Page 60 of Calder Country

“We know who you are, Mr. Dollarhide,” Hargrave said. “Thanks to Mrs. Weaver here, we have a record of the times you’ve received contraband goods in violation of the Volstead Act.”

“You’re also in violation of parole.” Agent Jensen had drawn a pistol. He spoke for the first time. “That means we can take you into custody, call the U.S. Marshals, and have you escorted back to Deer Lodge without a hearing. So I suggest you surrender your weapon.”

Having no choice short of violence, Mason lifted his gun out of its holster and passed it, grip first, to Hargrave.

“No!” Ruby fought her way back from the shock of her father’s death. “This man saved my life when my plane crashed. He came to warn me that I’d been discovered and someone wanted me dead. I would have left on the train tonight, but because of my father—” The words ended in a stifled sob as her new reality sank deeper.

“Save your story, Mrs. Weaver,” Hargrave said. “Now that you’re of no use to us, we have other plans for you. Director Hoover is getting impatient to see some faces behind bars. We have proof that you were delivering contraband liquor before we ever contacted you. After we take you into custody, the Marshals Service will be escorting you to jail, pending trial.”

Horror-struck, Ruby stared at the agent. “But you promised to help me! You even signed a paper. Your boss was there. He was a witness. Call and ask him.”

“Mr. Hoover is a busy man. I doubt he’d even remember. But even if we made you a promise, it would have been conditional on your finishing your assignment. As things stand, we can’t protect you.”

Her temper flared. “Of all the underhanded—”

Mason’s hand, tightening on her arm, silenced her words. “Be still, Ruby,” he whispered from behind her. “Sit down and let me handle this.”

Giving in, she let him lower her to the edge of the bed where she sat rigid and quivering, her hands clenched in her lap. How could Mason help her when he was in even more trouble than she?

He faced the agents, his presence powerful and calm. “Hear me out,” he said. “I have a proposal for you.”

“We’re all ears.” Hargrave’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Ruby could almost read the agent’s thoughts. What could this man offer them that they couldn’t simply take?

“I’ve read about your boss,” Mason said. “I get the impression he’s not a patient man. He expects—and demands—results.”

The two agents exchanged furtive glances. Jensen gave a slight nod.

“I know you need to make yourselves look good and keep your boss happy. But what’s Mr. Hoover going to say when he finds out you’ve jailed a young woman, a war widow, whose only intention was to help her father—a woman you forced to spy for you? When the public gets wind of this—and they will—the bureau is going to look like a bunch of cowards and fools. Keep her safe, put her on that train, and I’ll offer you a prize that will make Hoover bust his buttons.”

Ruby understood what Mason was offering—his own freedom in exchange for her safety. She imagined him walking into prison, knowing the awful conditions that awaited him. And there was nothing she could do. Only his hand on her shoulder kept her from crying out.

“We’ve already got you dead to rights, Dollarhide,” Hargrave said. “I’m still thinking about the woman. But you’re not going to talk your way out of this.”

“True,” Mason said. “But I’m just a small-time bootlegger. What if I told you I could give you the man who runs this whole operation?”

“If you’re talking about Leo Colucci, we can pick up that goon any day of the week. We’re just hoping he’ll lead us to the man we call the Big Fish.”

“Then you’d better pick him up fast. The man who wants Ruby dead is planning to off Colucci, too. He thinks Colucci might be holding out on him.”

“And you know this how?” Hargrave was suddenly alert, like a bloodhound catching the scent.

“He told me over the phone the last time I called him at the prison,” Mason said. “That was how I knew he wanted Ruby killed. I’m sure he had her father killed, too. Not that he ever dirties his own hands. He’s got enough people in his pocket to run that prison like he owns it.” Mason’s gaze bored into the agent’s. “I know because I was one of them.”

“So who is this person, and how do we get him?” Hargrave demanded. “I take it we’re going to need your help.”

“I’ll tell you his name after I see Ruby get on that train,” Mason said. “When I know she’s safe, I’ll be willing to go back on the inside for you. But I want a written guarantee of full pardon for both of us, mailed to my half-sister, whose name I’ll give you. Agreed?”

“Only on condition that you deliver him. But all right, the woman can go.”

“Get your things. We don’t have much time.” Mason passed her a handful of large bills. Ruby’s lips parted, but Mason shook his head, cautioning her not to speak.

Ruby’s clothes and meager possessions fit easily in her small duffel. She would leave Colucci’s gift box under the bed for anyone who wanted the glittery garments inside.

The train station was nearby. They would be walking through the snow—Ruby, Mason, and the two armed agents. Ruby huddled in her thin coat as Mason leaned close and whispered a few last words.

“Don’t try to write or call. We want the old man to think you’re dead. If you need anything, contact my sister, Dr. Kristin Dollarhide Hunter, in Blue Moon.”

“Mason—” Love and fear for him were tearing her apart.

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