He turned the Appaloosa and rode away. Without looking over his shoulder, he felt Munro’s eyes on him anyway, gazing after him with what had to be a mixture of hatred, anger, and puzzlement. Munro had been ready to take offense when he thought that Frank was about to accuse him of being involved with the explosion at the Crown Royal, but Frank’s sudden change of tactic had confused him.
That was the idea. It was always better to keep an enemy off balance—and Frank was still convinced that Munro was the enemy. He had put the man on notice that he was going to continue investigating that dynamite blast until he found the true culprits. Maybe that would spook Munro into doing something rash, like trying to have him killed.
Frank hoped that Munro would send a bushwhacker after him. He would take his chances, willing to run the risk because he was confident that if he could get his hands on a prisoner, he could get a confession implicating Munro or Hammersmith—or both of them.
Then, as he had promised Munro, he would see to it that they got what was coming to them.
Hammersmith fully expected Jessica to pull away from him, to slap him across the face, to run screaming for her husband. He figured it would be worth losing his job to taste the sweetness of her mouth and feel the warmth of her body in his arms.
She did none of those things.
Instead, she returned the kiss with the same passionate intensity that Hammersmith put into it.
When she finally took her lips away from his after a long, delicious moment, she said in a half whisper, “My goodness, Gunther, I was beginning to think you were never going to get around to that.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You…you wanted me to kiss you?”
“Of course. What girl wouldn’t want to be kissed by a big, strong, handsome man like you?”
A tiny voice in the back of his head warned him that she had to be flattering him like that for a reason. Big and strong he was, sure enough, but handsome? No one had ever accused him of that.
Logic was one thing, though, and the incredible feeling he had inside him at this moment was something else entirely. Maybe she had some unknown motive for playing up to him. He didn’t care. All he knew was that she hadn’t objected when he kissed her, so he clutched her to him and did it again.
This kiss was just as potent as the first one, but when it ended she put both hands against his broad, muscular chest and said, “That’s enough now. You don’t want to muss me up too much, or Mr. Munro is liable to notice. I don’t want him to know that I’ve been up to any mischief.”
“Neither do I,” Hammersmith agreed. “I don’t want to cause any trouble for you.”
“Then we’ll just pretend this little incident never happened….”
His heart sank.
“Until we get a chance to do it again,” she went on as she reached up to rest a gloved hand against his cheek. “And maybe more.”
Hammersmith’s excitement rose again. “You mean it?”
“Gunther, honey, I never say anything I don’t mean.”
With that statement to give him hope, Hammersmith said, “I guess we’d better get back to the office.”
“Lead the way,” Jessica said with her sweet smile.
Hammersmith took her the rest of the way out of the shaft, letting go of her arm as they emerged into the sunlight. As they started toward the office, he spotted a man riding away. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought the man on horseback was Frank Morgan.
“What the hell?” he muttered.
“Is there a problem?” Jessica asked.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” he answered. He didn’t want her to see how much the idea of Morgan poking around the Alhambra bothered him. He had been able to put aside in his mind that killing from a couple of nights earlier, but he didn’t want Morgan stirring things up again.
When they reached the office, Hamish Munro was waiting on the porch. He looked distracted by something, but he put a smile on his face and asked Jessica, “Did you enjoy your look around the mine, my dear?”
“Very much,” she replied. “Mr. Hammersmith was quite informative about what was going on down there, and he watched out for my safety every step of the way.”
Munro grunted. “That’s good.” He turned his attention to the superintendent. “Hammersmith, I have to talk to you—”
“I’m really a little tired, Hamish,” Jessica broke in. “I’d like to go inside the office to sit down and rest for a while before we start back to town, if that’s all right.”
“Of course,” Munro said. He came down the steps to take her arm and help her up. “You go right on inside. The chair behind the desk isn’t all that comfortable—”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, dear.”
Munro pointed a finger at Hammersmith and ordered, “Wait right there.”
Hammersmith did so, and then after a moment, when Munro came back out of the office, the owner of the Alhambra said, “Let’s walk over toward the shaft.”
The guard asked, “You want me and Billy to come with you, Mr. Munro?”
“No, you can stay here. I’m in no danger here at the mine.”
Munro stalked off toward the shaft. Hammersmith went with him, and as soon as they were out of earshot of the men at the office, he asked in a low voice, “Was that Morgan I saw riding off?”
“It certainly was.”
“What did that bastard want?”
“He believes that you and I are responsible for that explosion at the Crown Royal two nights ago.”
“Damn it!” Hammersmith burst out. “How could he know about—”
Munro lifted a hand and made a curt gesture to stop him. “I don’t know anything about how that explosion happened, Hammersmith, and I want to keep it that way. You’d do well to remember that.”
“Yes, sir,” Hammersmith said. Munro was touchy about things like that and always had been. He would hint around about what he wanted accomplished, but he never wanted to know any of the details of how the dirty work got done. Hammersmith supposed that was Munro’s way of protecting his own ass. Munro wanted to be able to swear in court, if it ever came down to it, that he had no guilty knowledge of anything.
That seemed a little cowardly to Hammersmith, but Munro was the one with the money and power. He was the one who made the rules.
“If Morgan’s not careful, something’s liable to happen to him,” Hammersmith said. “Some folks don’t like it when a lawman starts poking around in their affairs.”
He phrased the comments with care, thinking that this was a damned waste of time. It would be a lot easier if he could just come right out and ask Munro if he wanted the marshal killed.
Munro would balk at that, though, so Hammersmith talked around the idea instead.
After frowning in thought for a moment, Munro said, “I think that’s exactly what Morgan hopes will happen. He’d like to stir up a hornet’s nest so that someone will come after him. The wise thing to do would be to not give the marshal what he wants.”
“It would?” Hammersmith asked, getting a little confused now himself. He wanted to make sure he was clear on what Munro wanted.
“That’s right. Morgan can investigate all he wants to. He’s not going to find out anything. The men who planted that dynamite at the Crown Royal are all dead, aren’t they?”
“Yeah,” Hammersmith said, his voice heavy. “They’re all dead.”
“So if anyone else was involved, Morgan won’t be able to discover it. He’s wasting his time. Doesn’t it seem that way to you?”
Hammersmith knew what Munro was asking. He wanted to know if there was anything to tie the four dead men to either of them. Hammersmith had taken great care to insure that there wasn’t.
“Yeah, he’s wasting his time.”