He stiffened. “You cleaned my room?”
“Yes.”
“Did you touch anything?”
“Just the dust,” Raven replied.
The sudden appearance of another man who was older, taller, and outweighed the short, thin Aubrey by a sizable amount, drew their attention. “What the hell’s taking you so long?” he demanded. Like Stipe, he was wearing an expensive-looking suit.
“Just give me a minute,” Stipe said, still critically assessing Raven and Brax.
“I’ve given you enough time. Give me whatever this thing is you boasted about being so valuable, or I file the deed.”
Raven now had an inkling as to what this was about. He had to be one of the men named on the IOUs.
Stipe said, “I just needed to know who these two are. The regular help is gone. Didn’t want to find out they were squatters. I’ll go get it now. Come on back to the house.”
Stipe departed but the other man said, “Sorry for the interruption.”
Brax offered an appreciative nod in response, and the man left to join Stipe.
Once they were alone, Brax walked to her side. “I think all hell’s about to break loose if Stipe promised him what was in the box.”
“I agree.” And a frisson of fear crawled over her.
As if he’d felt it, Brax told her, “Don’t worry, we’ll be okay.”
She nodded, hoping Stipe’s appearance wouldn’t delay their departure. Leaving was now more imperative than ever.
They were walking back to the cabin when they heard the older man bellow, “You have until noon tomorrow, Stipe! Not a second more!”
They shared a look and walked on.
Moments later, Stipe appeared on the porch of the cabin and after throwing open the door, yelled at them, “Where is it!”
“Where’s what?” Brax asked angrily.
“My property, damn you! I know you have it!”
“We don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brax yelled.
In response, Stipe snatched the few clothes she and Brax owned out of the small closet and threw them to the floor. He then grabbed up their traveling bags, rifled through the items inside, while promising, “If I find anything of mine in here, I’ll string you both up before the sun sets!”
The angry Raven and Brax had no choice but to watch as he searched the drawers of the bureau. Finding nothing there to soothe his fury, he strode over to the bed. After tearing off the sheets, he tipped the mattress off the frame, produced a thin-bladed hunting knife, and slitthe ticking to search its insides. He slashed the sofa next, followed by its pillows. He marched into the washroom and began tossing the contents of Brax’s shaving kit onto the floor before starting in on the small bag holding her toiletries. Raven paid particular attention to where the small glass eye dropper landed. His mayhem trashed the small place but he found nothing. Turning to them, his red face beaded with sweat, he snarled, “I’ll be back in an hour! Have my supper ready!”
And he exited.
Raven eyed the mess left behind. Feathers from the bed and pillows were everywhere. The mattress and sofa were candidates for the trash bin. Their clothes were strewn across the floor and their travel bags carelessly tossed aside. The fury on Brax’s face broke her heart because as her man, pretend or not, he’d not intervened because doing so might have cost him his life. “Violence and terror are all men like him know,” she said quietly. “I’d rather have you alive than dead. Clothing can he replaced. You can’t be.”
His angry eyes met hers, and whatever his thoughts, they weren’t shared. She respected that. In the face of the disrespect, he was allowed to feel what he did privately within himself.
“I vote we leave this mess as is,” she told him. “I’ll get his supper started and we can focus on getting our belongings ready for when we leave. But first I need to get something.”
She walked into the washroom. After visually searching the items on the floor, she picked up the small dropper bottle. Rejoining Brax, she showed it to him. “Stipe’s going to take a very long nap.”
“What is that?”
“Laudanum.”