“Not from here, but I am confident my son knows. I am less confident that Miss Carolina intends to give it up. I had not considered a reward, but there should be one. I will offer it myself if he does not have the good sense to do so.”
As it happened, Junior showed good sense and made his mother proud. It was he who escorted Miss Carolina to his mother’s table and pulled out a chair for her after making introductions. Remington and Blue remained at their table, but Phoebe saw they were watchful.
Junior stood behind and slightly to one side of Miss Carolina. Except for his eyes, which were like silver coins, he possessed a less rounded countenance than his mother. He was also more severe in his dress, his posture, and his presentation.
Miss Carolina’s demeanor was polite, but she did not engagein pleasantries. “I understand this may well belong to you.” She passed the pouch to Mrs. Tyler without opening it. “I am disappointed, of course, but your son has offered me a handsome sum for its return and I am not in a position to refuse it.”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Tyler. “Yes, of course.” She opened the drawstring and turned over the pouch so what was inside fell into her palm. The pear shape diamond winked at her before her fingers folded around it. She nodded. “It’s mine.” There were tears in her eyes when she looked at Miss Carolina. “Thank you. It’s not merely the diamond that makes me know it.” She opened her fist and allowed the other woman to look at it again. “Do you see the deep scratch in the gold band? Yes? I did that slicing onions with a very sharp knife. The tears, you know. I could not see properly. My knife hand slipped and this ring saved my finger.” She slipped it on. “This finger.” She reached for her son’s hand and took it in hers. “He’s heard the story, haven’t you?”
“Too many times,” he said dryly.
“Yes. Probably.” She smiled at Miss Carolina. “But that’s how he could identify the ring. There’s no doubt.” She released her son’s hand and showed off the ring to Phoebe. “You didn’t know about the cut.”
“No. This is the diamond I remember, but I didn’t know about the other.”
Mrs. Tyler took Miss Carolina’s hand in both of hers. “You are very good to do this.”
“Not that good,” she said candidly. “I really had no other choice.”
“There are always choices. You made the right one.”
Miss Carolina nodded faintly. She took back her hand, stood, and raised her hand to bring Blue Armstrong to his feet. “My escort is waiting for me.”
“Oh, but don’t you want to—”
“It’s better if we leave.”
Mrs. Tyler nodded. “Jake, you’ll be a dear, won’t you? See that she has her reward before she leaves the hotel.”
“Right away,” he said, holding out his elbow. “Come with me, Miss Carolina.”
Phoebe watched them walk toward the entrance to the dining room. Deputy Armstrong cut a diagonal route to meet them. Remington rose, and in movements that mirrored Handy McKenzie’s earlier ones, took his plate, napkin, and utensils and followed a meandering path among the tables to reach her side.
“May I?” he asked, indicating Miss Carolina’s vacant chair.
“Of course.”
Mrs. Tyler’s greeting was more effusive, and she got the attention of a girl who was pouring coffee to bring the pot around to the table.
Phoebe noticed that Remington took the fussing in stride. She smirked, communicating clearly that he should not ever expect the same of her. She might fuss from time to time, but he should not expect it.
“What happened to your plate?” asked Remington.
It was Mrs. Tyler who answered. “She gave it to that young scamp Handy. He pleaded hunger and she believed him. He’s probably eaten three times already.”
Remington grinned. “Soft touch, is she?”
“The softest.”
Phoebe pointed a finger at each of them in turn. “I’m right here.” The girl with the coffeepot arrived, and Phoebe ordered another breakfast for herself. “It seems to have gone quite smoothly,” she said when the girl was gone. “What did you learn about the man who gave Miss Carolina the ring?”
“John Manypenny. He’s a whiskey drummer. Takes orders from saloons and certain private individuals. Collier is on his regular route and she generally knows when he’ll be coming through. She thinks he lives in Denver. He won’t be hard to find. If the ring did not pass through too many hands before it got to his, we should have a good description of the seller soon, perhaps even a name to go with it.”
“You’re confident,” said Mrs. Tyler. It was not a question. “I approve of that. It’s an attractive quality as long as it does not drift sideways into arrogance. I do not approve of that at all.”
“Good to know,” said Remington. He drizzled honey on the open face of a sliced biscuit and noticed that Phoebe seemed oddly fascinated. He replaced the honey wand in the jar and held out the biscuit to her. “Would you like it?”
Phoebe shook her head. “You applied the honey in a spiral. I don’t believe I ever noticed that before. You are truly your father’s son.”
