Sudden Fury. William W. Johnstone

to us. The forest has always been our home. You’re not scared of the place you grew up, are you?”

      Frank thought back to the rolling, wooded hills of the Cross Timbers in north central Texas. With a faint smile, he said, “We don’t have two-hundred-foot-tall trees where I’m from that grow so thick you can hardly see the sun. Anyway, there are wild animals in the forest, bears and wolves and things like that.”

      “We know how to avoid the dangers. I’ve never been afraid to go in the woods. I was out there that day when I ran into him. Right after he left, I used to meet him and try to talk some sense into him, but gradually I came to see that it wasn’t going to do any good. I hadn’t seen him for months before that day.” She sighed. “I was surprised. He…he had stopped taking care of himself. When he first went out there, he built a cabin and lived in it, but he told me that day that he didn’t go to the cabin anymore. He wouldn’t say why, but I got the impression he thought it was a bad place for some reason. He had let his hair and his beard grow, and he would barely talk to me. He seemed frightened of everything. You see, Mr. Morgan, that’s how I know he couldn’t be guilty of the things everyone is saying he is. He’s too scared to hurt anyone.”

      Frank knew she wanted to believe it, but he also knew that folks who are scared sometimes lash out at other people. If Ben Chamberlain really was the Terror of the Redwoods, maybe he was hurting people because he was afraid that they were going to hurt him. So he went after them first.

      “But it wasn’t long after that,” Nancy went on, “when some of the loggers started talking about seeing a monster in the woods. I know it must be Ben. Before that, he had always been careful to avoid people. Something must have happened to change him…maybe whatever it was that made him afraid to go back to his cabin…”

      “Maybe it changed him so that he’s not as gentle and peaceful as you remember him,” Frank suggested.

      “No! I know my brother, Mr. Morgan. He’s not capable of such violence.”

      For everybody who had ever gone loco and started killing, there was somebody who claimed it wasn’t possible, Frank thought. Nancy might not want to believe it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true.

      Still, maybe she was right, Frank thought. What if she was? If some of those bounty hunters came across a big, hairy fella in the woods who ran off when they spotted him, they would go after him and do their best to kill him. Frank had no doubt of that. If Ben Chamberlain was innocent, he didn’t deserve that fate. Even if he was guilty, the idea of him being gunned down like a rabid animal didn’t sit well with Frank.

      And he sure didn’t like the thought that somebody might chop the head off Ben’s corpse, bring it back here to collect that ten grand in blood money, and haul it out of a sack right in front of Nancy.

      But did he want to get more involved in this than he already was, when he’d just been passing through the area? Oregon was still waiting for him.

      Oregon wasn’t going anywhere, he reminded himself. It was just possible that Ben Chamberlain was innocent of the killings. In that case, somebody needed to find him and get him back safely to his father’s house before the bounty hunters started taking potshots at him.

      There was still one question he wanted an answer to before he agreed to help Nancy. “If you’re so sure your brother is what they’re calling the Terror,” he said, “why haven’t you told your father about it?”

      “I have,” she replied with a bitter twist of her mouth. “I told him about seeing Ben in the woods. He didn’t believe me. You see, when Ben left, he didn’t tell Father where he was going. Father thinks that Ben ran off to San Francisco or somewhere like that. He said that’s probably where Ben is now, drinking and…and associating with loose women.”

      “No offense, Miss Chamberlain, but your father strikes me as a stubborn man.”

      She laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “That’s certainly true, Mr. Morgan.” She looked intently at him. “But I think you can match him…if you want to. Will you do it? Will you find Ben and bring him back here, so I can keep him safe?”

      “How do you know he won’t just run off again?”

      He could tell she hadn’t thought about that. She was so worried that all she wanted was to have her brother back with her.

      “I’ll figure out something,” she said. “I’ll just have to find a way to make him listen to reason.”

      That might be easier said than done, Frank thought. But that part of it was her problem, not his.

      “If it turns out he killed those men, he’ll have to face justice for it,” Frank warned her.

      “I’ll deal with that when the time comes, too,” she said. What seemed to be her natural spirit was returning. She lifted her chin with a touch of defiance. “At least if he’s here, or even in jail, he won’t be shot down like an animal.”

      Frank didn’t have any other questions to ask or arguments to make. He had to come to a decision, and as usual, he didn’t brood over it. He knew instinctively what he had to do. With a nod, he said, “All right, Miss Chamberlain. I’ll do my best to find your brother and bring him back here to you.”

      She reached out and put a hand on his arm. “Thank you so much, Mr. Morgan.”

      “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t done anything.”

      “No, but if you tell my father that you’ll take the job after all, he’ll stop offering that bounty.”

      “I’ll have to tell him that I’m going to kill the Terror to get him to do that.”

      Nancy smiled. “He doesn’t have to know the truth, though. He’ll see that I was right, once you bring Ben back here.”

      Frank hoped he got a chance to do that. With every hour that went by while the woods were full of bounty hunters, the odds against Ben Chamberlain’s survival went up.

      “I’ll talk to your father, and I won’t mention anything you told me,” Frank said as he put his hat on. He didn’t feel completely comfortable about deceiving Rutherford Chamberlain, but the man had already made up his mind about his son. Chamberlain wouldn’t believe that Ben was the so-called Terror until he saw it with his own eyes.

      “Thank you so much!” Impulsively, Nancy threw her arms around Frank and hugged him. He gave her an awkward pat on the back, well aware he was old enough to be her father. In fact, he was pretty sure that Conrad was several years older than Nancy. His saddle might even be older than she was! He was glad when she stepped back and smiled up at him.

      “There’s one more thing,” he said. “If I locate your brother, he’s not going to know me, and he probably won’t listen to me, even if I tell him that you sent me to find him. Is there anything he’d know, something I could tell him or some object he’d recognize, so he’d be more likely to believe me?”

      Nancy frowned in thought for a moment, then reached behind her neck. Frank realized after a second that she was unfastening the clasp of a necklace. She took it off, pulling a small locket out from under her dress. As she pressed the necklace and locket into his palm, he felt the warmth that the metal had taken on from being nestled next to her skin.

      “Ben gave me that,” she said. “His picture is in it. If…if there’s anything left of the person he used to be, he’ll recognize it.”

      Frank nodded as he tucked the chain and locket into his shirt pocket. “That sounds like just what I need.”

      He opened the door of the sitting room and looked out into the foyer. It was empty at the moment. As he started toward the library, the butler stepped into the hall at the far end. Dennis raised white eyebrows in surprise.

      “I came back to talk to Mr. Chamberlain,” Frank said. He glanced toward the sitting room door, which was still open a crack. Nancy smiled gratefully at him through the gap.

      “I’ll