“He ordered Crane arrested.”
“Crane already owned sheriff’s deputy.”
Amos muttered:
“Thomas Weller.”
“Yes.”
Amos knew.
Voss continued:
“Crane threatened Beaumont.”
“With what?”
Lavinia demanded.
“Company.”
“His wife.”
“You.”
Lavinia froze.
“I was nine months old.”
“Yes.”
“Crane had men watching Beaumont house in Boston.”
“He said if Charles testified, child would die before train reached east.”
Lavinia sat slowly.
“No.”
Voss looked ashamed.
“Your father left Colorado because he believed Crane.”
Amos stared.
“He could have sent word later.”
“He tried.”
“When?”
“Three times.”
“To me?”
“Yes.”
“Letters?”
“Intercepted.”
“By whom?”
“Crane.”
Amos took one step toward him.
Voss flinched.
“I delivered mail then.”
“You stole them?”
“I was ordered.”
“How long?”
“Two years.”
Amos’s fist closed.
Lavinia stepped between them.
“Amos.”
He looked at her.
She shook her head.
Not yet.
Voss swallowed.
“Charles eventually found out.”
“He nearly killed me.”
“Instead he paid me.”
Amos laughed harshly.
“Of course.”
“To testify.”
Voss shook head.
“He gave me money to disappear with my wife.”
“To keep Crane from killing us.”
“I went to Oregon.”
“Why come back?”
“My wife died.”
“Crane found me.”
“Offered job.”
“I took it because I was afraid.”
Amos stared with disgust.
Voss accepted it.
“What did my father do after?”
Lavinia asked.
“He destroyed Crane from inside.”
“How?”
“He documented theft.”
“Bribes.”
“Land fraud.”
“Black Hollow.”
“Everything.”
“Why not publish?”
“Because Crane had a copy of something.”
“What?”
Voss hesitated.
“Your father’s signature.”
“On what?”
“A payroll transfer.”
“It looked like Beaumont paid for explosives used sealing tunnel.”
Amos went still.
“That would make him complicit.”
“Yes.”
“Was it forged?”
“I don't know.”
Lavinia’s face crumpled slightly.
Voss continued:
“Charles feared exposing Crane would make public believe he ordered men sealed alive.”
“So he stayed silent.”
Amos whispered.
“For reputation.”
Voss shook head.
“For you.”
Lavinia stared.
“Me?”
“Crane said if Beaumont fell, company would collapse.”
“Your inheritance.”
“Your mother’s security.”
“Your father kept telling himself he would find enough proof to survive scandal.”
“He never did.”
Amos turned toward window.
Twenty-three years.
Not noble silence.
Not simple betrayal.
Fear.
Cowardice.
Protection.
Pride.
All tangled.
Voss looked toward pendant.
“Charles found final proof two months before he died.”
“What?”
Lavinia stood.
“He sent it to Black Hollow.”