Olivia hesitated, and Derek saw a flash of guilt cross her face. “A lawyer. In town. He said he’d been waiting for the right time to contact the Langston family about some old business arrangements.”
Marcus and his sons exchanged sharp, meaningful glances. “What was this lawyer’s name?”
“Edwards,” Olivia said. “James Edwards. He had an office above the general store in Millfield. He said he’d been holding documents for my grandfather since 1852.”
Derek felt the ground shift beneath his feet. “There’s no lawyer named Edwards in Millfield. I know everyone in that town. The office above the general store has been empty for years.”
The silence that followed was deafening, heavy, and absolute. Finally, Marcus spoke, his voice deadly calm.
“Someone has been playing all three of our families against each other. Someone who knew about the silver, knew about the contract, and knew exactly how to manipulate us into coming here at the same time.” He looked directly at Derek. “Someone who wanted us to discover the theft together, so we’d suspect each other instead of looking for the real culprit.”
“But who else knew?” Olivia whispered, her voice trembling.
Derek thought about the photograph he’d found in the metal box. The three men, standing together, partners, before everything went wrong. “Someone our grandfathers trusted enough to tell. Someone who’s been waiting fifty years for the perfect moment to take everything.”
The sound of slow, deliberate applause echoed through the tunnel from the main chamber.
Derek, Olivia, and the Cross family turned as one toward the entrance. A woman was stepping into the lantern light. She was older than the rest of them, perhaps sixty, with striking silver hair and eyes that held decades of carefully controlled anger.
“Excellent detective work,” she said, her voice carrying a slight accent that Derek couldn’t place. “You’re absolutely right, Mr. Langston. Someone our grandfathers trusted. Someone they betrayed so thoroughly that it took me thirty years to piece together what really happened here.”
Marcus stepped protectively in front of his sons. “Who are you?”
“My name is Elena Vasquez. My grandfather was Roberto Vasquez. The man who discovered this silver vein in 1851. The man your grandfathers murdered and buried somewhere on this property so they could steal his claim.”
Derek felt the blood drain from his face. “That’s impossible. My grandfather was an honest man.”
“Your grandfather was a killer, Mr. Langston,” Elena said, her voice cutting. “Along with Thomas Harrow and William Cross. Roberto came to them as partners. He showed them the silver he’d found, asked for their help in properly establishing a legal claim. Instead, they killed him and divided his discovery among themselves.”
Elena pulled a worn leather journal from her coat pocket. “This belonged to my grandfather. He wrote everything down. Including the exact location where he found the silver, the conversations he had with your grandfathers, and his growing suspicion that they were planning to betray him.”
“His final entry was written the night before he disappeared.” She opened the journal and read aloud. “‘They have agreed to meet me at dawn to discuss the partnership contracts. Samuel suggested we finalize everything in the tunnel system he has been building. I pray I am wrong about my suspicions, but I fear I will not see another sunrise.'”
Olivia grabbed Derek’s arm, her face pale with horror. “The sealed chambers. What if they weren’t just for storing silver?”
“The back chamber contains more than empty shelves,” Elena confirmed grimly. “I found my grandfather’s remains three months ago, along with clear evidence of how he died. Your grandfathers didn’t just steal from him. They executed him and built this entire operation on top of his grave.”
Marcus’s voice was barely a whisper. “How do you know all this?”
“Because I’ve spent three decades tracking down every document, every witness, every piece of evidence that proved what happened here. And when I finally had enough proof, I decided to take back what was stolen from my family.”
Elena smiled, a cold, sharp expression. “Every ounce of silver that came out of this mine belonged to Roberto Vasquez. I simply collected what was rightfully mine.”
Derek suddenly realized the full scope of what Elena had accomplished. “You created the fake lawyer. You manipulated all of us into coming here.”
“I wanted you to see the truth with your own eyes. I wanted you to understand that everything your family has built was founded on murder and theft. The silver is gone, yes. But it was never yours to begin with.”
“Where is it now?” Marcus demanded, his voice shaking with rage…
