Page 53 of Willing to Wed the Rancher
“Mr. and Mrs. Meyer?” Mr. Bliss was watching them now, seeming to take them in as carefully as he had everything else in the cabin.
How should she respond to his assuming they were married? Since everyone else in town regarded them as a married couple, maybe it was best not to correct Mr. Bliss.
“I am Franz.” Franz held out a hand and greeted Mr. Bliss with a handshake. “And this is Clarabelle.”
She was amazed at Franz’s smoothness in working out the awkward situation. But it shouldn’t have surprised her that he was suave and well-mannered, since he was a nobleman.
Mr. Bliss nodded politely at her before pulling an envelope out of his interior pocket. “I just got this letter from your brother Eric today.”
“Today?” Franz said at the same time she did.
“Yes, he sent it to the Pinkerton Agency in Chicago.” Mr. Bliss slipped a paper out of the envelope. “Of course, they forwarded it to me, and the moment I got it, I rode up here from Fairplay.”
“How long ago did Eric write it?” Franz asked.
“March.”
Franz pursed his lips together grimly.
Clarabelle’s mind quickly calculated the passing of time. Was that also when Franz had gotten his last letter from his brother? Franz had told her about the urgency the letter had contained, as if Eric had known he was in danger but had been too afraid to mention the details, similar to what she’d experienced when he proposed to her.
Mr. Bliss took off his hat and nodded at Franz. “I’m sorry for his loss. I learned of it today when I arrived in the area.”
“Then you also learned he was murdered?”
“Yes. I regret I didn’t get his letter and request for help right away.”
“May I read the letter?” Franz asked, perching his spectacles upon his nose.
Mr. Bliss was already handing it to him.
Franz unfolded it. Instead of reading it first by himself, he shifted, slipped his arm behind Clarabelle’s back, and drew her against his side. Then he held the letter between them, so that she could read it at the same time he did.
A part of her wanted to stand on her toes and press a kiss against his cheek to show her appreciation for how kind he was. No one had ever looked out for her needs quite like him. Or maybe she was so used to always taking care of the needs of others—especially Clementine—that she’d neglected herself.
Whatever the case, she huddled over the letter with Franz. Eric’s broken English was difficult to read, especially with his messy handwriting, but the message was soon clear enough. Eric had uncovered a counterfeit money operation in Summit County. He had solid proof. And the information was in a safe he’d hidden.
19
Franz could hardly see in the early dawn light, but he trudged behind Mr. Bliss as they followed the path of a stream uphill.
They’d already been hiking for the better part of an hour toward the place where Eric had buried the safe—near a waterfall in Elk Gulch—but the darkness and the mountainous terrain had made the quest more difficult.
Franz had suggested they wait until full daylight, but Mr. Bliss had said that he couldn’t take the chance of anyone seeing them out exploring. He’d insisted secretiveness was the key to busting the counterfeiting operation—that if just one person of the many involved learned he was in the area, they’d hide their presses, dies, and tools so that he’d have no evidence of their crime.
From what Franz had gleaned in the conversations he’d had with Mr. Bliss earlier in the night, counterfeiting had become a national problem—one so big the Treasury Department had created a special agency, the Secret Service, to help uncover the counterfeiters. But with the fake money production so widespread, they’d also enlisted the help of Pinkerton detectives.
For the past year, officials had known that a counterfeit operation was going on up in the high country, but they’d never been able to get anywhere. So Mr. Bliss was hoping Eric’s safe would finally contain information that would be useful enough to uncover the identity of the culprits.
Mr. Bliss suspected Eric’s murder was related to the counterfeiting, but he didn’t exactly know how. It was possibleEric had stumbled upon the machines, or perhaps he’d been given counterfeit bills himself that had eventually led him to the operation. Whatever may have happened, one thing was certain. The people in charge had felt threatened by Eric and had decided to eliminate him before he could involve the law.
During the course of the night, Franz had told Mr. Bliss everything he’d learned so far too, which hadn’t been much—the key in the bank, his suspicions about the sheriff’s visit, and then the home being vandalized.
“Do you think whoever ravaged the cabin was looking for Eric’s safe?” Franz asked as he climbed up a narrow trail after Mr. Bliss.
Mr. Bliss gave a curt nod. “If your brother has solid evidence that could ruin their operations, then they’ll be wanting to destroy that.”
“Or perhaps they seek the key to the safe?” Franz’s breath was growing more labored with each step up the mountain.
