Two guns. One bounty. And a man who had been hunting the wrong enemy for fifteen years.
CHAPTER 5
Thomas Adam left another trail.
Not bodies.
Documents.
Every town they passed contained another piece of the puzzle.
A banker who had disappeared.
A sheriff who had suddenly become rich.
A military officer who retired after the Red Creek massacre.
And always the same symbol.
A black circle burned into wooden doors.
Clay recognized it.
“Thomas’s mark.”
Scott shook his head.
“No.”
He touched the symbol.
“That’s Harrow’s.”
They reached a mining town called Mercy Ridge.
There, an old bartender recognized Scott.
“You were there.”
Scott looked up.
“Where?”
“Red Creek.”
The bartender poured whiskey.
“You survived.”
Scott’s jaw tightened.
“Tell me what you saw.”
The old man hesitated.
Then he whispered:
“Thomas wasn’t leading the attack.”
“Who was?”
The bartender looked around.
“Soldiers.”
Clay and Scott exchanged a glance.
“How many?”
“Twenty.”
Scott leaned closer.
“Why would soldiers attack their own convoy?”
The bartender’s hands shook.
“They weren’t attacking the convoy.”
He looked at Scott.
“They were stealing it.”
The military payroll had contained nearly two hundred thousand dollars.
Money intended for frontier settlements.
Harrow had stolen it.
Thomas had discovered the plan.
The massacre had been designed to eliminate everyone who knew.
Scott’s family had been accidental witnesses.
Clay looked at the bartender.
“Where’s the proof?”
The old man pointed upstairs.
“Thomas took it.”
“Where?”
“Devil’s Pass.”
Scott stood.
“Then we go there.”
The bartender grabbed his arm.
“Don’t.”
Scott looked back.
“Why?”
The old man swallowed.
“Because Thomas doesn’t want you dead.”
Scott’s expression hardened.
“He should.”
“No.”
The bartender shook his head.
“Thomas has been waiting fifteen years for you.”
“Why?”
“To tell you the truth.”
