Rico (The Rock Creek Six Book 3)

by Lori Handeland

  “You’re kicking me out?”

  “Jed was already here. He told me. You’d better hurry.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “You’re not even going to ask me to stay?”

  “What would be the point of that? This is Rico.”

  He kissed her, hard and fast. “I love you.”

  “I know. And you love him, too. Bring him back.”

  “We always do.” Sullivan continued packing.

  “Will Nate and Daniel come?”

  He tossed his saddlebag over his shoulder. “Why wouldn’t they?”

  “Daniel was pretty mad at Rico.”

  “Cash is always pretty mad at someone, and it’s usually Rico.”

  “He said the six was two.”

  “He says a lot of things. He’ll be there. I’d bet my life on it.” She bit her lip, and he paused, not wanting to leave her when she was so uncertain. “You think four isn’t as good as six?”

  “I think any one of you is as good as ten. But I wouldn’t bet your life on it.”

  He dropped the bags and pulled her into his arms one more time. “It’ll be all right. Rico needs me, and after all...” They both sighed.

  “We can’t just leave him there,” Eden finished.

  Chapter 19

  Carrie and Johnny nearly made it to Ranbourne.

  They’d packed clothes and food, written their false note, and freed Gizzard. The latter had nearly made Carrie cry, but she knew she couldn’t leave him all cooped up with no one to love him. So free he was, and free he’d stay, though he’d looked at her with as sad a face as a lizard got when she put him by the river and walked away.

  Borrowing the horses was so easy Carrie wondered why people didn’t borrow them all the time. The boy who ran the stable was snoring louder than a thunderstorm. He never so much as moved atop his bed of hay as she and Johnny led their mounts outside.

  They rode all night and into the day; then, just as Ranbourne appeared on the horizon in front of them, three riders appeared on the horizon behind them.

  Carrie knew who they were, so there was no point in trying to hide. She and Johnny pulled to a stop.

  “How do you think they found us out so fast?” she asked.

  Johnny shrugged. He might be able to talk, but he didn’t talk much.

  Mr. Reese, Mr. Rourke, and Sheriff Sullivan reined in. All three stared at Carrie and Johnny as if they were ghosts.

  “What are you two doin’ here?” Mr. Rourke demanded.

  “You didn’t come after us?”

  Mr. Reese rubbed his eyes. “We’re going after Rico.”

  “So are we. We can all go together.”

  “Like hell!” Mr. Rourke snapped. The sheriff sent him a glare, which made Carrie giggle. As if she hadn’t heard that word before.

  “You turn right around and go home,” Mr. Reese said. “We’ll bring Rico back.”

  “We aren’t worried about Rico; we’re worried about Lily.”

  The three exchanged glances. “Why?” the sheriff asked.

  Carrie looked at Johnny, who nodded. “Lily didn’t kill that man. Johnny did. But only because he was the baddest man. He hurt Johnny, and he was going to hurt Lily, too.”

  “How do you know that?” Mr. Reese asked.

  “Johnny said so.”

  Mr. Reese’s mouth tightened the way it always did when one of the Sutton twins acted bratty. “Go home, Carrie.”

  “No, sir. We love Lily, and we love Rico, and we’re going to tell the truth and make things right, and nothin’ you can say or do will stop us. Right, Johnny?”

  “R—r-right.”

  All three men stared at Johnny as if his horse had just spoken.

  “How long have you been chatting with Carrie?” Mr. Reese asked.

  “Just since yesterday,” Carrie answered. “Lily told him not to, ‘cause—”

  Mr. Reese narrowed his eyes. “Let him answer for himself.”

  “He don’t like to talk unless he absolutely has to. It’s hard for him, and people are mean when you’re different. So I said I’d do the talking.”

  “Well, he might have to do the talking in New Orleans.”

  Carrie grinned. “We can go?”

  Mr. Reese looked at the sky as if he wished God would help him out. “You can go.”

  * * *

  Funny how New Orleans hadn’t changed, even though Lily had. She never thought of herself as Betty anymore. Betty she had left back here.

  The city had flourished for centuries. Why would it change now? What began as a small outpost of France in the New World had been ceded back and forth between France and Spain for decades, leading to a rich Creole culture. With the sale of Louisiana to America, New Orleans became the largest southern city. But she was never truly of the South. New Orleans was of France.

  Lily, Rico, and Noah Russell crossed Canal Street into the American side of town, where Lily had always lived. When the Americans came to New Orleans, they settled in what became known as the Protestant section.

  Their houses were American, too, set back from the street and shaded with large, sweeping trees. They made up the Garden District and turned Canal Street into a hostile border between two worlds. Some Creoles boasted they had never crossed that street in their lives and they never would.

  Exhausted after traveling so many miles, Lily brightened at the thought that she might sleep in a bed that night. Though her bed could be in a jail, at least it wouldn’t be on the ground.

  Lily sighed. She’d rather sleep on the ground next to Rico than in a feather bed without him.

  On the trail, they’d grown closer—the two of them against the world, or at least Russell. To be truthful, the detective had been nothing but polite. He’d gotten them here, as he’d said he would. Now he’d no doubt turn her over to the authorities then disappear.

  Up ahead, Lily saw R.W.’s place, the Hideaway. Now that she knew he’d had a wife stashed somewhere, the name made a whole lot of sense.

  Russell dismounted in front of the saloon.

  “Why are we here?” Lily asked. “I figured you’d take me to jail.”

  “Don’t give him ideas, querida.”

  “I was hired by Mrs. Ward, not the law of New Orleans. When I wired ahead to say I’d found Miss Lillian, I was told to bring her here.”

  At the Hideaway Lily had been treated as property. She’d hoped that once she made her escape, she would never have to see the place again. Just went to show that what you hoped for rarely happened. She should have remembered that lesson from her mother.

  Lily slid from her horse then hung on to the saddle when her knees buckled. Rico was there in an instant to hold her up. Just the warmth of his hand at her waist steadied her enough to stay on her feet.

  “I do not like this,” he murmured.

  “Me, either. But let’s get it over with.”

  Rico took Lily’s arm, and they joined the detective at the door. She’d often thought of this place as her own private hell. Only the music and Johnny had kept her sane. Now she would go back without the comfort of music, without the calming surety of Johnny’s presence.

  “¿Lilita?”

  What she saw in Rico’s gaze gave her the courage to walk through that door again. A roomful of dour faces turned toward Lily, and from the rustle and hiss that rolled in her direction, she had already been found guilty.

  “What the hell is this?” Rico demanded.

  Russell appeared as confused as they were. He crossed to the gray-haired, sour-lipped woman seated next to the dour man in black.

  “Mrs. Ward? Judge Oatley? What’s going on here?”

  R.W.’s wife was seated next to the judge? Doom settled over Lily like fog over a stormy sea.

  “Is this the slut who killed my husband?”

  Lily remained impassive. She had expected no less.

  “Shut your filthy mouth, lady, or I’ll shut it for you,” Rico said.

  Lily put her hand on his arm. “Never mind
.”

  “Is this your latest lover? I should have known a woman like you would be on to the next in a heartbeat. He looks a little young for you, Betty. Was R.W. getting old? Was that why you killed him?”

  “I didn’t touch him.”

  “From what I hear, you touched him often, and you’re going to pay for it. Let’s get on with this, Sherman.”

  “I brought her here for a fair trial,” Russell said. “This looks like a vigilante committee.”

  “I paid you to bring her back. What I do with her afterward is none of your business. As Sherman Oatley is a judge of this city, the trial will be legal.” Mrs. Ward smiled. “Fair is a matter of opinion.”

  * * *

  The mockery of a trail droned on and on. Since they’d been unprepared for what awaited them, Lily had no lawyer. One was appointed for her. The fellow appeared to have studied law as much as Rico had studied the priesthood.

  Rico could have gone and hired a lawyer from the myriad offices uptown, but that lawyer would have known nothing about the case, either, and from the looks of Mrs. Ward’s pet judge, it would make no difference.

  Rico refused to leave Lily’s side. He had a superstitious fear that if he did he would never see her again. So he sat there as witness after witness was called to say that Lily, make that Betty, had not cared for R.W. she’d merely endured him. She was a schemer, a thief, an ambitious entertainer who had used Ward to get where she wanted and then killed him. With this many witnesses, the trial must be costing the widow most of her fortune.

  “Miss Lillian, you say the last time you saw Mr. Ward was in the saloon?”

  Lily nodded. She’d only answered the question ten times from ten different angles.

  “Then how do you explain the argument that was heard? Why did Mr. Ward shout your name? How do you explain the knife wound in his heart?”

  “I can’t explain it. I wasn’t there.”

  “I have here the signed testimony of a Dr. Landsdowne, and I quote: ‘The knife wound was one inch in width, leading to the assumption that a weapon of similar width was used in the murder.’ Do you own such a knife, Miss Lillian?”

  “Shit,” Rico muttered.

  “Yes,” Lily answered.

  The prosecutor moved in for the kill. “The force of the wound indicates a murderer of lesser stature than Mr. Ward. A woman, perhaps.”

  Her lips tightened, but she said nothing more.

  “Come, now, Miss Lillian, if you confess, perhaps you won’t hang.”

  Lily gave him a withering look that said what she thought of that lie.

  A commotion at the back of the room drew everyone’s attention. Rico groaned at the sight of his five friends. Couldn’t they trust him to handle things for himself?

  “Rico!” Carrie ran down the aisle and jumped into his lap. Johnny followed behind.

  “I told you to stay home, Johnny,” Lily said. You were supposed to be watching Carrie.”

  “He watched me. All the way here.” Carrie hugged Rico so tightly he had trouble breathing. He pulled her arms from around his throat, set her on her feet, and stood to meet the others.

  “I can handle this,” he said.

  The four men at Reese’s back appeared jumpy, and their gazes flicked about the room as if searching for someone. There was more going on here than met the eye.

  “I don’t think you can, Kid.”

  Anger flashed. Would Reese never believe he could take care of himself?

  “I’ll get Lily out of this.”

  “I have no doubt you will.” The pleasure that rippled over Rico at those words dissolved on Reese’s next. “That’s not why we came. Have you seen anything funny? Noticed anyone watching you?”

  “What do I have to do with it?”

  “That’s what we came here to find out.”

  “Judge, clear the room of these gunfighters,” Mrs. Ward ordered. “They’re going to take that Jezebel out of here by force.”

  “Shut her up,” Nate mumbled. “Her voice grates in my head.”

  “Every voice grates in your head.” Cash glanced at Rico. “The shrew has a good idea. You want we should take the Jezebel out of here by force?”

  “The Jezebel can speak for herself,” Lily said. “I didn’t kill R.W., and no one can prove that I did.”

  “Proof is as easy to buy as fair,” Mrs. Ward said. “Sherman, do your duty.”

  The room went silent, awaiting his verdict. Into that silence came a hoarse, shaky voice.

  “I-I d-did it,” Johnny said.

  “Ah, hell,” Lily muttered.

  Rico shot her a glare. “You knew that?”

  She shrugged.

  “When did you decide to start talking?” he demanded of the boy.

  “Don’t yell at Johnny,” Carrie shouted. “He’s doin’ the best he can. That bad man hurt him. Said he was going to do the same to Lily. He deserved whatever he got.”

  “R.W. is the one who did that to you?” Rico asked.

  “What did he do?” Lily demanded.

  “Not now, Lily.”

  Johnny ducked his head and nodded.

  “He’s lucky he’s already dead.” Rico turned to the judge. “R.W. hurt this child. When he threatened to do the same to Lily, Johnny protected her.”

  “Do you have any proof of this?” the man asked.

  Johnny tugged at the sleeves of his shirt with trembling fingers.

  “What’s he doing?” Lily whispered.

  “There are scars all over his arms—bad ones.”

  “You saw them?” Rico nodded.

  Lily stilled Johnny’s hands. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

  “I-I-I c-c-c-c—” He struggled with the word, mouth working, throat straining, but he could not finish.

  Rico had been annoyed to discover that both Lily and Johnny had lied to him about the boy’s silence. But seeing how difficult it was for Johnny to talk he understood why. Rico would have done the same thing to save the boy such pain.

  Johnny’s face flushed. He tugged free of Lily and yanked up his sleeves. The multitude of healed white scars was easily seen. The crowd shuffled and murmured.

  “That doesn’t prove anything,” Mrs. Ward said. “He could have done that himself, or the slut with the knife could have done it.”

  Lily pulled down Johnny’s sleeves. Her eyes were damp. “I would never hurt him,” she whispered.

  Rico set his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Tell them what he did, Johnny.”

  The boy’s face paled.

  “I’ll tell what happened,” Carrie said. “He doesn’t like to talk.”

  “He’ll have to talk,” Rico said. “For Lily.”

  “No.” Lily stepped between the boy and the judge.

  “This is serious,” Rico pointed out. “It won’t hurt him to talk to the judge.”

  “He can barely talk to me. I won’t make him do it in front of an entire room. He shouldn’t have to be embarrassed like that.”

  “R.W.’s the one who should be embarrassed—in hell.”

  “Johnny’s been through enough. He is not talking in front of all these people.”

  “Even if they hang you?”

  “Even if.”

  “The Jezebel obviously made up this story about R.W. hurting him. She practiced her wiles upon that child. She knew no one would hang a boy. Get on with this, Sherman.”

  The judge nodded. “I find the accused—”

  “Hold on just a minute!” Reese said. “There’s Russell. I wanna talk to you, Detective.”

  “Can’t this wait?” the judge asked.

  “No,” Reese said shortly, and the judge sat back. Most people listened whenever Reese did the talking. He went toe-to-toe with the Pinkerton detective. “Why did you send a wire to San Antonio saying you were bringing Salvatore to New Orleans? Who are you turning him over to?”

  “What are you talking about?” Rico demanded. “Nobody’s looking for me.”

  �
��There you are wrong.”

  The hair on Rico’s arms seemed to stand up on a chill wind that swept the room. Rico knew there was no wind, but as soon as he’d heard the voice, he was a child once more and scared.

  “Father.” Rico bowed. “I never thought to see you again.”

  “I am certain you did not. Yet here I am.”

  “Rico!” A young woman shoved past everyone and launched herself into his arms.

  Rico caught her. He had no choice. He also had no idea who she was—until she laughed. Then his heart stuttered and seemed to stop. When she drew back to look into his face, Rico reached a trembling hand to touch her blue-black hair.

  “Anna?” he whispered. “How can it possibly be you?”

  Chapter 20

  Anna’s laughter held the same depth of delight it had when she was a child. Rico had known her dead for so many years he could not believe his eyes. He kept touching her to make certain she was real, just as she kept touching him as though afraid he would disappear once more.

  She was all grown up and beautiful—smooth, dusky skin, black hair, regal face and bearing—the image of their mother in her youth. Seeing Anna brought back all the pain of losing both his mother and his sister. Remembering what had happened reminded Rico of the failure he had been.

  “If you’d come home as you should have,” his father said, “you’d have known Anna recovered. All of your life your rash behavior has hurt those you loved and caused you to ruin all that you touched.”

  His father hadn’t changed. He still thought Rico worthless. So why send a Pinkerton detective after him? Why hadn’t he been glad to see the last of the son who had always been a disappointment?

  Rico’s head spun. His father had found him, his sister was alive, and—

  “As I was saying,” the judge continued, “the accused is found—”

  “Uno momento,” the elder Salvatore interrupted. “I have here a letter from the governor, a personal friend of mine.”

  The judge motioned him forward impatiently.

  Rico’s father pulled the letter from his pocket and searched about for a lackey to deliver it to the judge. His gaze lit on Carrie. “You, urchin, come here.”

  Carrie glanced at Rico, who shook his head. Instead, Rico took the letter and strode to the judge. One glance at the paper and Oatley stood. “Court is dismissed until the morning.” He pointed at Russell. “Confine the prisoner upstairs and make sure she’s here come tomorrow.”