“And maybe there’s a reason. Are you confident that she’s told you everything that happened when they took her to Thunder Point?”
Remington’s first inclination was to say that he was, but he hesitated, and then held back his answer entirely.
“Precisely,” said Thaddeus. “You don’t know. You’ll want to think about that when you’re going after Shoulders. Could be that things happened there that she doesn’t want anyone to know.”
Frustrated, Remington lifted his hat, plowed his hair with his fingers, and then reset the hat. “Is that something you’ve been chewing on for a while, or did someone, say, your wife, spoon-feed that to you?”
“Why do you dislike her so much?”
“She’s selfish. Bad-mannered. And she acts as if she’s entitled.”
“Entitled? To what?”
“To everything.”
“She is my wife, Remington. There are entitlements; however, you are my heir and that is made clear in my will. But if something happens to me, I expect that you will take care of her.”
Remington sighed heavily, shook his head. “How did we arrive here? Let’s finish. I want a bath and breakfast, and not necessarily in that order.”
And just like that, Fiona Apple Frost was no longer a bone of contention.
• • •
Natty Rahway fingered his mustache. The dark tips brushed his upper lip. He was aware of Doyle Putty’s narrow-eyed stare and ignored it. Willet was ignoring his brother as well, tucking into his scrambled eggs with the ferocity of a man who hadn’t eaten in days. Natty could barely look at him.
He lifted his cup, finished his coffee, and gestured to the waitress to bring more. “I noticed you fellas are still trying to unload certain... um,articles, shall we say. Seems like Denver would be the place for that. Wouldn’t attract attention.”
“You hear something?” asked Willet. He spoke with his mouth full. Bits of egg coated his tongue.
“Jesus, Willet. Swallow your food and drink some coffee. You have the manners of...” He was at a loss to find an appropriate comparison until he glanced at Doyle. “Of your brother.”
“Hey,” said Doyle. “No call for that.”
Natty sat back while the waitress filled his cup. “Thanks.” He watched her walk away, liked the gentle sway of her hips. Her daddy owned the place and Natty liked the rooms and the food well enough not to risk eviction by making a pass at the daughter.
“Did you hear me, Natty?” Willet asked. He coughed weakly when he aspirated coffee because he tried to talk and drink at the same time. Doyle slapped him hard on the back. Natty just shook his head.
Doyle took up his brother’s question. “Is there something you want to tell us, Natty? Maybe you heard someone say something about one of the pieces?”
“Didn’t hear a thing. Saw a woman, though, showing off a ring to a couple of her friends. Sure looked like something I’d seen before. I thought you were going to melt that gold.”
“Now what do we know about that? And what else was I supposed to say when those women on the train objected? Where did you see this anyway? We never sold no rings to a woman.”
“Do you know Sylvia Vance?”
“The whore?”
“The madam. It was at her place.”
“You go all the way to Collier to fuck a whore?”
Natty looked around to see if Doyle had drawn the notice of any of the other diners. It did not appear that he had. “I was never one for fishing in my own pond.”
Willet shrugged. “Here suits me just fine. Always did like Harmony gals best. Those bitches in Frost Falls? Not one of them will let you dip your wick for less than a dollar.”
Natty said, “You should stay away from Frost Falls.”
“Now, didn’t I just say I didn’t like the gals there? But even if I did, where’s the harm? No one knows it was us.”
