"Why would Lee do anything to you? Did you leave Cheyenne? And why can't you show your face in Denver?" Keep him talking, Mary told herself. Keep him talking until she found out what he wanted, and why he was in Utopia.
"I've just come from Denver." Pelham sneered at her. "And I barely managed to escape arrest. The police are searching for me."
"Whatever for?" Mary truly couldn't imagine her former fiance doing anything even remotely illegal. He was always so controlled.
" 'Whatever for?'" he mimicked. "You really don't know, do you? You had no idea that the only reason I was courting you was to keep an eye on your precious brother, David, and to get my hands on all that lovely money your family possesses."
"You're wrong about that," Mary told him. "I knew you only wanted to marry me for my money, but I didn't know why. You have money of your own." The kitchen table was between them and Mary couldn't see Pelham's hands.
"I had money of my own," Pelham told her. "Until my father found out that I was creating my own money upon occasion. I guess he didn't appreciate my artistic talent. He disowned me. Cut me off without a penny."
"But you always had cash," Mary insisted. "I've seen you with lots of money. You live very well. Too well for a bank clerk—unless that clerk has money behind him."
"And so I did until your husband"—he sneered the word—"intervened. Until he caused the death of the source of all my money."
"Lee didn't cause anyone's death!" Mary defended her husband.
"Tell that to Senator Warner Millen. Tell that to his wife."
"Judas Priest!" Mary exclaimed, using Lee's favorite oath. "You worked with the senator."
"So you do know," Pelham said. "I wondered."
"I don't know what you did for the senator, but I know it couldn't have been good." Mary eased back from the table. She could see through the window of the back door from where she stood and she almost let out a scream as someone tiptoed up onto the back porch. She stifled a sigh of relief as Lee passed by the window behind Pelham.
"I see you do appreciate my talent," Pelham said as he watched Mary's brown eyes widen. "Before I moved to Cheyenne, I created currency for Senator Millen. And a few stocks and bonds and legal documents when he needed them. But once I settled in Cheyenne, the senator hired me to watch David. And look how dedicated I was! Why, I was even willing to marry his half-breed sister to be close to him."
"You—you—snake!"
Pelham took another step forward. "It took me a while to recognize your husband, but I finally placed him. You see, we ran into each other in Denver a few years back."
"You're the forger." Mary watched as Lee raised a finger to his lips and shook his head. "The pen man." Lee frowned at her.
"He told you about that, too? That's too bad, Mary. Now, you know all my secrets. And I don't like having people know my secrets." Pelham stepped around the table. He had a gun in his hand and it was pointed at Mary.
"Don't come any closer," Mary warned. "I'll shoot." She reached into her right pocket for the silver derringer. But her pocket was empty. Lee had her gun. She'd given it to him.
"It appears we're at a standoff. But I don't think you'll shoot me, Mary. After all, I was your beloved intended." Pelham took another step.
"You're wrong," she bluffed. "I will shoot you."
"No, you won't," he replied confidently as he raised his gun to fire.
"She might not," Lee announced from behind him, "But I will, you sorry son of a bitch!" Lee held the silver two-shot derringer in his hand.
When Pelham saw that Lee held the derringer, he smiled. "I'll kill her," he warned.
"No, you won't!" Mary screamed as she flung the teapot at his head, then dropped to the floor behind the kitchen table.
Pelham fired, but the shot went wide, missing its mark.
Lee fired back.
Pelham clutched his shoulder and fell back against the table.
Lee grabbed Crosgrove by his shirtfront, lifted him off the furniture, clipped him on the chin with a vicious uppercut, and let him fall to the floor.
In seconds, Lee was around the table kneeling beside Mary. "Mary, are you all right? Where did he hit you? Christ, Two-Shot, are you bleeding anywhere?" He ran his hands over her body feeling for blood, searching for the wound.