“Well, there you go. I told you there’d be nothing in there about him. I hate that he’s going to walk free.”
“Nothing about him byname,” Evan corrected, and placed a sheet of parchment on her lap.
This page was different from the rest. It had clearly come from loose-leaf, as opposed to having been ripped from a bound book. Unlike the barely decipherable scribbles slanting across the captain’s log, this sheet had been outlined with carefully delineated rows and columns in neat boxes.
The top read simply, “Unknown Intermediary.”
The first column was a list of dates the ship had docked in Bournemouth. The second column was a list of the booty they’d brought ashore. The third was the payment extorted by the local contact in exchange for his silence and protection from the law.
“Charts and figures.” The corner of Evan’s mouth quirked as he shook his head. “My brother is a piece of work.”
Susan grinned at him. “I’d wager an examination of these dates against when our friendly magistrate strolled into town would make for a shocking comparison. And perhaps the owners of a certain dress shop would be more than willing to provide corroboration, in exchange for impunity.”
“Here.” Evan pointed at the bottom entry. “Look at the last row. Only the date is filled in. That’s the night Timothy went on his secret mission.”
She stared at the otherwise empty row. Evan was right. “I guess Forrester discovered Timothy’s duplicity before Timothy had a chance to reveal Forrester’s.”
“And the self-righteous cretin murdered my brother on the spot. Red, too.” Evan rose to his feet, his hands going straight to the pair of pistols tucked in his waistband. “Now he’ll pay.”
A distant thunder coalesced into the distinct sound of incoming hoofbeats. More horses. Lots of them. Coming quickly.
This wasn’t a single carriage. This was the army she’d been hoping for.
“Put your pistols away.” She repacked the strongbox and pocketed the key. “We ought to let the law take it from here.”
He was already racing for the trees, weapons in hand.
Chapter 49
Susan tore after him.
Evan had only had a moment’s head start, but keeping up with his breakneck pace was next to impossible whilst clutching a heavy iron box to her chest. Her lungs would explode at any moment. When she flew from the trail to the rock garden, the townsfolk loitering about Moonseed Manor were now crowded amongst the graves with their gazes riveted on the back door.
It was off its hinges. Unsurprising. Given the cockeyed appearance of Timothy’s house after his death, Susan now suspected that the man she loved had a propensity for using any means but a door handle when entering a room in a rage.
Evan had both giant and scarecrow backed up against the wall, just inside the battered doorjamb. He had a pistol aimed at each man’s stomach. Susan approached carefully.
“Where is he?” he demanded. “That toad has to be around here somewhere.”
Both scarecrow and giant glared at him without responding.
The crowd was equally silent, although whether they were afraid any intervention on their part would spur the cornered men into action or cease the spectacle altogether was anyone’s guess.
Susan rested the battered strongbox on her hip and listened for horse hooves. Faint, but increasing. She doubted the townsfolk had registered the significance yet. The Runners were still at least ten minutes away. Which could be good or bad, depending on one’s viewpoint. She shifted the box to the other hip and made her decision.
“Hold them there,” she called out, and marched through the crowded grave garden. People fell aside to let her pass. When she reached Evan, she flashed him a smile to let him know they were in this together, then turned her gaze back toward the slash-faced scarecrow.
“Give me the key.”
He glanced down at the iron box on her hip, but didn’t seem to recognize it for what it was. His tiny black eyes smirked at her.
“Not my box,” he rasped.
“Not that lock,” she returned, wishing she had a pistol to shove in his stick-thin belly, too. “I want the key to release my cousin’s shackles.”
The scarecrow’s black eyes glimmered. “Tell your lover to put his pistols down and I’ll think about it.”
Susan turned to Evan with a sigh. “Shoot him.”
