Chapter 8 - The Knife in Voss’s Chest
Silas disappeared.
The county decided his guilt before breakfast.
Hannah did not.
She had learned what easy answers cost.
Voss's body had been found beside Cottonwood Creek.
Silas's knife was obvious.
Too obvious.
Caleb agreed.
They examined Voss's abandoned office with Sheriff Cole.
Hannah discovered correspondence with railroad investors.
One letter mentioned an unnamed partner.
Another warned that “Reed has become unreliable.”
Silas.
But a third contained something unexpected.
Dr. Warren will maintain the necessary medical explanation.
Hannah's blood chilled.
Doc Warren.
The man who had treated Rebecca.
The man who certified pneumonia.
The man who treated Silas after both shootings.
They rode to his clinic.
Empty.
Medicine cabinets stripped.
Horse gone.
On the desk was a train schedule.
Miles City.
They reached the station minutes before departure.
Warren saw them.
He ran.
Caleb caught him near the platform.
Under questioning, Warren broke.
Voss had paid him.
Rebecca had not died of pneumonia.
She had been poisoned slowly with arsenic.
Caleb turned away.
Hannah had never seen grief become rage so quickly.
She stepped between him and Warren.
“Don't.”
“He killed her.”
“Then make him say it in court.”
Caleb's fists shook.
Eventually they opened.
Warren confessed to poisoning Rebecca under Voss's orders.
But he denied killing Voss.
“Silas didn't either.”
“How do you know?” Hannah asked.
“Because Silas came to me that night.”
“For what?”
“A bullet wound.”
Hannah froze.
Silas had been shot again.
Warren treated him secretly.
Someone else killed Voss and framed Silas.
“Who?”
Warren looked terrified.
“Voss's partner.”
“Name.”
“I don't know.”
Hannah leaned forward.
“You do.”
Warren shook his head.
Then Caleb placed the railway letters on the table.
Warren saw one signature.
His face collapsed.
“Judge Harland.”
The territorial judge.
The same man to whom Hannah's father had once tried to send evidence.
The man scheduled to preside over Hannah's land hearing.
The corruption went higher than any of them imagined.
They returned home after dark.
The house was silent.
Too silent.
Samuel and Ben should have been arguing.
Lucy should have run to meet them.
Caleb drew his revolver.
Hannah opened the kitchen door.
The children were there.
Safe.
So was Silas.
He sat at the table, pale from blood loss.
Beside him lay the missing sealed envelope addressed to Judge Harland.
Silas looked at Hannah.
“Your father trusted the wrong judge.”
May you like
He pushed the envelope toward her.
“And tomorrow morning, that judge is coming here.”
