The picture was of the Lavina and Hubbard they knew, wearing the same clothes Westie remembered them wearing at the cabin when they’d killed her family.
“They must have met the mayor when they were in jail together.” Westie looked at the dates on the different stories. The O’Brians and Ben Chambers had been arrested on the same day. “It all makes sense now. Ben Chambers wanted to be mayor more than anything, but he had to get James Lovett Senior out of the way first. Only his greed didn’t stop there. He wanted the Lovett fortune as well. He couldn’t steal it—that amount of gold is too difficult to move without raising suspicion. An agreement must have been made between the mayor and the O’Brians to share the fortune. That’s why he’s so protective of them. He’s protecting his investment.”
Alistair folded the paper neatly and handed it back to Westie to put in a satchel she found nearby to keep dry. “But why would they stay in Rogue City for Emma after we’ve already accused them of cannibalism? It seems like too great a risk.”
Westie grabbed her satchel. “It does seem that way, but it doesn’t matter. This photo proves they’re imposters.” She took Alistair by the face, her smile bursting from somewhere deep within, and kissed the part of his mask where his lips would be. “We finally have them, Alley! Let’s get home. We’ve got a necktie social to plan for.”
Thirty-Eight
Standing outside the Fairfield home, Westie imagined the ghosts of the O’Brians’ victims wandering the empty rooms, looking for escape. How many horrifying, unspeakable things had those walls witnessed?
“We should burn it down,” Westie said.
Alistair pushed the wet hair from his eyes, the voice box of his mask flooded from the rain and gurgling when he spoke. “The authorities will want to see inside.”
Westie frowned, knowing he was right. “Should we send Nigel a telegraph bird, tell him what we found?”
“Too easy to intercept.”
She filled her lungs and blew the air out. “If we leave now, we’ll make it home by morning.”
Alistair put a hand on her shoulder, kneading the taut muscles just below the skin. “We’ll never make it if we run our horses into the ground. Let’s get food and some sleep. We’ll stay at an inn here and leave first thing in the morning and be there by sundown tomorrow like we promised Nigel.”
Westie’s arms and legs itched with nervous energy. There was no way she’d be able to sleep, but he was right about the horses.
Nodding, she took one last look at the house, then tried to erase it from her mind forever.
They left before the sun was up the next morning. Henry was a fast horse, and so was Alistair’s mare, but for Westie it felt like they were standing still. No matter how much distance they chewed up, there was always more ahead.
They reached the mansion before sundown. Westie didn’t wait for Henry to stop before sliding off his back and landing like a cat on all fours. She sprang toward the steps despite her aching backside and numb feet. She couldn’t wait to tell Nigel the news.
Inside, Lucky’s barks, Jezebel’s howls, and the sound of claws scratching at a door came from somewhere upstairs.
“Nigel!” she shouted.
Alistair’s calls echoed behind hers.
The clamor of footfalls woke the quiet house as she took two steps at a time. She found Jezebel and Lucky locked up in the library. After letting them out and checking the other rooms, she met Alistair in the great room.
“Emma is gone,” he said. “I remember Nigel mentioning before we left that he was going to have James help him move it into the mine.”
Westie’s heart felt like there was an orchestra in her chest, building to its crescendo.
“I have a bad feeling about this, Alley.”
The look in his eyes told her he felt it too, but his body stayed straight, unwavering. He was trying to be strong, she realized.
“I’m sure everything is fine. Nigel and James are together, and Nigel knows the threat of the Fairfields. No one could’ve gotten into this mansion uninvited.”
“No, not with Lucky and Jezebel in the house, but they’re shut away in a room. Why would Nigel do something like that when he knows the Fairfields are gunning for us?”
Alistair tossed his hat to the side and pulled his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. I mean he wouldn’t, I don’t think. But before we panic, let’s go look for him. He may be in the mine, perfectly safe, and we’re worrying about nothing.”
“Let’s get over there before it gets too dark to see where we’re going.”
Westie grabbed a telegraph bird from Nigel’s office on her way to the foyer.
“What’s that for?” Alistair asked when Westie bent over a table to scribble a note.
“I’m letting the sheriff know we have the evidence we need against the Fairfields as well as against the mayor. He’s closer to the mine than we are. We can meet there and form a plan.”
She rolled the note and stuffed it into the bird’s metal beak and sent it on its way. As she was about to head out the door, she saw a spot of red on the edge of the table.