The Stark Family Heirloom Heist

After writing two dozen mysteries, I’ve had plenty of practice pretending to be a journalist. So, I decided to capture what St. Elmo, Colorado, was like before it became a ghost town. And so, what’s one more news story? The story and characters are fiction, but the newspaper and the places are real. Grab your coffee; this mining town’s “breaking news” is about to get interesting!

Special Edition: The St. Elmo Mountaineer

August 13th, 1889

A MOST SINISTER CRIME STRIKES OUR BELOVED TOWN

The Stark Family Heirloom Heist—a Mystery Cloaked in Shadows

Dear readers,

This week, the dazzling streets of St. Elmo, bustling with miners, merchants, and hopeful prospectors, have been plunged into the icy grip of uncertainty and suspicion. A crime both brazen and baffling has unfolded beneath the flickering oil lanterns and candles of Main Street. It was the theft of the Stark Family Heirloom.

Picture, if you will, the scene. The American House Hotel, usually a beacon of refinement amidst the rough-and-tumble mining camp chaos, was alight with revelry the night of August 10th. A grand soirée hosted by none other than Mrs. Annabelle Stark herself—a woman known for her charitable heart and sparkling jewels—drew the town’s crème de la crème. St. Elmo’s elite sipped champagne beneath crystal chandeliers while laughter echoed through the halls.

But beneath the mirth lurked intrigue. Around ten o’clock, just as the string quartet struck up a lively tune, a commotion erupted upstairs. The infamous Stark Heirloom—a golden pendant said to contain a shard of opal as fiery as Annabelle’s reputation—disappeared. Vanished! Its last known location? The mahogany jewelry chest in Mrs. Stark’s locked room.

Theories abound, as theories often do in a town teeming with opportunists. Was it the work of outside bandits? Or did the thief walk among us, laughing and sipping champagne, as the Stark name crumbled in disgrace?

I spoke to Mr. James Stark, Annabelle’s elder brother and steward of the family’s mining interests in the region. Near apoplexy, Mr. Stark shared, “Mark my words, the culprit will face the law’s wrath. The pendant wasn’t merely a bauble—it’s our legacy! A gift from our late father. To some thief, it’s wealth. To us, it’s blood!”

Mr. Stark then cast a cold glare toward none other than Billy “Black Jack” McCallister, a fidgeting miner loitering near the saloon. A known card shark and ne’er-do-well, Black Jack has refuted the allegations, claiming to have barely earned enough silver to keep his boots intact, much less make off with such a prize. Yet his frequent public quarreling with the Stark family over debts has not gone unnoticed.

Then, of course, there are whispers about Sarah Finch, the strikingly beautiful but guarded clerk at the Miner’s Exchange. Miss Finch reportedly left Mrs. Stark’s service last fall under “mysterious circumstances,” and certain tongues wag that she has no love lost for her former employer. Though her alibi places her in the company of friends at the Rusty Pick Saloon that evening, one cannot help but wonder—is there more to her tale than she lets on?

And yet, dear readers, I leave you with this—could the truth slither even closer to home? Guests at the soirée reported seeing young Edward Stark, Mrs. Stark’s reclusive cousin from Denver, lingering by the staircase in the early hours before the crime was discovered. Seekers of gossip say Edward has often lamented his uncle’s “unfair will,” which left him nary a penny to his name. Is it unfounded jealousy or a motive for betrayal?

For now, the Mary Murphy Mine’s humming industry continues unabated, as we await answers to this treacherous drama. Sheriff Adams, promising swift justice, was seen locking his office door with grim determination, saying, “St. Elmo will not become a haven for thieves.”

Meanwhile, St. Elmo’s residents speculate and whisper under their breath, casting sideways glances at their neighbors over their morning coffee. Who among us has dared reach so greedily for gold that does not belong to them? And most chillingly—will they strike again?

Stay tuned, dear readers, as I, your dedicated truth-seeker, relentlessly scour every saloon, alley, and starlit corner for the answers. You shall have the truth, and I shall have your pennies, as any honest journalist should!

Yours in intrigue,

Horace P. Whitaker

Columnist Extraordinaire

Final thoughts and looking ahead

I hope this “Special Edition” has given you a glimpse at what it might have been like way back when St. Elmo was a bustling mining town. Alas, as I searched the archives of the real St. Elmo Mountaineer, I found few reports of criminal activity. If you’d like to get a glimpse of what a member of Billy the Kid’s gang did when he was cornered, check out this January 31, 1885 edition of the St. Elmo Mountaineer.

Next week, we’ll visit another ghost town, one that has fared rather well. We’re headed to Goldfield, AZ, where you’ll find everything from antique photography to ziplines. You might say that it’s going to be a wild ride. See you then!

If you enjoyed this week’s Friday Morning Post, please leave a comment with your time on the puzzle. I’d also love to hear your thoughts on the post! Thanks for being here!

See all my Friday Morning Posts here. If you missed last week’s post, you can use this link to view, Ghost Town Stories – What if Bodie Could Talk?

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