Jasper Mountain (46 page)

Thunder boomed and the sky flashed and split, pelting ice and cold rain over them all. Some people ducked and ran. Umbrellas popped open, black blooms speckling a field of mourners. The men who were shoveling kept to their task. Jack removed his hat and pulled it down over Milena’s head. Ice stung his unprotected face, but he didn’t move. The west side of the graveyard cleared, leaving only Victor, his officers, and Cain. The group around Jack held fast. Something here was more important than earthly comfort, the spirits of their friends, and the bodies they gave to the mountain.

Taryn raised his voice over the torrent of showering ice and rain, reading again from his book. “'The Lord is for me; I will not fear.’” The minister looked to Victor, his meaning unmistaken. “’What can man do to me? Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life God has promised to those who love him.'”

The mine president returned Taryn’s glance with a glare of deadly intimidation.

“’Though a mighty army surrounds me, my heart shall not fear. Even if I am attacked, in this I will be confident.'” The minister didn’t waver, but continued, solid and sure. “’The Lord hath delivered us from the dominion of darkness and hath brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins.'”

Taryn closed his Bible. Victor’s deadly attention never left the minister. And Jack knew Taryn had about as much chance of surviving Jasper as he did.

M
ilena woke in the dark and knew immediately. She rose from the bedroll on the floor and lit the lantern. Mouse slept in the bed, Duke snoring beside him. But no Jack.

How did he get by without waking her? She ripped her shawl from the rocker, slung it around her shoulders, and headed outside, shutting the door with care. No sign of Jack outside either. Rain splattered, slow and steady, a constant pulse of falling drops.

The world wept.

Shuv’hani,
where is he?

No answer, although it didn’t surprise her. Her grandmother had moved on, as she was destined to do when Milena became Shuv’hani in her own right. The silences were confirmation Milena possessed her own awareness now. Apparently, the time to stand on her own was here.

She looked up in the direction of the mountain, now wrapped in nothing but the whisper of gently falling rain. Victor had been smart enough to agree to a pause in mining production, playing the bereaved mine president. Yet another of his façades.

When the sun rose, the deserted mine would again surge to life as if nothing had happened. As if men hadn’t lost their lives. The quest for precious metal would begin anew.

Where was Jack? Up at the mine? Or down at the graveyard? She did not sense any warning of danger, yet somewhere a sense of dread built. Foreboding. With a last glance through the window at the boy sleeping safely with Jack’s huge dog, she grabbed the porch lantern and headed for the clinic, unable to stay in his house, worrying and waiting.

Perhaps sleep did not come to him, and he went to the clinic to check on his friends. Even as she hoped for this explanation to be true, she knew it was not. He would not up and vanish without telling her, not in a town struggling under the King of the Jackals.

As possibilities and fears whirled through her mind, she tried to run, only managing a quick, slippery pace. Rain soaked through her shawl. She shivered and tried to keep panic at bay; she grew tired of feeling it. She wanted some time where the fate of Jasper did not rest with her or Jack, where she could simply love him. Hold him. He needed time to rebuild his strength and life. He needed her. An air of melancholy had wrapped around him since he’d come out of the mountain, drained, his spirit crushed. The only real emotion left in him was the anger he constantly struggled to hold inside.

She reached the edge of town, her breath puffing out in a frosted mist against the cold, wet night. Spirits clumped, thicker than flesh-and-blood beings. They did not roam but watched her from every dark corner. Lurking in the shadows of the mercantile building, the Golden Guard glared, a spirit now, tied to Jasper forever by his anger. He frightened her, his fury a heavy cape whipping around him.

She spun around, not sure where to search. She didn’t feel Jack was anywhere in town. Then where did he go? The nameless dread bloomed into a wave of anticipation. Something was about to happen. She looked up. From the night, the Church of God kept watch above the town of Jasper.

The minister. Taryn McShane would help her.

Jack saw a lantern spring to life in the dark of the Creely mansion. Perhaps the man’s soul was rotted through with evil and mean, or maybe, as Milena had insisted, Victor really was a demon. But after everything that had happened, as sure as the sunrise would come in a few hours, Jack watched as Victor Creely kept to his schedule.

This was it. The moment to define Jack forever, one way or another. He’d either find the courage to do what was needed, stop the murderous evil from continuing in Jasper, or shrink and run.

He listened for footsteps while he breathed in chilly, predawn air. The death of winter crept near, closer than people thought.

Lantern light moved through the house and finally to the outside. Boots crunched on gravel. Jack imagined what was going through Victor’s head. Three a.m. and this was a workday, after all. Never mind the dead. Open the mine. Start rebuilding. As every second passed, money ticked away. There was gold to mine, rules to instate, dignity to crush, people to kill.

Unless someone stopped Victor. Now.

Jack positioned himself on the path. The footsteps stopped. Silence. He knew Victor was too far off to see any more than a dark form. The lamplight molded the mine president’s face into a semblance of a skull. When he’d first seen Victor, Jack mistook him for a portent of death. Now he knew the truth. Victor Creely was death.

“I have my gun trained on you, Victor. Even if you throw the lantern, I’ll get you. Put your hands, palms out, in the air.”

Victor’s shadowed face grinned. Milena had dubbed him the “King of the Jackals,” and never did he look more like a predator than now. “Oh, please, Jack. Shoot me where I stand?”

“I’m serious as a judge. Get your hands up,” Jack said. Victor complied, the lantern dangling. It worried Jack, how damned good it felt to hold a gun on Victor Creely.

“Jack, I really don’t have time for this. I need to start the operation up again. Without you.” He paused. “Let me see, a desperate, bumbling shift boss, one about to be fired. I wonder who will hang for my murder? That is, if you ever find the nerve to pull the trigger.”

“You think I care? I have Milena and Mouse packed and ready to go. We’ll be long gone before anyone realizes and starts celebrating your demise.” Jack hoped Victor didn’t see the gun shaking.

The Jackal chuckled. “If you are hoping for a confession backing up your delusions, you have quite a long wait.”

“Save it, Victor. We both know what happened. You paid to have the Boarding House burned down. You paid Luke to knock me out and stuff me in the mine. You sent my team, innocent men, including a child, to the area, away from everyone else. Then Luke or … Christ, you own half the people in this town. You paid someone to set blasts to kill us. Only we didn’t die so good.”

“And did Luke tell you all this? Has he surfaced to accuse me?”

“You killed him. No one in your employ seems to live very long.”

“I’ve foreclosed on the ranch, you know. Buck is probably sitting on a pile of dirt by the side of the road as we speak.”

“You think I care about Tumbling Creek anymore? After all this? Friends died in my arms.”

“So you are going to shoot me? Somehow I can’t see it.”

Shooting Victor. The thought caused Jack’s heart to thunder in his chest. Damn. This was no time for panic.

Victor continued, his voice smooth and easy, “After you kill me, you could put the gun in my hand; make it look like suicide. You should have thought this scheme through a tad better and ambushed me in my office. Much more effective and believable.”

“You are one sick son of a bitch.”

Victor laughed, an easy, amused sound. “Me? You’re the one holding a gun on an unarmed man.”

Jack lowered the weapon a bit. His arms trembled from the weight of the weapon, just as his body trembled from the weight of what he was about to do. “I’ll give you a fighting chance.”

Victor chuckled. “Oh, how very exciting.”

“You’re lucky I’m giving you a chance at all. You didn’t give us one. Digger? He grew up in the orphanage. Worked for you since the age of thirteen.”

“Mundane man, as I recall.”

“Josef. His wife died, leaving his children with no mother. Now no father, thanks to you. Zebulon. One of the original prospectors. You must remember him. You tricked him, bought his land right out from under him.”

“Is there a point to all this? Or are you attempting to work up your nerve to fire your gun? I must admit, I really preferred the silent, cowed Jack Buchanan.”

Jack brought the gun level again. “Cassandra. Mild, gentle girl.”

Victor sneered. “The whore? She died in the Boarding House fire.”

“You were behind it.”

Victor shrugged, the lantern swaying. “Really, Jack. Why bother to destroy such an inconsequential place?”

“To get to Milena. Beth. Because you are a sick excuse of a man. When Digger was dying, he told me he and Beth were in love. Your mistress preferred a miner to the great Victor Creely.”

No response.

“You didn’t realize Beth and Milena were gone from the Boarding House. You were too late, Victor. You’re slowing down, like the old man you are.”

Victor’s expression soured. Jack knew he’d hit a mark.

“Tom Gallagher. Sent his check back to his family in Nebraska every month. Five beautiful girls. God only knows what will happen to them now.”

“I didn’t realize verbal torture was part of our deal.”

“Tom. Stoop. Cassandra. Rolf. Josef. Zebulon. Digger.”

“It’s drizzling. You are causing me to ruin one of my best suits.”

“Miles, Donny, Eddie, Rory, Joe, Riley, Ben, Gil, Limpy, Franklin. And all the others who have died since I got here.”

“My arms grow weary from holding this ridiculous position.”

“And the men who died before I ever came to Jasper.” Jack’s voice trembled with anger. “You have been mining copper and gold from innocent men’s blood for years. And I won’t even go through your list of deceased henchmen. As soon as you use people up, you kill them. God only knows how many people you’ve murdered. How many more you will. I can’t let you go on, Victor. I just can’t.”

Now Jack did see a crack in Victor’s façade. Uncertainty. “I’m going to give you one chance. One chance, Victor.” Silence.

“Quit. Ask the New York investors to send someone else to run the mine. I’ll be damned if I let you keep on like this.”

Victor looked confused, even in the sketchy lamplight. “I’m a major shareholder. Even if I step down, I’ll still receive my cut.”

“Exactly, and you can do whatever you want with your filthy money. I don’t give a damn about anything else other than getting you out of the equation. Sit back and collect your gold. But you can’t have a hand in making it. Or running the mine. Or destroying people’s lives. Your reign is over.”

“You could have had everything, Jack. I loved you like a son.”

“You don’t have it in you to care about anyone or anything except yourself and your money. Hole up in your ugly mansion with your piles of gold, for all I care.”

Victor sighed. “We could have built Jasper together. You turned away from all of it. From me.”

“You thrive on causing pain. You trap and trick and torture. I swear, if you don’t step down and quit, I’ll stop you.”

The demonic smile resurfaced on Victor’s face. “The work orders prove you were responsible for the mine collapse. I planned to fire you today. I foreclosed on your ranch. It will be obvious who shot me in the dark. Like a coward.”

“The mine doesn’t have work orders. It was an idea in my proposal.”

Victor’s grin grew. “Oh, yes, we do. We have since the day the mine opened. I have the documentation to prove it.”

“You are unbelievable.” Jack started shaking again, and this time it was more than his hand and arm holding the gun. He shook to his core.

“Face it, Jack. You aren’t man enough to forge your future. You let it happen to you and plodded along feeling sorry for your friends, drinking whiskey, and most pathetic of all, falling in love with a whore.”

“Don’t call her that again.”

“Go ahead and shoot me. However, I believe Cain is right. You aren’t a man. Of any kind.”

Jack clenched his teeth to keep the shakes from reaching his voice. “Don’t go to the mine, ever again. Turn around. Go home. Your time is finished.”

“If anything happens to me, you’ll be hanging from the gallows at dawn.”

“Sit on your ass, and I’ll let you live. We’ll go right this moment and telegraph New York to tender your resignation.”

Victor pressed forward, the light swinging. “I don’t quit.”