The Innocents (The Innocents Mystery Series Book 1)

by C. A. Asbrey

  Pitted hoofmarks filled with water from the cold rain caused the rich musky essence of pure horse to intensify and steam beneath her. She turned her collar against the weather, rain stinging her face, and rounded the next bend. She heard the explosive blast of gunpowder at the same time she felt burning pain in her left arm. The velocity propelled her backward off her mount and battered her to the stony ground. The horse bolted in panic while she lay dazed. She blinked, moaning in pain at her first movement, before she lay still, testing her limbs one by one for damage. A pair of boots squelched up beside her head and a man crouched beside her.

  “Jeasus, Sam. It’s a woman.”

  “A woman?” Another voice drifted from behind. “On her own? What the hell is she doin’ all the way out here?”

  The gruff reply grated on her already tense nerves. “How should I know, Sam? Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

  A toe prodded at her wounded arm, causing her to groan out loud. “Who are ya? Why’re ya followin’ us?”

  Her mind ran as best it could through the fog of pain and fear. Perhaps they couldn’t interrogate her if they thought she couldn’t speak English? She lapsed into Gaelic.

  “Tha thu cho duaichnidh ri èarr àirde de a' coisich deas damh.”

  “Huh? What’s she saying?”

  The burly one called Frank had a voice she recognized. “Name?” He kicked her again. “I need your name.”

  “Thalla gu taigh na galla.”

  “Did she hit her head? She’s talkin’ gibberish. Is she a native? It ain’t Spanish.”

  A hand grabbed her hair and Frank’s voice snarled in her ear. “Name, girl. I want your name.”

  “Was she followin’ us?” Sam asked. “I dunno. Throw her on a horse. We’ll question her when we get to the cabin.” Frank stood. “Damn it. This is all we need.”

  “Just put a bullet in her head,” Sam growled. “We ain’t got time for this.”

  “Don’t be so hasty,” another voice drifted over. “We just got flung out of a whore house. A woman might be handy to have around if we’ve gotta lie low for a while.”

  Yeah,” another agreed. “And it ain’t gonna help us if anyone finds her body. They might start searchin’. Bring her. You can shoot her anywhere, Sam, and we might as well have some fun.”

  Rough arms dragged her from the ground. The pain shot through her arm and across her shoulders, with no consideration of the best position. She was pushed face-down over a horse as a man mounted behind her. This was bad. Very bad. It was looking like she would have to use one of the most extreme survival techniques taught to the female agents. Would it work?

  Chapter Three

  She struggled against the pain to stay upright on the wooden seat, but she forced herself to focus and do what she needed to do to survive. Frank glowered at his soaking clothes in dismay, brushing his hand over the wet patch cascading over his shoulder.

  He glared at her in disgust. “That filthy bitch has wet herself! I’m covered in piss from carryin’ her in.”

  The little man stepped forward. “She’s terrified. She’s shakin’, poor thing.” He crouched and yelled into her face. “We ain’t gonna hurt ya! What’s yer name?”

  She fixed him with glittering eyes, brimming with tears and continued to tremble. At least the act worked on one of them. It was a start, but it was no time to let up. She replied with a deliberate tremor in her voice. “Beag diabhal.”

  “I think she’s called Beg or somethin’? What kind of name is that? Aw, she’s got real pretty eyes under all that mud. I say we bandage her arm and she could be real good fun tomorrow.”

  “Why wait? We ain’t nursemaids. I don’t care if she’s hurtin’.” Frank leaned in close. “What the hell language is that?”

  She bowed her head, a thick curtain of hair sweeping over her face providing just enough cover for her to stick a finger deep into her throat under the guise of raising her hand to her sobbing lips.

  This was no time to be cautious. She thrust it deep, setting off her gag reflex, making her guts churn and boil. Her stomach convulsed and the contents fermented and rose until they reached her gullet in a burning acid swirl. She removed her finger and opened her mouth, and vomited straight in Frank’s face, keeping her hair in the way.

  She needed some of this precious vomit over her too. The words of the woman who trained her rang in her mind. “Always remember that letting loose your body fluids, no matter how base and disgusting, is a last defense against rape. Men are visual and sensory creatures and are more easily disgusted than the female. It will kill their sexual urges immediately.”

  How right she was.

  He jumped back in revulsion, his clothes splattered with bile and half-digested gouts of food on top of the already-cooling urine already soaking through his clothes. He pointed mutely at the woman sitting in piss-soaked clothes, draped with matted hair which stuck to her with regurgitated puke. A speechless Frank stood dripping in vomit, but it didn’t last long. “Ya dirty whore!”

  He pulled back his hand and backhanded her across the face. She tumbled to the wooden floor with a cry. He wiped his soiled hand before it crept to his gun, but the little one grabbed his arm.

  “Wait, Frank. Let’s stick her in the barn. She’ll clean. It’s a waste. A couple of buckets of water’ll get that off.”

  “Filthy damned bitch,” Frank shook him off and turned away. “Get her outta my sight, Will, or I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

  Will picked her up, holding her at arm’s length and walked her over to the door. “She’ll clean up real good. You’ll see, Frank. No need to rush. We got time.”

  The barn door closed behind her and she heard the padlock click. She stopped shivering and raised her skirts to remove her wet drawers before she ripped out a huge section of petticoat and bandaged her injured arm as best she could.

  She could always put them on again if she heard them coming. The vomit would have to stay. It might be disgusting, but she needed it as a necessary shield from unwanted attentions. If they were going to kill her anyway, she had no intention in helping them use her first.

  She felt her way around the building in the poor light, but try as she might, she could not find a way out. The building was solid. She sighed and dropped into the straw in resignation. She’d have to wait until daylight. It was best to get sleep while she could and take stock in daylight.

  Her hands probed the straw and gathered it into a pile before she nestled herself with a huff of pain. It was time to face the practicalities. She’d get further if she rested.

  ♦◊♦

  Pearl Dubois sailed through the patrons of her sporting house like a galleon in full sail, her yellow hair a beacon of welcome and her well-upholstered frame a walking hug. There were a select few she didn’t mind showing her softer side to.

  “Hi’ya, boys,” she chortled, her jiggling bosom mirrored in the fat bulging over the back of her ruthlessly-laced corseted bodice. “Long time no see.”

  She stepped back to admire them, their casual riding clothes showing off their slim hips and long legs as they towered over her. “If you two boys get any handsomer you’ll need to give up crime. You sure stand out in a crowd.” She smiled at the fair man. “I always find it hard to believe you two are uncle and nephew.”

  “There are only eight years between us, Pearl,” Jake gave her an affectionate squeeze, “but it’s a wonder I don’t look like Methuselah, lookin’ after this ’un most of my life.”

  “With a little help, Jake. You came here when you jumped off the orphan train. Anyone else would’ve sent you back.” She glanced between one to the other with something close to maternal pride. “But look at you now, all growed and twice as spicy as a bubblin’ pan of chili.”

  Nat embraced her, a dimpled smile on his face. “We haven’t been in this neck of the woods for a good while. You got somewhere private we can talk?”

  She flicked up a penciled-in eyebrow as she gestured with her head to
ward the backroom with a knowing twinkle. “Sure. I’ve been half-expectin’ you. You boys hungry?”

  “Always Pearl. You know that,” grinned Jake.

  She led the way, a choking cloud of perfume drifting behind her. “It’d be nice if you boys could just make a social call once in a while for old time’s sake. I never see you unless you want somethin’.” She pulled open the door, a smile of resignation etched through the heavy makeup. “But I guess you always want somethin’. When you turned up here tryin’ to keep Nat out of the orphanage, you was no more’n twelve and he were just a little dot of a four year old. It pure broke my heart, it did, but ever since you’ve been like two baby birds with their mouths open whenever they see the mama bird.”

  “You’re right, Pearl. We’re real busy. We should make time to see you,” Nat’s eyes glittered with innocent regret. “I know we owe you.”

  “Yeah, you owe me, but somehow that turns into me givin’.” A smiling Jake held the velvet-brown gaze of the dusky woman just outside until the door slid closed.

  “You’re a natural mother, Pearl. That’s how. You’re family.” He turned. “You know we’ve always got your back. If you ever need us, we’ll be here.”

  She slipped into a chair, her statuesque bosom thrust forward. “Yeah, I do. I guess you’re here about the fake Innocents? They were here, you know. I chucked them out. I’ll tell you what I can.”

  Blue eyes glittered in her direction before Jake took a seat. “Thanks.”

  Nat’s long fingers slid a wedge of notes over the polished surface of the table as he held her gaze. “For your time, darlin’. Think of it as a gift.”

  Her plump fingers reached out and grasped the notes while a note of surprise played in her voice. “Payin’ this time? You mean business.”

  Nat sat back and tilted his hat to the back of his head with his forefinger. “We sure do. Someone’ll swing for that death and I need to make sure it’s none of ours. We don’t kill.”

  “They looked like trouble from the start, and were flush with money. Too flush. As soon as the law came askin’ about a gang who killed a guard I showed them the door. I didn’t know who they were when I let them in, boys. Honest, I didn’t.”

  “Got any names?” asked Jake.

  “There was a Will. Will Patterson. He was a Texas boy, judgin’ from his accent. He was the little one who took a fancy to Monica and was talkative. There was a Sam and a Frank, too, who were in charge. They weren’t so friendly. Eight in total. The new girl would have known more, but she ran off with the gang that very same night,” her eyes brightened with her recollection. “She asked quite a few questions about you two though, seemed quite fascinated by you.”

  “New girl?” asked Nat, his interest piqued. “What did she want to know?”

  “Yeah, light brown hair, kinda mousey. Irish, sounded like she was right off the boat.” She shrugged. “She didn’t fit in here but she worked hard. Ran off that night. Some are shocked too easy,” she let out a bellowing laugh as the men smiled in unison at her contagious mischief, “but maybe she wasn’t as innocent as I thought to run off with them lot.”

  Nat’s brow creased. “What did she ask?”

  “If we knew you, did you come around here often, what you look like; anythin’ she could find out. We told her nothin’. I guess she had a yearnin’ for a bad boy.”

  She stretched into an unladylike, gaping yawn as she leant back in her seat. “There’s one more thing. Word has it men have been askin’ questions about you two all over the county. All kinds of men. It made me wonder if these fellas were a ploy to draw you out, so you should be layin’ low. Don’t do any jobs for a while.”

  She nodded to the woman opening the door. “The steaks are here for you. I’ll get Monica to give you the full rundown on their descriptions while you eat.”

  Nat flashed a meaningful glance at Jake. “I don’t like this. She’s been asking questions at the same time as another gang pretended to be us, and then disappears with them. Men asking the same questions all over the county? She’s part of this.”

  Jake nodded. “I’ll ask a few questions myself. See what I can find out about her. You can concentrate on how they know the best payroll to hit.”

  Nat flicked up an eyebrow. “So you question all the women and I head off to the railway office to check their files? You think that’s a good deal?”

  Jake grinned. “You’re the one who’s great at breakin’ into places. I’m more of a people person.”

  “Ya think? How do you work that out? I’m great with people.”

  “Great at bossin’ them around. You’re the break-in expert, and that information means looking at files in locked rooms. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

  “It’s cake. What else are you supposed to do with it?”

  Jake swung back on his chair a smile tugging at his lips. “You hate it when I’m right, don’t you?”

  The dark eyes glittered with humor. “Only when you get a better deal than me.”

  “Trust me.” Jake gave his nephew a wry smile. “You’re too sneaky for it to happen too often.”

  “Sneaky? Me?” Devilment twinkled in the dark eyes. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  ♦◊♦

  Abigail came to in the dank, rancid darkness and groaned against her thumping headache. The burning ache in her arm exploded into a sharp pain at her first movement. She swallowed the rising ball of bile in her throat, trying not to vomit, but would it make the surroundings any less revolting? Was there anything in her stomach other than burning acid, anyway?

  She propped herself against a stall while trying to support her wounded arm. It was far more agonizing now that the adrenaline had subsided. The bullet had grazed the skin as it whipped past, and she knew she would soon heal, as long as infection didn’t set in any further.

  Daylight filtered through the cracks in the planks and illuminated the scene in a striped gloaming, lighting a tin plate filled with brown mush a couple of feet away. Someone had been here and she hadn’t even noticed. She kicked herself for not being able to stay vigilant.

  She collapsed back into the straw devoid of energy, her skin pricking with sweat. One peek behind the torn sleeve to look at the angry wound made her sigh in dismay. The infection polluted her system and her fever made the heat, the pain, and the stench even more unbearable. Her resolve to search around the building to find a way out dissipated with every breath. She closed her eyes and slumped into an uneasy lull.

  Soon, she was beyond reason. No one tended to her other than to bring brackish water or leave more repulsive food which remained untouched. She sank further and further into the darkness. At least the deep, silent, velvet-blackness of total oblivion was a relief from the pain.

  ♦◊♦

  “Are you sure this is the place?” Nat whispered.

  Oso nodded. “We watched the place for hours. There ain’t another cabin with more’n a couple of men in it for twenty miles. There’s eight of them, just like you said. It’s gotta be them.”

  “I came back to the meetin’ place to get you, Nat,” Hank gestured toward his Mexican friend. “Oso stayed and watched while I fetched ya.”

  Oso peered out from behind the tree. “They ain’t left the place other’n to use the outhouse or go to the barn. They’s all still there, boss. Did we find the right outfit? Is they the ones that shot the guard?”

  “I think so. The Irish girl from Pearl’s place took off at the same time as them and the horse she stole was found wandering in this area.” Nat stared at the cabin. “There are men in this area searching for The Innocents and they got as far as Bannen. They’ve now attached a murder to our name. We’ll swing if we don’t sort this fast. This gang happening at the same time as the area being swamped by men asking questions looks like a dirty conspiracy at a high level. We need to break it.”

  Jake Conroy crouched low behind the well with his gun drawn, signalling with his free hand for C
huck and Melvin to keep down and stay silent. The door to the cabin opened and a tall, thin man with a shark fin nose strode out carrying a bucket.

  “Looks like he’s headed toward the well,” Melvin hissed through teeth like a broken piano. “Jake’s there.”

  “I can see that,” Nat muttered. “Get ready. They’ll know we’re here as soon as Jake strikes.”

  “Are you sure this is the right gang?” hissed Chuck. “They could be anyone.”

  “How many gangs of men are there in these woods who hide at the sight of anyone coming near?” Nat demanded.

  “Well, there’s us—”

  “We’re outlaws, you numbskull. It’s what we do.” Nat rolled his eyes. “Now keep your eyes on the cabin. I’ll cover Jake.”

  The stranger grabbed the well rope and hooked it on the bucket, oblivious to the gunman sneaking up behind him. The sound of a metallic click behind his right ear made him let go and the receptacle dropped into the echoing depths, the handle whipping round and round until the bucket hit the water at the bottom.

  “Not one word, friend. Get those hands up.”

  The man nodded, thrusting his arms in the air and stared straight ahead with his dun-colored eyes. Jake drew the man backward, toward his compatriots hidden in the bushes. “This way. Stay silent.”

  “Are you the law?”

  “I told you to stay silent.”

  The door to the cabin opened, “Hey, Sam. Can you—” The mustached man blinked in disbelief at his friend being held at gunpoint. “Jees!”

  The door slammed and urgent shouts and orders erupted in the cabin. Jake tightened his grasp on the thin man’s arm and dragged him over to the rest of the outlaws hiding in the bushes, using him as a human shield all the way. He threw him to Jesse and Hank as soon as he gained cover.