Chapter 11 - The Man Who Bought Lucien’s Debt
By sunrise, Josephine had a plan.
Lucien disliked it immediately.
"We are not breaking into the bank."
"I didn't say break."
"You said get inside after closing."
"Different word."
"Same jail."
Josephine sighed.
"We don't need the bank."
"What do we need?"
"Public records."
Land ownership.
Corporate registrations.
Mortgage filings.
Partnership agreements.
Bitter Creek's county clerk kept them.
Sheriff Bellamy helped because, as he put it, "looking at paper beats arresting Hatcher for punching Crowe."
Lucien was offended.
"I wasn't going to punch him."
Josephine and Bellamy looked at him.
Lucien added, "Today."
They spent hours searching.
Gideon Crowe owned Red Hollow outright.
Thaddeus Vale appeared nowhere.
Then Josephine found a corporation.
Basin Agricultural Holdings Company.
Created eighteen months earlier.
Director: Gideon Crowe.
Secretary: Edwin Marr.
Primary lender: First Territorial Bank.
One silent investor was listed only through a numbered trust.
Josephine frowned.
"Can we identify the trust?"
The clerk shook his head.
"Private."
Lucien leaned over the document.
"What does this company own?"
The clerk pulled another file.
Several land parcels.
Warehouse property.
And an option agreement.
Josephine read the location.
It bordered Ironwood's southern creek.
"If Crowe gets Ironwood, these parcels connect."
Lucien nodded slowly.
"One continuous water route."
Bellamy rubbed his jaw.
"Still doesn't show Vale owns anything."
Josephine turned the page.
A fee schedule showed dividend disbursements to the unnamed trust.
Someone was receiving money.
Regularly.
She needed the beneficiary.
They returned to Ironwood that afternoon.
Production continued at full speed.
Lucien should have felt relief.
Instead he was watching the calendar.
January twenty-sixth.
Two days.
At dinner, Jeb brought a telegram.
"For Josephine."
She opened it.
Eleanor Whitcomb.
ADVANCE APPROVED. FUNDS AVAILABLE BITTER CREEK JAN 29.
Josephine swore.
Lucien looked up.
"What?"
"Money arrives one day after the debt transfer."
Irony so cruel it almost became funny.
They had built a business capable of saving Ironwood.
But the timing could still kill them.
Lucien sat beside her.
"How much short if Reeves pays tomorrow?"
"Twelve thousand."
"What can we sell?"
"Nothing fast enough."
Lucien looked toward the north pasture.
Josephine knew what he was thinking.
"No."
"I've got breeding bulls."
"No."
"Could sell six."
"And cripple spring herd value."
"Better than losing everything."
Josephine hated it.
But he was right.
They sent riders to three nearby ranches.
Offers came back low.
Too low.
Everyone knew Lucien was desperate.
Crowe had made sure of that.
The best offer raised only seven thousand.
Five remained.
Josephine returned to her ledger.
Five thousand.
Such a small number compared with the original debt.
An impossible number with forty-eight hours.
Lucien found her at midnight.
"Come to bed."
She didn't look up.
"My room or yours?"
Lucien blinked.
Josephine finally looked at him.
His expression made her smile.
"I meant sleep."
"So did I."
"Your face suggests otherwise."
"Josephine."
She laughed.
Then her expression softened.
"Five thousand."
"I know."
"I can almost touch it."
Lucien sat across from her.
"You've already done more than anyone could."
"Don't."
"What?"
"Speak like we're losing."
"I'm speaking like you shouldn't destroy yourself if we do."
Josephine went quiet.
He continued.
"When you arrived, those men were half-starved. Now half the county wants what we're making. You've changed Ironwood."
"We changed it."
"Fine."
He smiled slightly.
"We changed it."
Josephine closed the ledger.
"What will you do if Crowe gets the ranch?"
Lucien looked toward the window.
"Don't know."
"Start again?"
"Maybe."
"Where?"
He looked at her.
"Wherever you're going."
Her breath caught.
Lucien seemed surprised by his own certainty.
Their agreement had not included tomorrow.
It barely included winter.
Josephine reached across the table.
He took her hand.
Then a knock struck the door.
Jeb entered without waiting.
"Sorry."
"You always are," Lucien muttered.
Jeb held an envelope.
"Walter Pritchard's back."
Both stood.
Walter waited in the yard.
Snow covered his coat.
He looked exhausted.
"My boy's improving," he said first.
Lucien nodded.
"Good."
Walter handed Josephine a folded paper.
"I remembered something."
"What?"
"Every payment Marr made me came through a cashier at First Territorial."
Josephine's attention sharpened.
"So?"
"One time they put the wrong envelope in my packet."
Walter swallowed.
"It had another man's statement."
"Whose?"
"I don't know. Trust account."
Josephine stepped closer.
"Do you remember the number?"
Walter held out the paper.
He had written it.
Josephine compared it with the trust number on the corporate filing.
Same.
"Did you see the account holder?"
Walter nodded.
"Vale."
Lucien stared.
"Thaddeus Vale?"
"His wife."
Josephine understood immediately.
Vale didn't need to own Crowe's company openly.
His wife could receive dividends through a trust.
If Vale used his position at the bank to deny Lucien reasonable restructuring while arranging a discounted note transfer benefiting a company paying his household—
that was conflict of interest.
Possibly fraud.
But Walter's memory wasn't proof.
They needed the statement.
"Where would bank statements be kept?" Josephine asked.
Walter hesitated.
"Copies in archive ledgers."
"At the bank?"
"Yes."
Lucien shook his head.
"We are still not breaking in."
Walter continued.
"But year-end duplicates go to the bank's regional auditor."
Josephine turned.
"Where?"
"Cheyenne."
Too far.
Then Walter added, "Unless the storm delayed the courier."
Everyone went still.
"What courier?" Lucien asked.
"Bank sends year-end documents by locked mailbag. Stage leaves Bitter Creek weekly."
Josephine looked toward the window.
The previous storm had closed roads.
"What happens to delayed mail?"
"Freight office stores it."
Samuel Pike's freight depot.
They rode to Bitter Creek before dawn.
Samuel listened.
Then shook his head.
"I can't give you bank mail."
"We're not asking you to open it," Josephine said.
"What then?"
"Tell Sheriff Bellamy it exists."
Bellamy obtained a warrant based on Walter's statement.
By afternoon, the locked bank pouch sat inside the sheriff's office.
Thaddeus Vale arrived furious.
"This is outrageous."
Bellamy remained calm.
"If there's nothing improper, you'll have your papers back."
Vale looked at Josephine.
For the first time, she saw fear.
That told her more than any document.
The pouch was opened.
Ledgers.
Statements.
Correspondence.
Then Bellamy found the trust account.
Beneficiary:
Margaret Vale.
Quarterly payments originated from Basin Agricultural Holdings.
Gideon Crowe's company.
Lucien exhaled.
Josephine kept reading.
Then she found something even more important.
A letter from Vale to Crowe.
Brief.
Businesslike.
Deadly.
It discussed acquisition of the Ironwood note.
And one sentence changed everything.
Continued impairment of Hatcher's revenue position should ensure default without the appearance of direct bank interference.
Josephine read it aloud.
Bellamy stared at Vale.
Lucien's expression turned to ice.
Vale stepped backward.
"You misunderstand."
Josephine looked at him.
"No."
She folded the letter.
"For the first time since I came to Wyoming, I think I understand everything perfectly."
But Vale smiled.
A nervous smile.
"You think this stops the transfer?"
Josephine's confidence faltered.
"The agreement was executed legally."
Bellamy frowned.
"The bank board can suspend it."
"Perhaps."
Vale adjusted his coat.
"But the board is in Cheyenne."
He looked at the clock.
"And the option executes automatically tomorrow morning at nine."
January twenty-eighth.
They had found the evidence.
They had exposed the scheme.
May you like
And they were still running out of time.
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