Chapter 5 - Hilton Crow’s Answer
Hilton had imagined many versions of the moment when Caleb Voss caught up with them.
None included Voss warning them.
“Move!” Voss snapped.
Hilton shut the ledger.
Silas drew his revolver.
Min clutched the box.
Four lanterns appeared in the tunnel.
Gunfire exploded.
Stone shattered beside Hilton's head.
They ran deeper into the mine.
Voss knew the tunnels.
He led them through an old ventilation passage and into a chamber supported by rotting beams.
Silas grabbed him.
“You burned Crow's house.”
Voss shoved him away.
“I didn't.”
Hilton stared.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“You threatened her.”
“Yes.”
“You threw the bottle?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
Voss looked toward the tunnel.
“Mercer's man. Clay Rourke.”
Hilton remembered one of the riders.
Tall.
Silent.
Always behind Voss.
“Why?”
“Because Mercer doesn't want witnesses.”
Min stepped forward.
“You chase me.”
Voss's expression changed.
Shame appeared.
“Yes.”
“You hurt Jian.”
“No.”
“You call him liar.”
Voss looked down.
“Yes.”
Min slapped him.
The sound echoed through the chamber.
Voss did not retaliate.
“I deserved that.”
Hilton almost agreed.
Voss looked at Min.
“Jian told me the supports were failing. I told him to get back underground.”
Min's eyes filled with tears.
“You send him die.”
“I didn't know they'd collapse that day.”
“You knew danger.”
“Yes.”
Voss swallowed.
“And I've heard those men screaming in my sleep ever since.”
Hilton had little sympathy.
“Why help now?”
“Because Hale came to me yesterday.”
Silas stepped closer.
“Before he died?”
“Yes.”
“He said Mercer planned to blame Min. Hale wanted me to testify.”
“Did you?”
Voss laughed bitterly.
“I told him to go to hell.”
Silas punched him.
Voss fell against the wall.
“You coward!”
“Yes.”
Voss wiped blood from his mouth.
“Then I found Hale dead.”
Silence.
“And I realized Mercer was cleaning up everyone who knew.”
Hilton stared at him.
“You rode to Crow Ridge for the ledger.”
“Yes.”
“To destroy it?”
“At first.”
Min's expression hardened.
Voss continued.
“Then Rourke set the house on fire with Min still inside. That wasn't the plan.”
Hilton's voice became dangerously quiet.
“What was the plan?”
“Bring her back. Frighten her. Find the ledger.”
“And then?”
Voss didn't answer.
Hilton grabbed his coat.
“And then?”
“Mercer never told me.”
“You knew.”
Voss met his eyes.
“Yes.”
Hilton released him in disgust.
Gunshots echoed behind them.
“We can hate each other later,” Silas said. “How do we get out?”
Voss pointed toward a ventilation shaft.
“Old northern exit.”
They climbed.
Behind them, Mercer’s men entered the chamber.
Min struggled with the wooden box.
Hilton took it.
“No.”
“I've got it.”
“Ledger important.”
“So are you.”
She looked at him.
Then continued climbing.
They emerged onto the northern slope just before sunset.
Four horses waited below.
Voss had hidden them.
They rode toward town.
Hilton knew the choice before anyone asked.
They could flee.
Take the ledger to another county.
Maybe reach a federal judge.
Or they could return directly to the town that wanted Min arrested.
Min looked at him.
“Where?”
Hilton looked toward the distant church steeple.
“Town.”
Silas frowned.
“Reed will arrest her.”
“Good.”
Everyone stared at Hilton.
Min's face went pale.
Hilton continued.
“He wants the whole thing quiet. So we make it public.”
“How?”
“Tomorrow is Founders' Day.”
Silas understood.
Nearly the entire county would be in the town square.
Hilton looked at Min.
“We walk in with the ledger where everybody can see us.”
Voss shook his head.
“Mercer will kill you before you reach the courthouse.”
“Then we'll make sure enough people are watching that he can't hide that either.”
Min studied Hilton.
“You risk everything.”
Hilton looked back toward the direction of Crow Ridge, where smoke from his burned home had stained the sky hours earlier.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“They already took everything they could burn.”
Then his voice hardened.
“The rest belongs to me.”
They rode through the night.
At dawn, bells began ringing in town.
Founders' Day.
Families filled the streets.
Flags hung from balconies.
Merchants opened stalls.
Nobody noticed four exhausted riders approaching from the north until Hilton Crow rode onto Main Street with Min beside him.
Conversation died.
People stared.
Someone shouted:
“That's her!”
Sheriff Reed emerged from the courthouse.
His hand moved toward his revolver.
“Min Liang,” he called. “You're under arrest for the murder of Peter Hale.”
Min stiffened.
Hilton dismounted.
“So arrest her.”
Gasps moved through the crowd.
Min stared at him.
But Hilton wasn't finished.
“Arrest her right here.”
He lifted the ledger.
“In front of everybody.”
Sheriff Reed's face changed.
Just slightly.
But Hilton saw it.
So did Silas.
And Min.
Hilton raised the book higher.
“Then we can talk about why your name appears seventeen times in Silver Mountain's private accounts.”
The entire town became silent.
August Mercer, standing on the hotel balcony across the street, slowly lowered his glass.
Hilton looked up.
For the first time, the powerful mine owner and the lonely widowed rancher saw each other clearly.
And Hilton understood that whatever happened next would not merely decide Min's fate.
It would decide whether Crow Ridge was still a town governed by law—
May you like
or simply another thing August Mercer owned.
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