"Thank you," Catalina said.
"Marc says he'll buy me a new dress in Natchez after I sing for some of his guests."
Catalina held back the sharp retort on her lips because she knew the words would be lost on Shawna. She wanted to tell this young woman that Marc was using her for his own ends, and deep inside she wondered what else was expected of Shawna. Did Marc use her as easily for his friends' pleasure as he did for his own?
Shawna turned to leave.
"Shawna, stay and talk to me for a while. You've been so kind I thought I might ask you to help me dress again. This dress," she said as she lifted one from her bed, "has at least a hundred buttons down the back."
Shawna's white smile appeared like a brilliant rising sun. "I'd love to."
Catalina engaged Shawna in random conversation while she washed her face and cleaned her teeth. Then she slipped into a dress with wide green and white stripes. Its sleeves were long and fitted, and the bodice molded itself snugly to her curves. It gave her a cool, tall, and very slender look. Shawna went behind her to fasten the buttons.
"Do you sing for all of Marc's friends?"
"Only very special ones."
"I see," Catalina said gently. "Do you go out with them?"
"No. Usually they stay on board the boat. If they're really important, Marc says we should be nice to them."
Catalina was outraged. Now, more than ever, she was determined to find the answers to her questions and to rescue this innocent from the clutches of a man as conscienceless as Marc Copeland. She would take Shawna with her when she left, give her a good life and put her beyond the reach of men like Marc and his friends who used Shawna for "entertainment." Her heart went out to Shawna and all her protective instincts surfaced.
Catalina sat on a small bench and began to brush her hair. Then she coiled it into a chignon at the nape of her neck. The wisp of curls that framed her face lent her an air of cool sophistication.
"I'd really like you to visit my home in Baton Rouge some day, Shawna. You'd like it and we could have fun together. We could shop, and I could introduce you to all my friends. I..." She stopped in midsentence as she saw Shawna's face blanch. When Shawna's eyes filled with the same terror she had seen before, it became obvious to Catalina that Marc had Shawna terrified of even thinking of leaving him.
"I... I don't want to go to Baton Rouge. I want to stay here with Marc." Shawna began to regain control. "I guess if Marc would come to visit I would come, but I want to stay with Marc and China."
Having finished with her hair, Catalina walked to Shawna. She smiled as comfortingly as possible, and her eyes were gentle. Td like to be your friend while I'm aboard the Belle anyway. Sort of like a sister."
"Oh, that would be fun."
The door swung open silently, but the two young women did not notice China for some time.
❧
China had gone to Catalina's old stateroom with Shawna and had helped her gather Catalina's things together. Then she had given Shawna some of Catalina's dresses and had told her to take them to Catalina.
After Shawna had gone, China studied the door between the two rooms. It was evident that no one on the other side could have slid the bolt. It had to be opened from this side.
This was the obvious thing Marc had seen and had taken at face value, but China had long since gained the knowledge that what seemed obvious was not always the truth. She studied the hall door for a while, then walked to it, opened it, and knelt on the floor to examine the lock.
The scratches in the outline of the keyhole confirmed her suspicions. Someone had tampered with the lock to gain entry.
She rose and went out into the passageway, pulling the door shut. She went first to the captain, then began to question the crew one by one. She did not speak of the deed. She only asked if one of the customers on the boat had been circulating through the crew asking questions. It did not take her long to come up with two names, those of Travis Sherman and the man he had questioned the longest, Willie Best.
She returned to Shawna's cabin after sending for Willie Best and telling him to come to it, that she had a little job for him to do. Then she locked Shawna's door, slid the key into the pocket of her dress, and waited in the passageway for Willie.
In a short while he scuttled toward her. There was no doubt in Willie's mind as to the kind of power China wielded on this boat. One word from her and the arm of Marc Copeland would descend on whoever was foolhardy enough to have caused her a problem.
"You sent for me, Miss China?"
"Yes, Willie. I have a little problem."
"Ya needs my help, Miss China, I kin do just 'bout anything"
China was reasonably sure that the "anything" included mayhem and murder, but she smiled.
"I'm afraid I've locked Shawna's door and have lost the key. Do you suppose there is any way you can get it open for me? I'd be very grateful and I'm sure Marc would reward you. .. with just what you deserve," she added with tongue-in-cheek humor.
"Do ya want me ta break it down? he asked warily.
"Well, I'd hate to damage the door if I don't have to. If there's any other way ..."
Seeing a reward before his eyes, Willie nodded. He swelled at the idea of displaying his prowess to this woman.
"I kin git it open for ya."
"I'd be grateful, Willie." China smiled.
Willie knelt before the door and took a strange hooklike instrument from his pocket. China watched while he fumbled with the gadget, making the same small scratches around the keyhole. She was more than sure now that this explained what had happened to Catalina's door.
Willie grunted in satisfaction, stood at the sound of the final click, and swung the door open.
"There ya be, Miss China. There ain't no door what can hold Willie Best."
"Come in for a moment will you, Willie? I'd like to discuss another little job with you."
Willie was puffed up with blustering satisfaction. He would prove valuable to this beautiful woman, and when she finally realized the number of things he could do, she might become more to him ... maybe even ...
He walked past China without noticing her look of aversion. Inside, he turned to look at her as she shut the door and faced him.
"You are quite good with locks, Willie,'' she said softly.
"Yep, the best," he gloated.
"You've done this before?"
"Sure have."
"And," China added quietly, her smile fading and her eyes narrowing, "you've done a little job on this boat within the past twenty-four hours, for a passenger. Have you not, Willie?"
His gloating face hardened and his smile faded as he realized the trap he had walked into. His mind spun, looking for a way out, wondering just how much she knew ... and how she had found out.
"I don't know what yer talkin' about," he protested.
"Please, Willie, don't waste my time by lying to me. I would be forced to let Marc find out the truth—the hard way."
He gulped and his face whitened. He knew Marc could get him to talk. With his cowardly nature, he made the decision quickly.
"It was Travis Sherman. He had me open a door for him, but honest to God, Miss China, I thought it was his door. I wouldn't have opened anybody else's for him." He continued to babble on as the look in China's eyes grew colder and colder. "Honest to God, Miss China, I thought it was his room."
He was sweating now, and his hands shook as China smiled.
"Why, Willie," she said gently, "when did I say it wasn't Mr. Sherman's door?"
Trapped again, Willie sagged into morose silence.
"Now, Willie, I think it's time you tell me what you really did ... and just how much Mr. Sherman paid you to do it."
Chapter 16
China warned Willie against repeating one word of what he had told her, and he was more than relieved to agree to this. Travis and Marc were the last two people he wanted to have any trouble with.
"Willie, it would be best if you left the boat
as soon as possible. I will see that you receive some money for your information."
Willie nodded and shuffled closer to the door. All he wanted at that moment was to get as far away from all the people on this boat as he could, and as soon as possible. He didn't know what kind of games they were playing with each other, but he wanted out of the whole thing.
"We'll be in Natchez day after tomorrow. If you come to me when we're ready to dock, I'll make sure you have some money. Willie," she added, in a voice that told him she meant business, "if I find you've contacted Mr. Sherman between now and then, I shall make very sure your life, or what you have left of it, will be worth very little. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, ma'am. I understand."
"Good," China said. Her smile chilled Willie's last attempt at bravado, and when she opened the door, he stepped back so he would not have to pass too close to her as he left.
China closed the door, satisfied with what she had learned, but a small nagging thought told her that she should have rid the world of Willie before he could do more harm. She was sure, in a strange fleeting way, that they had not seen the last of him. Discarding that thought, she returned to Catalina's stateroom, where she gathered up the balance of her things.
Then she made her way to Marc's cabin, and found Catalina sitting on the bed next to Shawna, talking.
The door had swung open soundlessly, and she stood quietly watching them for several minutes without drawing their attention. She used that time to critically regard Catalina. Shawna was smiling at whatever Catalina was saying, and Catalina bent toward her, resting a hand over hers in an almost sisterly gesture.
She is exquisitely beautiful, China thought. She could see why Marc was so drawn to her that he was becoming confused about his motives. For this, China was grateful; she still felt Marc's course was leading him down a destructive path on which he might be hurt worse than anyone else.
Shawna caught China's presence out of the corner of her eye, and rose to her feet while Catalina turned to see who had come in.
China was well aware of the wary distrust that leapt into Catalina's eyes, and she noted that it was accompanied by another look. If China had to guess she would have labeled it jealousy. This thought brought a smile to China's lips, for jealousy could well be the predecessor to stronger emotions.
China moved across the room to stand near the two women.
"Good morning," she said, bowing slightly toward Catalina.
"Good morning," Catalina answered. Thank you for bringing my things."
"You are quite welcome. I am sorry for the difficulty that forced you to vacate your room."
Catalina's cheeks flushed. She wondered if China's words held a double entendre and she was curious how much this woman knew about the situation.
"Shawna has been gracious enough to help me dress."
"Excellent," China replied. "If you would care to join us, Shawna and I would be delighted to have breakfast with you ... unless you have other plans?"
"No," Catalina said quickly. "I would like to talk to you."
China was more than certain this was true, but she, too, wanted to talk to Catalina. And she wanted to listen to her, to decide for herself about this woman who had stirred more emotions in Marc than any other.
They made their way to the elaborate dining room and were served a breakfast so extensive that Catalina wondered if this was China's habitual fare. She was quite aware that China was assessing her every word and every movement, but she wasn't quite sure what China was looking for. Was she seeking information for Marc ... or for herself? Was Catalina a threat to China? Was China jealous of her? Impossible. Marc and China were... The thought, once it had insinuated itself into her mind, jolted her with an emotion she could not put a name to.
By the time they had finished eating, China's curiosity seemed to be satisfied, and Catalina decided to take a walk on the main deck. She refused to admit, even to herself, that she had been looking about the boat for any sign of Marc.
As she walked through the dining room, she absorbed the beauty of it. The ultimate in steamboat Gothic splendor had been achieved in the main cabin or grand salon of the Belle. Its decor befitted its function as the center of life on the steamboat. Decorated in the most ornamental manner, the ceiling was supported by rows of ornate columns, their connecting arches carved in lacelike patterns. In the stern of the cabin, which was reserved for ladies, a huge mirror created an illusion, seeming to double the salon's length.
The windows, of stained glass, created a colorful interplay of sunlight on the rich Brussels carpeting and on the fine furnishings. In the evening it was illuminated by crystal chandeliers.
On the Belle an intermediate deck, above the main deck at the stern, was provided for those wishing to enjoy the view, the breeze, or a stroll. Catalina knew of it and chose to go there. She wanted to be alone, to think, and she did not want to cross Travis's path yet. The anger in her was too virulent. Losing her temper where Marc Copeland might be around to find some amusement in it would be embarrassing.
She stepped out on the deck and lifted her face to the soft breeze with pleasure. As a child she had always enjoyed finding places where she could retreat from everyone and enjoy the river. She planned to do that now as she walked toward the rail, but as she leaned both arms on it, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply, she heard a soft taunting voice.
"Very beautiful. I kind of thought you might come out here."
She spun about, completely unprepared to see him leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest and a half-smile on his lips.
"I'm sorry," she said frigidly. "I didn't mean to intrude on your privacy." She headed toward the door, but he stepped between her and it in one lithe move.
"Don't go," he said. "The view is not my personal possession. Besides, I'd rather look at you."
The look in his eyes was more of a challenge than anything else, and Catalina refused to be awed by it.
She turned from him and returned to the rail. In a moment he was beside her, one elbow resting on it, his eyes filled with deep appreciation for her intoxicating beauty.
The breeze brushed fine wisps of sable brown hair across her cheeks, and the morning sun made her seem aglow ... vital, alive, and very disturbing.
"It seems your friend sleeps late in the morning."
"He is not my friend."
"Aren't you the least bit curious about him?"
"Not really. Why Travis chooses to remain in bed is not my affair and I don't choose to make it so."
"Is that jealousy I hear?" Marc laughed. "I hope it's not the violent kind. Charlene is a woman of beauty, but sadly lacking in temperament. She's apt to become angry when interrupted."
Prepared for a display of anger and distress because Travis had chosen a lover so quickly after she had left him, Marc was surprised when she gave him a cold and disdainful look.
"Really, Mr. Copeland. If you can discuss only the amorous antics of that disgusting man I would prefer to be alone. Why don't you go below and seek out one of your 'ladies.' Then you and Travis would both enjoy your trip more."
He was surprised by her lack of anger at Travis, but he kept his reaction from registering on his face.
"Catalina."
"Yes?"
"Look at me."
She turned her head toward him, and her eyes sparked icy shards that could have bloodied him.
"What made you book passage on my boat?"
"The boat is mine."
"Was yours," he corrected gently.
"If you were any kind of gentleman you would return what you have stolen."
"Wrong again," he declared calmly. "Gambling losses are considered perfectly legal gains, and I have the signed papers to prove my ownership."
Catalina now turned fully toward him, studying his face.
"Where is my brother?" she said suddenly, and then in a controlled voice, "Whatever you've done with him at least tell me. I have to know. Where is Seth?"
/> "So," he said softly, "that's why you're aboard?"
"Where is her
"Your friend, Travis, was he—"
"I said he is no longer my friend. I want an answer."
"Then I'll give you one. You asked me that question once before and I told you I had not seen him since I won the boat. I repeat"—he held her eyes and spoke levelly and with conviction—"I have not seen your foolish brother since we gambled together."
"Gambled," she scoffed. "Hardly a gamble for you. I've a feeling my brother was like a child when gambling against you."
Marc didn't want to tell her how right she was. For the first time he felt a tug of conscience for having taken advantage of an unskilled gambler in order to ruin him. He tried his best to deny this.
"If a man gambles he must expect to lose as easily as he might win. In this case I was the winner."
"I want to know... I have to know," she said, coming as close to pleading as her pride would allow. "Where is my brother? Is he alive?" Her voice suddenly broke.
She watched his smile fade, his eyes grow warm and intense. "Catalina, no matter what you think of me I am not a man who commits murder. I won the boat from your brother, but I have not seen him since and I have not raised a hand to injure him. I do not know where he is, but he has not been aboard the Belle."
Despite her worry, her anger, and her distrust of most males, she found it difficult to admit that she actually believed him. Flooded by a surge of relief, she sagged momentarily, grabbing the rail. When Marc reached out and took her hand to steady her, she made an inarticulate sound, half-protest and half-sob. But the hand that held hers was strong and firm.
He drew her close to him and slid his arm about her waist, but she pressed her hands flat against his chest, preventing him from drawing her close as he wanted to.
If Catalina had been unprepared for the shock of accepting his words, Marc was just as unprepared for his unexplainable need to make her understand that Seth had come to no physical harm at his hands.
His plan to destroy the Carrington family had started out well. He'd meant to drive them to their own destruction, but now he felt that his control had been slipping since that first night he had held Catalina in his arms.
Catalina's Caress Page 18
