“Your mother was sick.”
“With what?”
“Ask Vale.”
Everyone turned.
Vale looked terrified.
Marshal Rourke said, “Doctor?”
Vale swallowed.
“She had gastric disease.”
Beatrice opened another envelope.
Dr. Hale had reviewed Eleanor’s old medical notes from Nathaniel’s archive.
“Symptoms consistent with chronic arsenic exposure,” Beatrice read.
Vale shook his head.
“Consistent is not proof.”
Beatrice nodded.
“You’re right.”
The doctor looked surprised.
She continued.
“So we found proof.”
Marcus’s face changed.
Caleb had not known this part.
Beatrice looked toward Marshal Rourke.
He opened a box.
Inside were small bottles recovered from an old locked cabinet in Vale’s surgery after a warrant granted the previous evening.
Arsenic.
Ledger entries.
Payments from Marcus Bell.
Monthly.
Dating back fourteen years.
Including the months before Eleanor’s death.
Vale collapsed into a chair.
Marcus looked at him.
“You idiot.”
The entire room froze.
Marcus realized what he said.
Marshal Rourke smiled without humor.
“Continue.”
Marcus stood abruptly.
Caleb rose.
Deputies moved.
Marcus pulled a pistol from beneath his coat.
Everything changed at once.
The county clerk screamed.
Caleb stepped in front of Beatrice.
Marcus pointed the gun.
“Move.”
“No.”
“Caleb.”
Beatrice’s voice.
He did not move.
Marcus’s hand shook.
“You think she loves you?”
Caleb stared.
“Not relevant.”
“She married you to escape.”
“I know.”
That answer confused Marcus.
“She used you.”
“I know why she came.”
Marcus looked toward Beatrice.
“You told him?”
“Yes.”
“You stupid girl.”
Caleb moved.
Marcus swung the gun toward him.
Beatrice grabbed the heavy ink bottle from the table and threw it.
It struck Marcus’s wrist.
The pistol fired into the ceiling.
Deputies tackled him.
Caleb crossed the distance in two steps.
Marshal Rourke shouted.
“Mercer!”
Caleb stopped himself before hitting Marcus.
Barely.
Beatrice stood behind him breathing hard.
Caleb turned immediately.
“You hurt?”
“No.”
He checked anyway.
“Caleb.”
“I know.”
“You’re doing it again.”
“I know.”
Her hands were shaking.
He took them.
Across the room Marcus screamed about betrayal.
Vale began crying.
The mine investors stared at everything with the expressions of men calculating both moral outrage and financial consequences.
Nathaniel sat beside Beatrice.
“Happy birthday.”
She stared at him.
Then began laughing.
Caleb laughed too.
It was the wrong moment.
That made it better.
The investigation lasted months.
Marcus Bell was charged with attempted murder, conspiracy, fraud, embezzlement from the Holloway trust, falsification of medical records, and suspected involvement in Eleanor’s death.
Dr. Edwin Vale confessed before trial.
He had first given Eleanor low-dose arsenic at Marcus’s request to produce weakness.
Marcus wanted her legally incapacitated long enough to assume permanent control of the mine.
When Eleanor discovered missing funds and threatened exposure, doses increased.
Vale claimed he never intended her death.
Nobody believed that distinction mattered.
Beatrice’s poisoning followed the same pattern.
Weakness first.
Death if necessary.
Or a physician’s certification of incapacity if she survived.
Marcus’s plan for Caleb was equally cold.
The mountain man owed money.
Lived alone.