CantrellsBride

by Suzanne Ferrell

  Claudia didn’t hesitate a moment. “Henderson, if you’ll bring the carriage around, I believe we should go see the authorities.”

  * * * * *

  Inside the brick police building, Laura and Claudia sat across the desk from the chief officer of the night, Lieutenant Chandler, a rather stout man with a balding pate and thick jowls. The only elegant part of him was the thick white handlebar moustache that drooped down to his first chin in arrogance.

  “Why would this Nigel Blackwood kill Senator Anderson? Are you sure you didn’t see them having an argument in the recent past?” he asked for the third time, sitting back in his chair, hands crossed imperiously over the front of his blue vest. Though his tone was solicitous, it was just a tad too patronizing.

  Laura swallowed hard before replying. “As I said before. I’ve seen the senator speak to many people in the library, including Mr. Blackwood, but have never witnessed any altercations between them. I have no idea why he’d wish to murder him.”

  “And you’re sure you saw him kill the senator? You did say there was only one lamp lit in the entire library. I’m sure a delicate lady such as yourself might’ve been confused or afraid in the dark.”

  His words grated on her patience, her face filled with heat. Never in her life had anyone accused her of being delicate. “There is nothing wrong with my eyesight and I often work alone in the library.” At this moment she wanted to commit murder, on him. “The senator lay in a pool of blood on the floor at Mr. Blackwood’s feet. I’m not sure but I’d say he was dead.”

  Claudia reached over and put a steadying hand on hers. Laura gripped it to keep from lunging at the pompous ass.

  At that moment the lieutenant looked past them and outside his office. “Ah, here’s Officer Howard. Perhaps he’ll have some news for us.”

  Laura and Claudia turned to watch a serious young man stride through the room full of desks. When they’d been ushered into the lieutenant’s office, he’d insisted on the ladies and Henderson remaining at the station while he sent the younger officer with two constables to the library. Even though the image of the senator bleeding on the floor haunted her every time she closed her eyes, Laura had protested that they should go with the police. Now the officer was back and the grim set of his lips suggested she wasn’t going to like what he’d found.

  “Well, Howard? Was there a dead body?”

  “No sir.” He looked at Laura with sympathy in his pale blue eyes as he handed her back her key to the library. “Not even a sign of a scuffle. Everything seemed to be in order.”

  Laura blinked at his words and her breath caught on a gasp. “But that can’t be. I know what I saw.”

  “Of course you do, Miss Melbourne,” the lieutenant said. His right brow arched in mock sincerity, he stood. “Perhaps your nerves just got the better of you. Why don’t you go home and have a nice cup of tea. I’m sure things will look better to you in the morning.”

  The fool thought she was simply a hysterical female.

  Clutching Claudia’s hand, she stood. “I have never had a case of nervousness, Lieutenant. I assure you the senator was murdered in Goldberg’s library tonight. When roll call is taken at the Senate tomorrow for the trade bill, he will not be answering.”

  “I have to agree, ma’am, he won’t,” Officer Howard said, his demeanor more sympathetic.

  “You believe me?”

  “Howard, don’t encourage this woman’s wild ravings,” the lieutenant grumbled, moving to escort them out of his office.

  “I took the liberty of going to the senator’s townhouse, sir.”

  The lieutenant turned on his underling. “Don’t tell me you bothered an important man as the senator with this nonsense?” he blustered.

  Despite his superior’s attempt to intimidate him, Officer Howard remained where he was with his gaze still on Laura. He shook his head. “No sir. Senator Anderson wasn’t home. According to his butler, the senator is apparently out of town for the next month.”

  * * * * *

  For the first time in her life, Laura wondered if she’d lost her mind. “You do believe me, don’t you?” she asked again as they rode in the carriage back to Claudia’s home.

  “Of course I do,” Claudia said without hesitation.

  Her faith alone raised Laura’s spirits.

  “The problem is, I also believe that young officer.” Claudia squeezed her hand to soften her words. “He was very convincing that he’d thoroughly searched the library and found nothing.”

  Laura sighed. “I know. That’s what’s so puzzling. How can he be telling the truth when I know what happened?”

  Just then, horses’ hooves sounded on the cobblestones next to the carriage and Henderson slowed to a stop. Laura and Claudia exchanged worried looks, then strained to hear what the two low male voices were saying.

  “What is it, Henderson?” Claudia asked as someone moved behind the carriage.

  The door opened and both women gasped as the young Officer Howard climbed in and seated himself across from them.

  “Do forgive me, ladies, but I’ve taken the liberty of speaking with your servant and asked him to divert you from your destination.”

  “We were simply headed home,” Claudia said in her most haughty tone.

  She’s as scared as I am. Laura gripped her friend’s hand.

  “Yes, I was well aware of that.” The young man’s lips lifted in a gently reassuring smile as the carriage began moving again, heading in the opposite direction. “But if you’ll listen to my reasons, you may agree this is the wiser course of action.”

  “May I ask where you’re taking us?” Her nerves frayed as if sawed with a dull blade, Laura hoped her faith in the young man wasn’t misplaced.

  “First, may I say that I believe your story regarding Senator Anderson’s death. When I was at the library there appeared to be a dark stain beneath one corner of a rug as if someone had tried to clean it.”

  Startled, Laura inhaled quickly. “Why didn’t you tell that to your superior? It would’ve confirmed my story. He would’ve arrested Mr. Blackwood.”

  Officer Howard leaned forward, his legs spread wide and his elbows on his thighs, the street lamps casting light over his sincere features as they drove through town. “That is exactly what neither you nor I wish to do. Lieutenant Chandler is a law enforcer only. He doesn’t have the skills to investigate a crime of this magnitude.”

  “I’m not sure I understand your meaning,” Laura replied, a shiver of dread sliding down her spine.

  “Blackwood went to quite an effort to keep this murder a secret. The stain on the rug was small and looked as if someone had tried to clean it completely. The average person wouldn’t have known what they were looking at.”

  “And you do?” For a young man, he seemed to have great assurance in his personal skills of observation.

  “I have some training, yes.” He gave her a small smile. “But you must also remember that Mr. Blackwood is a member of the British Embassy here in Washington. We can’t simply barge in and accuse him of a murder without sound evidence. With no body, a servant who claims the senator is out of town, no weapon and not even a scrap of paper to confirm your story, all we would do is tip our hand to the murderer.”

  Laura sighed. “I understand. It would be the word of a man, a politically connected man, against me, a woman and a spinster who was probably just having a case of hysterics.”

  Claudia gripped her hand. They both knew their status as women, and even worse thirty-year-old spinsters, made them second-rate citizens in most men’s eyes. “What has this to do with us not returning to my home?”

  Noah leaned back in his seat. “I believe there is more to this than just a simple murder. The room was much too neat and all of this week’s newspapers were missing from the stacks of periodicals in that area.”

  “Those would’ve been the ones the senator asked me to get him just before I started closing the library for the night.” She wasn’t losing her min
d after all.

  “You did say there were papers beneath him.” Claudia nodded, supporting her story too.

  Officer Howard nodded. “Exactly. If they were beneath the senator, then they would’ve been disposed of with the body. Which is probably why they’re missing. How much time would you say passed between when you left the library and you arrived at the police house?”

  The young man grew serious once more. That alone sent Laura’s fears on edge again. “I’d say a little more than an hour? Why?”

  “That was very little time for one person to dispose of the body and clean the crime area so thoroughly.”

  “You believe there’s more than just Mr. Blackwood behind the senator’s death? That would make his death a conspiracy. But why?”

  Officer Howard shook his head. “That, I can’t answer. However, because whoever was behind this has no qualms about murdering a well-known and respected member of the government, I fear it may not be safe for you, Miss Melbourne, to return home.”

  “I had planned to stay with Claudia tonight.”

  “You misunderstand, ma’am. I believe you need to disappear completely from Washington, at least for a while.”

  “And where exactly are we headed tonight?”

  “To an inn on the outskirts of Alexandria. Actually, it was my family home before the war. It’s the only place that would be safe on such short notice. No one could possibly think to look for you there.”

  Laura exchanged a look with Claudia. “Why do you think I’m in danger?”

  “Because you are the only witness to what is quite possibly an assassination.”

  Laura sucked in a shaky breath and fingered the locket at her throat.

  * * * * *

  Seated in the inn’s dining room the next morning, Laura felt as if she hadn’t been to bed at all. She hadn’t been able to close her eyes, despite knowing Henderson and Officer Howard slept in the common room with loaded weapons and Claudia slept in the room next door.

  “I don’t understand why I must disappear and Claudia is safe to return home. Shouldn’t she come with me?” she asked, toying with her cup of tea.

  “It’s much easier for one woman to hide rather than two,” Officer Howard said between bites of his breakfast. “Besides, Miss Davis isn’t a witness and if I know my superior, only your name will go on the file, which he’ll label as a false claim by a hysterical female. Anyone snooping for information will have no idea she or Mr. Henderson accompanied you to see him.”

  “I suppose we should thank the pompous fool for that much,” she muttered, then sipped her tea.

  Claudia covered her lips with her hand and Officer Howard grinned.

  A moment later, Laura sighed and stared at Claudia. “He’s correct. I can’t stay with you. Blackwood’s bound to discover that I might’ve gone to your house. Aunt Ellen will tell him, if she hasn’t done so already. I’ll not put you in any more danger.” She took Claudia’s hand in hers. “I’m so glad you’ve had Henderson living in the house since your father died, especially now with a murderer on the loose.”

  “I agree, Miss Laura,” the usually reserved servant agreed as he approached the table. “If I might add, I also think I have a possible solution to the problem of where you might go.”

  “Henderson, have you been eavesdropping?” Claudia asked.

  Chagrin crossed his face. “Any butler worth his salt would keep himself abreast of a situation that might require his service, miss.”

  “What solution have you found?”

  “I believe Miss Laura would do well as…a mail-order bride.”

  “What?” Mouth and eyes wide open, Laura gawked at the older man.

  “If I may?” He motioned to the empty chair.

  “Do be seated, Henderson.” Claudia nodded.

  As he sat, he opened the papers he had in his hand. “I have a much younger sister who works as an upstairs maid at the Hotel Clarion in Baltimore. It is a fine establishment, ma’am, but I’m afraid my sister tends to be less discreet in her job than she should, often sending me bits of gossip and anything she thinks is odd or interesting. Recently she sent me a letter, which I retrieved this morning among other things, apprising me of a gentleman who is trying to secure a mail-order bride for his brother. Apparently, the gentleman is having difficulties finding the correct type of woman to fill the position. Allow me to read the newspaper advertisement to you both.

  “Needed, young lady of gentle persuasion willing to enter into a contract of marriage to Colorado farmer. Must be of good health, educated and willing to work. Interviews now being conducted at Hotel Clarion, suite 145. Contact Mr. Cantrell.”

  Chapter Two

  In the Whaler’s Reef, a waterfront tavern, Nigel Blackwood tapped the side of his barely touched glass of beer with one well-manicured finger as he waited for Otis to meet him. The cretin frequented the bar most days for his usual breakfast of whiskey.

  One thing they had in abundance in this backward country was minions willing to do just about anything for cash or whiskey. Unfortunately Otis, his best tracker and most anonymous lackey, required both.

  Nigel leaned into the shadows and watched the room. The night’s activities had stimulated his senses beyond his wildest imagination. He and his partners had planned for weeks and now, with the senator’s elimination, their scheme was falling into place. Everything had gone like clockwork—except for the damn librarian.

  Tamping down his frustration, Nigel pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the time—nearly ten.

  He ground his teeth, then took a sip of the tepid beer. One simple woman had put a major kink in the works. He’d assumed she left with the rest of the patrons. He should’ve gone after her, but he’d had to dispose of the body as planned. Now she was a loose end he needed to tie up before things progressed much further. So far his efforts to locate the woman had netted nothing.

  The minute the little Jewish man opened his library this morning, he’d been there inquiring after the librarian. In order to garner the location of her abode, he’d acted like a smitten suitor. The act had stretched his abilities, since even though he’d seen her on many occasions, all he could remember about the woman was her large size. A shudder ran through him. A woman should be thin, never the size of a cow.

  At the boarding house where she supposedly lived, her aunt had little in kind words for the librarian. She hadn’t come home at all last night, leaving the woman to cook and clean, apparently something the aunt didn’t like doing.

  So his witness had flown the coop. She hadn’t had time to leave town, and no one by her name had purchased a ticket on any of the early trains at the station, which was where he’d spent the next half hour. The more his frustration grew, the more he wanted to lash out at something. And the longer he waited to catch her, the more determined he was to take that frustration out on her before she died.

  Across the room, the door opened and in shuffled Otis. Finally.

  Nigel lifted one finger, catching the slovenly dressed man’s attention, then withdrew into the darkness of the corner.

  “Hey, boss. Gotcher message,” Otis said as he flopped into the chair opposite. A bottle of whiskey sat at the table along with a questionably clean shot glass. With a shaky hand, he poured himself a drink and slammed it back, then gave a deep sigh followed by a hoarse cough. He poured a second glass to sip. “You need me for a job?”

  How he wished he could do without these cretins, but Otis could search for the woman while he tended to other matters. He slipped a folded piece of paper across the table. “I want you to go to the train station and watch for a woman by this name to purchase a ticket. Follow her and wire back where she goes.”

  “It’ll cost yer some.”

  Of course. Didn’t loyalty always cost something? He slid a purse full of coins across the table.

  Otis pocketed the pouch. “What’s she look like?”

  “Plain, fat, brown hair. Traveling alone.”

  Otis gave a
leering sneer. “Too bad, I likes ’em with some curves and not much meat on ’em.”

  Nigel leaned in close so the man wouldn’t miss his meaning. “Do not approach her, do not touch her. I simply want her found and followed. Do I make myself clear?”

  Otis lost the sneer, nodded and downed his drink in one gulp.

  * * * * *

  “You think I should become a mail-order bride?” Laura asked, studying the advertisement.

  “It would have several benefits, ma’am.” Officer Howard nodded as if the idea held great merit. “You would have a place to hide from your pursuer. You would also have a new name, a legal one, which would conceal your identity further. Given the distance between Colorado and Washington, this Mr. Blackwood would have little reason to follow you there.”

  “There is no guarantee that I’ll be the best candidate.” Laura looked to her friend for some sign of support.

  “Going to Baltimore for the interview will at least buy you some time and distance.” Claudia took her hand, concern crinkling the corners of her eyes. “Besides, who’s to say you wouldn’t be the best candidate? You meet all the requirements listed. You’re of good health and very well educated from working in the library.”

  Laura snorted a harsh laugh. “And the good Lord knows I’m not afraid of hard work after living with Aunt Ellen.”

  “See,” Claudia said, a smile easing her worried countenance. “You’re the perfect wife for this man.”

  Henderson cleared his throat. “Miss Laura, I believe if you agree to becoming the wife of a Westerner, you may find a benefit you hadn’t counted on.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “I’ve done some reading on the subject of the average Western man.” He pulled a small book from his pocket, showed them then slipped it back inside. “They are well armed and don’t hesitate to protect their families when need be.”

  Laura refrained from smiling. Who knew Henderson had a passion for reading dime novels? Some she’d probably even written.

  “Well, if you think it’s best, I suppose I could at least go for the interview. I’m not sure I want to trade my life here for a husband who may not want me or my problems.” Despite what the other three thought, she had no illusions. If there were any younger, prettier and more slender women applying, she wouldn’t be selected. Then another thought occurred to her. “What about my clothes and my belongings? My husband would surely wonder if I arrive with nothing but the clothes on my back.”