His enormous frame nearly filled it.
Voss became visibly uncomfortable.
“Mr. Hale.”
Gideon said nothing.
Elena looked toward her visitor.
“Was there anything else?”
Voss slowly retrieved the envelope.
“No.”
He placed his hat back on his head.
“Good evening, Miss Whitmore.”
She smiled.
“Good evening.”
He left.
The bell rang behind him.
For a moment, Elena remained motionless.
Then she took a slow breath.
Gideon approached.
“You all right?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
He looked toward the door.
“Man's got a strange interest in old paper.”
Elena laughed softly.
Then her expression became serious.
“He offered two hundred dollars.”
Gideon's eyebrows rose.
“For the ledger?”
“For whatever records Aunt Lydia kept.”
He looked toward the storeroom.
“That confirms he's worried.”
Elena nodded.
But she was thinking about something else.
The speed with which Voss had appeared.
They'd only begun examining the records that afternoon.
Somebody knew.
Perhaps they'd been watching the bakery.
Perhaps Rose had been followed.
Or perhaps the company had monitored old Lydia's papers for years, waiting for an excuse to remove them.
Elena looked toward Gideon.
“We shouldn't leave them here overnight.”
He nodded.
“Agreed.”
Then Rose hurried back into the room.
Her face was pale.
“Elena.”
The baker turned.
“What?”
The assistant held a folded paper.
“I found this under the back door.”
Elena took it.
No signature appeared.
Only a short warning.
If the watch has returned, the bakery is no longer safe.
Gideon's face hardened.
Elena stared at the words.
Then glanced toward the dark street.
Someone knew Matthew was alive.
Someone knew she had given Gideon the watch.
And somebody was watching closely enough to understand that Lydia's old accounts might expose the truth.
Gideon placed one hand gently against Elena's shoulder.
“We're leaving.”
She looked up.
“Where?”
“My ranch.”
Elena hesitated.
Then looked toward the bakery.
Her business.
Her livelihood.
The first place she'd ever truly owned.
She couldn't bear the thought of abandoning it.
Gideon saw her expression.
He leaned closer.
“We're not giving up the bakery.”
She swallowed.
He continued.
“We're making sure you're here to open it again.”
For several seconds, she looked into his eyes.
Then slowly nodded.
“All right.”
But as they gathered the ledger, the letters, and Lydia's surviving records, neither noticed the dark figure standing across the street beneath the overhang of the closed general store.
The figure watched Gideon's wagon.