“She’d never heard blackmail was against the law?” Abe asked, with a dark chuckle.
“I never said she was the brightest,” Nick said. “But it’d been almost two years since they’d buried the banker. Everyone figured there was no way to prove he’d been poisoned. But the marshal had a friend who was a coroner in a big city. When they dug up the banker and examined the body, the coroner said it showed signs of poisoning.”
“You’re saying, if we have my father’s body exhumed—”
“Another big word,” Edgar interjected but snapped his mouth shut at Frances’s pale and unsettled face. He muttered, “Sorry. That was tasteless.”
“Keep going,” Nick said, trying not to look at the attorney whom he’d like to hit.
“After all this time, can we tell if he were poisoned?” Frances asked.
“I’m not saying that’s what you should do,” Nick covered her hand with his, “but I think your suspicions are solid. If you’re bound to prove it—one way or the other—there might still be evidence to back up your claim.”
“Was there not an autopsy?” Edgar asked.
“I have no idea. We were in shock.” Frances swallowed before asking, “What would it take to request an autopsy—or another one?”
Once again Nick’s heart swelled for her. There was a strength about her beyond anything he’d seen before. He couldn’t imagine any of his sisters asking that question so calmly about Pa. Frances Lancaster ran deep. Just when he thought he knew everything about her, she’d prove how wrong he was.
“If you really want to pursue this,” Edgar said, his voice quiet, “I can file a petition. I think it would be wise to hire the services of a doctor with an unquestionable reputation. I’m not sure a request to exhume your father’s body could be kept secret, but we can try.”
“You would do that?” Frances asked, sounding surprised.
Nick didn’t like the idea of her starting to like the highfalutin’ attorney.
“I’ve already sent him a telegram to inform him of Doris’s marriage.” Lowell had straightened as he said the words.
“Isn’t that dangerous to you?”
Great. Now worry colored her tone. If Nick hadn’t thought the man to be in competition for Frances’s affection, he’d have been glad to see the man get some gumption.
Edgar shrugged, a gesture which reminded Nick of the man’s cousin Marshall, who’d married Doris.
“It’s too late now. I promised my cousin I would find my honor again.” Edgar sat straighter in his chair. “I’ve claimed it.”
“Is he going to try to push you to go after Frances now?” Nick asked.
“I wonder if maybe you should pretend like you are.” Abe rubbed his chin.
Frances made a sound of disgust which made Nick have to choke back a laugh, though he didn’t like the idea of the slick lawyer pretending to woo her.
“No, listen to me first,” the sheriff said. “The whole reason you didn’t tell him about Doris’s marriage in the first place was because you wanted Lancaster to think he had a man here in the form of Edgar Lowell. The fact she’s married a wealthy and established rancher is not unbelievable. No offense.”
“None taken.” Edgar said the words like he meant them.
Nick didn’t miss the darkening of the man’s ears. Was it because Doris had wounded Lowell’s pride by choosing another man—or the suggestion he should start courting Frances?
“If your uncle believes he already has a man in our area who’s working to wheedle his way into the family’s affections,” the sheriff said, “there’s no need to send someone else.”
“But Edgar can’t be that man if he acts on our behalf as an attorney,” Charles said. “We have to hire someone else, someone William Lancaster can’t get to. Now, Albert Lancaster wasn’t one of the wealthiest men in Indianapolis, but he and his family associated in the highest circles. He was well known. If his brother truly is behind the death, he didn’t do it alone. I’m trying to decide if it’d be a good thing for word to leak out about a possible inquest.”
“Why is that?” Edgar asked.
“Because Uncle must have paid someone on our staff to give my father the poison,” Frances said.
“Either that or someone your father worked with,” Nick suggested.
“I like the way you people think,” the sheriff said. “I’ll bet Charles must know some folks who could help with the legal part of it, maybe a judge. I know someone I’d like to hire to do some private investigating. Frances, you and your sisters should put your heads together and see what you remember about your father’s schedule during those last two weeks—whoever he may have interacted with, especially someone he might have shared a meal with. If the autopsy shows your father was poisoned, and word gets out, whoever helped should get real nervous.”
