When Wendell got up the next morning, his thoughts returned to Ariadne, but then he recalled seeing Wade out on the street, and he knew he wouldn’t have any peace until he learned what was going on. He bathed and dressed as quickly as he could, then headed down to see KC Murray.
KC nodded grimly when Wendell told him what he’d seen the previous evening. “We had Wade dead to rights, or so we thought,” KC said, “but then this fancy pants lawyer showed up here yesterday afternoon with a letter from someone who claimed they were actually the one who had committed all those crimes. This lawyer demanded that we release Wade until further investigation, and I hated to do it, but I had to let him go. The letter presented evidence I couldn’t ignore.”
“What kind of evidence?” Wendell asked.
“I can’t go into that because it’s an open case, but there were things that only the real perpetrator would have known, and it’s definitely thrown the investigation into a loop.” KC passed a hand down his face, and Wendell thought he looked like he hadn’t slept in a day or two.
“I hope you can get it all straightened out soon,” Wendell said, wishing there was something of real help he could do, and KC nodded.
“Thank you. We’re going to keep at it until we know what’s going on.”
Wendell stopped by Graham’s for a quick cup of coffee, then headed into the office. He was surprised to find Mr. Wells standing outside the door, waiting for him to unlock it.
“Morning, Mr. Wells,” he said, fishing around in his pocket for the key.
“Good morning.” Mr. Wells followed Wendell inside as soon as the door was open. “I hope you don’t mind my coming by so early.”
“Not at all. I’m actually running a bit late.” Wendell hung up his hat, then turned to face his visitor. “Have a seat. What can I do for you?”
Mr. Wells cleared his throat. “Actually, the first thing I’d like to discuss is personal and has nothing to do with business at all. I couldn’t help but notice that you and Miss Stoker were out for a drive last night.”
“Yes, I took her out searching for butterflies.” Surely Mr. Wells couldn’t see anything wrong with that, and it was none of his concern anyway. Why was he even asking the question?
“Is there some kind of understanding between you and Miss Stoker?”
Did Wendell have to answer that? He supposed no one could make him, but it made no sense to stir anything up. “No, not at this time.”
Mr. Wells relaxed and leaned back. “I’m glad to hear that. I found her quite charming, and I’d hoped to take her out to dinner sometime this week.” He lifted his eyebrow, as if challenging Wendell to stop him.
Without an understanding, there was nothing Wendell could say. “If she agrees to go, I hope you have a nice time.”
“Thank you. And now, on to business.” Mr. Wells leaned forward again. “My employer is very pleased with the property adjoining the Circle C, and he’s decided that he’d like to expand the parcel. We want you to find out how much Mr. Clark still owes on the ranch and what it would take for him to lose it.”
Wendell blinked. He couldn’t have heard correctly. “I beg your pardon?” he said at last.
“We want to take over the Circle C, and we need your help.” Mr. Wells paused. “Well, truth be told, we don’t need your help, but it would certainly make things smoother and easier.”
“I don’t know anything about the ranch. Maybe it’s already paid for—I have no way of knowing.”
“But you have friends at the bank. You have connections. And when you get this information for us, you’ll receive another nice pay packet. You enjoyed the first one, didn’t you?”
Wendell wished he’d never taken that money. It was still sitting in his safe—he hadn’t touched it—and it was almost as though he could feel it watching the back of his neck. “But the Clarks are good, hard-working people. They don’t deserve to have someone come in and snatch their home out from under them.”
“It’s the cost of business, Mr. Thurgood,” Mr. Wells said, coming to his feet and smoothing down his coat. “I suggest you give it some thought. I’m prepared to make you a fairly wealthy man with relatively little work on your part. Think of what you could do with that kind of capital. You could own this town—well, the parts of it that my employer doesn’t want to own.” He laughed, but it didn’t sound humorous.
“I don’t want any of it,” Wendell replied. He turned, opened the safe, and withdrew the envelope. “Here,” he said, tossing it on the desk. “I want out.”
Mr. Wells looked down at the desk, then back up at Wendell. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
Mr. Wells shook his head. “I’ll come back later this afternoon, Mr. Thurgood. You need a little bit of time to mull things over, get your priorities straight. I’m sure that you’ll feel much differently after you’ve calculated the pros and cons.” He pivoted on his booted heel and left, his coat flaring out behind him.
Wendell sank into his chair and pressed the palms of his hands into his eye sockets. What on earth had he gotten himself into? This was bad . . . this was so bad . . .
“You don’t look like a happy man.”
He opened his eyes. “Aren’t angels supposed to know everything?”
Miss Chapel sat down in the chair Mr. Wells had just vacated. “I don’t know who started that rumor, but no, we don’t know everything. We know what we’re supposed to, and that’s generally limited to our sphere of influence at the time. Why? What’s going on?”
Wendell groaned and pressed his hands into his eyes again. “Mr. Wells is what’s going on.”
“Oh, you found out, did you? I was going to try to break it to you gently—I’m sorry. I really am.”
“You’re sorry that he’s a no-good scoundrel who wants to take the Clarks’ ranch?”
“What? He is?” She looked shocked. “No, I mean, I’m sorry Ariadne thinks he’s the one who wrote your letters.”
“She does?” Oh, could this day get any worse? “How . . . Just give me a moment, please.” Wendell stood up, put the money away, and sat back down, trying to understand. “She believes Mr. Wells has been writing her?”
“Yes. I was in the tea shop just now and overheard her telling her sister. Except that she figured it out, and now she knows it was you, and she feels so terrible about the whole thing.”
“She feels terrible that I was writing her, or she feels terrible for not knowing it was me?”
Miss Chapel looked thoughtful. “Well, that’s the thing. I’m not entirely sure. But I’ll find out.”
He shook his head. “Maybe it’s better if I spoke with her. It would be more straightforward.”
“You’re right, and I’m not the best messenger if I’m missing things.” She paused. “Now, what do you mean, Mr. Wells wants to take the Clarks’ ranch?”
Wendell told her everything that had happened, clear from the beginning, and Miss Chapel’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, dear. This is potentially catastrophic. What can you do?”
“I don’t know. Do I have evidence that anything illegal is going on? No, I don’t. All I have is a gut feeling, and that might be my natural dislike of Mr. Wells because he wants to take Ariadne out to dinner. What if he’s just a shrewd businessman who goes about things differently than we’re used to seeing them done?”
“And what if he’s a lying, cheating snake in the grass?” Miss Chapel got up and began to pace the room. “Either way, I think it’s best to distance yourself from him. He’s making you uncomfortable, and you’re not obligated to keep associating with him.”
“You’re right. I am contracted to transfer those properties in six months, but that’s fairly simple, and I don’t need to have any other dealings with him until then.” Wendell felt better already just saying the words.
“Exactly.” Miss Chapel swung back around. “You’re a good, decent man, Wendell Thurgood, and I know you’ll make the right choices in this regard. I’m even starting to gain some confidence in how you’re handling your relationship with Miss Stoker. I hope you don’t mind, but I popped in for a minute while you were hunting for butterflies. I didn’t stay long—most insects frighten me—but I was there long enough to see that you were both enjoying yourselves.”
“It was really nice,” Wendell admitted. “She’s proving to be everything I thought she was.” He almost added that she was even prettier than he’d first believed, but changed his mind—he didn’t want to seem too enthusiastic. After all, she might be going out to dinner with Mr. Wells, and it wouldn’t do to get his hopes up too high.
“Excellent. Keep up the good work. Oh, and I wouldn’t wait too long before seeing her again. If this Mr. Wells has set his cap for her, you don’t want to get lost in the shuffle while you’re trying to be patient and understanding.”
Miss Chapel was right. It was one thing to give Ariadne the space she needed to decide her feelings, but it was another to fade into the background while another man, one who was definitely more of a catch, stepped forward. Wendell grabbed his hat and headed for the door. He’d just had his morning coffee, but somehow, he found himself craving tea.
***
Ariadne couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face when Mr. Thurgood entered the tea shop. She’d been in a good mood all morning, fueled by the incredible experience she’d had with the butterflies the night before. It seemed magical, really, and she’d carried that magic around with her since she woke up.
“Good morning,” she said as he entered. “Would you like some hot Earl Grey?”
“Yes, please,” he responded, taking a seat. He glanced around. “It’s rather quiet in here this morning.”
“Oh, you should have seen it ten minutes ago. It was nearly bursting.” She picked up a cup and saucer. “Thank you again for last night, Mr. Thurgood. I’d be interested to learn more about that species of butterfly, if you have any books on the subject. I’ve been thinking about them all morning.”
“I do have some books,” he replied, looking pleased. “I can bring them over late this afternoon, if that suits you.”
“I’d love it.” She arranged his tray, then brought it over. He picked up his cup, but paused, looking as though he’d like to say something else, so she waited.
“Actually, could I take you out to dinner tonight? I could bring the books, and then we could leave then.”
He seemed so nervous, so afraid she’d say no, that she couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t know why he enjoyed her company so much—she was clearly not on his same intellectual level—but dinner out sounded nice. “I’d like that very much, Mr. Thurgood.”
He smiled, a very nice smile. “I’ll call for you around five, then?”
“Yes. Five it is.”
She shook her head with amusement as she went back to her tasks. It was nice to feel as though someone genuinely enjoyed her company. Thomas had seemed to appreciate the time they’d spent together on Sunday evening, but it had been two days now and she hadn’t seen him except for passing him on the street, and she wondered if he’d lost interest. The funny thing was, that thought didn’t bother her overly much. She had a very nice dinner with Mr. Thurgood to look forward to, and that took out some of the sting.
***
Later that afternoon, Thomas actually did stop by, and he sipped at his tea with appreciation. He was just as charming as ever, although something did seem to be bothering him, and when Ariadne asked him if he was all right, he replied that it was nothing, merely a business matter.
“You could help take my mind off all my troubles if you’d go out to dinner with me tonight,” he said, placing his cup back on the saucer and looking at her with that irresistible grin. “I’d enjoy your company very much.”
“I’m sorry, Thomas, but I’ve agreed to have dinner with Mr. Thurgood. Another time, maybe.” Regina would be proud of her—she was establishing the fact that there was another man in the picture, although that didn’t seem like a very serious entanglement, and she was letting Thomas know that he would have to be a little more attentive. Two days without contacting her? Yes, of course he was busy, but even a note . . . like the ones Mr. Thurgood sent. He was setting the example Thomas should be following if Thomas was truly interested in her. In a town like Creede, with so many men and so few women, time simply couldn’t be wasted.
Thomas pressed his lips together, but then smiled. “Another time, definitely. I hope it won’t be too long.”
He finished his tea and left, not staying to chat, and Ariadne watched him go with a twinge of regret. She’d been careful of Mr. Thurgood’s feelings, but now she worried that she’d been too harsh with Thomas. All she’d wanted was one faithful suitor and she’d still ended up with two. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
Millie came into the shop a few minutes later, and Ariadne was so glad to see her.
“I don’t know what to do,” she blurted as she set Millie’s tea down in front of her. “I’ve tried to be fair to everyone, but now Thomas is annoyed with me, and that’s not what I wanted at all.”
Millie smiled. “Oh, I remember the days of trying to figure out which man I should marry. It’s hard to know what to do.”
“I’m not trying to decide who to marry—we’re still trying to figure out dinner plans!”
Millie patted the chair next to her. The shop was in a momentary lull, so Ariadne sat. “I think you handled it well,” Millie said. “Mr. Thurgood was the first to ask, after all. And as far as Mr. Wells’ reaction? That was his choice to make. You can’t decide how someone else is going to feel. You can only act in the way you think is best.”
Ariadne nodded. “I do feel that accepting Mr. Thurgood was the right decision. Not only did he ask first, but we had such a nice time hunting for butterflies, and I’d like to get to know him better. There are depths to his character and personality that I don’t think he lets show very often, and I feel honored that he’s showing them to me. Is that foolish?”
“Of course not. When we make a new friend, it’s always a wonderful thing when they feel safe with us and share their thoughts and feelings. For what it’s worth, I’ve always thought Mr. Thurgood was a man of high quality. He just tucks himself away, like you said. And as far as Mr. Wells goes, if you’re meant to spend more time with him, that will work out too.”
“It’s all so very complicated,” Ariadne said, coming to her feet again. As much as she enjoyed visiting with her friend, she had a cake to pull from the oven soon. “Thank you, Millie. You just might be the key to saving my sanity right now.”
“Oh, dear,” Millie replied. “I don’t think anyone should entrust their sanity to me. Who knows what I’ll do with it.”
Ariadne thought about what Millie had said for the rest of the afternoon. She did have every right to spend time with Mr. Thurgood, and if Thomas couldn’t understand that simple concept, perhaps he wasn’t the sort of man she’d thought he was. That disappointed her, though. It was so hard to be disillusioned in someone—especially when that someone came from one’s hometown, of all places.