Chapter 29
Trying to work off his day’s frustrations, Blade raised an axe over his head and drove it into the end of a fireplace log. The sharp edge bit deeply into the wood and stopped, stuck.
Just like he was. A week ago, he’d followed Peabody to a rooming house next to an abandoned button factory. The investigator carried in several bags and left empty-handed. When Blade inquired a short time later, the stone-faced hausfrau had shouted, “No rooms,” and slammed the door in his face.
Peabody never returned to the rooming house nor did he venture anywhere near Patrick or Natalie. Again, sporting his unusual lion’s head walking stick, he stopped several times at the telegraph office, chatted with an apothecary, and let a tailor fit him for a new suit.
From what Blade could tell, Candy had paid Peabody for a job already done, and the investigator was simply spending his pay.
Blade rocked the axe handle until he worked the head free of the log. Retaking his stance, he swung again. The oak bolt split in two, halves toppling like maudlin actors onto piles at the base of the chopping block. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and upended another length.
Candy was the one behaving suspiciously. She’d abandoned her usual routine of sleeping until noon and now swept into his parents’ dining room before seven each morning with Mary’s plump, dark-haired friend, Emily, in tow. After breakfast, they led Stormy and his mother through a rigorous schedule of house hunting and wedding planning, staying out well past his family’s etched-in-stone dinner hour. No matter how he parsed Stormy’s recounting of her days’ conversations, Candy had not revealed a secret plan.
Maybe she didn’t have one.
With angry whacks, he split four more logs, and then stacked the pieces on top of the wood he’d chopped yesterday and the day before.
His father proclaimed that abandoned men, along with pretty girls named Natalie, needed to stick together, and so had invited Jared, Patrick, and Natalie for supper each evening. At the dinner table, he teased out news about the children’s activities and sidestepped the discussion he kept pointedly avoiding—cashing out Blade’s shares in the bank.
Yesterday, Natalie giggled and blew bubbles in her glass of milk while Sam tested her on times twos and times threes. Patrick and Jared had argued good-naturedly whether the Maroon’s new pitcher would be the team’s starter or closer.
The children’s features and mannerisms were nearly identical to Jared’s. Blade was forced to conclude he wasn’t Patrick’s father.
With a final, fierce blow, he drove the axe head into the chopping block.
He’d been a fool to think Patrick was his son. When Candy broke his heart five years ago, he convinced himself she’d also stolen his future. He’d set his mind on living out his days like a hermit. Then, last night, Natalie had hugged him tightly as he carried her, yawning, to Jared’s carriage.
With a gut-wrenching start, he realized what he really wanted in life was a boisterous brood of children—his and Stormy’s. He wanted to teach them to read and rope, and tuck them tenderly into bed at night after stories of riverboats and ranching.
Tonight, he’d tell Stormy he was ready to buy tickets to Yankton. With Mouse’s help, they would evade any marshal who wanted to arrest him for battering Vance. Then, he’d give Zed the money to pay off the ranch note. He’d marry Stormy.
After scrubbing his sweaty hands on his jeans, he opened the back door and stepped into the kitchen. He pecked Corinda cheerfully on the cheek.
“You best wash up,” the cook chided. “Your mama doesn’t like it when you’re late for dinner.”
“Olivia’s home?” That meant Stormy was, too.
Ignoring Corinda’s scolds, he picked up a tray of filled soup bowls and raised the platter high like a professional waiter. He maneuvered around Jackson, who’d just come in through the swinging door, and stepped into the dining room.
Jared, Patrick, Natalie, and his parents sat at the table.
“Finally,” Patrick exclaimed. “I’m starving.”
Blade passed out the soups, set the tray on a sideboard, and took his seat. “Is Stormy upstairs?”
“She’s still out with Candy and Emily,” his mother said. “Shopping.”
A warning bell clanged in his gut. “I thought we agreed she’d stay close to you.”
“I really couldn’t help it. Candy sent me off with the purchases.” His mother speared a spinach leaf with her salad fork. “I’m sure they’ll be along soon.”
Leaning forward, Blade moderated his voice so he would not frighten the children. “When did you last see her?”
“We were leaving Madame Zarov’s.”
“How long ago?” he growled.
Olivia flinched. “About two hours. I’m sure everything is fine. Maybe they stopped for a drink.”
“Sam, Jared, a word, please.” Blade stood and dropped his open napkin onto the table. Motioning for his father and brother to follow him, he marched to the library and slammed shut the heavy oak door. The old cavalry sword mounted over the fireplace rattled in its holder.
“You might be overreacting,” Jared said.
“I don’t think so.” Blade straightened to his full height and looked down on his younger brother. “A week ago, your wife gave five hundred dollars to a private investigator named Edward Peabody.”
“Five hundred dollars? Where would she get that kind of money?”
“I gave it to her,” his father said.
Jared’s gaze see-sawed crossly between them.
“Before I left Prosperity,” Blade said, “somebody named Peabody telegraphed detailed descriptions of Patrick and Natalie to the man who holds a lien on the Hawkins Ranch.”
“Candy might not be a doting mother,” his brother huffed, “but she’d never do anything to harm our children. How do you explain the connection?”
“I can’t,” Blade admitted.
Jared’s face turned beet-red. “Then, you have no right to accuse Candy of—”
The door opened a crack.
“Granna says come quick,” Patrick called. “Someone’s coming up the drive.”
Blade rushed past the boy. He’d almost lost Stormy to Sultan and to Vance. Surely fate wouldn’t test him a third time.
Twin lanterns on a hansom swayed in time to the rhythmic raps of the nag’s shoes on the driveway’s smooth stones.
“See?” Jared said. “They’re fine. You aren’t always right.”
Blade bristled at his brother’s taunt. Stormy’s homecoming didn’t explain Candy’s business with Edward Peabody. Or, the connection to Jonathan Vance. His brother had always cared more about himself and measured events by how they affected him.
Impatient to hold Stormy in his arms and hear about her day, Blade ran down the steps and yanked open the hansom door.
Candy stepped out. Her jaw was set, her eyes cold. Her voice cracked the still evening air. “Where’s Stormy?”
Alarm raced through Blade’s body. “Isn’t she with you?”
“I will not devote another minute to your ungrateful fiancée,” Candy said. “It’s a cruel joke to play on family and friends, leaving without a word.”
“Stormy left and you didn’t see her go?” The story made no sense. Why would Stormy leave? She had no money and no place to go.
Emily disembarked from the hansom, her tight dark curls now fatigued and drooping. “We searched high and low for nearly an hour with our hearts in our throats. My nerves are strained quite beyond repair.”
“Where?” Blade pressed. “Where were you?”
Emily flushed and avoided his gaze. “At a shop near the docks.”
“What shop?”
“Please don’t tell my father,” the chit wailed.
“What shop?”
“Fifi’s.”
Startled, Blade turned toward Candy. Years ago, she’d spent his roustabout pay on a black bustier at Fifi’s.
“Tip the driver, Jared.” Candy snapped her fingers. “Patrick, Natalie, collect your things and get in our carriage. We’re going home.”
“The hell you are.” Blade seized Candy and Emily’s arms in bruising grips and propelled them up the steps and into the front sitting room. “You left Stormy near the Crazy Lady Saloon in the roughest section of town. You’ll stay here until she’s safely home.”
Emily sniffled. “You can’t hold me against my will.”
“I can, and I will. Describe everything that happened after you arrived at Fifi’s.”
“There was a big man with a mean scar from his eye to his chin,” Candy said.
“His little dog tried to bite me.” Emily scowled. “Stormy was so impatient. She practically pushed me out of the little dressing room. Candy needed to run to the jeweler across the street. We told her we’d be back and weren’t gone more than ten minutes.”
The hair rose on the back of Blade’s neck. “What makes you think she left the shop?”
“The clerk said she got dressed and walked out. She didn’t wait like she was told to.” Emily sniffed again. “It was really quite disconcerting, dashing into taverns and calling out a name for bad weather.” Her eyes widened. “We received the most unsavory replies.”
Blade chewed on Emily’s story. Stormy could have gotten angry enough to leave. But, where would she go?
“Stop!” Jackson’s sudden shout was followed by a thud.
Blade dashed to the foyer. The aged butler sprawled on the polished marble floor clutching an envelope. Through the front door Blade saw a short, fleet-footed man run down the driveway, coattails billowing out behind him.
Blade helped Jackson to a sitting position, looked him over carefully, and eased the letter from his hand. Crude pencil lettering covered the front. ‘MASTERS.’
“I tried to hold him, Master Blade. He shoved me hard.”
“Did he hand this to you?”
“Before he pushed me down. Yessir.”
Blade snapped the envelope’s cheap wax seal and extracted a jagged-edged slip of blue paper.
You want the redhead?
$100,000 in small bills.
When and where soon.
Staring at the crudely-printed letters, Blade tensed with guilt. Stormy had wanted to hunt for Peabody alongside him, but he’d pressured her into accompanying Candy and his mother. He’d been so sure he could accomplish more working alone. He’d never dreamed he was putting her in danger.
His family crowded around.
“What kind of monster puts a price on an innocent girl’s life?” Olivia wrung her hands.
“One hundred thousand dollars is outrageous,” Candy shrilled. “We’re not going to pay it, are we?”
“Not if the police can catch this criminal.” Blade’s father tugged the ransom demand from Blade’s grip and slid it back into the envelope. “I’m going to see Commissioner Murdock.”
Blade chased his father outside. He refused to stand down and wait for the long-time police commissioner to follow protocol. Stormy could be hurt. She surely was scared out of her wits. Every minute that ticked by was sixty seconds wasted. “I’m going to look for Stormy.”
“I’m going with you.” Candy scurried down the front steps.
“Why?” Blade demanded. “You don’t know where she went or why she left.”
“If we hurry, Fifi’s might still be open.” She secured the ties of her velvet cloak. “We’ll take Jared’s carriage. He’ll watch the children.”
Blade looked back. Jared stood in the doorway, his face blazing with the damn-you-to-hell expression that Blade remembered vividly from their childhood tussles.
He felt a fresh stab of pity for his brother. Candy was still bossy, manipulative, and emasculating. He didn’t relish the idea of rubbing elbows with her all the way downtown, and he didn’t trust her any further than he could spit, but riding together, he’d grill her about what had happened at Fifi’s without his brother’s interference.
Stormy was his mate. His one and only. He’d dance with a tornado if it helped him to find her. He climbed in Jared’s carriage and picked up the reins. “Let’s go.”
~ ~ ~
“How many times do I have to repeat myself, Blade?” Candy made sure she sounded indignant. After all, she was putting herself out to help him search for his country bumpkin fiancée, and he was thanking her badly by grilling her like a police detective.
“I remembered I’d left a brooch at the jeweler. Jared gave it to me on our first anniversary. You’ve not seen it, but there’s a big, one-of-a-kind pearl in the center and the setting was loose.”
She stuck smoothly to the chronology Emily had recited at Sam and Olivia’s dinner table. Eager and gullible, Emily was a perfect alibi.
The carriage rounded a dockside corner at a fast clip. Taking advantage, Candy swayed more than necessary against Blade and reached for his thigh. When they were lovers, a squeeze had always distracted his train of thought.
None too gently, he pushed off her hand. “Is that the jeweler?”
“Yes.” She pouted. “And, there’s Fifi’s.”
An iron security gate barred the storefront. The clerk had closed up early, as she’d been paid to do. Now, she was on a train bound for Denver.
Blade set the brake and leaped from the carriage. Sprinting diagonally across the shadowy street, he passed a skinny streetwalker slouched against a broken streetlamp and tugged ineffectively on the heavy padlock until his shoulders slumped. He’d get no answers there until morning.
A hansom pulled up to the Crazy Lady, two doors down. A man staggered out and entered the saloon. Raucous laughter and tinny notes from an out-of-tune piano spilled out onto the street.
Like a coon dog catching a scent, Blade’s head jerked up. He waved for Candy to join him.
She shook her head. Peabody didn’t think anyone would recognize her, dressed in her fine clothes and jewels, but she’d deliberately sent Emily inside earlier, just in case.
“Listen, sugar,” she called. “We’re not going to learn anything until tomorrow morning. You keep the carriage, and I’ll hire that hansom to take me home. Meet you here at eleven, when the store opens. All right?”
Blade narrowed his eyes and finally nodded. He walked into the saloon.
Candy gave the hansom driver the address of the rooming house, sat back on the torn leather seat, and savored her success. Blade didn’t suspect her at all. In fact, he’d provided her with a perfect excuse to leave his parents’ home before the police arrived to question her, a primary witness.
The plan she’d devised was unfolding perfectly except for one thing. Peabody had increased the demand ten-fold. After making sure Stormy was chained in the attic, she’d order him to send the original ransom note. If he objected, she’d threaten to tip off the police.
She’d be a hero. His word against hers. Front page news.
Peabody would do her bidding, or he’d rot in prison.