Into the Bright Unknown (The Gold Seer Trilogy #3)(77)

“Miss Westfall,” Hardwick says. “I’ve done nothing illegal.”

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? The law is always on Hardwick’s side.

I glance at Tom, who gives a barely discernable nod. He has dealt with my stash of coins, and it’s finally time to play my final card. I say, “You’re a thief just the same. And you invited all these people here tonight”—I swing my arm around to indicate every judge, businessman, and politician in the crowd—“to rob them one last time before you leave town. Did you think no one would notice?” There. I’ve planted the seed. It will be up to Henry to water it and make it grow.

“Friends, friends, I apologize,” Hardwick says, addressing the crowd. “Clearly she has had too much to drink. A little beer and little gambling are too much for any lady to handle.”

People laugh politely, even though anyone nearby can tell I’m sober as a funeral. “I haven’t touched a drop of your cheap watered-down booze.”

“Clearly you brought your own,” Hardwick says, getting a few more laughs. He’s so slick, nothing sticks to him. It’s like watching water slide off a duck. “One of the great things I love about California is its egalitarian promise. Everyone who wants to work hard and earn their way can rise to the top. It will make this the greatest state in the Union. Unfortunately,” he pauses to give me a pitying look, “some people try to gamble their way to riches instead, and end up losing everything.” He beckons Frank with a wave of his hand. “Please escort the two ladies to the gate. Round up their other friends as you find them, and see them out as well.”

Frank grins, reaching out like he means to take us by the collar, but I slap his hand away. “We’ll go quietly. Don’t you dare touch us.”

“I was growing tired of this party anyway,” Becky says, rocking the baby against her shoulder. “It’s hard to find common interests with such low company as yourself.”

“If you want low company, I can put you both in the ground,” Dilley says, resting a hand on his gun.

“You might get away with shooting a man at an auction,” I say. “But not even Mr. Hardwick will protect you if you shoot a woman in his garden.” Henry sure is taking his time. I trust him to know the exact perfect moment, but waiting is nerve-wracking, nonetheless.

“Don’t try me,” Dilley says. The music and chatter have stopped. Everyone watches as he escorts us to the gates at gunpoint. Large and Larger guard the entrance, and as usual, they appear to be suffering from an excess of boredom, at least until they see us coming. Not that they move, or rise from their chairs, but I think, in the light of the lantern, that I see their eyebrows go up.

“Where are your brats?” Frank asks Becky.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says.

“Your children. The guest log says they came with you.”

“Well, they’re not here,” she says.

“They’re very curious children,” I say, just to stall. “They could have wandered anywhere. You should probably go look for them.”

Finally, a high, operatic tenor rises loud and clear over the garden, from the direction of the gaming tables. “I’ve been robbed! Help!” the voice sings. “My gold is gone, stolen right out of my pockets! Check your pockets, everyone.”

Henry is overdoing it somewhat, but before I can worry, his cry is followed by a second, unfamiliar voice. “My watch is gone!”

There’s a sudden babble. Frank Dilley turns to Large and Larger. “Lock the gates. No one leaves until we’ve got this solved. Especially not these two troublemakers.”

Frank takes off to investigate.

“So, are you enjoying the party?” I ask Large and Larger as the commotion in the garden grows louder.

“It’s starting to get interesting,” says Large.

“But I don’t expect it to last,” says Larger.

“Somebody would have to be really stupid to steal anything at one of Mr. Hardwick’s parties,” Large says.

“They’d be sure to get caught,” Larger agrees.

I lock eyes with Becky, but I decide not to say a thing. I try to clutch my locket for comfort, but of course it’s not there anymore.

One of the waiters runs up to the gate, a young man with his collar undone and his tie loose. “Are you all right, young man?” Becky asks.

“One of those nights,” he answers. To the two guards, he says, “Mr. Hardwick says you must run and fetch the sheriff. There’s been a theft, and he wants it solved and the thief punished.”

Large looks at Larger.

“Do you feel like running?”

“I don’t get paid enough to run.”

“Me neither.”

Larger stands and opens the gate. “You better go and fetch the sheriff,” he tells the waiter. “You know all the details anyway.”

The young man starts to protest, but Larger put his hand on his Colt revolver. “Sure,” the waiter says quickly. “I can do that.”

After he dashes through the gate, they drag it closed and lock it again. I ask, “Do you mind if we go see what’s happening?”

“Just don’t try to leave through this gate,” Larger says.