Chapter 6 - Discovery
Tessa paced the salon of her hacienda, anxious for news of de Anza's investigation. It was so frustrating to sit back and do nothing, but it wouldn't be proper for Maria Teresa Alvarado to get involved, and de Anza might get the wrong idea about the Queen of Swords. Montoya had ensured Monterey thought the Queen a menace.
"Tessa, you are going to wear a hole in the rug," Marta chided as she brought a tray with lemonade into the room.
"Not knowing is making me crazy. Oh, if only I could have seen Montoya's face when de Anza asked to look at the tax records."
"Montoya is a devious man, but he is also very smart. It will not be easy for de Anza to find evidence," Marta warned.
"He has to find something!"
"Señorita?" A hesitant voice asked from the doorway. It was the young servant girl, Carlota. "There is a soldier on horseback approaching."
Tessa ran for the window while Marta calmly thanked the girl and sent her back to the kitchen. "It's definitely not Grisham, but it could be de Anza," Tessa announced.
It was de Anza, and Tessa breathlessly awaited new information as she met him on the veranda. Her anxiety rose as de Anza calmly handed the reins to a waiting groom. Once he was within ten feet, she pounced.
"Please tell me you have good news, Capitán."
He removed his hat and placed it under his arm. "I'm afraid I have little news, good or otherwise. Montoya may not have been expecting me, but he obviously expected someone would investigate him eventually. While I have no doubt he steals from everyone from the farmers to the governor, I cannot prove it."
Tessa's heart sank. "What about the deal with Higuera and Fuentes?"
"That is why I'm here, señorita. I'd like you to accompany me to see Don Fuentes."
"Why?" she asked before she could stop herself. Then she berated herself for giving him a chance to change his mind.
"It's easy to lie to a stranger. I hope that with you present, he will worry about being caught in a lie. He might even feel guilty if he has to face you in person."
Less than an hour later, Tessa found herself seated across from Don Fuentes. His stern face was starting to show signs of worry under de Anza's questioning. Tessa merely sat and watched, but she noticed Fuentes' eyes dart to her from time to time. So far, Fuentes had pleaded ignorance to any knowledge of Montoya's plans. Finally, de Anza decided it was time to force Fuentes' hand. He looked at Tessa, who removed a roll of paper from her reticule and held it out to Fuentes.
"What is this?" he asked, taking the document.
"A contract," Tessa stated calmly. Fuentes froze with the document half unrolled. "A contract signed by you and señor Hidalgo to purchase my hacienda."
"I have my own land," Fuentes nearly shouted, throwing the contract at de Anza. "Why would I want to purchase yours?"
"Because my hacienda has fresh water. You have a mineral spring that is slowly poisoning your livestock."
Fuentes started to protest but reconsidered. De Anza took the opportunity to propose a deal. "I want Montoya, Don Fuentes. Give me a sworn statement against him, and the governor will forgive your transgressions."
Tessa jumped up in shock and glared at de Anza. "What about his part in my father's murder?"
"I had nothing to do with Don Rafael's death!" Fuentes exclaimed, his face going from red to white. "I swear to you, señorita!"
"And how did you expect to get the hacienda if you didn't help kill Don Alvarado?" de Anza asked. "This contract was signed a month before his death."
"Montoya said he planned to go back to Spain. Rafael himself told me he was going to Spain to see you. He had no son to take over the hacienda. It made sense to sell his land to his neighbors and return to Spain."
Tessa thought Fuentes was trying to convince himself more than them. "Who killed him?" she asked softly.
Fuentes took a deep breath and sighed. "Higuera and Montoya ordered it. But if you want to know who pulled the trigger, it was Capitán Grisham."
Tessa grabbed the arm of her chair and sat down slowly. She shouldn't have been remotely surprised by Fuentes' words. She always knew Montoya was behind her father's murder and was smart enough to make someone else do his dirty work. But that the very man who had murdered her father had tried to court her...had kissed her. She felt bile rising in her throat. She had to get away, to get out of the Fuentes hacienda.
"Excuse me," she said, abruptly standing again and rushing out of the room. She faintly heard de Anza call after her, but she didn't slow her pace. Her horse was still waiting outside the hacienda stables. She didn't even wait for the groom's assistance and swung herself deftly into the saddle. She quickly urged the mare from a trot to a gallop, wishing she was instead riding the larger and must faster Chico. She hadn't consciously chosen a destination, but she soon realized the mare was approaching the cliff on which her parents were buried. She slid to the ground and made the last few steps before collapsing at her father's grave. Tessa cried anew for her father.
"Señorita Alvarado?" she heard a lightly accented voice call sometime later, after the worst of her sobs had subsided. "Are you all right?"
Tessa hastily wiped at her face before looking at Doctor Helm crouched beside her. "What are you doing here?"
Helm looked at her tear-stained face and realized her injuries weren't ones he could fix. "I was just picking up some salve from Marta. Should I go get her?" he asked uncertainly.
Tessa shook her head no. She took a calming breath and pushed her long, windblown hair behind her shoulders. Helm offered her a hand up, which she took reluctantly. She had sprawled rather inelegantly and the hem of her skirt ended up under her boot when she tried to stand. She wavered and the doctor put his other hand at her back to steady her. Not for the first time, Tessa desperately wished she could reveal her identity to Helm. This was perhaps the most kindness he'd ever shown Maria Teresa.
"Grisham," she nearly choked on his name, "killed my father." She looked up at the doctor in horror, not having meant to say it aloud. His eyes narrowed and she could feel the hand that was still at her back curl into a fist.
"That bastard," Helm gritted. His animosity towards Grisham was no secret, but he was appalled that the man would pursue the young woman that he had made an orphan. Tessa made a hiccuping noise like she was desperately trying not to cry again. He was slightly surprised when she laid her head against his shoulder. The woman could be damned annoying at times, but she was distraught and with good reason.
Helm realized he didn't give her enough credit. She wasn't as spoiled as he'd thought when he first met her. She was a young woman of what, twenty-three years? She had lost both parents and ran a working hacienda on her own. On more than one occasion he'd seen her face off with Montoya's soldiers to help another person. He really did not understand the lady who currently clung to him like she would otherwise drown.
It wasn't long before Tessa realized how inappropriate she was being. She stepped back and was afraid to meet his eyes. "I'm very sorry, doctor. Thank you for checking on me. I really need to get home." She walked to her horse, climbed into the saddle, and rode off without ever looking back.
Back in his office a couple hours later, Dr. Helm heard the door to his surgery open, without a preceding knock, as usual. The sound of heavy boots against the wooden floor indicated one of Montoya's soldiers.
"Doctor?" The American accent could mean none other than Captain Grisham. Helm flashed back to what the tearful señorita Alvarado had told him earlier in the day and felt anger rising in him.
"Hey, doc," Grisham called, barging into Helm's office. "I need some..." He trailed off as the doctor was out of his chair like a shot, fists clenched at his sides. "Did I do something?" Grisham asked.
"Did you do something?" Helm sneered, stopping just inches from Grisham. "You ought to be ashamed to show your face in this town."
Grisham looked puzzled but didn't back down. "You seem a little hot under the collar there, doc."
Helm ignored him. "Let me refresh your memory then. Don Rafael Alvarado," he said the words slowly to let them sink in.
"A tragic accident," Grisham commented, but Helm detected just a hint of worry underneath the cocky exterior.
"Your pistol accidentally went off? On Montoya's orders, I bet." Helm's voice rose in volume little by little as his anger got the better of him. "And then you had the gall to pursue the daughter of the man you murdered."
Grisham looked guilty for a fleeting moment before resuming his normal brash manner. "Jealous?"
He wasn't, but Helm hauled back and decked Grisham anyway. Temporarily satisfied by the younger man's bloody nose, he added coldly, "Stay away from her."
"Or you'll do what," Grisham shouted, wiping the blood away with his sleeve.
Helm pushed past him to the outside door and opened it. "I'm not the one you should be worried about. Now get out."
Grisham's eyes widened as he started to put the pieces together. He hurried out the door and made his way quickly back to his quarters. It might have been an empty threat, but that wasn't the doctor's style. No, if the doctor knew, then that meddling Captain de Anza probably did, too, and de Anza had the governor's ear. Grisham had no intention of taking the fall for Montoya. He may not have been a strategist like Montoya, but he did know the value of a good escape plan.
Grisham's plan was solid gold-literally. He entered his room and made a beeline for the wardrobe. One drawer held his savings in gold reales. His actual pay savings didn't amount to much, though. A hole in the back of the wardrobe hid the real treasure: a handful of gold nuggets and reales skimmed from Montoya. He'd been planning to build up enough to whisk Vera away in style, but he'd run out of time. Freedom outweighed luxury any day.
With the gold secured and a small pack of necessities in hand, his next goal was Vera. They had to leave as soon as darkness fell, but Vera would probably need to pack at least a few items. With only an hour or so until sunset, he had to get moving.