"No."
"Why?"
"Because the sheriff works for Nathaniel."
Elias stopped.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
"Then we'll go somewhere else."
"Where?"
Elias didn't answer immediately.
Then he said:
"Nowhere."
Clara frowned.
"What?"
"You don't run from men like that."
"You think I should fight him?"
"No."
Elias looked toward the window.
"You make him come to us."
That afternoon, Elias rode into town alone.
He visited the sheriff.
Sheriff Mercer was sitting behind his desk.
"Elias."
"Mercer."
"What brings you in?"
"I heard Clara Whitmore died."
The sheriff froze.
"Who told you?"
"Nobody."
Elias leaned against the desk.
"I'm asking."
Mercer stared at him.
"Her wagon disappeared during the storm."
"So?"
"She's presumed dead."
"Presumed?"
Mercer nodded.
"Until we find the body."
Elias smiled.
"Interesting."
"What?"
"You didn't ask why I brought her up."
The sheriff's hand moved toward his gun.
Elias noticed.
Then he laughed.
"You should work on that."
Mercer glared.
"Where is she?"
"Dead."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"No."
Elias stood.
"I expect Nathaniel Voss to believe it."
Mercer went pale.
Elias walked out.
Outside, a man waited beside the general store.
Nathaniel Voss.
Tall.
Elegant.
Black coat.
Silver watch.
He smiled.
"Elias Boone."
Elias stopped.
"You know my name."
"I know everyone who matters."
Elias looked at him.
"Then you should know something."
"What?"
"Dead women are difficult to kill twice."
Nathaniel's smile disappeared.
Elias walked away.
A Dangerous Plan
Clara was waiting when Elias returned.
"What happened?"
"Your husband knows you're alive."
Her face went white.
"How?"
"I told him."
She stared.
"Why?"
"Because I want him to come."
"You don't understand."
"I understand exactly."
"He has men."
"So do I."
"How many?"
Elias considered.
"Six."
Clara looked surprised.
"Six?"
"Counting Ruth."
Ruth shouted from the kitchen.
"I heard that!"
Clara laughed.
It was the first real laugh Elias had heard from her.
Then her face became serious.
"You don't know what you're doing."
"I know what men like Nathaniel fear."
"What?"
"Evidence."
Elias placed a small notebook on the table.
"What is that?"
"Records."
Clara opened it.
Inside were names.
Dates.
Land transactions.
Payments.
"Where did you get these?"
"From your father's business records."
She looked at him.
"My father gave you these?"
"No."
"Then?"