“Six weeks ago, the city began relocating graves from St. Anselm’s cemetery because of drainage collapse.”
“Whitmore’s coffin was opened for transfer.”
He paused.
“Empty.”
Clara’s fingers dug into the chair.
“That’s impossible.”
“It contained bricks.”
A blanket.
“And sand.”
“No remains.”
The room tilted.
Clara stood abruptly.
“No.”
She walked toward stove.
Then window.
Snow blurred everything outside.
Behind her Jonah said gently:
“I’m sorry.”
She turned.
“You think he’s alive.”
“I think someone worked very hard to make everyone believe he was dead.”
Ethan finally asked the question Clara feared.
“Was he a good husband?”
She closed her eyes.
“No.”
The answer seemed to change the temperature of the room.
Ethan’s face became unreadable.
Jonah looked away respectfully.
Clara continued.
“He drank.”
“Gambled.”
“Had debts.”
“He could be charming when sober.”
“Cruel when he wasn’t.”
Her voice tightened.
“He never broke bones.”
She hated herself for saying it that way.
As if harm required a fracture to count.
“He shoved me.”
“Locked me in rooms.”
“Controlled money.”
“Once left me outside overnight because I contradicted him in front of business associates.”
Ethan’s hand tightened around rifle stock.
Clara noticed.
“Don’t.”
“I’m standing here.”
“Doing nothing.”
She almost laughed from gratitude.
Jonah asked:
“Did Gideon ever mention a man named Sebastian Crowe?”
Clara frowned.
“No.”
“Blackwood Mining Consortium?”
Ethan’s eyes changed.
“My family has no consortium.”
Jonah looked toward him.
“I know.”
“Then why my name?”
“That’s why I rode here.”
He removed another document.
A land claim.
Signed six months after Gideon’s supposed death.
The owner listed:
GIDEON WHITMORE, acting through Blackwood Frontier Holdings.
Ethan stared.
“I’ve never heard of that company.”
Jonah nodded.
“Neither has Montana Territory.”
“Fake corporation.”
“Using your surname.”
“Why?”
Jonah looked toward Clara.
“Because Gideon was planning to come west.”
Clara felt sick.
“When?”
“Before the fire.”
Ethan sat.
“Why Montana?”
Jonah slid forward a map.
A red line crossed mountain country.
Including Ethan’s property.
“Rail survey.”
Ethan studied it.
“There’s no approved railway through here.”
“No.”
“But there might be.”
Jonah tapped the map.
“Eastern investors believe a private route could connect timber and mineral claims north of Red Hollow.”
“Your land sits across the most practical pass.”
Ethan looked at Clara.
Then Jonah.
“You’re telling me her dead husband faked his death because he wanted my land before she ever answered my advertisement?”
“No.”
Jonah’s expression hardened.
“I’m telling you somebody using Gideon Whitmore’s identity was preparing to acquire your land.”
“That may be Gideon.”
“It may be someone else.”
Clara whispered:
“Why follow me?”
Jonah answered:
“Because when you left Boston, someone broke into the boardinghouse the next day.”
Clara stared.
“What did they take?”
“Nothing.”