by Rue Allyn
“Says you,” whined the judge. “But I got my resources.” He pushed the glass toward Dutch.
Dutch stared at him.
“Anyhow, like I told you at Duval’s place, I helped Trey get work driving a wagon load of women to Sacramento. Boy shoulda show’d up there a couple days after you won the bidding on Miss Boston.”
Dutch wondered if the bottle would break, he gripped it that hard. “You put Trey in danger from the Chinaman. That’s old information.”
“I gave him what he wanted.”
“He’s only nineteen.” Dutch tried to keep his voice from rising with very little success.
“You were a lot younger when you started working for Duval.”
“You think I wanted to do dirty work for whores and thieves? I did what I had to do.”
“You liked the money just fine.”
“The first chance I had, I got out and took Trey with me. I swore he’d never have to whore like I did.”
“He ain’t sellin’ himself.”
Dutch snorted. “Isn’t he? Does Trey know who’s paying him?”
Jem looked down at the empty glass. “Gimme a drink.”
“Where is Trey?”
The judge licked his lips. “I told you. He was drivin’ a wagon to Sacramento.”
“I know that. He was driving for the Chinaman. Tell me something I don’t know. Tell me where Trey is.”
The older man swallowed and mumbled something.
Dutch couldn’t believe what he’d heard. “Say that so we can both hear it.”
“You’re right. Trey was driving for the Chinaman, and the Chinaman has him. Has since three nights after you bought little Miss Boston.”
So long? Trey could be dead by now. The whisky bottle shattered against the kitchen wall.
The judge cringed.
“I should kill you right now and save Father Conroy’s vigilantes the trouble. You’re still not telling me anything I hadn’t figured for myself.”
“The padre’s got nothin’ on me.”
“No? He knows someone is taking women in and out of San Francisco. When I was trapped into that farce at Duval’s, the committee was watching for that wagonload of women. A wagon Trey was driving.”
The judge looked up. “They didn’t catch ’em. The whole town woulda heard if Conroy and his bunch had criminals in custody or had found that ship where the Chinaman keeps folks he’s mad at or wants to ship out of the country.”
“Maybe. But something happened or you wouldn’t be here. The Chinaman would have paid you off.”
The judge’s gaze slid away.
“What haven’t you told me?”
“Nothin’, I swear. I told you everything. Even confirmed that Trey was on one of the Chinaman’s ships.”
“How did you find out?”
“The Chinaman. He blames me for the loss of his merchandise and sent me a message. Says he wants his girls or his money. Those girls are long gone. I need that money bad, Dutch.”
Trey was still alive. Fear followed relief in quick order. But what kind of shape was he in, and for how long would he survive?
“I’ll just bet you want money. Do you even know which ship Trey is on?”
The judge hung his head. “No.”
“So the Chinaman thinks you double crossed him.”
“I never … ”
“We aren’t going to discuss what kind of a lowdown, lying snake you are.” Dutch refused to waste any more precious time reviewing ancient history or licking old wounds. “We are going to find Trey and get him out of the mess you’ve made. Then you’ll get on a boat for Panama and never come back to San Francisco.”
“You can’t make me do that.”
“You like losing money, Judge. Bet me.”
“You haven’t paid me yet,” the older man whined.
“You think I’ll pay you for putting Trey in danger or worse?”
The judge studied him. “Yeah. You’ll pay me. You got a reputation, son. For always making good on any deal you strike. You struck a deal with me.”
“So what? You wouldn’t hesitate to cheat me. Why shouldn’t I welch on you?”
“’Cause then you’d be just like your old man, and that would stick in your craw so bad you’d choke to death.”
The judge was right. Dutch could lower himself back into the muck he’d spent ten years climbing out of or he could pay the man off.
“Wait here,” he said and abruptly turned on his heel.
Two minutes later Dutch walked back into the kitchen. He dropped a bundle of bills on the table in front of his father. “Get out.”
The judge lifted the bundle. “But that’s only half.”
“Too bad. You’ll get the other half after I get Trey and put you on that boat to Panama.”
The judge stood.
Dutch didn’t move.
The elder Trahern grabbed his hat and scuttled around him to the outer door. “You’ll regret this, son.”
“The only thing I regret is being related to you.”
The judge gave Dutch a long look. “Mebbe so. Long as I get paid, I don’t much care. I’ll be in touch about Trey.” His father put the cash into his coat pocket and left.
Dutch leaned against the kitchen wall. Lord, he was tired. But with Trey in trouble he couldn’t afford to rest. Once Cerise Duval discovered Edith’s trunk missing, the madam would be twice as eager to add to his troubles. How long, he wondered, before her fury descended on Edith, and what could he possibly do to prevent it?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Edith lay awake contemplating the feel of Dutch’s lips on hers, his arms around her, his hard muscles beneath her fingers. Again and again, the entire scene played through her mind. His kisses stirred her mightily. Each time left her yearning for more. She thought Dutch wanted more, too. However, afterward he always seemed angry at her or himself, so Edith wasn’t certain. For that matter she couldn’t be certain if his anger was caused by the kisses, the interruptions or the annulment. Although nothing had interrupted them on the way to Oakland, and he sure hadn’t been angry then. He hadn’t kissed her either, but he’d touched her whenever good manners permitted. He’d asked her to consider not going through with the annulment. She had thought about it, but with independence more possible every day, she could not bring herself to willingly turn control of her life over to anyone.
Nonetheless, those kisses called to her. She couldn’t help but wonder if a little passion wouldn’t help them both. On that thought she’d finally fallen asleep, not waking until the morning was nearly gone.
A series of thumps and two following thunks broke her rest. Abruptly awake, she sat up in time to see Tsung shooing several of her relatives out the bedroom door.
“What the … ” Edith caught sight of the two metal-bound cases in the middle of the room. “The trunks!”
Edith leapt out of bed to the tune of Tsung haranguing her relatives from the top of the stairs. Hands atremble with delight at having her own things, Edith unhooked the remaining latches and threw the trunk’s lid upward.
There on top, still neatly folded, was her blue sateen walking dress, and beneath that her spring cloak in dark navy serge. The clothes weren’t in the first stare of style. Grandfather believed fashion to be sinful, and she’d had no money to replace the plain clothing with more pleasing attire. But the clothes were decent and serviceable and would allow her at long last to get out of borrowed attire.
“Before he leave today, Mista Dutch say he got other trunk and I should bring it to you. Tsung sorry if clumsy relatives wake Missee.”
Disappointment fell on Edith’s heart like a rockslide. Was he trying to avoid her? She couldn’t be certain. Regardless, she had work to do, starting with examining the contents of her trunk to see if anything was missing. “Thank you very much, Tsung. I’m very grateful to your family for helping me to retrieve these.”
“Good-good. I go wash laundry. Mista Dutch be home for dinner tonight. Need cloth for
table. You need help, you call Tsung.” The woman smiled and patted Edith’s shoulder. “You good woman, Missee. Make Mista Dutch have long happy life. Tsang family glad to help. Tsung marry Lijun soon.”
After Tsung left, Edith knelt on the floor carefully lifting items from the trunk until she reached the packet of papers at the bottom.
“Thank heaven,” she murmured to the stillness. She opened the packet and examined the contents. All of Kiera’s letters, a copy of the will, and her identification documents. Everything but the ten one hundred dollar bills she’d intended to use to get her and Kiera home.
I shouldn’t be surprised. Madame Duval was only interested in money. I was foolish to think I could manage her. Still, admitting my responsibility in this situation doesn’t help me solve it. Stealing the money back isn’t an option. Cash would be much more difficult to find and get away with than a trunk. No, I have to consider the money a complete loss. And now Duval knows I’m Kiera’s sister as well as the details of the inheritance. What will the woman make of that? More important, how do I fund my search for Kiera?
Edith inventoried her belongings. The few pieces of jewelry were gone. She regretted the loss for sentimental reasons. The jewelry hadn’t been of extreme value for the same reason that she had only the plainest clothing. The clothing. If Cerise Duval could make money selling the clothes, surely I can as well.
Immediately she set about sorting her belongings. What she intended to keep, Edith placed in her steamer trunk. The items she would sell went into Kiera’s.
• • •
The bell rang as the front door of Adolfo Santiago’s framing shop opened. Short, heavy, and bald, Adolfo hurried from the back room where he worked on an order to assist the new customer. The stylishly dressed woman was heavily veiled. He wasn’t surprised. This area of San Francisco had seen better days, and business had been slow lately. He hoped to have enough money soon to move his shop to a safer district with wealthier patrons. All he needed was one more large commission.
“How may I … ”
The woman lifted her veil onto the crown of her hat.
“Madame Duval. I … I hadn’t expected to see you again.”
She oozed forward. “Really Adolfo? I recall telling you that I would be back, if your information about F. Lyn Whitson did not pan out.”
He backed toward the workroom, wondering if he could escape through his back door into the alley.
“Were you thinking of leaving?” the question whispered from behind him.
Adolfo cast a glance over his shoulder and swallowed, his mouth gone suddenly dry.
The Chinaman sat in a wheeled chair, his four bodyguards lined up behind him and the workroom door behind them.
“N … no, sir. I would not imagine leaving when you require my services.”
“Excellent.” The Chinaman dismissed the framer with a nod and stared at Madame Duval.
She ambled to a nearby chair and seated herself. “Allow me to explain why we are here.”
Adolfo swallowed again. Stepping to the side so he could see both of his guests, his glance swung from the Chinaman to Duval. “You … you’re here together?”
“The photographer, Whitson, has caused both of us considerable trouble and cost. We decided to unite our efforts to find her. However, we are here today on a somewhat different matter.” She extracted a thick roll of greenbacks from her purse.
Adolfo’s eyes went wide at the size of the roll. “How may I help?”
Madame Duval smiled, and she tapped the money roll on the table beside her. “We would like you to take a vacation.”
“Vacaciones?”
“Yes, just a short journey. Say two weeks or so. Go into the countryside, visit with your family.”
“What of my business?”
“The Chinaman and I will watch over your business. You will lose nothing.”
“When would you like me to leave?”
“Now.”
“But I have commissions to complete.”
Duval’s smile became a frown, and her eyelids narrowed. “I told you we would take care of your business.”
“Si, Senora. Please forgive my impertinence. May I get my hat?”
Her smile returned, and she gave a nod.
Adolfo hurried to get his hat and headed for the front door.
“Adolfo.” Duval’s voice stopped him as he put his hand on the latch.
“Si.” His hand shook.
“We’ll need your door keys and the key to your safe box.”
He removed them from his pocket and placed them on the table next to Madame Duval. Then he turned to the door.
“Adolfo.”
Terror shook his hand once more. He had to leave before Duval and the Chinaman changed their minds and killed him for his shop instead of paying him. His hand still on the latch, he shifted to look at her. “Si, senora.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” She waved the roll of bills from side to side.
“Ah, si.” He took the money. “You are most gracious.”
Finally he slipped out the door.
• • •
“Leave us,” the Chinaman ordered his bodyguards.
The four men split; two went to the back room. The other two took up positions near the shop’s front door.
“Madame, will you now explain exactly why we want this miserable shop and why we have paid to rent the building instead of simply taking it?”
Cerise stared at the man who was her nominal partner. They both knew the partnership went only as far as it benefited either of them. “Consider the rental an investment. Santiago has his uses, but he would be much less cooperative without his shop to hold over him. Besides, we need this shop so I can to deliver Whitson’s sister to you as a gift.”
“What would I want with the woman?”
She could not understand how the Chinaman had gained the power he held. While he possessed money and men, he lacked vision. Satisfying his enormous appetite for sex and pain consumed him. Cerise found him distasteful in the extreme, but he was in the best position to help her achieve her goals. She would drop him the minute she no longer had any use for him. Better, she might indulge herself in destroying him and his delusions that he mattered. She smiled at the thought.
“What do you want with any woman?”
A gleam of lust in his eyes was the only expression the Chinaman allowed himself. “How soon can you deliver her?”
“Within two weeks. Sooner if the information I’ve spread about reaches her.”
“Then I will assemble a shipment for Singapore. Do you have any other merchandise you would like me to ship?”
Cerise considered. The Chinaman was the best way to rid herself of whores who became troublesome. “One or two. I will send them to you with a message, once I am certain that Whitson’s sister has fallen into my net.”
“I will take my usual commission.”
“For Whitson’s sister, I am willing to split the take fifty-fifty.”
A blink indicated the Chinaman’s surprise. “You expect so much from her sale?”
“She is quite attractive in her way, nearly as lovely as her sister. Properly prepared, the Alden woman will bring enough to reimburse us both for what her sister cost us.”
“And that pleases you.”
“As I am certain it pleases you.”
“Coin is an empty return for vengeance. What of the photographer?”
“I’m working on that. But be sure to keep all of the items you strip off of her sister. We can use those to gain the photographer’s cooperation once we find her.”
“Perhaps you could arrange to be present when we take the woman. Then you could have the items and the pleasure of seeing her stripped.”
“That would be pleasant.” Cerise smiled again. Maybe the Chinaman had more imagination than she believed. In which case, she’d best watch her back. At this moment he might be planning her destruction just as she contemplated his.
�
� • •
A soft knock sounded on Edith’s bedroom door.
“Come in.” She didn’t look up.
“Missee, you okay?” Tsung came into the room and shut the door then crossed to stand beside Edith. “Lunchtime long past. Mista Dutch home in two hours, need dinner.”
Edith nodded but continued to stare at the photographs on the bed.
“Why you look at pictures of women with no clothes? These not good for respectable lady.”
“I understand, Tsung, but my sister made these pictures.”
“You joking.”
“No. See here on the back.” Edith turned one of the framed photographs and showed Tsung the small tag that read “Photographed by F. Lyn Whitson. Frame courtesy of Santiago Framing.” An address completed the information on the tag.
“Sister’s name Whitson, not Alden?”
“Kiera left Boston several years ago to escape from our grandfather. Before she left, she told me she would use the name F. Lyn Whitson so Grandfather wouldn’t find her. That name led me to look for her in San Francisco.
“Tsung not understand why sister run away from family. Family more precious than gold. Grandfathers wise, share wisdom, help granddaughters.”
Edith put her arm around Tsung’s shoulders. “I only wish our grandfather was like that. I can’t explain why he isn’t. I can only say that he is a very cruel and selfish man.”
Tsung shook her head. “You come to San Francisco to find sister?”
How could Edith explain the absurd terms of Grandfather’s will and what she must do to overturn them? The idea of conceiving a child just to inherit and avoid marriage was cold-hearted in the extreme and absurd when she was already wed. Tsung was trustworthy, but with her strong feelings about family, Edith feared that Tsung would take matters into her own hands. The woman was nothing if not decisive and determined. Look at what happened when Tsung decided to help retrieve the trunks. She’d also been pushing Edith and Dutch together at every opportunity. Edith hadn’t minded because being intimate with Dutch would give her lasting memories of an unforgettable man and his place in her life.
