Daniel felt anger rise in his chest.
He kept his face still.
“Murder?”
“Samuel Price.”
Daniel stared at him.
“Samuel's dead?”
Crowe watched him carefully.
“You didn't know?”
“No.”
The sheriff's eyes narrowed.
“That's unfortunate.”
“Why?”
“Because the women who killed him may be somewhere on your property.”
Daniel slowly straightened.
“You have proof they killed him?”
“Witnesses.”
“Who?”
“Wade Briggs and several other men.”
Daniel almost laughed.
Instead, he folded his arms.
“Briggs works for Voss.”
“He also witnessed the shooting.”
“And Samuel?”
“What about him?”
“Samuel was your deputy. A good one. You knew him since he was a boy.”
Crowe looked away.
“Yes.”
“Then you ought to be certain who killed him before you start accusing people.”
The sheriff's expression hardened.
“Careful, Daniel.”
“Why?”
“You're speaking to an officer of the law.”
Daniel glanced at the silver star.
“That's what worries me.”
Crowe took one step toward him.
“You've been living alone out here too long. You've forgotten how things work.”
“No. I remember exactly how things work.”
“Then you know I can search this property.”
“With a warrant.”
“I have one.”
Crowe reached inside his coat and produced a folded document.
Daniel took it.
The paper was damp around the edges.
He unfolded it beneath the stove light.
It was a search warrant bearing the signature of Judge Horace Bell.
Daniel knew the judge.
He also knew that Bell owed Caleb Voss nearly six thousand dollars.
He examined the date.
Then the time.
His eyes narrowed.
“This was signed yesterday afternoon.”
“Yes.”
“Before Samuel Price was killed.”
Crowe said nothing.
Daniel looked up.
“Interesting.”
“The warrant concerns stolen documents.”
“Then why did you tell me you're hunting murderers?”
“Because the charges have changed.”
“But the warrant hasn't.”
Crowe's face darkened.
“I'm not here to debate legal technicalities.”
“That's usually what men say when the law gets inconvenient.”
The sheriff snatched the paper back.
“You've always been difficult.”
“Only when people ask me to do something stupid.”
Crowe took a long breath.
“Listen carefully. Caleb Voss believes the Whitmore women have stolen business records belonging to him. He wants those records returned.”
“Then let him file a complaint.”
“He has.”
“And let the court decide.”
“The court has.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Funny how quickly the court works when Voss wants something.”
Crowe's eyes flashed.
“Enough.”
The word rang through the kitchen.
Beneath the floor, Rachel pressed a hand over Lucy's mouth.
Abigail held her breath.
Daniel did not move.
Crowe lowered his voice.
“You don't understand what you're getting involved in.”
“Then explain it.”
“I can't.”
“Won't.”
“Call it whatever you like.”
The sheriff stepped closer.
“Those women are in danger. Anyone helping them is in danger. If they're here, the safest thing you can do is hand them over.”
Daniel stared at him.
“Safest for whom?”
Crowe looked exhausted.
For one brief moment, something like shame passed across his face.
Then it vanished.
“You have until sunrise,” he said.
Daniel frowned.
“For what?”
“To decide whether you want to cooperate.”
“And if I don't?”
Crowe reached for his hat.
“Then I come back with enough men to search every inch of this ranch.”
Daniel stepped between him and the door.
“Nathaniel.”
The sheriff stopped.
“Did Samuel Price deserve what happened to him?”
Crowe's expression changed.
“Of course not.”
“Then tell me who killed him.”
“I told you.”
“No. You told me what Briggs said.”
The sheriff stared at the floor.
Daniel continued.
“Samuel was young. He believed in that badge. He believed in you.”
Crowe closed his eyes briefly.
“Don't.”
“He followed you because he thought you were a decent man.”
“Daniel.”
“And now you're standing in my kitchen repeating lies told by the man who shot him.”
Crowe's hand moved toward his revolver.
Daniel's voice dropped.
“Don't do that.”
The sheriff froze.
For several seconds, neither man moved.
Then Crowe slowly lowered his hand.
“You think you're the only man who's ever lost something?” he whispered.
Daniel studied him.
“What did Voss take from you?”
Crowe's eyes widened.
The question had struck something deep.
But the sheriff recovered quickly.
“You have until sunrise.”
He moved past Daniel and opened the door.
Cold air swept into the kitchen.
On the porch, Crowe paused.
Without turning, he said quietly, “There are things buried in this county that ought to stay buried.”
Daniel looked toward the notebook hidden beneath his coat.
“Some things don't stay buried forever.”
Crowe stepped into the rain.
The door closed.
Daniel listened until the horses rode away.
Then he waited another full minute.
Only when he was certain the sheriff had gone did he move the kitchen rug and lift the cellar door.
Rachel emerged first.
Her face was furious.
“You should have shot him.”
Daniel stared at her.
“No.”
“He's working for Voss!”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“People do bad things for different reasons.”
“That doesn't make them innocent.”
“No,” Daniel said. “It doesn't.”
Abigail climbed out behind her.
She looked pale but composed.
“Did he mean it? Will he come back at sunrise?”
“Yes.”
Lucy appeared last.
“Then we have to leave.”
Daniel shook his head.
“Not yet.”
Rachel stared at him.
“You heard him.”
“I did.”
“Then why are we still standing here?”
Daniel walked to the table and opened Eleanor's notebook.
“Because running won't solve this.”
Abigail approached him.
“What are you thinking?”
Daniel turned the notebook toward her.
On the page marked Blackstone, several lines of numbers had been written beneath the names.
Coordinates.
Survey references.
Land descriptions.
And beside one entry, a small drawing of three bells.
Daniel tapped the illustration.
“Your father's note mentioned a third bell.”
Abigail nodded.
“When the third bell sounds.”
Daniel pointed to the page.
“Eleanor drew these five years ago.”
Lucy leaned forward.
“What are they?”
Daniel looked at the sisters.
“Church bells.”
Rachel frowned.
“There's only one church in Silver Creek.”
“Now,” Daniel said.
He turned the page.
“But twenty years ago, there were three.”
Abigail stared at him.
“What happened to the others?”
“One burned down. The other was abandoned when the mining settlement collapsed.”
“Where?”
Daniel looked toward the northern hills.
“Blackstone Ridge.”
The room fell silent.
Then Lucy whispered, “Our father's old mining cabin is on Blackstone Ridge.”
Daniel nodded.
“And if I'm right, the secret your father died protecting is still there.”
Abigail looked toward the window.
The sky beyond the mountains was beginning to lighten.
Dawn was less than two hours away.
Daniel closed the notebook.