Page 15 of Mail-Order Avis (A Mail-Order Mystery #3)

Fifteen

T he lunch rush over, Avis wiped down a table, then moved to the next. A half-dozen patrons lingered in the café, and with things finally slowing down, Hattie and Cora Belle had retreated to the kitchen to prepare goodies for the bakery’s display case.

She was about to join them and help carry things out when movement outside the café windows caught her eye.

Reed strode past, his coat flapping behind him like he meant to duel someone, eyes like flint. She wiped her hands on her apron, narrowed her eyes, and headed after him.

“Where are you going?” Hattie called from the kitchen door.

Avis stopped and looked at her. “To keep Mr. Barclay from murdering someone.” She continued out the door.

By the time she reached the land office, two doors down, Reed had already gone inside.

Avis took a moment to collect herself. If everything they’d discussed earlier was true, then Mr. Beeks wasn’t a man to be trusted.

She also didn’t want to distract Reed if things got heated and they came to blows.

Still, she hated the thought of things coming to that.

Maybe if she was there, Reed would rein himself in and be less likely to punch Mr. Beeks in the nose.

Still deciding, Avis crept toward the window and pressed herself against the wall. The door stood slightly ajar. Reed must not have noticed it hadn’t latched all the way.

Avis winced at Reed’s words. “You want to explain this?” he said, voice tight with barely controlled fury.

Her jaw dropped. She’d never heard him angry before, let alone downright furious.

“That’s just a deed transfer,” Mr. Beeks answered smoothly. “Standard filing. Perfectly legal.”

She heard what sounded like someone tapping a piece of paper with a finger.

“That is not Cyrus Van Cleet’s signature. I’ve seen it a dozen times since I arrived. Samuel Murray agrees with me.”

Avis’ jaw dropped further.Mr. Beeks forged Cyrus Van Cleet’s signature? Another sound caught her attention, and she turned toward it.

Hattie stepped out the café door and shut it behind her. “Avis? What in tarnation is going on?”

Avis motioned for her to keep her voice down, putting a finger to her lips. She pointed to the door as Hattie approached. “Reed’s in there giving Mr. Beeks what for.”

Hattie’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas. “Well, land sakes,” she whispered. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” Hattie got as close to Avis as she could and leaned her ear toward the door, grinning.

Avis watched her and shook her head in disbelief. She supposed some people liked a good fight.

Reed’s voice grew louder. “You slipped that forged deed into Cyrus’s private files and hoped no one would look…but I did. And now the whole town’s going to know!”

Before Beeks could comment, Cora Belle and a few patrons came out of the café. Avis saw them heading their way and rolled her eyes. “Get back,” she hissed, trying to shoo them away.

Naturally, they kept coming. “What’s going on?” Cora Belle whispered back.

“You don’t have any authority here!” Beeks snapped. “And never will, as far as I’m concerned!”

“And how are you going to do that?” Reed retorted in a terse tone.

“I’ll run for mayor myself!”

Reed laughed. “And who’s going to vote for you after they find out you forged Cyrus’s signature?”

The sound of a chair scraping across wood caught everyone’s ear.

At this point, every jaw outside the land office had gone slack.

To Avis’ horror, several more patrons came out of the café and joined the crowd.

She facepalmed and shook her head. One of them, Mr. Merlot, was still eating his sandwich.

“Oh, good grief,” she muttered. It might’ve come out a whisper, but everyone heard it. She just hoped Reed and Beeks didn’t. But how could they? The two were still shouting at each other.

The sound of shattering glass rang out from inside.

“Now that wasn’t very neighborly of you,” they heard Reed say. “If I’d known what a low-down, crooked snake you really are, I’d have installed myself as mayor the day I arrived!” Reed kept his tirade going, making everyone wince.

Sheriff Cole sauntered his way through the crowd and joined Avis. “What’s going on in there?”

Hattie giggled. “Reed Barclay’s roasting Milton Beeks like a Sunday chicken!”

“And another thing!” Reed shouted from inside, “You brought Avis Prescott into this thinking you could use her as a distraction. Well, the joke’s on you, Beeks! I plan to marry that girl, and quick-like!”

Silence.

Not just from inside the land office, but outside as well. Everyone turned their attention to Avis.

She gaped at them and shrugged.

“Well, goody-goody for you,” Mr. Beeks shot back. He grumbled something unintelligible that made everyone outside exchange a look.

The two men inside continued to exchange words as the argument grew more heated.

Sheriff Cole shook his head in wonder. “Wow. He really is roasting Beeks.”

“Crispy skin and everything,” Hattie chimed.

Sheriff Cole shoved his hat back, then rested his hands on his gun belt. “I should go in.”

“I’ll go with you,” Avis said.

Sheriff Cole held up a hand. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Miss Prescott.”

Her lips pressed into a firm line as she narrowed her eyes. “I’m going in.” Before the sheriff could say another word, she stormed into the land office.

Milton Beeks stood behind his desk, face red as a beet.

Reed, holding the forged deed in one hand, was clearly in the middle of a righteous storm, wagging his finger at Beeks with the other.

When he saw Avis, his face softened. “Avis, honey. What are you doing here?” he asked, still glaring daggers at Beeks before turning back to her.

“I…well, I thought you might need me.”

He smiled. “I’ll always need you.”

“Oh, please,” Mr. Beeks groaned. “Just marry the girl and get it over with. The way the two of you are staring at each other is disgusting.” He looked at Avis. “This reprobate is accusing me of forgery, just so you know. I’d think twice about marrying him.” He scowled anew at Reed.

Avis looked at the paper in Reed’s hand.“I nearly lost the life I came here to build because of that paper.”She met Mr. Beeks’ gaze. “And now I’d like to hear what the sheriff has to say about it.”

She stepped aside, revealing Sheriff Cole as he entered, calm as a breeze.

“Reed.” He tipped his hat, then smiled at Mr. Beeks.

“Milton Beeks, you’re being investigated for falsifying property records and misfiling land deeds without public disclosure.

You can come with me quietly, or we can do this the hard way. ”

“What?!” Beeks shouted. “You can’t arrest me!”

Reed leaned toward the sheriff. “What’s the hard way?”

“I punch him in the nose, knock him out, and drag him out of here,” Sheriff Cole said calmly.

“I’d like to see that!” Hattie called from outside.

Avis turned toward the door. “Hattie!”

Beeks opened his mouth like he meant to argue, then snapped it shut. “I want my lawyer!”

“Do you have one?” Sheriff Cole asked.

“Yes. I’ll go fetch him.” He came out from behind the desk and headed for the door.

Sheriff Cole grabbed him by the arm. “And where might your lawyer be?”

“Portland!” Beeks struggled briefly, until Sheriff Cole pulled his gun on him.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” the sheriff drawled. “You’re coming peacefully, right?” He glanced out the window, then back. “Or do I need to fetch a few of the men outside to help escort you to the jail? Hansen Merlot ought to be done with his sandwich by now. He’d love to help me.”

Beeks eyed him warily. “Who’s outside?”

“Oh, let’s see…besides Hansen, Wilson Mitchell was having a quick bite at the café, along with Chandler Trent.”

Mr. Beeks’ eyes widened. “That ox of a blacksmith?”

“That’s the one,” Sheriff Cole said.

Beeks’s shoulders slumped. “Fine, I’ll go peacefully.” He glared at Reed. “Mark my words, this isn’t over.” He left with the sheriff, and Avis noted two men fell in step behind them to make sure Beeks didn’t try to bolt.

Reed turned to her and took her hands, drawing her attention. “Avis, darling.”

She smiled up at him. “So, Mr. Beeks was behind it all?”

“Seems that way. My guess is he was trying to take over the buildings Cyrus invested in and had built.”

“But why?” she asked.

“So he could turn around, sell them, and hightail it out of town with the money.”

She gasped. “Why, that’s awful.”

“Yes, it is.” He gave her hands a light squeeze. “I know I didn’t send for you, and you weren’t the bride I expected…because I wasn’t expecting one at all. But I have to say, you’re the woman I’ve been hoping for. Maybe my whole life.”

Her breath caught.

He drew closer. “I love the way you’ve made the café and bakery your own. I love the strength in you, Avis. I love the peace I feel when I’m near you. And I know it might be plum too soon, but I don’t want to wait anymore.”

He reached into his coat and pulled out a simple silver ring. “This was my mother’s, and I’d like you to wear it.” He got down on one knee.

A collective gasp went up from the crowd outside, watching through the open door and window.

“Avis Prescott, will you marry me? Not because of some mail-order bride advertisement, but because I’m asking you, right here and now.

I know it may seem too soon to hear this, but I love you.

I don’t know if it happened while we were doing dishes together or while I was making you dinner…

but it happened. And here I am, offering you my heart and my life. What do you say?”

Avis’ jaw dropped as her heart thundered in her chest so loud she wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. But her eyes shone with tears as she smiled. “Yes,” she said, breathless. “Reed, yes!”

The crowd outside burst into applause. Avis caught Hattie wiping away a tear and Cora Belle fanning herself with a menu. Before she could say a word to them, Reed stood, gathered her in his arms, and kissed her.

When he broke the kiss, another cheer went up as he slipped the ring onto her finger and kissed her again. When he finally pulled away, Avis didn’t know what to say. All she could do was look into his eyes and smile.

No, she hadn’t come to Fiddler’s Gap wanting a husband. She only wanted a café. But now that she was about to have both, she couldn’t imagine living her life with just the one.

“Reed,” she said softly. “I love you too. I…just realized it the other day. I think maybe I’ve been waiting for you too but didn’t know it until you came along.”

He gave her a warm smile. “Ah, honey, we’re going to be just fine, you and me.”

“Land sakes!” Hattie cried from the crowd. “We got us a wedding to plan, folks! Gives me a good excuse to bake a big cake!” She turned and shooed the crowd back to the café.

“Good old Hattie,” Reed said. “You know, I hope she never quits. I can’t imagine the café without her.”

Avis laughed. “Neither can I. In fact, I can’t imagine living anywhere else but Fiddler’s Gap. I’m so glad that advertisement made its way to me.”

“Well then, Miss Prescott, soon to be Mrs. Barclay, we can thank Lyle and Lola the next time we see them. Of course, they may be behind bars with Mr. Beeks beside them.”

She made a face. “Well, letting them know their misdeeds led to our happy ending might still be something.” Avis wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tight.

When she came to Fiddler’s Gap, she wasn’t sure what to expect. But having her dream come true and getting a wonderful man for her future husband made it all worthwhile.

Another thought occurred, and Avis smiled. She was going to have to thank Aunt Henrietta too.

THE END