The hotel faced C Street. Burke guided Lexie to the right. “We still have a couple hours of light. He won’t have hidden Helen on such busy street, though. The brothels and the lowlife saloons are all below E Street, so we should go there while the sun’s shining, then double back and walk up B Street.”
“All right.” Lexie looked in the window of the millinery shop they passed. “Is there anything in particular I should be looking for? Some sort of indication he would leave behind? I know that sounds silly, but I haven’t pursued a lot of villains in my day.”
“He’s likely not too interested in ladies’ bonnets.”
Lexie smacked his side playfully.
Burke laughed, then his expression sobered. “Tracking villains takes patience and a system—actually, you’d probably be good at it. First you make a plan, and then you stick to it unless, of course, you don’t. But even if you’re drawn off course, you simply redraw your plan accordingly. After a while, you’ll start noticing a pattern and all you have to do is wait for him to deviate from that pattern and you’ve got him.”
By then they’d passed Union Street and were headed for Taylor Street. They hadn’t seen any sign of Wardell, but Burke hadn’t expected to—not until they got to the rougher part of town. “We’ll turn left on Taylor, then walk down the hill. The farther down we go, the seedier it gets.”
By the time they got to G Street, Burke heard the rapid clumping of boots coming up behind them.
“Patrick!”
Burke shoved Lexie aside to safety, then turned and clocked the fellow on the jaw. The man dropped like a rock, and didn’t bounce back up to fight, so Burke stepped back. Lexie had her derringer out, ready to blast him.
The man rubbed his chin. “What did you do that for?”
“Because I’m tired of people calling me Patrick. What do you have against him?”
“Nothing, he’s my friend.” He sat up. “You sure look like him—are you his brother?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“If I stand up, are you going to hit me again?”
Burke lent his hand to help the man up. “Nope.”
“There’s a man looking for Patrick. Name’s Dayton Wardell. Know him?”
“I reckon I do. Where can I find him?”
“He didn’t say, but he’s not too concerned for Patrick’s good health. Everyone in town knows about it.”
Burke offered his hand to shake. “Name’s Burke O’Shaughnessy. You?”
“Kirstein. Maynard Kirstein.” He pointed to a saloon nearby. “Buy you a drink?”
“No, I have a lady with me. Just tell me what you know.”
“Wardell’s flashing money around and offering to sell his woman to anyone who’ll bring Patrick to him, but he has to be alive on account of Wardell wants him to sign some papers.”
“Where did you see Wardell last?”
“He was taking his lightskirt to a play at the opera house. She’s a brassy bitch, that one. Name’s Velma.”
Lexie gasped. “ Velma’s a... a... She’s a...”
Burke took her hand. “Lexie-girl, I have no doubt that everyone knew that but you and Helen.”
Her eyebrows were still raised in surprise, but then she shrugged. “I’ve learned a lot of things this past week, but that’s neither here nor there.” To Kirstein she said, “When did you see them last?”
“About an hour ago.”
“In that case, I have an idea.” She took Burke’s arm. “Let’s go to the opera.”
“You have a date.” He nodded at Kirstein. “Thanks. We’re staying at the Silver Queen if you need us.”
They headed back up the hill toward C Street, and both were winded by the time they got to the hotel. It was nearing eight o’clock but Burke thought Lexie might like to change clothes again, although she looked fine—more than fine.
“Piper’s Opera House is just around the corner on B Street and Union. Do you want to go there now or would you rather go up to your room first?”
“I’m not dressed for the opera but I don’t think we should take the time for me to change, so let’s go directly.”
Burke bought tickets for aisle seats not far from the stage.
“We don’t want to get stuck in the middle of the row and not be able to get out in a hurry,” he explained.
“I didn’t think the tickets would be so expensive.” Lexie took the ledger from her handbag and recorded the transaction.
“If we had the cheap seats, the ushers wouldn’t let us into this section to look for him.”
During intermission, Lexie had to use the facilities, which were near the saloon beneath the opera house. Burke took her as far as he dared, then while he waited, kept an eye on the milling crowd. No sign of Wardell or Velma.
After a few minutes, Lexie showed up, wide-eyed and grinning. “I heard piano music!”
He sent her a sidelong glance. “So?”
“So it was ‘She Does The Fandango All Over The Place.’”
“And?”
She stood tip-toed and rocked back, as if she couldn’t stand to stay still. “And at the end, there was this little ta-da, ta-da.”
He didn’t say anything, just studied her for some sort of clue as to why this would signify.
“Helen made that up, Burke. It was Helen playing that piece. She’s in this opera house somewhere, and it’s near the saloon.”
Chapter 16
Lexie hoped Helen would keep playing so they could hone in on her. “Do you hear the music?”
Burke cupped his ear, then nodded. “Faintly.”
She wanted to run to every room, but knew she had to appear calm and inconspicuous. “Let’s follow the sound.”
“First, I’ll have one of the ushers run a message over to Patrick. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
She agreed, and she didn’t even say anything when he tipped the usher a hundred dollars. Maybe she had the old Burke back.
Intermission was nearly over and soon the band would start playing again, which would drown out the barely audible melody.
“Does this building have a basement?” she asked Burke.
“A daylight basement, I suspect. It’s built on a hill, so I’d imagine they dug in a ways.”
“Because the piano sounds muffled as if it came from an acoustically dead room.”
“I don’t know what that means, but if you think she’s in one of the basement rooms, we’ll look there. My guess is they’d put her somewhere behind the saloon because it’s noisy and no one would hear if she put up a fuss.”
Lexie could hardly bear to think what that horrible man had done to her sister. “But she must be all right. She’s playing, and you can’t do that with serious injuries.” Lexie knew she’d said it more for herself than for Burke.
He studied the room, “You stay here and wait for my brother. I’ll head downstairs to look for her. Show him where I’ve gone.”
“Do you have a pistol? Do you want mine?”
“I’m prepared, Lexie-girl.”
“Then here’s a kiss for good luck.” And right there in the opera house, amidst the crowd, she kissed him smack dab on the lips, not caring who saw or what they thought. “Be safe.”
He sent her a questioning look, but his smile was back, and the old Burke had resurfaced. All would be right with the world.
Not two minutes after he left—but it seemed like two hours—Patrick showed up, panting, beads of sweat dotting his brow.
“What’s going on? Did you find Helen?”
“I’m glad you’re here. Burke set off to look for her.” She told him about the piano music, then led him in the direction Burke had gone.
“You stay here, with the crowd. The show’s about to start so go back to your seat so we know where you are.”
“Patrick O’Shaughnessy, if you think for one moment I’m going to do that, then you’re as blockheaded as your brother!” She patted the derringer between her breasts. “I’m armed and dangerous
.”
He grinned, so much like his brother she had to laugh. A nervous laugh, because truth be told, she was scared to death. But she was going. Wardell had her sister and Lexie wanted her back, and the unborn child, too.
“When are you marrying my sister?”
“As soon as she’ll have me. Let’s go.”
The saloon was crammed full of men, most of whom likely stayed at the bar while their wives watched the show, then patting themselves for showing their wives a good time. Lexie would never have a man who abandoned her at any opportunity, and couldn’t imagine Burke ever doing that to her.
“Can you hear any piano music?” Patrick asked.
“No, not since the show started, and besides, the men are rowdy in the saloon—but her music was quite faint so I’m not surprised. It doesn’t mean she’s not playing—she’d play all night if Wardell lets her.”
Lexie couldn’t see Burke in the saloon. “Your brother said he’d check the rooms behind the saloon first, so we should go there.”
“If I take you through the saloon, we’ll attract all kinds of attention.”
She had to concede he had a point there. “Maybe we can get in from an outside door?”
Patrick thought a minute. “We’ll try, but if there isn’t one, you have to promise to go back to your seat until the show’s over. Burke would fillet me like a big-mouth bass if I let anything happen to you.”
“He said that?”
Patrick rolled his eyes. “He didn’t need to.”
Darkness had fallen and the gaslight didn’t reach the boardwalk outside. Lexie had never been afraid of the dark but she was scared of this dark. Evil men truly did lurk. Neither Patrick nor she said a word—she probably couldn’t if she tried for the lump in her throat.
A door opened and light poured out. So did a lively piano lilt, distinctly her sister’s composition. Patrick threw his arm across Lexie’s breast and she thudded flat against the building. A man stepped out and skulked into the darkness.
“Where’d he go?” she whispered.
Patrick didn’t answer, just put his finger against her lips to shush her. A few minutes later, the man came back. She couldn’t get a good look at him, but he didn’t move like Dayton Wardell, which meant he had at least one accomplice other than Velma. Three against three—even odds. So far.
Next thing she knew, a rope looped around her, pinned her arms to her sides, and jerked her to the ground. She hit so hard, all her breath left her, and she fought the grayness just like she had with Toulson. Keep aware, she told herself.
Forcing her eyes open, she saw Patrick dragged across the dirt and rocks into the building, and she’d likely be next.
“Hey there, girlie.” Bile rose in her throat. Toulson. “We have some unfinished business. Seems like your boy-o can’t help you now.”
“Go away!” She felt stupid, but that’s all she could think of to say, immobilized by the rope, fear, and anger. They had Burke, too? Her stomach roiled.
“Oh, I’m not going away anytime soon, but you are, just as soon as I’m done with you.” He chuckled, his foul whiskey breath hanging on her face. “And I know about that little pea-shooter you have tucked between your breasties.”
She finally got a breath. Her only hope was to keep him talking until she could wiggle loose enough to reach her derringer. She’d have to get it out and shoot all in one motion, or he’d have the advantage again.
“At least don’t cut off my corset. They’re expensive.”
“I tell you what. We’ve got a little show going on down at the K Street bar. If you put on a good enough dance for us, I’ll let you live. You might wish you were dead, but we’ll leave you alive.”
“What about Helen?”
“She’s back there in one of the dressing rooms.” He laughed, low and evil. “Once our fellows get done with her, we’ll take the both of you down to K Street.
Lexie thought she’d never know more fear than when Toulson had attacked her on the train, but her sister’s peril was even worse.
“One look at what they’re doing to her, and Patrick will sign that mine away, pronto. Me ‘n Wardell will own that mine free and clear once the sale goes through.”
“Sale?”
“Yep, the silent partner will deed it over at midnight.”
Lexie didn’t care about the blasted mine—she’d give it away. Why did they want it so much? It barely broke even, and she’d hired one of the best superintendents in the state.
“How do you know that? Who is he?”
Toulson shrugged. “That’s Wardell’s problem. We’re goin’ in now.” He tugged at the rope and dragged her a few feet over dirt, rocks, and stickers. “You can walk with my pistol in your back, or I can drag you. Choose.”
“I’ll walk,” she groaned.
“Get a move on, then.” Toulson yanked on the rope, making it even harder for Lexie to get to her feet, but she knew she had to stand, not let blinding fear interfere with her logic, had to get to her feet—the more mobile she was, the more likely she could get away from this monster.
She cursed her corset, which prevented her from bending to catch her balance, and Toulson kept the rope taut, cutting into her arms and holding them to her sides. She managed to get her feet under herself, but just as she did, Toulson yanked on the rope again, making her fall back on her derriere.
Hate, anger, fear—all muddied her logic, but she vowed to fight to the end. On her next attempt, she jumped up as quickly as she could so he didn’t have a chance to trip her before she managed to get her balance. When he did yank on the rope she stumbled a little but managed to stay upright.
“I guess we’ll go in and have some real fun.” He shoved her with a foot on her backside, and this time, he left her there on the floor. “I only hope your boy-o can get a good look at you when we’re done.”
Breathing hard, Lexie stayed low, and focused on a reason for living. Burke. Instead of allowing anger to cloud her judgment, she’d concentrate on the one person who’d given her the strength to follow her own dreams.
He’d make some magic, she just knew it. Both she and Patrick were tied up and battered—neither could rescue Helen under the circumstances, and they didn’t even know which room held her prisoner, or how many men guarded her. More worrisome, Lexie no longer heard Helen’s piano music, and her sister never quit playing unless forced to.
Mirrors lined the hallway to the opera house dressing rooms and backstage storage, and all the doorways sported mirrors as well. They reflected what was happening in other rooms, even if only a little bit.
Yes! Lexie breathed a sigh of relief when she glimpsed Dayton Wardell shove a blindfolded Helen into the hall. At least she was alive. But because of the mirrors, Lexie wasn’t sure whether her sister had come out from the right side dressing room or from the room on the left. Nor could she determine which way they were headed.
Just inside the door to another room, Lexie could see Patrick, who crouched with his hands tied behind his back, while a man punched him repeatedly in the midsection. She didn’t know which Patrick she saw—the real one, or the ones in the mirrors. It didn’t matter, because after taking several punches, Patrick kicked his attacker in the jaw and used the rope that had bound his hands to garrote the villain, who slumped to the floor.
She was grateful he’d learned to untie himself—that dubious skill could very well save their lives.
A crash and a shot sounded from upstairs back of the stage where the Valkyries fought their final battle. As the Valkyries swooped down to pick up their chosen fallen warriors, the mirrors showed Burke to the right—and to the left, in front of her, and behind her. Four Burkes.
Her spirits lifted as she glanced from one mirror to the next, but it was impossible to keep track of him. “The riverboat hustle,” he called to his brother.
Patrick tapped his toe three times and when Burke nodded, he leapt across the hall. The two O’Shaughnessys kept jumping from mirror to mirror. Toulson t
ugged violently on the rope, nearly toppling Lexie, and firing at the mirrors, shattering them one by one as the music soared in the background, the Valkyries making their way to Valhalla. Then she heard another shot, this one coming from down the hall. Toulson stared at the hole in his shoulder, blood seeping out.
Lexie hit the floor, figuring more gunfire was imminent. She wrenched herself loose from the rope, reached inside her corset for the derringer. Toulson kicked her. She fell back, and all she could see was the bulge in his pants. She aimed and shot.
Toulson screamed as he dropped to the floor writhing, howling like a wounded coyote, holding his hands over his privates. Lexie wasted no time getting to her knees and appropriating his pistol and knife.
She heard a vicious screech, and from out of nowhere Velma attacked Lexie, grabbing her arms and trying to tie her up again, while another of Wardell’s henchmen charged into the hallway. “You’re gonna pay for what you did to him!” Velma howled.
Lexie wrested out of the other woman’s grasp and shoved at her. “I trusted you to take care of my sister and this is what you do?” In response, Velma grabbed her by her throat, screaming again.
Shots rang out overhead while Lexie slapped Velma, who knocked her down and followed her. Lexie fended her off, hitting her former housekeeper with her fists as they rolled along the hall way floor. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the two of them bouncing from mirror to mirror.
Velma didn’t notice, her eyes crazed and spittle flying from her mouth. “It will be me in the pretty white house from now on. You’ll be pushing up daisies—worm food.”
“Aren’t we clever?” Lexie gritted out, as she struggled to push away the other woman. She couldn’t be sure if Toulson’s pistol was loaded but she knew the knife was sharp. With a flick of her wrist, she unsheathed it and tried to keep it in front of her. She wrestled Velma onto her back intending to put the knife to Velma’s throat. Instead, Velma rolled over onto the blade. She screamed.
Meanwhile, the Valkyries flew about on stage as the music rose and rose and rose, the sheet metal vibrating and the stage manager shooting blanks, creating thunder amidst the throes of battle.
9 Ways to Fall in Love Page 184
