“So you made a pattern using a legal tender note and cut hundreds of them out of the paper. You stuffed the strongbox with them. I’m betting that you probably cut more than you needed. I might even find some still here if I look around. Maybe under that pile of clothes you dropped on the floor.”
Desiree stood and gestured toward the door. “You know so much, Mr. Landry, what do you need me for? I take it that our time is up. I’d like you to leave.”
12
So you left?” asked Laurel. “Gave up just like that?” She stared across the wide expanse of her desk at Call. He’d made himself comfortable in one of the chairs she kept for visitors, which was something she’d always thought was impossible. It wasn’t that she didn’t want visitors to be at ease in her office; it was simply that she didn’t want them to overstay their welcome. McCall Landry demonstrated no awareness that the chair he was in was straight-back and armless. He lounged in it as if it were one of the plump armchairs in her parlor.
“So I left,” he said. “I learned what I needed. I thought she was probably telling the truth about your sheriff being a regular Sunday visitor.”
“He isn’tmysheriff.”
“Maybe not, but Mrs. Fry probably has him in her pocket. I didn’t want to risk an arrest if Desiree decided to make a scene.”
“Hmm. Did you actually see some of those broadsheet clippings in her room?”
“No. She cares for her room and her belongings as though she expects someone to pick up after her. Someone probably did at one time. It’s one of the ways she hasn’t changed.” Call told Laurel what he suspected about Desiree’s background.
Laurel sat back, gripping the arms of her chair. “I don’tthink I know anyone who wasn’t wounded by that war. We all bear scars, some deeper than others.”
Call didn’t disagree.
“What about you?” she asked. “You know about my wounds. They’re practically public fodder, but you keep yours well hidden.”
“Do I?”
“You know you do.”
Call said nothing.
“I didn’t truly expect you to tell me,” Laurel said after a moment. She moved on. “You’re satisfied that she helped Mr. Pye even though she didn’t confess to it?”
“She didn’t deny it either. I’m satisfied. She showed me the door when I laid out my suspicions and she never answered my question about being motivated by a reward. I think she’s hoping against all evidence to the contrary that he’s coming back for her.”
Laurel frowned. “Really?”
He nodded. “She wants to believe. She’s vulnerable to hope.”
“It’s sad, isn’t it?”
“Mm.”
“You’re not going to expose her in this?”
Call heard the slight inflection at the end that made it a question. “No, I told her I wouldn’t, and I won’t. As you pointed out, there’s been no confession. If there was evidence anywhere in that room of the newspaper cutouts, I think she’s motivated now to tidy up and find them. It’s a warm day, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already built a fire in her stove to destroy them.”
“That’s why you showed her your cards,” said Laurel. “You wanted her to get rid of them.”
Call merely shrugged.
Laurel chuckled at the back of her throat and sat up. She placed her hands on the desk and folded them. “What is to be done now?”
“There’s still the matter of how Pye knew that the payroll was arriving on that particular stage. He would havehad a general idea of when it was going to be sent out from Denver, and he likely had the strongbox in his possession by then, but knowing that the payroll was on Brady’s stagecoach, well, I haven’t figured that out yet.”
“You’re right that he had to have known. He didn’t take a lot of time to make the exchange. Anyone should have been able to see him do it and somehow no one did.”
“Seems that way.”
Laurel nodded slowly, musing. “Unless...”
