“Hmm.”
“May I eat first? I’m going to tell you.” When she nodded, he tucked in before she changed her mind and made him reverse the order. He set the plate and fork aside when he was done and repeated what Blue had told him.
“Mrs. Tyler’s ring?” she said, puzzled. “I thought it was a seed pearl collar that had been found.”
“You did? Where did you hear that?” But he knew, and he was not happy about it.
“Ben mentioned it. For some reason, he thought you had asked me about the collar. The only conversation I could recall was the one we had about your fiancée’s wedding dress, but I thought I said it was lace, not seed pearls.”
“So what did you tell him?”
“What you’d expect. That a dog collar like that shows off a woman’s neck, but it’s the kind of accessory a woman wears in the evening for a special occasion, not for traveling.”
“That’s what I told him you said.”
“But I hadn’t said it. Not to you.”
“I know.” He didn’t explain. “Can you leave it for now? Trust me?”
“I don’t like leaving it, but I trust you.”
“Thank you.” He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Do you want to go to Liberty Junction?”
“Is that truly a question in your mind?”
He chuckled. “All right. I’ll make the arrangements. You know what you’ll say to Fiona?”
“Yes. I’ll tell her I want to see Mrs. Tyler before she returns to Saint Louis. It’s true. I will be disappointed if I learn that she’s already gone. I suppose you’re acting as my escort.”
“That’s the reason I’m giving for going there. It’s the only one that will stand scrutiny.”
“You’re not going to tell Thaddeus the truth?”
“No. Not yet. He doesn’t want to know.”
Phoebe smiled a little at that. “Not so different than Fiona, then.”
“Not so different,” he agreed. He might have said more, but someone shouted for him. He picked up his plate and fork and shoved away from the wagon. “Sounds as if the calf wrestling has come back around to me.”
Phoebe watched him go and then went to see if Ellie was in want of rescuing from Blue Armstrong or pleased with the deputy’s attentions.
Chapter Twenty-seven
“Did one of you do an inventory of what you collected from the passengers?” Natty Rahway asked. He set three glasses of beer on a corner table near the window in the Sweet Clementine Saloon and pushed two of them toward the Putty brothers.
“Inventory?” asked Willet. “You mean like make a list? Why the hell would we do that?”
“You might if you wanted to split the spoils fairly.” Natty sat. “Listen, I don’t care if you wrote it down, but do you remember what you took and what you pawned, fenced, or buried?”
“Didn’t bury a goddamn thing,” said Doyle. “Squirreled some things away, thank you very much. Why? You need money? Took yours all in cash as I recall.”
“I’m fine.” Natty picked up his beer, sipped, but didn’t return the glass to the table. His eyes darted back and forth between the brothers. “I’m wondering about a choker. Heard it called a dog collar. Something a real lady might wear for a fancy dress occasion. She’d come from money, I expect, since this collar was made of seed pearls.”
Doyle used his forearm to wipe beer foam from his upper lip. “A dog collar, you say. And the bitch is well heeled?” He slapped the table, enjoying his joke. He heard Willet snicker, but Natty did not join in. Doyle dropped his hand to his lap and cleared his throat. “Don’t recollect I saw one of those. Willet? You holding out on me?”
“I wouldn’t, and I ain’t. What’s this about, Natty?”
Natty wasn’t sure he believed either one of them, but hewent on to explain in spite of that. “Seems someone saw a collar like the one I just told you about and thinks it’s connected to the robbery.”
