Page 47 of More Than Meets the Eye

What was he up to? Logan shifted, itching to take a closer look, but he dared not leave his cover. This hand wasn’t over yet. He’d keep his cards close to his vest a little longer.

Less than a minute later, the firm sound of a door closing announced Earl’s departure out the front. Whatever he’d been doing, it hadn’t taken long.

Too curious to let it go, Logan took a quick peek at his watch. A little early, but he could make it work.

Abandoning his post, he ran as quietly as possible through the woods, circling back toward town. As slowly as Earl moved, outdistancing him wouldn’t be a problem. Staying hidden presented more of a challenge, but Logan kept to the trees as long as possible before slowing his pace and sauntering out to the road.

Keeping his stride loose-limbed and casual, Logan swung his arms and whistled an improvised tune to disguise his slightly labored breathing as he rounded the bend that would bring him into Earl’s path. Sure enough, halfway into the turn, the bootlegger limped into sight.

“Howdy.” Logan lifted his hat in greeting as he examined Earl.

Nothing seemed to have changed. No bulging pockets. No new items in his hand. Just the burlap sack. A sack that should have been empty yet remained flung over his shoulder.

Earl lifted his free hand to give a cursory tap to his hat brim and grunted something that could’ve been a greeting. Could’ve been a loud stomach growl, too. Hard to tell, even with two good ears. No wonder Miss Gilliam had so much trouble interpreting her stepfather’s communication.

Logan pointed his hat in the direction he was walking. “The schoolhouse down thisaway?”

“Yep.” Earl kept his head down.

Humorous, really, his weak attempts to remain anonymous. No sense making him nervous, though, so Logan slapped his hat back on his head and grinned like a simpleton. “Thanks!”

As Earl limped past, Logan turned, making a show of waving as he watched the older man go by. Something small and rectangular sat in the bottom of the sack. It could have been in there earlier with the jug and Logan just hadn’t noticed it from the greater distance, but his gut told him Earl had picked it up during his short tour of the schoolhouse.

Had Jack Simmons stashed the payment in a book and left it in the classroom? Possibly. But why not simply pocket the banknotes and leave the book behind? Something didn’t add up.

“Good day to ya,” Logan called, channeling Eva’s cheerful spirit as he backpedaled down the road.

Earl never turned, just raised a hand in silent farewell. Not even a grunt this time.

Logan let him go and kept his sedate pace all the way back to the schoolhouse. Once there, however, he accelerated his timetable. In the span of twenty minutes he’d collected the odiferous moonshine, buried it in a shallow grave beneath the oak tree he’d used for surveillance, and fetched Shamgar from the shady spot down by the stream a quarter mile from the schoolyard.

After mounting, Logan urged Shamgar into a canter. If he hurried, he might still make it back in time to pay a call on Eva before suppertime.

But when he rode onto the Hamilton homestead—odd that he’d started thinking of his father’s property in those terms—the chaos that met him pushed all thoughts of supper from his mind. Hezekiah was snorting and running between his pen and the back door. Zacharias was strapping on a gun belt, and Seth was arguing with a deaf woman about his asthma not stopping him from doing what must be done.

The one person Logan didn’t see was Eva.

The knot in his stomach hardened into a stone.

19

Logan trotted Shamgar straight to the back porch. “What’s happened?”

Zacharias speared him with a glare. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with Evie.” He spat the accusation like a shotgun spewing birdshot, and the pellets hit their mark. Every word stung the hide around Logan’s heart. Fear seeped in through the quickly widening holes.

“What do you mean I’m supposed to be with her? I haven’t seen her since yesterday.” He eyed Seth striding down the porch steps, his furrowed brow only increasing Logan’s worry. “I stayed the night in Ben Franklin.”

Seth approached Shamgar but maintained about a foot or two of buffer between himself and the horse, no doubt avoiding the heavy layer of trail grit on both the gelding and its rider. Logan made a point to minimize his movements to prevent stirring the dust.

“Did Evangeline know you were in Ben Franklin?” Seth queried.

Logan shook his head. “No. I hadn’t planned to extend my stay, but something came up.” He glanced at the porch, where Miss Gilliam stood, wringing her hands in her apron, then looked back at Seth.

The younger Hamilton brother seemed to catch his meaning. He raised a brow and snuck a peek over his shoulder at the pretty brunette. He wanted to ask for details, Logan could feel it, but the urgency of Eva’s disappearance took precedence over Miss Gilliam’s situation.

Zacharias marched toward them. “If Evie didn’t know Logan was gone, we can still start the search at his place.” He tossed a box of .38 caliber cartridges to his brother, who snatched them out of the air with one hand, the rattle of the metal slugs raising the hair on the back of Logan’s neck. “Grab some rope and a couple lanterns,” he ordered as he set off for the barn. “Hopefully we’ll find her before dark, but I don’t want to waste time fetching lamps if we haven’t.”

Logan’s grip tightened on Shamgar’s reins, and the horse sidestepped. “How long has she been gone?” he demanded of Seth as he forced his grip to relax.