“The bowl looked like part of a camp set, now that you mention it,” Slade reflected. “Could be our experience has us looking for things. But it does make me wonder why they tied her so far from the road. If she had not whimpered, I would not have heard her.”
“I did not hear her. I am glad you did,” Latham murmured. He started to remount his horse and stopped. “I would like to look at the area around the tree,” he said.
“I should have paid more attention,” Slade admitted. “I saw her and pulled her into my arms.”
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Latham said, walking away.
Slade watched him disappear and turned to his new little friend. “I wonder what I should call you, little one. You cannot be that old.” He looked in her mouth. “I think my ostler could better tell your age, but you cannot be more than a year and a half. Your teeth look so white.” Opening his canteen, he poured water into his hand and let her lap it up. “I should have gotten the small bowl.” At that moment, he saw Latham re-emerge with the bowl in his right hand and something smaller in his left hand.
“Great! I was just lamenting that I should have taken the bowl for her.” Slade shook out his hand, shedding the droplets of water that had seeped through his fingers. “What else do you have there?”
“Hard to say. It looks like a piece of vellum with a smeared logo on it.” Latham held it up to the light. “It’s been out here for a while. It could be a coincidence that it was where the dog was, except the dog would not have tied itself up, with a bowl of water, no less. A few cigar butts were lying on the ground. I left them back there. I picked up one and it was an odd cherry blend. Pleasant enough. A small ring of rocks held the remnants of a fire a short distance away. It was as if someone had camped there and left suddenly.”
“Heavens. I guess my mind has been occupied. I missed all of that,” Slade admitted, touching the chin of the puppy on his side. “Except I heard you, little lady.”
“That was probably fortuitous. What do you make of this?” Latham handed the torn piece of paper to Slade.
Slade’s temper flashed. “A likeness of the crest on my father’s coach. It looks to have been drawn by someone who knew what they were doing.”
“Could we tie this drawing to your father’s accident?” Latham asked.
Slade said nothing at first. Instead, he lifted the saddlebag and passed it to Latham, angry he had missed obvious clues. “I need to go look for myself.” He slid down. The little dog leaped over the side of the bag and followed him. The two men tied the horses and walked back through the brush together with the small dog in tow.
Slade felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. To think that someone waited here, intent to hurt his father and brother—two of the most honorable and kind people he knew—upset him beyond measure. He sifted through the remnants of the fire, looking for anything that could identify the camper. Nothing. As they turned to go, the dog began scratching at a shiny object in the dirt near the campsite. Slade reached down and unearthed a gold sovereign and then saw a few more. He picked it up and counted. “Five pounds in gold sovereigns. Perhaps a highwayman camped here.” As he said it, he realized it had not been a highwayman. Someone had intentionally wanted to hurt his family. Why?
“Enough gold coins would entice someone to commit murder,” observed Latham, his voice laced with annoyance. “These could have fallen out unnoticed.” His friend walked a little further, still looking around.
“You are right. And with the curve coming up, it is not a suitable spot for a highwayman.” Slade’s eyes narrowed.
“Drake, we need to look at the face value of thiscoincidence.” Latham emphasized the word. “It looks like part of a payment to someone to fire a pistol and spook horses. They would have left quickly. A highwayman would have probably had other items, and few would not have stayed near the scene of the crime. An assassin might have if he wanted a vantage point to make sure he carried out the deed. The only oddity I cannot reconcile is leaving the dog.”
“You are right, of course. Even thinking it through creates many emotions. I am too close to everything, but I cannot step away. I want to see this through,” Slade responded.
They heard a coach stop where they had left their horses. “That will be Mother and Tabetha,” Slade acknowledged. “Let us only mention the dog at this point.”
Latham nodded. “Agreed. I vow we will figure this out, Slade.”
“We will.” Slade would make it his life’s work to uncover the culprit. He glanced at the small dog. “And we may have a witness.”
Nine
Slade could not be happier to see the Royal Arms on the horizon. The well-known inn near Maidenhead boasted splendid rooms and food, which while he found the prices excessive, it could not matter at this moment. He had sent ahead a footman to secure the reservations. The cold, wet weather had been trying, and he wanted his family comfortable. He felt tired and hungry, and the inn was his mother’s favorite. He also wanted time to ask around the small village down the road from the inn. Someone could know something useful.
Considering the weather and the many stops along the way, his party made good time. Once his mother and sister met the dog, the terrier’s circumstance had improved considerably. It differed vastly from the trembling, starving dog he found roped to the tree at that campsite. The warmth of the coach, a toasty blanket, and a veritable feast of cheeses, meats, and water were Heaven when she only needed to wag her cute tail to obtain what she wanted. With her smiling, shiny black lips and under-bite, her tail seemed to wag her entire body most charmingly. He smiled at the thought.
Mother and Tabetha had named her immediately, explaining it was the way she sat that gained the name—regal, except for the two rear legs that turned out like wings beneath her when she sat. Tabetha remarked it was opposite anything but graceful, but when they said the word, graceful, she looked up. So, the name became Gracie.
The ostler came out to meet them. “Good evening, m’ lord. My name is Danny, and Oi will see to yer carriage and horses.”
“Good man. Here are two shillings. Take care of the horses. See that they are fed, watered, and brushed. And check my horse’s shoes,” Slade said.
“Oi will see to the care of yer horses myself, m’ lord,” the young man replied.
“Please check my horse’s shoes as well. I think one on the back right may need replacing,” Latham put in, handing the lad an additional coin.
“Yes, m’lord,” Danny replied, smiling. “Smitty will look at them soon.”
As the two men approached the inn, they could hear the innkeeper balking at allowing Gracie to stay. The innkeeper loudly noted her bedraggled appearance, coupled with her being the breed normally found in kitchens turning spits and not in the parlors of quality homes. Slade reached into his pocket to palm the man some coin, but Mother stepped forward.
