Chapter 6: KIDNAPPED

Henry Gowen was furious.

Of all the people, Jedidiah Black had to show up in his town. Oh, he wasn't too worried about getting convicted but Black was known to be exceptionally hard on people that "bent" the law. And he had dealt with corrupt company men particularly harshly.

This "investigation" should never have gotten this far. If it weren't for that interfering do-gooder of a Mountie, his pal Inspector Avery, and that obnoxious Abigail Stanton, this would have been nipped in the bud a long time ago. They were just not getting the message.

This was his town. Forget the Company he worked for – it was his mine, his town, his cafe, his houses. And they had the unmitigated gall to think they could take him on and get away with it? Not while he was still in charge. And Jedidiah Black would not find one lick of evidence to convict him. Thanks to his vigilant security and several late nights burning incriminating documents.

It didn't matter to Gowen that he had knowingly sent those miners into hazardous conditions. It would have cost too much to properly ventilate the mine, since it would have required several days to make sure the proper equipment was installed to insure that the air was flowing around freely enough – and that methane was not building up to unsafe levels. He couldn't just let the mine shut down for a few days.

Time was money. And time spent not making money was time wasted. He didn't have the time nor the manpower to check every detail on daily operations. What mattered was the coal.

And that idiot Stanton...what a thorn in his side. Gowen knew perfectly well that Stanton had nothing to do with the deaths of the men – in fact, Noah had written Gowen repeatedly about the increasing danger from the rising methane levels. Gowen had those letters tucked safely away in his safe – only he and a select few on his security force knew the combination.

Some might call him foolish for not getting rid of the evidence. But Gowen knew he could manipulate what was written in those letters to make it appear that Noah was the culprit behind the deaths of the miners. No one would question it if the evidence was in Stanton's own handwriting. And he had planned on using that information to destroy Abigail – that interfering busybody.

But, no, that wasn't enough. Abigail Stanton was not getting the message. And with her out of the way, off the witness list, Thornton's and Avery's case would fall completely apart. No one else in that town was daring enough to stand up to Gowen and his men. Mrs. Stanton was the only one he had still be unable to intimidate, despite the 'bombshell' he had dropped the other night.

Oh, he had spread enough poison to create doubt in a majority of the townspeople. But he knew that there were a few very vocal ones still refusing to turn their backs on Mrs. Stanton. And that Gowen could not have.

Mrs. Stanton would have to be, if not permanently eliminated, moved to a secure location until Gowen could insure that Jedidiah Black had left Coal Valley, not to return. He walked to the door, went out on the veranda, and summoned one of the men that he had sent to take care of Bill Avery and his forensic kit.
Abigail was exhausted. Night had fallen and the day had been particularly long, especially since there had been hardly any customers. Oh, Elizabeth and Jack had stopped by with some of the other townsfolk (the few brave enough to go against the Word of Gowen) and having that conversation with Bill had been, if not illuminating or completely satisfying, refreshing.

She wiped her forehead and moved to clean the few dishes and pots from the meals she had cooked that day. While she was scrubbing the pots and pans, her mind wandered to Bill Avery again.

What an interesting man he was. While she still wasn't sure what the photograph or the ring meant, she remembered the advice she had given to Elizabeth about Jack when that actress had waltzed into town and tried to win Jack over (again.) Until proven guilty, she would try to treat him as if he was completely innocent. That was only fair, after all.

They hadn't known each other that long. She couldn't expect him to bare his soul to her in a matter of days. In fact, she was surprised how often she found herself wanting to unburden herself on him. She smiled as she remembered the conversation when she jestingly asked whether he was a ventriloquist. He had responded laughingly that "**wouldn't that mean I was trying to put words into your mouth?"**

She laughed to herself. His eyes had twinkled when he responded – so he clearly hadn't been offended that she had been very reluctant to divulge any further personal information. It was fascinating, though, and a little frightening, how easily he was able to draw information out of her. Or was it just that she felt relaxed enough to be herself around him?

She wasn't quite sure. Either way, she was getting far too comfortable around him for her own good. It was time to pull further back before she opened herself to getting hurt again. Abigail needed to known, for her own sake, what secrets Bill Avery was keeping to himself. How could she allow herself to care for a man she barely even knew? Despite the fact that so much about him reminded her of Noah.

They didn't even look like one another – but they had that same innate courtesy. The same willingness to go out of their way to help someone else. Bill made her feel protected and safe. That was a feeling she had started to become accustomed to doing without.

Sighing, she picked up a towel and started to dry the now-sparkling clean dishes. Elizabeth was out on a walk with Jack, looking at the stars and talking. Abigail wasn't worried – Jack was a gentleman, he would not keep her out later than was proper and Elizabeth was safe with him.

All of a sudden, she heard a clatter from the dining room. She had blown out the candles, so the only light in the room was from the moon and the candlelight from the kitchen. Abigail picked up her iron skillet and moved quietly through the kitchen to the dining room.

Before she could even make a cry, a cloth was thrown over her head and a gag in her mouth. Frantically, she started to kick and scratch. Now was no time to be a lady, Abigail Stanton, she told herself. She jammed her elbow into something soft and heard a harsh grunt. She kicked out with her legs (very unladylike, she thought rather hysterically.) She heard something shatter as it hit the floor – oh, that's going to be very expensive - and she struggled to get loose from the strong arms that had grabbed her.

She heard another clatter as a chair hit the floor and a muffled curse from the person that hadn't anticipated so much trouble from one female. He has seriously underestimated me if he thinks that he can stop me like this, thought Abigail furiously. While she was very frightened, she was also livid with anger. And kept fighting and kicking and knocking things to the ground. If something happens to me tonight, she thought, I am not going down without a fight.

Then, just as she thought the person had finally given up, something sharp struck her on the head. She felt warmth on her forehead, and everything melted into the soft darkness of unconsciousness. The mysterious figure slung the unconscious figure of Abigail Stanton over their shoulder and made his way into the purple-blackness of the night.

He did not notice the drops of blood that had dripped down on to the floor and out the door, leaving a faint trail behind in the dirt and the dust. He left the door open – he knew people would be back soon and was not going to wait around to clean up the mess.

Jack and Elizabeth had had a lovely night.

They went to the top of the hill where Jack had taken their picture and looked at the stars.

"It really is a lovely night tonight," she said.

"Yes, you are really quite beautiful." Jack smiled as he looked at her face.

Elizabeth blushed. "I was talking about the stars."

"And I was talking about you," he smiled. "You really don't take compliments well, do you?" He laughed a little, "Do you think I'm flattering you?"

"No," she said shyly, "I'm just unaccustomed to being courted. My sister Julie had more suitors than I and she's much better equipped to handle compliments."

Jack reached for her hand and held it, "I think you're doing just fine. You're not as awkward as you might think. I would venture to say I'm worse."

Elizabeth grinned, "Well... you did take your time letting Rosemary down."

Jack admitted, "I don't like to hurt people's feelings and she is a connection to home for me. It's never been easy for me to talk about what's in my heart and even less easy for me to let someone else down."

She smiled at him, "I think you're doing just fine."

Jack put his hand in his arm and walked with her. "It's getting late. I need to get you home or Abigail will clobber me with that iron skillet and I'll never get to have anymore of those biscuits."

Elizabeth laughed, "Don't be ridiculous. She's never hit anyone with that skillet in her life."

"Don't let this be the first time!" He shrunk away in mock fear of the imaginary iron skillet.

It wasn't a very long walk back to the cafe.

Jack leaned towards Elizabeth and gently touched his lips to hers. What started out as a sweet good night kiss soon became a bit more passionate. She drew back, laughing a little, and smiled. "On that note," she said, "I think I need to go to bed."

"Good night, Jack..." she said and her voice trailed off as she noticed the open door.

"Elizabeth?" he asked, noticing the hitch in her voice, "What is it?"

"Something's wrong."

Jack quickly put on his Mountie demeanor and went up the steps. Seeing the open door swinging in the breeze, he told Elizabeth, "Stay back. Something's not right here."

He stepped into pitch blackness and almost tripped on a chair that had been knocked over.

"Elizabeth," he whispered back to her, "stay with me. There should be a spare lantern in the kitchen."

Elizabeth kept close. "I don't like this, Jack. Abigail always stays up to make sure I'm home safely. It's not like her at all to keep the door open...and why is there light still coming from the kitchen?"

Jack moved forward quickly and silently, feeling his way in the darkness. His instincts were screaming at him that something had gone horribly wrong.

They both got into the kitchen and a candle was still lit...unattended. Again, that was very unlike Abigail to leave a candle burning without someone to watch it.

Jack reached for the spare lantern and lit it.

He went back into the dining room. With the light flickering from the lantern, he saw turned over chairs and a shattered vase. He knelt down and saw dark spots on the floor. Putting his finger on one of the spots, he touched the liquid and brought his finger to the light of the lantern.

Jack looked at a frightened Elizabeth.

"We need to contact Bill right away," he said.

"Where's Abigail?" She asked, worriedly.

"I don't know." Jack spoke calmly, as to not worry her unnecessarily. "This could be just nothing – she may have run over to a neighbor's house."

Elizabeth looked at him, "I don't think so, Jack. She would have told me if she was going anywhere tonight."

Jack asked, "Could she be with Bill?"

Elizabeth frowned, "This late? No, that would not be proper."

Jack gave her a look. "You're with me. It's late. We're quite proper. I think she could probably handle herself if she was with Bill."

Elizabeth looked at him keenly, "You don't think that's where she is, do you?"

Jack was very sober. "No, I don't. We need to contact the judge and Bill right away."

"As much as I hate to ask this but what about Gowen? Surely he would lend us some help if there was a problem like this?"

"I very much fear," Jack said slowly, "that Gowen may be behind this. I can't say for certain – so right now it's all speculation but these dark spots on the floor look like blood."

Elizabeth looked very frightened.

"It's okay, Elizabeth," Jack told her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders, "if something has happened to Abigail, we'll find her. But I need to get looking for her – is there somewhere you can stay while we're looking?"

Looking shaken, she nodded. "I'll ask Cat Montgomery if I can stay with her for a while."

Jack looked satisfied, "I'll walk you over there – it's not far from the saloon. But, please, Elizabeth, "he looked at her seriously, "Promise me you will stay inside until you hear from us. If Abigail was taken, it is not safe for you to be out alone."

Elizabeth didn't feel like arguing. A chill set into her bones and a deep fear crept into her heart.

Where had Abigail gone? Who had taken her and why? Was she all-right?