Secrets, Spies & Sweet Little Lies (Secrets & Spies)

by Kingston, Tara

  A pang of sympathy shuddered through her chest. Frederick had suffered a cruel fate, and even though he’d brought it on himself, she could not banish the pity that touched her soul. “Who did this to you?”

  “Men who won’t forgive another error on my part. I trusted you, Emma. I thought you’d run to me. Instead, you’ve taken up with that uncivilized dog. Travis wants to see me dead, and if you don’t give me the necklace, he’ll get his wish.”

  “I won’t discuss this in front of a child. Send her outside. Send her to the—”

  He sprang to his feet, the motion sudden and violent. Emma stepped away in retreat, dragging Caroline with her.

  “They did this to me,” he said, low and raw and dangerous. “They’ll carve me into pieces. There won’t be enough left of me to bury. I need the necklace. And I need it now.”

  “I’ll exchange the locket for the child. But you will release her first.” Amazing, how she managed to pronounce each word without wavering, despite the rush of blood surging against her ears.

  Another shake of his head. “Mr. Smith, please join us.”

  The pasty-faced thug who’d lost a thumb to Cole’s marksmanship emerged from the shadows. A large, flat dagger hung from a leather sheath strapped around his narrow hips. “Mornin’, Miss Davenport,” he said with a mocking tip of his flat-brimmed workmen’s cap. His right hand now lacked an additional digit. Only a bandaged nub remained where his little finger had been.

  “I see you worked your way free,” she said as though it were the most casual of observations.

  He gave his head a rough shake. “Rafe DuBois took my finger when he cut the rope. Said it was his way of teaching me a lesson.”

  “Emma, as you can understand, we are in need of your cooperation. Mr. Smith has no intention of losing more digits. And I…I’ve no desire for further lessons in the consequences of failure.”

  “I’m so sorry, Frederick…it breaks my heart to know you’ve suffered. But—”

  Frederick seized her wrist. The vicious pressure shot spikes of pain through her bones. With his free hand, he ripped open her collar. “Where is it, Emma? Where is the necklace I gave you?”

  Caroline screamed, her pitiful wail echoing off the walls. She clung to Emma’s skirts. “Stop hurting her! Stop hurting Miss Emma!”

  “Make yourself useful, Mr. Smith,” Frederick gritted between his teeth.

  The scrawny thug scooped Caroline up, holding her like a ragdoll dangling from his arm. “What should I do with her?”

  “If Miss Davenport doesn’t tell me what she’s done with the necklace, you can toss the squealing brat down the stairs.”

  “No!” Emma reached for her derringer, but he trapped her hands with a steely hold. Did he realize she’d come armed?

  “Tell me what you’ve done with the locket, and I’ll have Mr. Smith deliver the girl to her mother’s waiting arms. She’ll be unharmed. You have my word.”

  “As if your word could be trusted.” She met his cold gaze. “Free her now, and I’ll give you what you want. She’s an innocent child. She has no part in this.”

  “Her blood will be on your hands. Tell me where it is.”

  Desperation pierced her heart. Like a trapped animal, Frederick would stop at nothing to free himself from his predators. What would happen when Frederick discovered she had nothing to barter for Caroline’s freedom?

  She had to get to her gun. He’d left her no choice.

  Driving her booted foot into his shin, she seized his moment of shock. Twisting against his tenacious hold, she forced an elbow into his ribs. He grunted, but his hands held tight in a punishing grip. She slammed her other foot into his knee. Another grunt, and this time, his arms loosened enough to wrench herself free of his punishing hold.

  Emboldened by fear for the child, she hurled herself at Smith, jarring the bug-eyed hoodlum with the frantic impact. Caroline tumbled to the floor.

  “Run, Caroline!” Emma cried. “Down the stairs. Away from the bad—”

  Frederick stalked after her. “There’s nowhere for you to go.” His hand clamped over her shoulder, and he hauled her to his body. His free hand tethered her by the throat. She bucked against him as Caroline scurried to escape.

  Smith captured the squirming child, dragging her back to him. Her high-pitched scream of terror tore a piece from Emma’s heart.

  “Stop it before I toss you down the steps,” Smith growled. In reply, the child screamed even more vigorously.

  Frederick slowly shook his head in reproach. “If you do what I tell you, this beautiful child will return to her mother unscathed. If not…I doubt she’d survive a tumble down these stairs.”

  “You’re a monster.”

  He laughed softly. “No, not a monster.” He traced the curve of her jaw. “I’m a man who knows how to get what he wants.”

  “I hadn’t taken you for a coward.” Cole’s gravel-edged voice cut through the chamber. Six-shooter in hand, he emerged from the stairs and prowled toward them. Emma’s breath caught, and she went very still. Relief blended with terror. Cole would save Caroline. He’d do everything in his power to rescue the girl. Emma knew that beyond any sliver of doubt.

  But would he pay a brutal price for his courage?

  Frederick’s arm snaked around Emma’s throat. “I killed your brother, Travis. You’re a bigger fool than he was.”

  Cole slowly shook his head. “Jesus, Staton. I thought you were better than this. Using a child as bait. Shielding yourself with a woman.”

  “Your brother tried to stop me from making that delivery. He thought he could intercept my shipment. I did him a favor, really. If Rafe DuBois got his hands on him, he would have begged for death.”

  Cole’s jaw hardened to stone, but he betrayed no other sign of emotion. His gaze fixed on Frederick’s scarred face. “Looks like you’ve got some experience with that.” He shot Smith a scathing glance. “I knew I should have killed you. How’s the thumb?”

  Smith struggled with the thrashing child in his arms. “I don’t need it to toss this brat out the window.”

  Cole’s eyes narrowed. “Looks like you’re missing something else. DuBois had a little fun with you, didn’t he?”

  Smith scowled. His gaze hardened as he stared down at his rebellious young prisoner. “Caroline, be still,” Emma urged. “Please, be good…for me.”

  Cole advanced on Smith. “He’s not going to hurt the girl. I’ll put a bullet in his brain and he knows it. Isn’t that right?”

  Smith edged backward as if in retreat. “No need to think that way,” he mumbled.

  Cole trained his revolver on the man’s broad forehead. “Release the child.”

  Hesitation flashed in Smith’s pale eyes. “I can’t…I can’t do that.”

  “Let the girl go,” Cole repeated, drawing back the hammer.

  Pinning Emma with one arm, Frederick drew a revolver from the holster at his side. “Don’t even consider it, you mewling coward.” Frederick’s voice had gone low, sheathed with ice. “If you let her go, I’ll put a bullet in you myself.”

  Hard, cold metal pressed to the column of Emma’s throat, burrowing against the pulse point. A cry bubbled up, but she silenced it. Any distraction might give Frederick the upper hand.

  Cole’s attention whipped back to Emma, to the gun pressed to the underside of her jaw. His eyes narrowed as he leveled his weapon on a trajectory to Frederick’s skull.

  “Really, Major Travis, I thought you’d have a cooler head,” Frederick taunted. “If I pull this trigger, there won’t be enough of her pretty face for the senator to identify. Holster your weapon.”

  Cole lowered his gun. “This is between you and me. Let them go.”

  “Emma has something of mine, something I need. But I suspect you already know that,” Frederick said quietly. Metal clicked against metal as the hammer fell into place. Emma clenched her fingers into a fist to keep her hand from trembling. “Where is the necklace?”

  Cole’s ey
es narrowed. “Put down your weapon and we’ll talk.”

  “Mr. Smith, we need to give Major Travis a sign. Kill the girl.”

  “No,” Emma cried. The barrel dug into her flesh, and Frederick tightened his grip on her throat. Each gasp for air seemed a desperate struggle.

  The gaunt hoodlum blinked. “I…I don’t know about—”

  “Do it!” Frederick’s voice dripped malice. “Take the knife you wear strapped to you like a goddamn medal and cut her whiny throat.”

  “I…I can’t do it.”

  Cole shifted his aim, holding Smith in his sights. “Let the girl go.”

  “Please,” Emma pleaded. “You’re not a heartless—”

  Merciless pressure on her throat cut off her air. She bucked against Frederick, fighting for breath.

  “Make her bleed.” Frederick’s cruel command unleashed a fresh wave of terror. She jerked against his restraint, frantic to get to the child.

  Smith stared down at the wriggling bundle in his arms. “Jesus Christ, I…I can’t—” He opened his arms. Caroline dropped to the floor, then rushed shrieking into the shadows.

  The crushing force on Emma’s throat eased. She pulled in a breath, filling her ravenous lungs with air. “Run, Caroline!”

  The child burrowed into the corner, arms wrapped around her legs. If only she would go to the stairs. But she buried her head against her knees as sobs wracked her small body.

  “You worthless little weasel.” Frederick bit the words between his teeth as he shifted the gun away from Emma.

  His aim centered on the trembling hoodlum who’d defied him. An explosion deafened Emma, drowning out her hoarse cry and Caroline’s terror-filled screams.

  Clutching his chest, Smith sank to his knees. A crimson stain spread over his shirt. His head pitched forward, and he sprawled on the floor, lifeless.

  Cole didn’t flinch. Had he expected this? He trained his revolver on Frederick.

  “I will put a bullet between your eyes. Let her go. Now.”

  Frederick laughed, a harsh, vile sound. “I don’t find that option appealing.”

  “I don’t give a damn about your options. Release her, or you’re going to die.”

  “I don’t think so, Major Travis.” Frederick nodded at the stocky man who’d stepped onto the landing. “What took you so long?”

  The grizzled corporal who’d greeted them the night before leveled his sidearm at Colt’s broad back. “Drop your weapon, Major. I’ll put a bullet in your spine before you can even turn around. It might not kill you, but Rafe DuBois will when I deliver you to him. When he takes out that knife of his, you’ll wish I’d killed you right out.” He shot Frederick a glance. “You ain’t paying me to trot around after you like some goddamn hound. Didn’t think you’d need my assistance with a woman and a kid.”

  Cole lowered his pistol but did not cast it aside. “You goddamn traitor.”

  “Mr. Staton pays better than the Army. Ain’t nothing personal. Now, put the gun down. Don’t make me pull this trigger,” the corporal said, the reasonable notes in his tone absurdly incongruous with his treacherous actions.

  Frederick’s arm coiled around Emma like a tentacle. “Throw down your weapon. You know I’ll kill her.”

  Cole placed his revolver on the floor. The soldier kicked it away. “Now, Major, your backup weapon. I know you carry one.”

  Removing a six-shooter from the shoulder holster under his jacket, Cole lowered the gun to the floor. Again, the soldier kicked the weapon out of reach.

  “That’s better.” Frederick’s low rasp brushed Emma’s throat. He traced the curve of her jaw with one uncallused fingertip. “You are going to tell me where the necklace is, or I will kill him. Do you know what a belly shot does to a man? How long it takes to die?”

  Fear twisted her nerves into tangled knots. She needed time. “I’ve hidden it.” Her voice trembled more violently with each syllable. “I’ll take you to it.”

  “No pretty pleas for your lover?” Frederick’s velvet-sheathed tones were laced with venom.

  “Major Travis is more than capable of taking care of himself.” Though she strived for a cool, emotionless tone, a note of pride rang true. She met Cole’s eyes, then dropped her gaze to the pocket that concealed her derringer. His hint of a nod told her he’d taken her meaning.

  “Why the urgency to get your hands on a pendant, Staton?” Cole questioned in a bland voice. “I’d think a man like you would have plenty of cash to buy all the trinkets he wanted.”

  “You have the book,” Staton ground between his teeth. “You of all people should know why I need that necklace.”

  “You think the DuBois brothers will let you walk away after they get their hands on the locket?” Cole slowly shook his head. “Rafe DuBois will gut you after their deal is done. You know that as well as I do. I can promise you safe transport out of Washington, well away from their strongholds. After all, the senator is willing to bargain where his daughter is concerned.”

  “Bargain? You think I’d lower myself to bargain with that blustering buffoon? Jeremiah Davenport presided over the tribunal that sentenced my half-brother to death. Edward died at the end of a rope after suffering for months in a Yankee hell hole. I was smarter than Edward, smarter than Davenport. The senator didn’t even know who I was.”

  “I can help you get away,” Cole said. “California? New York? Paris? I can get you the hell out of here. But you’ve got to let her go.”

  Frederick brushed his mouth against Emma’s cheek. Currents of revulsion rippled along her spine. “The fool believed I was a Rebel sympathizer, as if I give a damn about the North or the South. Grant. Lee. Davis. They’re all idealistic fools. Her father would have killed me before I ever left the capital if he knew what I planned to do to Emma once I had her.”

  Cole’s jaw went rigid, but he betrayed no other sign of emotion. “Rafe DuBois isn’t going to let you live. I don’t care what you give him, what you promise—after the deal is done, you’ll be a dead man.”

  “DuBois and his brother will turn the course of this war to their advantage. They’ve stockpiled weapons, and they have buyers willing to pay a premium. Buyers who will infiltrate the Confederacy and lay claim to the South like locusts.”

  Cole’s brows arched. “And this requires a lady’s necklace?”

  “The brokers working for our buyers require verification of our identities. My symbol was in that locket, a pattern etched into the gold.” Frederick skimmed two fingers along the slope of Emma’s neck, slow and leisurely as a lover. A warm, liquid bitterness welled in her mouth, but she choked it back. “Without it, I’m a dead man.”

  “They’ll eliminate you no matter what you do,” Cole said. “I can help you.” He shot a glance at the corporal who held a gun on him. “And what do you think they’ll do to you? The DuBois gang doesn’t leave witnesses.”

  “Go to hell, Travis,” Frederick said. “I intend to collect that necklace and my share of the money. By then, you’ll be rotting in your grave.”

  Emma steeled herself. Frederick had no intention of letting any of them walk away. She needed to buy more time. She needed to convince him she had the necklace.

  “I’ll take you to it…to the locket,” she said, infusing her tone with a note of surrender. “But I’m bringing Caroline with me. She belongs with her mother.”

  Frederick’s broad shoulders rose and fell. “If you’re lying, I’ll cut her throat while her mother watches.”

  “I know better than to try to deceive you.”

  His hold on her relaxed, and she rushed to sweep Caroline into her arms. “Hush, darling, I’ve got you now.” The girl buried her face against her. Fat tears soaked through Emma’s bodice.

  Frederick eyed his accomplice. His curt nod seemed a command. “You know what to do.”

  Her heart seemed to stop, even as she clutched the child more tightly. She slipped one hand lower, her fingers curling around the grips of her derringer. Pressing a kiss t
o Caroline’s brow, she slipped the gun from her pocket.

  “Hide in the corner, dear,” she whispered. “Cover your eyes until I tell you to peek.”

  She met Frederick’s cold-eyed gaze. And then, she leveled the small pistol at his heart. “Leave. Now. I don’t want to kill you.”

  “Emma, you continue to disappoint me.” He eyed the weapon pointed at his chest, his lips curling into an ugly smirk. “You don’t have it in you. After all, you wouldn’t want to splatter blood on that sweet child, now would you?”

  “If you move, I’ll kill you.” Was the cool voice in her ears really hers? The curt tones sounded foreign, so very unlike her. Emma took a step back, putting herself between Frederick and the child. “I mean it, Frederick. I will pull the trigger.”

  “Put the damn gun down,” the corporal muttered, eyeing Emma as if she were nothing more than an annoyance. “Don’t make me—”

  His words were swallowed by a sickening crunch and a low grown as Cole’s elbow slammed into the man’s craggy face. Whipping around, Cole seized the corporal’s weapon and turned it on the traitor. The shot exploded around them. The corporal fell to the floor, writhing in agony as he frantically grabbed at his knee.

  “I want you alive,” Cole said. He slanted his gaze to Frederick. “You’re a different story.”

  Frederick’s eyes narrowed to malevolent slits. “You’re not a cold-blooded son of a bitch like me, Travis. You’d never willingly kill a child.” His attention shot to Emma, his mouth curving into a wolfish smile as his gaze fell on the derringer clutched in her white-knuckled hands. He leveled his pistol at her heart. “Or a woman.”

  Emma pulled the trigger. He’d given her no choice.

  Frederick’s long, lean body shuddered against the impact. His arm dropped to his side, his revolver dangling from his hand. His teeth clenched as he stared dully at the crimson stain spreading over the front of his shirt.

  Cole trained his weapon on Frederick. “Emma, take the girl and leave.”

  Frederick’s features hardened into a bitter mask as he widened his stance as if to brace himself. He placed his gun on the floor. Holding his palms outstretched, he turned to Emma. “As you see, I am now unarmed.”