Forever Wild (Book 1 in the Forever His Series)

Chapter 13

1850.

Late November.

The morning greets Nathaniel with a ladle waving in his face.

  "Good, you're awake! Breakfast is ready, come inside and we can figure out what to do about Matthew while we eat." This time the ladle taps him repeatedly on the shoulder. "Come on, the sun's already up! There's water inside too to clean with."

  Nathaniel looks to Emily's now retreating back as she heads inside and to the sun, just peeking above the horizon. He blinks sleep away and rises with it. Mind now racing with thoughts and ideas about what to do about Matthew, he collects his sleeping bundle and gun belt and heads to the house.

  The smell of freshly cooked eggs and almost-fully burnt toast fills the house as Emily and Nathaniel embrace a heavy silence at the table.

"Do...do you think...do you think he's still alive? I mean, he has to be, right?"

The question presses down on them before Nathaniel settles his mind enough to answer.

  "They would want to question him full and good. He's smart; he's alive." Emily releases a relieved sigh.

  "Why would they do all this? What's so important about these damn papers? They're just bank statements!" Emily explodes, slamming her fist on the table.

"Maybe there's some transaction they didn't intend to have recorded."

"The only transactions are just store purchases, nothing out of the ordinary. It doesn't make any sense." They mull over this, plates nearing empty.

  "It'd be faster figuring this all out if I go directly the source; but I can't go in there guns blazing all on my own. We'll go into town and get help. When do you think you can be ready?"

In answer, Emily dumps their plates in a bucket.

"Let's get going then."

**

  West End Street is near empty of bustling customers at three o'clock in the afternoon as most of its businesses are only open at night. Perfect for a secret meeting.

  A side alley off West End provides just enough cover by piled crates and shade rom the scalding sun for Detective Richard and a certain ex-clerk to conduct business.

"This is everything?" Detective Richard flips quickly through the papers in the satchel.

  "Everything I ever saw and thought to make a copy of when that bastard put me here. He'll be wishing he had paid for my loyalty than just my eyes and ears." The youth knocks over a small crate. Richard studies him.

"He'll come for you now, you know that, right?"

  Will grunts. "I have a place you can lay low for a bit, but you won't like it. Still, it's the safest place you can be." The papers disappear into the detective's satchel.

  "Ain't nowhere safe from the Devil. Thanks anyway, but all this goes up in smoke, it'd be better no one can find me."

  The detective tips his hat, adjusts the satchel. "That's the plan—to smoke out the Devil. But first, we're going to need a fire hotter than Hell."

**

"No."

"No?"

"No."

  The response is a swift and unrelenting slap across the face by Emily's standards. A Sheriff is refusing to assist in a rescue! He's such a—