A hush descended. Michael asked, "What does that mean for us?"
Chance replied, "It means the fish house will be closed until the owner, Mr. Magnus, finds a new supervisor."
Men grumbled about lost wages and no way to purchase food. Chance held up his hands again and the crowd silenced. "If you don't have money for food, you're more than welcome to come to the church. They are many families in the area willing to share with those in need."
"I don't need charity," muttered one man as he stalked away. Others followed suit but still others followed Father O'Malley as he led them to the church.
Frederic hid amongst the shadows and emerged with the crowd as they headed to the church. The doors opened and heavenly smells wafted around them. Chance was distracted by people asking questions and didn't see him sneak inside.
The line for food wound around the dining hall. Women wearing nun habits spooned hot stew on trays, handed out fresh loaves of bread, and offered glasses of fresh milk. His stomach growled and he joined the procession.
Not wishing to be noticed, he lowered his gaze. A spoon rose over the counter and dropped a heap of mashed potatoes onto his plate.
Whispered words, "What are you doing here?" caused him to looking up. Cora stared at him from the other side of the counter. The habit was large and fell over her eyes.
He hissed back, "What are you doing here?"
"I'm serving food."
"Well I’m eating food."
She narrowed her eyes and the man behind him shoved him forward. "Come on man, I'm hungry."
He shrugged and walked away, finding a seat amongst the dock workers. They talked at length about Jeffers demise.
"Wonder what happened to him."
"I heard he got shot."
"Shot! Who would shoot Jeffers? Sure he was a donkey's behind, but killing him seems a little extreme."
"Might have been his mother," said one man, laughing heartily.
"It probably had something to do with those special shipments."
A group of four leaned forward and their conversation lowered to whispers.
Frederic struggled to hear but got no more than a snatch of a word or two.
"I heard he was bringing in things he wasn't supposed to."
"Like what?"
"Don't know for sure. I just know it came on large crates and was packaged with the fish. Probably smelled terrible."
Frederic listened, but it seemed the group didn’t know any more than what their client had told them. He drummed his fingers against the table. They should have gotten more information from the client. What if the entire job was just a way to keep the police from discovering he was behind the drug smuggling himself?
No matter, if Frederic found the culprits he would turn them over to the law, whether it was the man who hired him or someone completely insignificant.
Chapter Ten
Cora removed herself from the serving line and secreted herself in the storage closet. Sweat clung to her back. She jerked the drenched habit over her head and threw it into a cluttered corner. She'd found an old chemise in the clothing donated to the church and now she wore it as she paced and fanned herself until she dried. The maroon dress hung on a rack and she eyed it warily. The thick material would be no cooler than the habit. Frederic needed a lesson in summer clothing.
She secured her feet in a pair of borrowed shoes and drew the dress over her head, muttering under her breath about the man who seemed to be never far from her mind. "What is he doing here? Did he follow me? What does he want?"
A light tapping sounded on the door. "Are you all right in there?"
Cora closed her eyes. "Yes, Father O'Malley, I'm all right."
"Can I get you anything?"
"No."
"Are you coming out?"
She opened the door and he studied her changed form. "I'm sorry Father, but I must leave."
"As you wish, but where will you go? You're apartment building is gone," he whispered the last word.
She gnawed on her lip and fought tears.
He squeezed her shoulder. "Stay here. There are plenty of rooms in the church."
"Father, I – I appreciate the offer but there is something I need."
"So you will come back?"
"Maybe."
He let her go and she exited the church. Morning sunlight blinded her and she shielded her eyes. The streets were filled with workers. Catcalls and whistles followed her and heat rushed to her cheeks. Why had Frederic chosen such a dress?
Shuffling her feet, she approached the burnt out tenement. The lingering smell of charred wood and other foreign matters assaulted her sense of smell. Black and gray ash floated in the breeze, landing on her shoulders and hair. Partially burned beams rose from the ash. Several residents sifted through the debris. Cora fought rising tears as she entered the fray and made her way to the general area of her own room. Every step brought more flying ash or the crunch of something broken. Literally nothing remained to salvage.
"A shame ain't it," said Mimee.
Cora turned on her heel. The elderly woman stood behind her, a frown covering her entire face.
"I'm real sorry about your place."
"How did you fare, Mimee?"
"I made out well enough. The water wagons came in time to save my home." She sighed and pointed a trembling finger behind Cora. "But I'm afraid yours is gone for good."
"Yes, I believe you’re right." Cora slumped.
"Do you have a place to stay?"
Cora smiled. "Yes, I do, thank you for offering."
"Oh, I wasn't offering my place. I was going to say that nice young man who you've become familiar with would probably offer you a place."
"What?" Cora blinked rapidly.
"Oh, don't worry child. I told him I wouldn't tell about your relationship." Mimee twisted her head and winked.
Fury welled within her and Cora spun on her heel and ran.
"Where are you going?" yelled Mimee.
Cora shouted over her shoulder, "To find my nice young man."
The line leading from the church hadn't diminished in the time she'd been gone. Men wavered from side-to-side as they waited to fill a plate. Cora passed them all. They yelled and screamed about cutting in line, but she ignored them and continued inside.
She pulled out a chair, steadied it, and stood. Brown heads, blond heads, black heads, and red heads all bent over the tables in intense concentration. She couldn't tell one from the other. Then Frederic lifted his chin, his green eyes gazed at her and a smile tilted the corner of his lips. Even as she watched his face it transformed into a frown. He rose from the table and took off at a run, not away from her but toward her.
The chair leg wobbled. She threw her hands out to stop her fall, but it was too late.
****
Frederic jumped over the end of a table and stepped underneath Cora. The impact of her fall sent them crashing to the hard floor.
"You caught me," she said pushing hair away from her face.
"Yes."
The room burst into applause and Cora's cheeks reddened. Frederic drew her aside and used his body to hide her quivering frame.
"You came back." He squeezed her upper arm, checking to see if she was real.
"Yes," she said, staring at his chest.
He nudged her chin upward and moved his head closer, determined to place his lips against hers. She lifted her hand as if to stroke his cheek, but instead she balled her fist and punched him in the gut. He swallowed to fight the rising bile. Placing a hand over her left shoulder to keep himself erect, he whispered hoarsely, "What did you do that for?"
Against his ear, she whispered, "That was for telling my neighbor I was your special friend."
She moved around him, intending to walk away but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward him. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Wherever I wish."
"I don't think so. We have some unfinished business to attend to."
"I have no unfinis
hed business with you."
"Yes, you do. Now give me a minute to catch my breath. Then we're going back to my apartment to discuss our travel plans."
Cora plopped into the closest chair. Frederic tried to gulp air, but he saw stars. He tried slowing his breathing, but the sound of his heart beating in his head made him mad. Finally feeling normal, he clutched Cora's arm and dragged her toward the church's basement door. Chance O'Malley stopped them. He looked back and forth, studying Frederic's hold.
"Cora, are you all right?"
"Yes."
"Do you need help?" he asked tilting his head in Frederic's direction.
"Father O'Malley, I assure you Cora is fine. I'm helping her."
Chance crossed his arms over his barrel shaped chest. "Is that so? Then you won't mind if I hear that from Cora, will you?"
Frederic released his hold and prayed Cora wouldn't sell him out. "No, I don't mind. Feel free to ask her."
He uncrossed his arms and bent over like he was inquiring of a small child. "Cora?"
She peered up at him, her eyes rounded with innocence. "Yes?" she whispered.
"Is this man helping you?"
Frederic heard, Is this bad man trying to hurt you?
Cora shook her head and released a sigh. "Yes."
The Father straightened and asked again. "Are you sure you're going where you want to go? Remember, I said we have plenty of room here. You're welcome to stay as long as you like. You have the job at the school. I'm sure we can find more clothing for you amongst the donations. And you can eat with us."
A tear slipped along her cheek and Cora swiped it away. She shook her head. "Thank you for the offer but Mr. St. Martin has agreed to help me return home to my family and I believe I should take him up on it."
"I see. Cora do you mind letting me speak with Mr. St. Martin…alone?"
She didn't answer but walked over to a wall and leaned against it. Frederic kept his gaze riveted to her to make sure she didn't run away.
"I don’t know what game you're playing but if any harm comes to that girl, I will hunt you down and…"
"Father, Father, you forget yourself," said Frederic staring at him and narrowing his eyes.
"Don't tempt me."
"I have no intention of harming Cora. As she said, I'm delivering her to her family."
Father O'Malley exhaled a long breath. "Very well. We'll pray for a safe journey."
"Thank you."
Frederic left the Father, gathered Cora, and they exited the church as a couple with a purpose.
Chapter Eleven
Cora dragged her feet, and Frederic muttered under his breath. "Girl, come on. We have to get back to my place, gather supplies, and catch the next stagecoach to Louisiana. Don't forget the party."
Fortunately, Frederic had a memory like an elephant and he remembered every detail from the letter Amelia had sent. The date, the reasons given, at least he remembered everything he'd had time to read. Besides, all he had to do was keep up the ruse until someone tried to attack Cora.
He had to admit he was surprised it hadn't happened already. They'd taken her bag in the alley. They'd burned down her apartment. But since then, nothing. He wasn't fool enough to believe he'd hidden her so well they couldn't find her. If she could just remember who the shooter was then he wouldn't have to wait for them to attack.
The details he'd discovered about the New York City opium ring were startling. The shipments came in by boat from several countries, namely China. When they arrived, they were picked up and distributed by someone know only as Mr. Opium.
Their mysterious client had insinuated that police had attempted to bring down the ring for years, but with little success. Catching a peon in the organization wasn't enough. They needed a higher up, someone with a direct link to the head boss.
Jeffers had been such a man and look how he ended up. Whether assassinated by the main man or an underling, the fact remained that Cora had seen the killer. And that put her in grave danger. All he had to do was keep her safe until she could remember a face, get a sketch artist to render a drawing, and then apprehend the man. Sure, piece of cake.
"Can we slow down? You're hurting my arm." She wrenched her arm free of his grasp.
He ran his hands through his hair. "Look I'm sorry, but we need to get off the street."
"Why? What for?" She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot like she wasn't going anywhere.
Frederic rolled his eyes and drew her into a dark alley. He pushed her against the wall and leaned in close to whisper in her ear. "Because you aren't safe."
She pushed him away and shifted loose hair from her face. "That is ridiculous."
"Is it? You witnessed a murder. A murder. Do you not think the person who committed said murder might be worried you'll pin something on him? Don't forget, they don't know you can't remember what they look like."
She sagged against the wall and he held her upright. She twisted her head from side-to-side and moaned, "No, no."
"Shh, please be quiet."
"This can't be happening. No, it just can't. Look, all I wanted to do was leave home and have an adventure. Nothing much, just enough to say I saw part of the world, that I didn't just marry and start popping out babies."
The rant grew louder and more intense and Frederic clamped his hand over her mouth. She struggled and passersby started to pay attention.
"Do stop. People are watching."
That calmed her a little, but not much.
"Look, we need to go. Being in the open is too dangerous."
His words must have been the straw that broke the camel's back. She pointed a shaky finger in his face, stomped her foot and landed on his toes before shouting, "If I shouldn't be out in public then why in heaven's name did you let me leave your apartment in the first place!"
She needed to be quiet. His pulse raced, blood pounded between his ears. There was only one way to force her silence.
****
He kissed her. The slow rhythmic motion of his mouth matched the movement of his hands. They snaked behind her head and pulled her closer. She arched her back and moaned as he deepened the kiss. Reality melted away as emotion took over.
He pulled away first and placed his forehead against hers. Her heartbeat rapidly in her chest and she struggled to draw breath. He loosened his grip, but didn't release her. She waited for him to say something, anything, but he was eerily silent. A tension settled in his muscles and Cora whispered, "What?"
"Don't move." He shot a glance to his left and Cora held her breath. "When I tell you, run toward the apartment and don't look back."
"What? No I can't," she whispered, her voice frantic.
"For once, do as I say."
"B-but what about you?"
"I'll meet you there."
She opened her mouth to speak but he shoved her and said, "Now!"
She stumbled from his arms and fled along the alleyway. Sounds of pain reverberated off the brick walls. Fear won out over desire and she forced herself to follow Frederic's directions.
The alleyway next to the apartment, as he called it, appeared deserted. She found the secret wall, moved it aside, and ascended the stairs two at a time. The door swung open and she fell inside closing it behind her. She scooted the chair and table in front of the door and stood back with her hands over her heart fearing the barrier wouldn't be enough.
She found an empty traveling case and began filling it with scattered clothing that had been thrown behind the changing screen. The latch secure, she settled on the edge of the bed and waited for Frederic to return.
Tired from the morning's activities, her eyelids grew heavy. If she could just close her eyes and rest for moment, at least until Frederic returned. Surely there would be no harm.
But her heart thumped madly in her ears and she sat unmoving as darkness fell. The sound of scraping startled her. She tensed. The door rattled as if someone pushed it. She jumped from the bed and shoved a table, and other he
avy items in front of the door.
"Let me in, Cora!" yelled Frederic in a harsh whisper.
Quickly she moved things aside and Frederic fell into the room. Dried blood covered his face and hands. His clothing was torn and ripped, one sleeve dangled.
Cora helped him to the chair and rushed to find fresh water and a cloth. She brought it back and dabbed his face. "What happened?"
He groaned when the rag touched an open wound and she apologized.
"It's not important. Are you ready to go?"
She stomped her foot. "I won't go until you tell me what happened."
"I'm glad you did what I said."
"What?"
"There were three of them. If you'd stayed…" His words drifted away and he shrugged.
"What?"
He gazed upward. "I wouldn't have been able to protect you."
The fear in his voice scared her and she fell onto the sofa across from him. She folded her hands in her lap and started shaking. He moved to her side, grabbed her hands, and squeezed. "Cora, everything will be all right. We just need to get you to your family."
"But what about the authorities? Shouldn't we tell someone what I saw? Maybe they can help us."
"I'll think about it. But right now we need to catch a ride."
Chills of fear washed over her. Deflated, she nodded in agreement.
Chapter Twelve
Exquisite pain all over his body dogged Frederic's every step. They traversed the streets together, him carrying the bag and her holding his arm. They appeared like any other couple out for a leisurely stroll. Several times he had her lean into him and he stared at her in a longing manner to help with the deception.
They arrived at the stagecoach office and Cora waited in a seat while he acquired passage. The ticket seller studied him and Frederic wished he'd found a way to cover his developing bruises, but it was too late now.
Before he could ask the man said, "Sorry, fella but you just missed the last one."
"What? How can that be? Your schedule says the last coach leaves at two o'clock."
The man moved his jaws up and down, spit into a spittoon, and studied the board behind him. "Well fancy that, you're right. But the coach is still gone. You can catch the one in the morning."
Cora (Southern Hearts Book 3) Page 6
