Call frowned. “I asked him if he needed me for anything before I left.”
“Rooster’s not one for saying he needs help.”
“Clearly. I’m on my way.”
Laurel put out a hand. “No. Do your search first. Hank needed to be put to work. He was leaning on a rake watching Dillon work when I found him. I’m afraid he picked up some bad habits from Mr. Pye.”
Call didn’t mention that Hank had been friendly with that rake for a while now. “You want to observe? It’s probably not a bad idea to have a witness in the event I find anything.”
“What are you looking for?”
“Don’t know. Just looking seemed like a good enough idea on its own.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Interested?”
She was. “All right. I have some time before I sort the mail.” Laurel propped open the door to let in more sunlight and then she came to stand beside Call. “He borrowed a book from me that he never returned. Maybe we’ll find that. It’s hard to believe he would have taken it with him.” She huffed a quiet laugh. “Then again, everything about this has been hard to believe.”
Call nodded. He bent, lifted the chest’s lid, and dropped it back so Laurel had a view. “Nothing.”
She nodded and moved on while Call closed the lid. They went through the same process with the same result two more times. They expected nothing more on the fourth try.
They were wrong.
Sitting squarely on the floor of the chest was a strongbox similar in size to the one Brady had carried from the stage to Mr. Stonechurch’s kitchen. It may have been more than similar. Call thought it might have been exact.
Laurel stared at the box. “You don’t think the mining payroll is in there, do you?”
“I’m fairly certain it’s not, but there’s only one way to know.” He picked it up and set it on the bed. “You want to open it?”
Laurel stepped back as if she expected the box to bite. She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to touch it.”
Amused, Call’s mouth lifted in a half smile. “Very well.” He ran his fingers along the latch, found the lever, and sprung it. Before he lifted the lid, he asked, “Should I draw my gun?”
“Not funny. And you aren’t wearing it anyway.”
“Right. I forgot.”
“Go on.” She didn’t move forward but curiosity had her leaning in.
Call lifted the lid and dropped it back. “Well?” he asked, turning his head to look at her.
“It’s empty.”
Call heard her disappointment. She had actually been hopeful. He was careful not to smile, but for her sake he wished he’d been wrong about the contents. “There’s something,” he said, peering closer. He picked up the box and cradled it in one arm, tilting it so she could also see. “Here. In the corner. A scrap of something.”
“I see it,” she said. “It looks like paper.”
“Maybe.” Call tried to pull it out but his fingers were too large and his nails too short to grip it. He shook his head. “It’s wedged. You try.”
Laurel examined her neatly clipped nails. “Maybe thisone,” she said, holding up the little finger of her right hand. She took the box, cradled it similarly, and scraped at the corner with her pinkie. “It’s so small. I can’t pull it free. Maybe tweezers.”
“Of course. I have a pair in my kit. Give me a minute.”
Laurel followed him to the chest at the foot of his bed, where he retrieved tweezers from his grooming kit. The light was better here closer to the door, and when she tilted the box toward it, she had a clearer view of what was lodged so tightly in the corner as long as she squinted. “I think it’s a remnant of a legal tender note. A greenback. I can just make out a thread in the paper.” She turned it so Call could examine it.
Call peered closely, nodded. “I think you’re right.” He held up the tweezers. Do you want to try?”
“No. You do it. Mr. Stonechurch hired you.”
“All right. But you hold the box.” Call caught the scrap on his first attempt and gently tugged. What he extracted was slightly bigger than what they had been able to see. He held it up so they could both look at it.
