Dulcinea struggled in her chair. “It was you! You killed them!”
He held up a hand. “Please, allow me to finish my story. I’ve never had the opportunity to share it with anyone, and I’m receiving a certain pleasure from the telling.”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Graver knew Chance was going to kill them when he was done. He brought his hands to rest under his chin and gnawed again at the edge of the cloth. Even a small tear would weaken it.
“I lured her into the hills, well, took her to a place we could conduct our discussion in private. Can you believe my luck, though? I’d only begun burying her when my horse whinnied and I hid, just as your husband trotted up. Down he swings, walks right over to the girl’s body, leaving me no choice at all—I had to shoot him.” He scrubbed his face again with a low moan. “I was ready to convince him to join the oil and gas venture, too. Terrible luck.
“My quiet place turns out to be more like a county fair. Before I can bury the girl and J.B., I see another rider coming over the hill in the distance, so I decide there’s only so many people a man can kill in one morning before someone hears the shots and brings a bigger gun. I slip away. Then I’m guessing it’s you who comes up, Mr. Graver, followed by one of the Bennett boys—Cullen or Hayward? My money’s on Hayward, am I right?” He peered at Graver and nodded. “Thought so. Cullen hated his father too much to shoot a man he suspected of killing him.”
Chance stood, pulled out his revolver. “Rose found the necklace. Star’s sister. Again, my unbelievable luck.” He paused and waved the gun in the air. “It doesn’t really matter. I’ll be dealing with her when the time comes. You understand, Graver. A man has experiences in war like no other. You fall through the world and then bang, you’re back again!”
He aimed the gun at Graver and shot him in the thigh. Graver’s leg went numb first, followed by a stabbing pain, and he gritted his teeth against it.
Dulcinea yelled and jerked against the strips of cloth that held her to the chair. His body was tense with shock and pain as blood pooled on the floor beneath him.
“Now let’s chat. You can see the problem with me acting as your lawyer when I’m supposed to be dead. No, I’m afraid it’s not going to work. But don’t worry, I have another plan.”
“It was you stabbed Drum,” Dulcinea said, her tone flat.
“I tried to persuade him to work with me, but we couldn’t come to an agreement, so he had to go. Lucky you.
“I need you to sign your mineral and surface rights over to me, Dulcinea. You won’t need them. I’ve decided to let you keep the land, but I need those rights so we can drill this whole region. Oil and gas. Can you imagine how rich I’ll be? If you choose, we’ll be married, and I can keep my name clear of any scandal from recent episodes. That’s how we’ll think of them in years to come, isn’t it, my darling?”
Dulcinea struggled to reply, and Graver swung his legs at Chance’s chair with the intent to tip it over. Chance sensed the motion and kicked his wounded leg. Graver fought to remain conscious. “Try that again, I’ll gut shoot you.”
He turned back to Dulcinea and stroked her bloody cheek with the back of his hand. “You were separated from your husband for so long, I doubt there’s any feelings left to be awkward between us, are there?”
She shook her head. “I thought you were dead. I was going to contact you to sell the rights, but you died.” She looked puzzled. “Who did they bury?”
Chance laughed and shook his head. “Damned if I know. Man stood in front of my buggy as I was leaving after taking care of Drum in the alley, so I ran him down. I’ll tell you, getting him out of his clothes, into mine, well, it was no Sunday picnic. I did a fair job, though. Fools buried him as me. And that, my dear, is the luck that always saves me.” He bowed.
“You surprise me,” she said. “How are you going to explain coming back from the dead?”
“Mistakes were made. They buried the wrong man. I need a few weeks unhampered to put all the pieces together. I could disappear for a time, let everyone forget me, then take the signed papers to Denver and work directly with the company from there. No one here the wiser, especially if the last two heirs meet with the kind of violent accidents that seem to plague your family.” Chance cocked his head and raised his brows. “I should be insulted that you imagined this cowboy”—he nodded at Graver—“had the wit to accomplish what I have.”
There was a timid knock on the door, then it pushed open in a burst of wind-driven snow. As if someone was still deciding whether or not to enter, the snow swirled into the room and the candles fluttered.
“Hello?” a timid voice called.
“Come in, for heaven’s sake!” Chance shouted.
It was too much coincidence that Rose appeared, snow crusted as Chance shut the door behind her. She must have followed him, Graver thought. Did she think he murdered her sister? He was so light-headed from the blood loss, nothing made much sense.
He struggled, and felt a slight give in the strips around his feet, pulled his legs again and felt the cloth give another few inches. He tried his hands and heard a tiny tear.
“Mr. Graver’s uncomfortable, and you need to sit by the fire, Rose, so why don’t you drag him out of the way.” Graver understood that the man was clearing a killing floor.
“He’s too heavy,” Rose said. “Help me.”
Chance laughed. “Unlikely. Leave him there. Be careful you don’t sit in his blood, though.”
Rose squatted with her back to the fire.
“But first, Rose, I know you’ve been curious as to what happened to your mother. Just like your sister. It’s not enough to survive with you people. You won’t let a thing die, will you?”
“You killed my sister,” Rose said, no inflection in her voice, her eyes on the fresh blood that pooled around her.
“It was you people and your Ghost Dance. I’m not going through that whole story again, so yes, I strangled her. Happy?”
He stood over her, hands on his hips. “I never understand why people want every last detail. She’s gone. Finie. Done.” He chopped at the air with his hands. “Now let me get on with my tale. Please.” He took a deep breath and brushed back his hair. When he began again, his tone was one of exaggerated patience.
“First, you find the locket with the photos of my parents. Yes, I saw Hayward looking at it. Your sister Star paraded it around. I had to put a stop to it. It doesn’t want to stay put, though. You have it now?”
Rose clutched the front of her shirt.
“Good. When we’ve completed our transaction, I’ll have it back. There aren’t any more of you, are there? I trust Lily will never know what happened to her mother, aunt, and grandmother. I’d hate to have dealings with another of your family. Three’s enough.”
His eyes twinkled as he reached into his pocket and brought out a little tanned leather drawstring pouch with what appeared to be a brown button at the bottom. Upon closer inspection, Graver realized with horror that it was a nipple, withered hard as bone. “Do I need a new change purse?” He dangled it in front of Rose, who kept her eyes down.
“Now where’s my necklace?” He reached in her calico blouse, but it wasn’t around her neck. “Where is it?”
“We have to trade,” she said, her eyes on the pouch now.
Chance pretended to toss it into the fire, and then revealed it was still in his hand. “Just playing with you. I know how much Indians love a trade. Okay, my family for yours.”