"Newton!" Lucas exclaimed as he closed the distance between himself and the chestnut steed belonging to their local Mountie. Newton was tied to the hitching post outside the jail, which meant Nathan had to be inside.
This was definitely a moment where Lucas needed Nathan's offer to have his back. Something very strange was happening in town and it was becoming obvious that Lucas would not be able to correct things on his own. A thought occurred to Lucas as he rubbed Newton's velvet-soft nose: Was this what Sam was referring to that I think I'm the master of my own destiny?
He'd think more about that later. Right now he needed to verify some information with the dauntless Mountie.
Stepping away from the horse and up to the jailhouse door, Lucas opened the door as he formulated the best way to explain what was happening. The only problem was that each explanation sounded crazier than the last one.
"I'm glad to find you in your office. I need some information and possibly your help," Lucas greeted their town Mountie whose face was buried behind a newspaper. The Mountie lowered his newspaper, revealing a young constable who looked like he was fresh out of the academy.
The unexpected sight stopped Lucas in his tracks. "You're not Constable Grant. Do you know where I might find him or Judge Avery?" Normally Lucas would not have been so brisk but he needed his friends to help him get to the bottom of what was going on.
The young constable stood. "I'm Constable Carlton." He had a nervousness about him that only added to Lucas' stress level. "If it's something regional, I can assist you. If it's something local, then you'll have to take the matter up with the Pinkertons here in town." Constable Carlton related the information like he was reading the lines from a script.
All of a sudden, it clicked in Lucas' mind. He's being bribed! That was the only reason a Mountie could possibly have for referring concerned citizens to a private detective agency. The Pinkertons had no jurisdiction in town. They had been up to something last Lucas remembered in Hope Valley...and evidently, they were up to even more trouble in Copper Valley.
"That's Constable Grant's horse outside, so where is he?" Lucas would wait to discuss the matter with Nathan.
A grave look came over Constable Carlton. "Obviously, you've not been in town for a long time."
Well done, Sherlock! Lucas thought. The constable should have been well aware that he'd never seen Lucas before. Lucas gave the constable a tight-lipped smile, urging him to get to his point.
The young constable stammered, "I mean that you've not heard what happened then."
Lucas drew closer to the constable, towering over him by at least a good six inches. "Obviously. So why don't you fill me in."
Constable Carlton needed no further prompting. He gestured for Lucas to sit down and proceeded to tell him the fateful events that had occurred more than two years earlier.
In the spring of 1916, Tom apparently had received no other offers on the saloon except for the asking price from Bill and Henry, deciding to be business partners. All had gone well in the beginning. Bill and Henry had built that stage for Rosemary and the saloon maintained it's wholesome and friendly reputation. But a few weeks later oil had been discovered in Hope Valley and Henry had got hungry for more business opportunities. For more power. Not long afterward, it was discovered that Henry was stealing funds from the saloon in an attempt to pay for all the different land options that might strike oil. Henry was found guilty on counts of fraud and embezzlement of funds. Since this was not Henry's first brush with the law, he was promptly sentenced to twenty years in prison.
Oh, Henry. Why couldn't you just be content with what you had? Lucas was grieved at the thought of Henry going down the wrong path. His friend had thrown away his second chance and without Mayor Stanton to plead his case, Lucas knew Henry would remain in prison for the foreseeable future.
Unfortunately, the bad news did not end with Henry's fall from grace. When Henry began his incarceration, he had spoken to a few of his fellow prisoners, men who had made claims they could get him out. They promised they would bust out and then go their separate ways...but they could never go where any of the men had come from, and that's when they learned from Henry of the quaint little town of Hope Valley. One of the men double-crossed Henry and the other men, reporting the others' intent to escape in exchange for his own early release.
The man's name was Amos Dixon.