Jessie’s nose wrinkled and he flicked his gaze to Grace. A knife of sharp anger flashed through him. “So we should miss an opportunity to get the skinny on the Darksome Gunman because you want to get your cooch scratched?”
“Jessie!” Grace snapped. Her lips twisted in anger and she took a step toward him. Jessie shrugged and he continued to rock in the rocker. Kaga stood up and moved between them. He whined and stared up at Grace. She trembled with anger. Kaga nudged her until she looked down into his eyes. After a moment she slumped back against the railing.
“Alright. We go tonight but after Kaga’s changed. I don’t want him changing here and being stuck in the house without us. That clear?”
Jessie smiled and said, “As water.”
Grace patted Kaga’s shoulder and brushed past him into the house. Tokota followed with a curious look thrown Jessie’s way. Kaga turned his yellow eyes on Jessie. Jessie rocked nonchalantly until Kaga’s persistent gaze got to him. That hot knife of rage cut him again, and he leaped out of the chair and kicked it with his boot. “Quit it, would you? It’s only true after all. She’d have the whole world come to a stop when the moon’s full just to get her jolly time. And it angers up the blood.”
Kaga still didn’t lower his gaze. Jessie screwed up his face and shoved past the wolf. Kaga padded inside behind Jessie before the front door slammed closed.
Jessie skulked along the dark streets of Temerity, shooting daggers at the tall man beside him, who walked with an easy grace and wore the fine woolen trousers and jacket of a dead man. Edna Spelts had been only too happy to outfit Kaga. She’d stared up into his dark eyes and fingered his silky black hair as she’d helped him into Mr. Spelts’ clothing. Kaga was a good deal broader across the chest than Mr. Spelts had been, so a shirt was out of the question. He wore Mr. Spelts’ jacket unbuttoned over his sculpted chest and shoulders.
Beside him strode Grace dressed in her usual cowboy duds. Unlike most women who walked with their sweetheart, Grace didn’t slip her arm through Kaga’s. She kept her hands by her sides, ready to draw Justice and Mercy at the first sign of trouble. She stared ahead with an unflinching gaze and trod at an even pace. On her left came Tokota. He walked as smoothly as Kaga in his cowboy leathers and vest, yet his shoulders hunched as though carrying a weighty burden.
They moved quickly but silently through the semi-darkness of late dusk. Jessie bit his tongue to keep from humming the persistent melody that danced through his head, but at least the balmy evening air helped to chase the cobwebs from his head; cobwebs that had dulled his thinking in the past few hours. He even felt alert enough to notice an unusual tension in the air.
Windows were lit with lanterns, and a few ladies scurried through the night. A nearby saloon blazed with light and leaked the tinkle of a piano but was oddly devoid of laughter. It was as though the sedate pall that hung over the town by day had continued into the night. Unusual in a town of this size.
A shrill shriek caught their attention. Jessie frowned and hesitated as his eyes darted in the darkness. Kaga sniffed the air as he revolved on the spot. The others noticed his nasal assessment and rounded to his side.
“What is it?” Grace asked. She fingered Justice at her side.
Kaga frowned. “Down there. Behind the row of buildings.”
Jessie peered down the narrow alley to the trench-run behind the general store and the saloon. A sliver of light spilled from the saloon doors and illuminated the darkness. It was enough light for him to make out two figures in a tangled embrace. He chewed his lip and said, “Probably just a shake and her johnny... We should keep moving.”
Kaga frowned. “Probably.” He set off toward the alley without another word.
Grace shrugged and followed him. Tokota made no sound but trudged after Grace.
“Hey? Ain’t we going to the cathouse?” Jessie called. He watched Kaga disappear into the shadows of the alley. Grace and Tokota were swallowed up a moment later.
Jessie cussed foully beneath his breath. The delay was beginning to chafe him. They needed—he needed—to get to the Affamee. Irrational anger surged through him, but he managed to swallow it and head into the alley after his companions. He touched his temples with a grimace as the beat of the melody grew louder and more frenetic in his head.
As he approached, Jessie heard raised voices.
“...can’t believe you’d do this to me on our bridal tour! Daddy was right when he said you were a skeezick, George Richmond!”
Jessie pushed in front of Kaga, Grace, and Tokota, and saw the dandy, George Richmond, marching along the back streets with his new wife clinging onto his arm. He stomped through all manner of mud and muck, heedless of his fine pants, and apparently unconcerned with Minnie, who was doing her darnedest to stop him. There was a crazed glint in his eyes that Jessie recognized; it mirrored the tumult in his head, the pounding pulse that thrummed like Cajun dance music.
“If you go to that ill-cursed house of sin again, I’ll clamor to have this marriage annulled!”
“Fine!” Richmond shouted and yanked his arm out of Minnie’s grip. “Go back to your daddy in Pennsylvania! Just get shy of me, woman!”
Minnie’s tear-stained face crumpled, and she threw herself at Richmond. “Oh, George! You don’t mean it! You’re just addled is all!”
Richmond’s face flushed and his lips turned into an ugly sneer. “I said, get off me!” He slapped Minnie across the face. She cried and dropped to the muddy ground.
Grace swore and strode forward at the same time Kaga growled and stepped into the light.
Richmond glared as they emerged from the shadows. “This don’t concern you.”
Kaga crossed the muddy trench and helped Minnie to her feet. She swooned, and he slipped one arm behind her knees and swept her into his arms.
Grace strode through the muck to face George Richmond. “What’re you doing, Richmond?”
Richmond raked a hand through his hair. “I said, it’s of no concern to you.”
“See, it became my concern when I saw you beating your woman, Richmond,” Grace said.
Richmond snorted and spun on his heel. He found himself face to face with Tokota. The native’s face was grim, and his arms were crossed. There would be no slinking away for George Richmond. Richmond hissed and spun back to Grace. His gaze swept over Kaga, who cradled his sobbing wife, and the sneer returned to his lips. “Bloody woman wouldn’t let me do what a man’s gotta do.”
“And what’s that? Stick your beef-whistle in some slattern’s coney while you’re on your bridal tour? Can you see why she might have taken issue with your choice of activities?”
Richmond spat at Grace’s feet. “What are you? The marriage constabulary?”
Grace shrugged. “Just someone who don’t like vermin.” She took two rapid steps and delivered a solid right hook to Richmond’s face. As he reeled, she jabbed him in the stomach for good measure. Richmond went down howling as Grace stood over him and glowered. Richmond moaned through a broken nose.
“Don’t you ever spit at me again,” she growled. “And don’t you ever take to a woman with your hands again neither. Now, you spend the night out here in the filth where you belong and think on what you done. In the morning you make your way back to the bunkhouse and if—if—Minnie wants you, you can beg her forgiveness. Got it?”
When Richmond didn’t answer, Grace slid her boot between his ribs and poked. “Got it?”
“Yes!”
Grace raised her eyes to Tokota. A tiny smile played on his lips. She turned and wandered back to Kaga, and as she moved, she gazed past him and frowned as she spied Jessie leaning against the general store. As she approached, Jessie pushed off the wall, and the small group left the back trenches to George Richmond and his misery.
When they reached the main street with its soft glowing kerosene lamps, Kaga set Minnie on her feet. She tottered for a moment but pushed Kaga’s hands away as he moved to steady her. Grace raised an eyebrow and glanced at Ka
ga but otherwise said nothing. Kaga gently pulled Minnie’s face up to the light. A red mark marred her peaches-and-cream skin.
“What happened?” Kaga asked softly.
Minnie blinked and pulled her face from Kaga’s hands. “After supper, he said he was going back to that devil’s house. Back to it! He said, ‘That’s right. I been there this afternoon and I can’t rightly get enough.’ How could he do this to me?”
Minnie pressed her hands against her face and wailed. It was a loud, high-pitched, whining cry. Kaga winced and looked over her head at Grace. Grace sighed and stepped forward. She grabbed Minnie’s upper arm and pulled her hand from her face. Minnie flinched and whimpered at Grace’s forceful touch.
“That’s enough now. You need to get on back to Mrs. Spelts’ place and have her take a look at that licking. Don’t know what to tell you about George except he’s a man and they all get a bit queer in the head now and then. After a lacing and a night in the mud, you can believe he’s gonna be trite tomorrow.”
Minnie sniffed miserably and stammered, “Can...can you take me home?”
Grace snorted. “You hard of hearing, woman? It’ll take you all of five strides to get back to Mrs. Spelts. Now toughen up and get!”
Grace gave Minnie a little shove and sent her tottering. Minnie turned and gave them one final tear-soaked gaze before she fled down the street in her mud-stained dress.
Grace watched her go and shook her head. “What the Hell was that all about?”
A rude snort drew their attention, and they glanced at Jessie as he strode into the light. “If you’re done busting heads and saving every damsel in distress, can we get moving?”
Grace frowned. “Jessie I couldn’t help but notice you wasn’t too keen to row up old George Richmond. I’d a thought with them morals and principles you moan on about, you’d be all over it.”
Jessie shrugged. His eyes narrowed. “Not everybody is a sinner just cause Grace Dyer decrees it so.”
Grace stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that we spend so much time judging folk on your say-so alone. Who made you the hangman anyway?”
Grace started forward but Kaga slipped his hand around her arm and held her back.
“You saying it’s alright for George Richmond to beat his wife? To go to some mauk on his bridal tour? That what you’re saying, Jessie Beck?”
Jessie flicked his tongue over his teeth and walked up to Grace. A little thrill fluttered in his chest at the confused anger in her eyes. The Cajun drumming in his head drowned out the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. “Might be I am. Might be I’m just tired of the almighty Grace Dyer pushing everybody around.”
Grace strained against Kaga, but he held her in a strong grip.
“Leave it, Hanhepi wi. Leave it.” Kaga’s gentle voice visibly softened Grace’s agitated state.
Jessie’s lip hitched as he leaned in to Grace. “Might be somebody ought to teach Grace Dyer her place too.”
Without waiting to see Grace’s explosive reaction or Kaga’s sad eyes, Jessie spun on his heel and strode down the street without a backward glance.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
By night, La Chatte Affamee had taken on a new atmosphere. The place positively hummed with energy. As the quartet approached, they were awash with lively music, intoxicating fragrances, and a hive of activity. Men surrounded the lilac building. They perched against the rail, lounged on the steps, or smoked in the street. Each fellow babbled animatedly about the pleasures he’d received inside or drooled over who he was going to buy next. Grace and her group scored a few curious glances from the men, but none stopped their vulgar dialogue long enough to wish the quartet a good evening.
Jessie strode through the open double doors and was hit full force by the overwhelming flavor of the brothel. The pounding in his temples finally gave way and merged with the frantic beat of the music being piped out of the phonograph. Jessie broke into a large smile as he gazed around. The place was stuffed with people, more people than Jessie had ever seen in one place before. Scores of men stood, sat, or lounged. They drank and smoked, laughed and cussed. Through the smoke-haze, Jessie saw the odd shapely leg or arching neck of one of the girls of La Chatte Affamee. Someone pushed past him, and a drink was pressed into his hand. He grinned and took a quick swig. It burned his throat and warmed his stomach.
“Sakes alive. Must be every damned man in town in here,” Grace muttered.
Jessie frowned as he heard her voice. He’d forgotten she stood behind him. The lively Cajun music called to him and he swayed in time to the melody.
Grace squeezed up beside him and frowned. She snatched the glass of bourbon from his hand. “We didn’t come here to drink and dance, Jessie. Keep your eyes peeled. Gotta find someone to jaw.”
“Perhaps I can be of assistance?”
Jessie didn’t need to turn to know who spoke. Her sultry accent wafted to him on a cloud of spicy perfume, sending him reeling. He blushed as he turned to the madame of La Chatte Affamee. She was even more alluring tonight than she had been earlier. A corset pushed up her bosom, and her coffee-and-cream skin invited a gentle caress. Her green-brown eyes were framed by long dark lashes, and a languid smile danced at the corners of her rosebud lips.
“I am Madame Ruby Cherie Lefeuvre. Welcome to La Chatte Affamee.” Her words were warm and succulent.
Jessie’s face blazed as he looked at Ruby. Memories of his afternoon with Mozelle washed over him, and he struggled to breathe.
Grace nodded to Ruby, and Kaga watched her with his calm dark eyes. Tokota stood unmoving in the hive of carnality; only his gaze roved as he took in the measure of the place.
“You run this place?” Grace asked.
“I do, and I make it my duty to please each and every customer who comes in my doors. There’s a short wait for girls tonight, but if you want a room for the four of you to play, I can arrange something.”
Grace’s brows dipped into a frown. Jessie’s blush deepened. Tokota and Kaga exchanged a glance.
“Uh, no. We ain’t here for...that,” Grace mumbled.
A look of consternation touched Ruby’s face for a brief moment before clearing. “My apologies. I assumed you were a private nymph du prairie bought by these men for the night. Then, it is girls you’re here for?”
Jessie glanced at Grace then quickly looked away. As he’d expected, she fumed at the assumption she was a whore who’d been bought for a four-way tryst. He bit the inside of his cheek to stifle his laughter and to keep the image of a four-way tryst with Grace, Kaga, and Tokota from his mind.
“Now look-see, we ain’t here to piroot, alright? Just want some skinny.” Grace’s voice was loud and drew the attention of a few nearby patrons. Tokota and Kaga eyeballed away any would-be interventionist as Grace glared at the madame.
Ruby’s face lost all trace of emotion and she became like marble as she met Grace’s stare. They held each other’s gaze for a long moment until Ruby’s green eyes flickered, darted left and right, and then lowered behind her long lashes.
Grace took her silence as acquiescence and spoke, “I want know if you or your girls ever heard talk about a longrider all dressed in black. Tall dude, mean-tempered. Might have come in with a silver equalizer or big-fifty. Might have stabled a queer white horse. Know anything about that?”
Ruby raised her eyes slowly. Jessie’s brow creased as he watched the beautiful madame. Though she held herself regally there was something in her pose that reeked of tension. Despite her golden, luminous complexion, he sensed the blood had drained from her face. And there was something hiding behind her serene and languid eyes...something indefinably elusive.
“My customers come to La Chatte Affamee to have every pleasure met and fulfilled...discreetly. I do not discuss my customers.” Her voice was quiet. Cold.
Grace sniffed and licked her lips. “I ain’t asking to know if he spent a dollar in here on bug-juice or coney. I’m asking if you hea
rd of such a dude ’round here?”
Ruby didn’t respond. Her emerald gaze drifted to Jessie. He studied her eyes to try to recognize what was lurking within their depths. She gave an almost imperceptible head shake before turning back to Grace. “I’ve never heard of such a man.”
Grace’s eyes narrowed. “Sure now?”
“My, my, my! What has waltzed into our fine establishment?” A soft, purring voice, thick with a Cajun accent, broke the tension between Grace and Ruby. All eyes turned to the newcomer, and Jessie’s unease piqued as he recognized the lithe Mozelle as she sidled up to Ruby. The blond woman brushed Ruby’s elbow in a strange, almost possessive caress as she positioned herself before Grace and Kaga. At Ruby’s other side, another of the girls appeared, a striking redhead with a bubbly smile on her lips, her wide eyes fixed on Tokota.
Ruby returned Mozelle’s gentle caress. “Weary newcomers to our little establishment, bebette. I hope you and dear Viola here can entertain them?”
Grace frowned and said, “We ain’t done jawing yet—”
Ruby held up a slender hand and batted her eyelashes, “Alas I have other important matters to attend to. Please, my dears, you are in good hands here. Enjoy yourselves.”
Ruby withdrew from Mozelle’s grasp and Jessie couldn’t help but notice pale fingermarks on her arm. He started to speak, but Ruby melted away into the crowd without a parting glance.
Grace shot a quick look at Kaga, then to Jessie. He shrugged and tried to avoid Mozelle’s gaze. He knew if he looked into her lovely eyes he’d flash back to this afternoon, when he’d looked into her eyes as she lay beneath him...
Jessie choked and coughed loudly.
Grace eyed the two whores. She waved at the pulse of bodies heaving inside the brothel. “Looks like every fella in town’s in here tonight.”
Mozelle shrugged, her gaze flicking between Grace and Jessie.
“It seems you do good business,” Kaga said quietly.
Mozelle turned her heavy-lidded eyes on the tall native and a seductive smile slid to her lips. She moved closer to him without seeming to move at all. Grace stiffened as Mozelle all but rubbed her breasts against Kaga’s chest.
Guns of Perdition Page 15
