Well Kept Secrets (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 4)

by Liza O'Connor

Xavier’s eyebrows rose. “It will probably be months before the ground has thawed sufficiently for a burial.”

  Vic nodded and sighed. “I just hate the idea of him going through that alone. And trust me, Claire isn’t very helpful in the grieving process. She serves lectures like some serve tea.”

  “I’m sure Jacko will be there for him.”

  “Not if Claire has anything to say about it,” she muttered.

  Xavier opened his mouth to assure Vic that would not happen, but truth was, Claire could become a serious problem.

  Chapter 20

  Nearly dying always made Jacko’s blood sing. Too charged to sleep, he decided to hunt for Pete’s father in the lower dock bars.

  After three hours of no luck, he ran into Curly, looking worse for the wear with two black eyes and a busted lip.

  “I hope the job I gave you didn’t cause that,” he said as he slid onto the opposite bench.

  “It did, but weren’t your fault. I shouldn’t have let myself be seen.”

  “What happened?”

  “I was tucked into a pile of garbage, nice and neat. Then this damn rag picker spots a bit of my scarf and goes in after it like a dog after a bone. Instead of leaving when I told him the scarf was mine, he starts arguing with me, claiming he saw it first. I finally got him to leave, but not soon enough. About twenty minutes later, ten bizzies pulled me from the pile and beat me half senseless.” He grimaced. “I may have given them your name. It’s all still hazy.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  Curly breathed out in relief. “I heard Conrad was dead. Guess it’s true then.”

  “Don’t know for a fact, but I’d put money on it.” Jacko slid the open locket to Curly. “You ever see a sailor with this woman?”

  Curly studied the picture. “It sorta looks like the actress you fancied after we survived Black Crow double crossing us. When was that?”

  “April 86,” Jacko replied. “And I preferred sassy to sweet back then.”

  Curly nodded. “You’re right. This gal’s too sweet. Still, it’s the locket you bought your sassy gal.”

  Jacko sighed. “There could be hundreds just like it.”

  Curly snorted. “Not if that man treasured his balls. You threatened to cut ‘em off if you ever saw another locket like it.”

  “I did?”

  Curly nodded and chuckled, then sobered as he touched his busted lip.

  Jacko found it a bit disturbing that Curly seemed to remember more of his captain’s life than he did. “Remember what the jewelers name was?”

  “Nope, but he still has his shop a block down from here.”

  Jacko tossed another pound on the table and rose.

  Curly’s blackened and swollen eyes widened. “What’s that for?”

  “Having a good memory,” Jacko replied and hurried out.

  When he arrived at the shop, it seemed vaguely familiar. Knowing the morning would be busy with the job Xavier had stuck him with, he decided he needed to resolve this now. Certain the fellow lived above his shop, he picked the back door lock and made his way upstairs. When he entered the bedroom, he recognized the jeweler at once. He located a chair, placed it by the bed, and sat down.

  He then ignited the bedroom lamp and nudged the fellow awake.

  The white haired, grizzled old man woke in fear, and remained so as he stared at Jacko.

  Jacko handed him the locket. “Do you remember making this?”

  His frightened eyes shifted to the locket and he nodded. “I never made another, I swear.”

  While the man appeared to be sincere, it couldn’t be the truth…unless… “Did you give the design to someone else?”

  The man frantically shook his head. “Never.”

  “Then how’d this one come to be?”

  With shaking ancient fingers the jeweler turned it over and grabbed his optical glass from the bed stand. “This is yours…or Miss Carmine’s.”

  That name struck a bell. Carmine LaFleur, a redheaded firecracker.

  “You are certain this is the locket I bought for Carmine?”

  “Yes…I remember this small notch. She complained about it.”

  How did Maggie get Carmine’s locket? It made no sense. Why would Carmine give away her gift? It cost him a bloody fortune.

  Jacko retrieved the locket. “You wouldn’t know where Carmine is now would you?”

  The old man shook his head.

  Replacing the chair against the wall, Jacko smiled and toss him a pound. “You’ve been very helpful, thanks.”

  The jeweler’s brows rose in surprise. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it. I’ll lock up when I leave,” Jacko promised and hurried out.

  ***

  With his memory of Carmine returning, Jacko recalled her old address and went there. The sun was rising on the east side of town. She was not going to appreciate a visit this early in the morning…that is if she still lived here. Given she’d sold the locket he gave her, she might be living in the same tenement Vic was camped out in. The life of an actress was an uncertain business. Although Carmine had a gift for enchanting men into buying her fine presents back then, she could have lost the skill with time.

  When he arrived, an old man was retrieving milk bottles from the stoop.

  “Excuse me, but does Carmine LaFleur still live here?”

  The fellow rose with his two bottles and smiled. “Carmine. I haven’t thought of her in years. You an old beau?”

  “I am,” Jacko grinned, trying to look his most harmless. Not an easy feat given he hadn’t slept and probably looked like hell.

  “She was a beauty,” the old man said with wistful longing.

  “Any idea where she went?”

  The man closed one eye and stared at the rising sun. “She got herself a rich patron, she did. Put her up on Chesapeake Lane. You know that street?”

  Jacko nodded. It was also referred to as ‘Mistress Lane’. “Any chance you have the number?”

  The man chuckled. “No chance whatsoever.” He then went inside and closed the door.

  Returning to his hired carriage, Jacko told the fellow he wished to go to ‘Chesapeake Lane.’

  The driver frowned. “What number?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Who you looking for?”

  “Carmine LaFleur.”

  The fellow smiled. “How much you willing to pay for the exact address?”

  “A pound.” And extravagant amount to pay for such a minor piece of information, but Jacko was short on time.

  “Ten pounds,” the driver countered.

  “Your greed just cost you a pound and a fare.” He hailed another carriage coming down the road.

  “I’ll take you there,” the driver yelled.

  Jacko ignored him and gave the new driver his destination.

  As they entered Chesapeake Lane, he saw a half-frozen boy, about the same age as Pete, sitting on a stack of papers, crying out the day’s news.

  “Stop,” Jacko called to his driver and climbed from the carriage. As he approached the news crier, the young fellow smiled up at him.

  “Any chance you know which house Carmine LaFleur lives in?” Jacko asked.

  The boy’s smile faded along with his hope of a sale. He shook his head. “I don’t know the ladies by their names.”

  “This is a redhead, a real looker.”

  Pointing at a yellow house mid-way down the street, the boy said, “I ’spect you be wanting the yellow one.”

  Jacko appreciated the fellow hadn’t tried to rob him for the information. “How much for the whole lot of papers?”

  The boy’s brow furrowed in mistrust. “Fifty pence.”

  He pulled out three shillings. “This will buy the whole lot and leave extra for you to have something warm to eat.” He then placed a pound in the boy’s palm. “And this is for helping me out and not expecting anything for it. What’s your name?”

  “Toby Jones.”

  “Well, Toby Jon
es. It was a pleasure doing business with you.” Jacko headed toward his carriage.

  “Wait! You forgot your papers,” the boy yelled.

  Jacko turned. “Sell them for yourself once you’ve gotten something warm in your stomach.”

  Staring at Jacko as if uncertain how to react to his good fortune, the kid shook his head. A moment later, he’d grabbed his papers and scurried down the street.

  Jacko arrived at the carriage and paid off the fellow.

  “I can wait for you if you like,” the driver offered.

  “Not sure how long I’ll be.”

  Misunderstanding, the guy chuckled. “Oh, these ladies move you in and out pretty fast. Don’t want their patrons catching them.”

  Jacko didn’t feel like explaining he wasn’t here for sex, so he just climbed into the carriage and had the fellow drive past the yellow house and around the block. He stopped him at the servant’s alley. “I’ll walk from here.”

  “I’ll move down a bit so I’m not blocking the alley. Most gentlemen prefer to be driven to the back gate.”

  Swiftly walking the short distance to the yellow house, Jacko pondered how many of these women kept lovers on the side. It was a good thing he didn’t have a mistress, because he’d be hiring people to watch her house after today.

  He expected to have to climb over the gate, but it was conveniently open—as was the back door. He used the servant’s stairway to reach the second floor and then quietly opened doors until he found the one he wanted.

  Her fiery red hair bought back memories of very pleasant times, making his loins stir and come alive.

  He dampened those feelings by recalling Alice’s sweet smile and generous spirit. His wife was worth a thousand Carmines.

  Upon ensuring no one was standing about the dark room waiting to shoot him, he sat on the side of the bed and gently shook the red headed woman awake.

  “Oh Lord, it can’t be ten already,” she groaned.

  “No. It’s seven. But I have a busy day ahead of me and needed to ask you a few questions first.”

  She pushed herself up and blinked repeatedly as she stared at him. Her fabulous hair falling over her lace covered breasts brought back warm memories.

  “Jacko?”

  He nodded.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to know what you did with the locket I gave you.”

  She blinked several times more and rubbed her eyes. “You woke me up to discuss jewelry?”

  “Yes, I need to know if you gave it to someone.”

  “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” she snapped. “Now go away and let me sleep.”

  He dangled the locket before her. “I’m talking about this one.”

  She snatched it at once, now wide awake. “Where did you get this?” she demanded.

  “From a little boy who has lost his mother. I’ve promised to find his father.”

  She gasped in pain and fumbled with the latch until it opened. She stared at the smiling face inside. “Is this the woman who died?” Anguish was written on her face even before he answered.

  “Yes, her name is—“

  “Maggie!” Carmine cried and pressed the silver lavaliere to her heart. Heartfelt sobs followed.

  The old Jacko would have gathered her in his arms and comforted her, which would have led to some very fine sex, but the new married Jacko handed her a handkerchief.

  “How long ago did you give this to her?”

  “How did she die?” Carmine asked, ignoring his question entirely.

  “I’ll answer your questions after you answer mine. When did she receive this?”

  Back in ‘87. She did me a favor. I told her to sell it and use the money to…”

  Jacko’s sense of hidden truths told him he was close to a treasure. “To what?”

  “To care for the child,” Carmine replied and dried her eyes. “How did she die?”

  “I’m not done with my questions yet. Did you know Maggie in ‘86?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Who was she seeing?”

  Carmine stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Maggie? No one. She was the opposite of me. Shy as a rabbit.”

  “Not that shy or there wouldn’t have been a child in ‘87.”

  Carmine dropped the back of her head against her silk padded headboard. “It doesn’t matter. Just tell me how she died.”

  “It matters a great deal to her boy. Now give me a name.”

  “I don’t have a name. Now tell me how she died!”

  Jacko shook his head. His gut told him Carmine knew more than she was telling.

  To his shock, his refusal resulted in the woman exploding in anger and beating her dainty fists upon his chests.

  “Tell me, damn you! I have the right to know.”

  “Not until—“

  “She’s my sister! Tell me what happened!” She burst into more sobs and pressed against his chest. “She’s my sister and the only person who ever gave a damn about me.”

  Jacko patted her back, shocked at her response, but then on consideration, was only surprised that he hadn’t seen it for himself. The similarities were there, only the personalities were so different that it significantly altered their looks.

  “Maggie was murdered last week. We have determined who killed her and why, but that’s not why I’m here. She left a precious boy behind, and I have promised him I’d find his father.”

  A hard burst of air exploded from Carmine’s lungs and she pushed away from Jacko’s chest. “And what would you do if you found this fellow?”

  “I would try to determine if he was good father material.”

  “And if you discovered him to be a thieving pirate?” she challenged.

  “Then I would adopt the boy myself.”

  “You? What are you if not a pirate and thief?”

  He met her angry eyes. “I was such years ago…” He was about to tell her he was a rich gentleman with a very fine lady for his wife, but as Pete’s aunt she could make trouble and would, if she believed serious money was involved. “I have reformed.”

  She snorted.

  “It’s true. I now solve crimes rather than commit them. Pay’s lousy, but the work’s rewarding.”

  “And what would you do with this child of Maggie’s?”

  “If a proper father cannot be found, then I would make him part of my family.”

  “Family?”

  “I have a wonderful wife, a one year old son, and another on the way.”

  Her eyes narrowed, no doubt trying to determine whether any of this was true.

  “I can bring Xavier Thorn to attest to my reformation…and family if you wish.”

  “Xavier Thorn…my God, you do solve crimes.”

  He nodded. “I need to return and solve one now. Only I promised Pete I’d find his pa.”

  Carmine stared up at the ceiling. “Well, you have.”

  Jacko sighed in relief. “His name please.”

  “Jacko Black.”

  Curtailing his temper, he explained again, “I need to first try and find the real father.”

  With a heavy groan, she leaned against the headboard again. “You are the real father, just as I am the boy’s real mother.”

  Struggling to make sense of her words, he finally stammered, “How is that possible, I wasn’t even here in April of 86.”

  “No, but you damn well were in May, and your nasty little sperm survived the medicine I took daily to prevent having babies.”

  Pete was his! Truly his. Exhilaration rushed into his heart, followed by anger.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I might not have been the man I am now, but I would have stepped up.”

  “Stepped up to what? I didn’t want you, and I damn well didn’t want a baby. I’m an actress! That is all I’ve ever wanted to be. And when I am no longer to be such, I will swallow hemlock and die.”

  “But your son…”

  “Listen carefully! I am not the b
oy’s mother. I did everything possible, other than go to an abortionist, to get rid of him. I starved myself half to death, drank several foul tasting droughts, but your damn seed wouldn’t give up. So when I could no longer hide it, I went to my sister’s tiny room and stayed with her until the thing was born. Then I gave her your locket to sell for whatever it might need, and I returned to my life.” She held up her chin defiantly. “And I’ve had a very good life. I have a generous patron and I’m lead actress in the new Gilbert and Sullivan show.”

  Jacko stood up to get away from her. Her referral to Pete as ‘thing’ and ‘it’ angered him beyond words. He needed to leave before he did something foolish like strangle her.

  “Do you have any proof of this?” he demanded.

  “I don’t need proof. My body lived it.”

  “For me. Proof that I am Pete’s father.”

  Her anger subsided. “You plan to take him then?”

  “Without reservation.” His heart swelled again. Pete was his son. No wonder the boy had always reminded him of himself.

  Carmine rose from her bed and went to a closet. She pulled out a hatbox filled with letters. She thumbed through them until she found the one she wanted.

  “Maggie and I wrote instead of visiting. We always claimed it was because we were both so busy, but truth is, we weren’t comfortable in each other’s home…and after it arrived, I couldn’t see her ever again, because I didn’t want to see it.”

  “His name is Pete,” Jacko growled.

  “I know his name. Maggie gave it to him. She gave him all he needed. I am nothing to that child and it is nothing to me.”

  She opened a letter and read a bit, then handed the pages to Jacko. “This is a letter from Maggie that acknowledges you as his father. Evidently, you’d come upon the boy and offered him a job. Maggie was terrified that if the child hung around you, you’d realize he was yours. She said he resembles you. That should do as proof without involving me in this matter at all.”

  Jacko read the letter and slipped it into his vest. “This should suffice. Should you ever wish to meet Pete—”

  “Have you not been listening to anything I’ve said? I want nothing to do with the child.”

  Jacko breathed in to steady his anger. “I was only going to say if you did, remember you are his aunt, not his mother. Pete had the best mother in the world. I don’t want him ever knowing otherwise.”