The revolver struck the floor.
Rusk laughed bitterly.
“Silas should have stayed gone.”
“You killed him?” Clara asked.
“I tried.”
His breath smelled of whiskey and smoke.
“He found the deeds. Thought truth mattered more than survival. I shot him by the river, but he escaped. After that, I kept you under my roof. He knew what would happen if he returned.”
Clara’s eyes filled with tears.
“You told me you loved me like a daughter.”
“I did.”
Rusk’s voice softened with something almost sincere.
“That was the inconvenience.”
He aimed at the pie.
“Now tell me where the records are.”
Caleb looked at Clara.
The smallest movement passed through his face.
A warning.
Clara understood.
She began to laugh.
Rusk stiffened.
“What is funny?”
“You are too late.”
His grip tightened.
“You think the papers in that pie will save you?”
“No.”
Clara looked toward the church doors.
“The papers were never in the pies.”
Caleb’s eyes widened.
This time, his surprise was real.
Rusk spun Clara around.
“What did you say?”
She smiled through her fear.
“My father knew Rusk watched everything,” she said, looking at Caleb now. “But he also knew strangers could be followed.”
Caleb stared at her.
“I found the letter in my father’s coat years ago. Hidden in the lining. I thought it was nonsense until you brought the button.”
Rusk’s face drained of color.
Clara continued.
“The ledgers were never meant to travel out of Red Creek. The pies were a diversion.”
“Where are they?” Rusk demanded.
Clara’s gaze lifted toward the ceiling.
Above them, the church bell rang again.
Father Daniel had reached the rope outside.
“The bell,” Clara said.
Rusk looked up.
Inside the hollow bronze bell, hidden for twenty years, were the original ledgers.
Her father had concealed them before fleeing.
And every year, on the anniversary of his disappearance, Clara had unknowingly helped Father Daniel polish that bell.
Rusk shoved her aside and ran toward the stairs leading to the tower.
He made it three steps.
The church doors opened.