennie’s stomach lurched, threatening to set her buffalo burger free. “Some papers fell on the floor,” she explained in what she hoped was a calm voice. “I was just picking them up for you.”
“Is that right?” Their gazes collided. His kind blue eyes had turned an iron gray.
“You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?”
“What do you mean?” Jennie feigned innocence, hoping she’d read him wrong.
Alex Dayton’s eyes showed a trace of regret. He reached inside his suit jacket as if going for a gun. Jennie flinched—he was going to kill her.