As soon as the latch clicked, Katya threw her arms around Maddox’s neck. His arms pressed against her back, and his lips found her mouth. She pushed her body against his, leaving the problems of the carnival outside where she could not see them. She lost herself in Maddox, the pungent oil smell of his hands and the spicy sausage taste of his tongue.
A conversation picked up a few feet outside the door, and Katya tore herself away from Maddox. His top hat tilted back on his head, knocked there by the brim of her hat. “Is there a lock?” she asked, trying to catch her breath. Her eyes searched the door handle.
“No. This way.”
Maddox took her bare hand and led her into the sitting room. Cigarette cards littered the table in sepia tones and faded hues. Maddox lifted a chair from around the table and closed the door. He wedged the chair’s back under the cast iron door knob and tested it for strength.
Katya peeled off her other glove. She did not have time to find a place to lay them before Maddox scooped her into his arms. She dropped them to the floor, much more intent on finishing what she had started with Maddox before someone discovered them.
Maddox’s fingers worked to unfasten the buttons on the front of Katya’s jacket. She wiggled free of it, content to let it fall on the floor as well. She stripped off Maddox’s jacket, dropping it as he pulled her up against him. His mouth covered hers hungrily, insistent and impatient. He inched her toward the table, her bustle bumping it and nudging her lower back. Maddox gripped her sides and plucked her up to sit on the table. He positioned himself between her legs, the fabric of her dress and undergarments keeping him from pressing directly against her body.
In her eagerness, Katya fumbled over the buttons on Maddox’s shirt. He skipped ahead, unfastening his trousers before helping Katya open the front of his shirt. His suspender straps held the material against his chest on either side while it draped open to reveal the rich red of his flannel union suit. It offered its own vertical row of buttons, which Katya started on immediately.
Maddox tossed his hat onto a nearby chair. He unbuttoned Katya’s bodice with nimble execution, still three layers away from her flesh. Maddox pried at the cotton corset cover, the gold silk corset, and the white chemise beneath it. He lowered his head to Katya’s chest, his impassioned lips sucking at the exposed curves of her breasts.
Katya slid her hand down the front of Maddox’s union suit, his length stiffening at her touch. Maddox sorted through the layers of skirt and underskirt, reaching his hands up to the band of her pantalettes. He swept them gently off her legs and over the wide, one-inch heels of her boots. He slid Katya toward him to the edge of the table.
Katya unpinned her hat and placed it beside her where cigarette cards peeked out from beneath her skirt. She took a deep breath as Maddox entered her, squeezing her fingers around his arms. Maddox held her closer, the bare parts of their chests touching as he found a rhythm with his thrusts. Katya bit her lip to keep from crying out, leaning her temple against his and making quiet moans over Maddox’s shoulder. She had never felt anything so good.
With every heartbeat, the pleasure spread through Katya’s body. She wrapped her legs around Maddox as best she could, pressing them tighter together. Her eyes drifted shut, her sighs and half-whines warming the top of his ear. As Maddox entered deeper, Katya’s moans grew to fill the quiet room. Maddox lifted one hand off her waist and placed it over her mouth. Katya stopped trying to hold back anymore, moaning and murmuring into Maddox’s dirty palm.
Maddox pressed his lips against Katya’s neck. He moaned into her skin through a dozen hard, separate thrusts. Katya held him against her, her legs quivering around him as her own body released its incredible tension.
As her breathing slowed, Katya became aware of the room once again. She could hear the unending sounds of the carnival beyond the front of the building, calling voices and churning machines.
Maddox kissed her neck, her jaw, her cheek. He peeled his hand off her mouth and kissed her lips. He leaned back and wiped his sleeve across his mouth. “I got your face dirty. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
Maddox glanced around the room, his hips still in line with Katya’s. “There has to be something to clean you up with.”
“I’ll go down to the sinks in a minute.” Katya rested her head on Maddox’s shoulder, her breathing picking up as she thought back over what they had done.
“I wish we had more time,” Maddox sighed.
Katya nodded, her temple swiveling against his collar bone.
“Did you...” Maddox paused, the only time he had ever hesitated in speaking to her.
Katya raised her head off his shoulder to look into his eyes.
“Did you speak with a pharmacist before you came here?”
“Yes. It’s taken care of.”
Maddox pressed his lips to Katya’s forehead. He leaned his hips away and started buttoning up his red union suit.
Katya slipped carefully to her feet, pulling her pantalettes on. “There isn’t a mirror in here, is there?” she asked doubtfully.
“No.”
“You’ll have to tell me when I’ve got my hat on straight.”
Maddox chuckled. “Nothing’s going to be straight about us the rest of the night.” He buttoned his pants and his shirt.
Katya tugged her camisole and corset into place, neatly arranging the corset cover over it. On quick inspection, the layers seemed to have done their job and kept her sweat from staining the fabric of her dress. She reached for her hat and set it on top of the hair piled on her head.
Maddox adjusted his suspenders. “Your hat looks straight to me.”
Katya stuck the pin through it, making sure to miss her scalp, and Maddox retrieved their jackets from the floor. He held out Katya’s, the embroidery hazy through a sheen of dust, hair, and fibers. She took it and brushed it off before she put it on. She picked up her gloves and looked over the room, surprised she had finally put herself back together. The cigarette cards, however, had migrated to every available surface around.
Maddox pulled his jacket on and buttoned it. “It’s a good thing I’m a working man. Otherwise, we would’ve had a vest to wrestle with, too.”
Katya laughed, admiring Maddox with twinkling eyes. She pulled her gloves on without glancing at them.
Maddox kissed her again before he reached for his hat and set it on his head. “My hat doesn’t need to be perfect. I’m expected to be a bit of a mess.”
Katya straightened it for him anyway, already missing the feel of his naked skin against hers.
Maddox touched her face. “Don’t be sad. Come on. Work’s only a couple more hours. Then we can see each other again if you want.”
Katya perked up at the thought.
“I do have a bed, but it isn’t much. It’s all right if you don’t mind being close to me.”
“I don’t mind being close to you.”
Maddox held onto his hat and kissed Katya one last time. He took the chair out from under the door handle and replaced it at the table. Maddox hastily picked up some of the cigarette cards and flung them onto its surface. He opened the door for Katya. “You should go out first. I’ll leave in a minute.”
Katya nodded and walked through the storage room. She slipped out the door onto the crowded grounds, the great patches of shadow and light the exact opposite of the straight-forward lighting of the maintenance building. She tried to act natural, even though for once, she did not want to be at the carnival. She did not want to wander its premises, sharing the facts of its astounding machines with the wonder-eyed patrons. Katya avoided Brady’s line of sight, passing by the dark, empty side of the nearest food stall. She ambled toward the water closets, wishing she was wrapped up in Maddox’s arms in his tiny bed, fighting him for space just to touch him while he enjoyed the fact there was none to spare.
Katya shut herself in one of the compact water closets. Her legs felt shaky and weak from sitting on the edge of the table, but walk
ing had helped them regain some of their sturdiness. Katya took a clean towel off the rack on the wall and washed her face with soap, careful not to wet her clothes or her hair. She patted herself dry and left the dirty towel in the collection basket.
As she left the water closet, she spotted the new charwoman on her way to check them. She did not share the once-attractive weariness of Agna Lieber. She reminded Katya more of Irina, brusque mannered, her hefty form wedged into her uniform. Irina got on with the charwoman beautifully, chattering animatedly during every carriage ride about President Bayard’s latest decision and the new sweet shop’s exorbitant prices.
The charwoman barely acknowledged Katya. She offered a firm bob of her round head and swept through the water closet’s open door.
Katya moved on, ready to put extra distance between herself and the soiled towel reeking of oil. She could taste it, faint but oddly sweet. She resolved to continue on her rounds through the carnival, making a wide circle to Magdalene’s food stall in the back. More than anyone, Katya wanted to avoid Brady. She knew he was watching her to keep her safe, but she could not stand to have him comment about her personal life again. It was Mr. Warden and Mr. Weis she feared. They were the problem, the ones who could harm her, not Maddox. He could only hurt her heart, and if he wanted, her reputation. She did not dare think of the things Mr. Warden and Mr. Weis might prove capable of.
Katya reached the food stall and waited for Magdalene to spare her a tenth of her attention. “Can I have a small taste of the root beer, please? I’m so thirsty.”
“Root beer,” Magdalene repeated over her right shoulder to Irina and the Englishman.
“Anything going on tonight I should know about?” Katya asked, trying to sound lighthearted and interested.
“What do you mean?”
“Have you talked to anybody? Mr. Warden. Mr. Kelly.”
“No.” Magdalene accepted a mug from Irina and passed it to Katya.
Katya slurped the root beer gratefully, letting its strong, biting taste beat back the oil from Maddox’s hand. She had not checked the back of her dress for stains. She hoped her jacket covered them all.
“Have you spoken to anyone?” Magdalene asked.
“No,” Katya said automatically, still thinking of Mr. Warden and Mr. Kelly. She bit her lip, remembering that the lapses in her conversation with Maddox had not exactly harbored silence.
Magdalene’s voice broke into Katya’s reverie. “How’s the root beer?”
“It’s good. Thank you.”
Katya walked away, sipping her root beer and using the white mug to steer patrons toward the food stall. “Have you tried the root beer? It’s delicious.” Even after she drained the mug empty, she sold patrons on the idea of it for half an hour. Katya left the mug in one of the collection bins to be washed and reused.
When she glimpsed Maddox again, it was only for a second. He lingered fifty feet away on the other side of the band stage. The blaring flute solo alone would have made it impossible to hear him if he had spoken. He simply smiled, bright and knowing, and Katya returned the expression, content and happy.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Katya waited in the back of St. John the Episcopal, listening to the early morning rustling of the slumbering homeless. Magdalene sat beside her, patient and still. Katya turned her head to catch the different sounds running over the room. A snore erupted in the sanctuary’s front corner. A murmur of dream words sounded from the other side, cut off by a whistle of breath.
At last, even Magdalene swung her head when the front door of the church opened in the hall. Brady stepped quietly into the sanctuary and slid himself onto the bench next to Magdalene. He lowered his hat into his lap.
“Where do we begin?” Magdalene asked.
“What do you know about the death of Agna Lieber? I only know she was replaced.”
Katya could not stop the answer from pouring out of her. “She killed herself. Mr. Warden kept it quiet. I saw her obituary in the News.” Katya held up her thumb and index finger, spaced an inch apart. “That much room for her. Unknown causes, it said, following the death of her husband. Possibly died of grief.”
Brady’s eyes were as serious and skeptical as Katya’s voice. “What form, exactly, did Mrs. Lieber’s grief take when it killed her?”
“It was a small gun. A pistol? A revolver?”
“Are you sure it was suicide?”
“Quite sure. She distracted Mr. Warden, told him I needed to see him about something. He came out of his office to talk to me, and by the time we got there, she’d shot herself. No one else was in the building.”
Brady’s lips twisted into a wry smirk. “What did Warden say to that?”
Katya hesitated. She wanted to tell the truth, that Mr. Warden had seemed regretful and wounded by it. She did not know if Brady or Magdalene would appreciate her continuing to share that side of him. Mr. Warden had also tried to kiss her, which Katya definitely wanted to leave out. “Mr. Warden brought in Mr. Weis, the new head of security. He started taking care of the body or doing something with it. I couldn’t see. I left soon after that. That’s all I saw.”
“Was Warden rattled?” Brady asked, relishing the thought.
“Yes.” Under his cool facade, Mr. Warden had been sweating bullets.
Magdalene spoke up between Katya and Brady. “Who’s Mr. Weis? What does he look like?”
“I don’t know anything about him,” Katya said. “I wish I did. He gives me the creeps, just like Mr. Lieber did. Mr. Weis looks like a nice man. Soft cheeks. Small nose. But his eyes devour everything. There’s nothing he can’t see, I’m sure of it.” Katya’s heart sank as she realized that might include witnessing her remove her glove and touch her bare hand to Maddox’s.
Magdalene turned to Brady. “Have you heard anything about him, Mr. Kelly?”
“No, I’m sorry,” Brady said. “I’m more likely to be talked about than spoken to.”
“I don’t know if I’ve seen Mr. Weis,” Magdalene went on. “But I’m still being scrutinized. Even if I do everything the same way I always have, I feel I’m giving something away.”
Katya laid her gloved hand over Magdalene’s. “Have you ever thought about leaving the carnival? Quitting your job?”
“No. I won’t do it. It’s too suspicious, and I’m not leaving either of you to deal with Mr. Warden alone. Even with three of us, Mr. Warden could make us disappear and cover the whole thing up.”
Brady nodded sharply. “We should act soon.”
“The reporters are there almost every night,” Magdalene informed him with satisfaction. “If we can get the band to stop playing, more people will be able to hear Mr. Warden’s confession.”
Katya agreed but did not think it would be as easy as saying it. “How will we do that? They haven’t stopped playing since we opened except when the Beast blew something.”
Magdalene answered without hesitation. “Use the only name that works around here. Tell them Mr. Warden wants them to stop until further notice.”
Katya could not argue with that suggestion. She knew Mr. Warden’s name worked. She had ridden half the carnival on that name.
Brady stroked his chin and tangled beard. “If only we could get Mr. Warden onto the band stage or the other stage, somewhere people could see him.”
Katya’s spirits surged upward. “Getting Mr. Warden to a place where people can see him? He’ll love that. It would be the easiest part.”
“So what’s stopping us? What’s keeping us from blowing the truth wide open the very next night the reporters are there?”
Katya could not put words to the answer, but she felt her stomach tighten. They were missing something, and they needed every last piece to fit to get it right.
Magdalene spoke up quietly. “They think we did it. They must think we had something to do with Mr. Lieber’s murder.”
“How could we possibly?” Katya whispered.
“Don’t they always look for motive? They could s
ay you killed him for spreading rumors about your reputation. They could say I killed him to protect you or because I thought no one would suspect me. Either one of us could have killed him because we spited him. Mr. Warden has to know nobody liked Mr. Lieber.”
Brady’s deeper, gruffer voice interjected. “Why should that stop us? We should act fast. We can’t let them pin a murder on you.”
“They’ll say the journal is a cover-up to get Mr. Warden out of the way and keep him from finding out the truth about Mr. Lieber.”
“It’s in my handwriting,” Brady insisted.
“I know,” Magdalene said gently. “But Mr. Warden is worth millions, and we’re nobodies. He could discredit us in an instant.”
“So what do you suggest?”
Magdalene could barely push the words out. “That we wait.”
Brady jerked forward in his seat. “For what? For Mr. Lieber’s murderer to reveal himself and publicly apologize for any trouble he might’ve caused?” Brady ducked his head and ran his hands over his hair. His shoulders drooped. “Forgive me.”
“I understand your frustration, Mr. Kelly. But you know as well as I do that rushing into a confrontation with Mr. Warden can only end badly.”
Brady nodded, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Mr. Warden could destroy you. He’s probably bribed the police and the newspapers. Nothing would stop him from creating new evidence and sending you to prison as Mr. Lieber’s murderer. We’d never see you again, and you’d never see that journal. Mr. Warden wouldn’t throw it in the trash this time. He’d burn it.”
Brady nodded as he sat up straight and picked his head up. “What are we waiting for? We can’t possibly find out who killed Lieber.”
“We just need to find the right time when the newspapers are there and there are so many people to hear his confession that not even Mr. Warden can worm his way out.” Magdalene laid her hand on Brady’s arm. “You know what I’m talking about, Mr. Kelly. There are so many nights when the carnival runs smoothly and everything goes Mr. Warden’s way. But there are the nights when the unexpected happens and strange guests show up around every corner.”
Steampunk Carnival (Steam World Book 1) Page 18
