Chapter 23
Ben was half asleep by the time he returned home that afternoon. The search of Rassbach’s office was more profitable than he’d expected, as the dozens of crates he’d packed attested. But the Sheriff’s mind had shut off, and no amount of coffee would help if he couldn’t get some shut eye!
So, when he entered his living quarters, the groggy fellow kicked off his boots and curled up next to Jacob on the bed in the corner. And that was that. Ben was out.
“Sorry, your Honor. He’s still asleep,” Roseanna whispered when the judge hurried into the office after supper.
Harlan took a moment to shake the snow from his hat and coat before hanging them near the stove. “Seems like we’re in for a bitter night, Mrs. Chauncy. Your husband needs to make accommodations; the guards will not last long outdoors in this weather.”
“Two steps ahead of you, Judge Lemke,” Hilda answered. “Arlo posted men at the livery and next door in the post office. He’s also got a few fellows positioned at the bank. That gives us eyes everywhere but to the south, and the reverend will ring the church bell if anyone comes from that direction.”
“Very good,” the man praised as he walked past. “I’ll be in the cellar if anyone needs me.”
Hilda turned quizzical eyes on the man, but the judge was oblivious to the unspoken question. “By mercy, what’s goin’ on around here?” she grumbled to the baby in her lap.
Pretending she hadn’t heard the question, Roseanna picked up the crate she was using for Sebastian’s cradle and moved the sleeping newborn into the back room. Once that was done, she pulled Ben’s cot into their living quarters and prepared Caleb and Arthur for bed. “You’ll sleep here tonight,” she directed, pointing to the cot she’d set up between her rocking chair and the bedstead.
“But Ma, where will Pa sleep?” Caleb fussed.
“Right where he is,” Roseanna whispered as she tucked the boys in. “Now, straight to sleep, do you hear?”
Once everyone was settled, Roseanna returned to Ben’s desk. “Still here?” she questioned when Hilda stepped into the lamplight.
“Arlo and one of the Larson brothers are keeping watch, so I will sit with you a while longer.”
“Thank you. I wish there were something more we could do to help,” Roseanna sighed. “Ben is wearing himself to a frazzle.”
“I’ll just be glad when those guards get here tomorrow morning. Then those troublemakers upstairs will be out of our hair,” Hilda said with a huff of indignation.
The women chatted for about a quarter of an hour, but when Hilda went silent, Roseanna smiled. She could almost see the wheels in the woman’s head turning. But when the matron hopped up and began poking through the desk drawers, Roseanna asked, “What are you looking for?”
“Hammer,” the other lady grunted as she bent over and searched the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet.
Moving toward the basement stairs, Roseanna quickly opened the door and retrieved the item. “Here you go,” she said before asking, “What do you need it for?”
“Those crates have been staring me in the eye long enough. Far as I know, I’m still deputized, and I think Ben might appreciate the help.”
Face scrunching up in uncertainty, Roseanna cocked her head. “I don’t know, Hildie. Ben might take exception if we start poking into things we know nothing about.”
“The men of this Roses Briar have been run ragged trying to keep watch for that snake Rassbach and the thugs on his private payroll. When is Ben, or anyone else for that matter, gonna have time to go through all of this?” Hilda asked as she waved to the piles of crates.
Shrugging, the younger woman answered, “I don’t know. Maybe we should ask the judge?”
“That’s not a bad idea! I’ll go ask him,” Hilda enthused, heading for the cellar.
“What? Wait! No!” Roseanna protested, rushing forward. “I will. I’ll do it. You just, um, figure out how to number the crates. Yes, that should do,” she finished before ducking into the stairway and closing the door behind herself.
Waking from a deep sleep, Ben rolled over and blinked at the tiny body that had been curled into the small of his back. Jacob , his mind filled in as the baby squirmed closer, snuggling back into the warmth of Ben’s frame.
Then, the newborn’s fussing caught his attention. “Must be what woke me up,” the groggy man whispered to himself. Carefully moving to the edge of the bed, Ben tucked his feet into his boots and crossed the room to the pot belly stove. “There you are,” he quietly said once he located the unhappy child. “Now, where is your Ma?” he asked, futilely searching the deep shadows for the woman.
However, soft rustling and voices caught his ear, and Ben moved to the door that separated his home from the office. Squinting into the well lit room, he asked, “What’s going on out here?”
“We’re cataloging the items you brought back from Rassbach’s home and office,” Judge Lemke answered before pushing his spectacles back into place.
Gaze snapping to the men tucked into the alcove under the stairs, Ben rasped, “All of you?”
“All of us,” Hilda grunted, sending the Sheriff an irritated look. “Even though you didn’t think you could trust us with your little secret,” the miffed lady snapped, pointing to the Pinkerton agents.
Ben had the good grace to blush, but he felt obligated to protest. “The fewer people who know, the better off we’ll all be. Just remember that. If Rassbach and his men find out our guests are here?”
“I warned them,” the judge interrupted before handing off a few ledger sheets. “What’s that look like to you?”
After taking a minute to scan the paper, Ben answered, “Inventory? Sales in and sales out.”
“Anything on that list stand out to you?”
The Sheriff shrugged.
“He’ll need this to make sense of it, your Honor,” Baxter Orville said, handing over a handwritten order.
“Five thousand board feet of lumber to a place called Elk’s Mound,” Ben read.
“Indeed,” the judge answered. “Now, guess where Oswold Jenkins’ stolen inventory was going.”
Stilling his racing thoughts, Ben glanced around the room. “You’ve put this all together with . . . one, two . . . three open crates,” he said, thinking out loud as he scanned the bits of paper scattered between the women at the desk and the men on the floor. Then, he began to shake his head. “There’s what, about twenty boxes of information here?”
“Staggering,” Harlan Lemke agreed. “It’s going to take months to sort all of this out.”
“And more, I’d guess,” Ben mumbled. “Much more if you consider Pernelia’s files in the front office.”
Hilda looked up from the piles she’d sorted. “Thievery,” she hoarsely commented. “Our whole town, built on thievery.”
“Now hold on, madam. You don’t know that,” the judge scolded. “We have evidence of wrongdoing in the accounts of one man. There’s nothing to suggest the whole company is corrupt.”
“Then it’s time to find out, isn’t it?” Ben demanded.