Blake Allen

by Danni Roan

  Pierce Franco was not a man to be trifled with, and he held tight to whatever he considered his own. Blake pulled his eyes away from Darcy as she grasped her drink pulling it close.

  “You look like this new life suits ya,” she drawled her eyes hooded. “Don’t look half bad in that get up, either?”

  Blake studied the bar in front of him catching a glimpse of the bartender’s shake of the head as he began polishing a glass with a clean rag.

  “Darcy, my darling!” a booming voice cut across the almost empty room. It was early in the day and few patrons had made their way to the speakeasy, but from the dark depths of the hidden room you wouldn’t know that the sun was shining outside on a cool spring day. “Blake, I see you’re keeping watch over my best girl.” The broad man clapped a hand on the woman’s shoulder, and she flinched imperceptibly before turning and throwing her arms around the man.

  “Pierce honey!” she squealed twining her arms around his neck. “You’ve been neglecting me again,” she kissed him on the cheek then pulled back with a pout.

  “Business is good honey,” the man said, smoothing his dark hair back over a wide forehead. “How am I supposed to keep you in the style you’ve become accustomed to if I don’t work?” He nodded to the bartender who reached under the bar and pulled out a bottle of amber whisky, filling a glass three fingers full and handing it to his boss.

  “Blake, I see you’ve renewed your acquaintance with my Darcy. Isn’t she the sweetest thing you’ve ever met?” He grinned wolfishly not catching the narrowing of Blake’s golden eyes.

  “I’m sure she is as sweet as you say, sir,” he hedged. There was a questioning light in the other man’s eyes and Blake could feel the hair on the back of his neck prickle in warning.

  “Oh, don’t be shy now boy,” Pierce barked. “She’s the prettiest woman in Wyoming and she knows her place too.” He laughed, a deep throated chuckle that sent a shiver over Darcy’s skin as Pierce grabbed her around the waist and pulled her roughly to his side.

  “You know it sweetie,” Darcy said, a bright smile flashing as she lifted the drink she still held in her hand and swallowed a large gulp.

  “I found this little bit of fluff wandering the poorest part of the city,” Pierce crooned. “Alone and nearly destitute. Her parents had all but disowned her after what one might call a misjudgment.” His chuckle was feral and Blake felt his stomach turn to acid. “Now look at you my dear. Queen of this place and never wanting for anything.” He leaned in expecting and getting a kiss.

  Darcy giggled and Blake studied her as she picked at the other man’s lapels. “I don’t know where I’d be without you Piercey,” she tittered then pouted again. “Of course there is that pretty coat I saw the other day when we went to dinner. Why did that fat woman have such a pretty coat and I don’t?” Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she reached out a slim finger to stroke the man’s ear. “You really have been neglecting me.”

  “Now Darcy, you know I don’t have time to take you shopping this week.” His eyes flickered toward Blake then back to his moll. “I’ve got an important meeting tonight, and I’ll be out of town for the next two days.”

  Darcy wrinkled her nose as if she had caught a whiff of something that smelled bad. “Refill,” she said, plunking her nearly empty glass back on the bar and turning away from Pierce.

  “Now honey, don’t go pouting.” Pierce’s laugh this time was jovial. “I’ll take you out when I get back.”

  “I’ll have died from boredom by then.”

  The laughter increased and the man slapped her bottom making the fringed covering the dress jump and jitter. “How about if young Blake here takes you shopping then?” he asked, his dark eyes turning on Blake who stood, his shoulders rippling with tension. “I can see he’s a smart young man who knows his place too.” The veiled threat in Pierce’s voice was clear. Darcy was his and his alone.

  Blake nodded once meeting the man’s hard glare with his own steady gaze.

  “Really!” Darcy squealed turning to drape herself over Pierce’s thick form. “How much allowance?” she crooned into his ear.

  “Whatever you need honey.” Pierce turned nodding to the bar tender, who pulled a strong box out from under the bar and slid it toward the trio.

  Pierce flipped the top of the box open and pulled out a wad of cash shoving it into Darcy’s hands. “That should do it.” He leaned in and Darcy kissed him while stuffing the money into a tiny beaded bag that didn’t look big enough to hold it.

  “Get her coat Ray,” Pierce said, squeezing Darcy one more time. “I’ll see you at the end of the week.” Turning Pierce waved a hand in dismissal and began to walk away. Moments later the bartender was helping the slim woman into a long black wool coat.

  ***

  Darcy grasped Blake’s arm surprised at the bulk of muscle under his coat. “Where are we going?” she asked, shrugging her coat a little tighter on her shoulders as she stepped out into the bright sunshine and cool air. Wood smoke hung on the breeze, and the smell of automobiles puttering by tickled her nostrils making her long for truly fresh air.

  “Where ever you want to go,” Blake offered, bracing himself as she wobbled on her high heeled shoes.

  Darcy snorted but didn’t comment. Instead she pulled him along the street to a shimmering blue car that sat by the curb. It was a stunning sporty model, the dark robin’s egg blue shimmering like diamonds. “You know how to drive one of these Turnip?”

  Blake nodded pushing his new hat further over his eyes as he opened the passenger side door and let the woman slip inside. “Is this your car?”

  “It’s the one that Pierce lets me use. Of course I can’t drive, but at least I can go when he gives me permission.”

  Blake slipped onto the smooth white leather seat and grasped the wheel, shooting a look at the woman beside him. She had wrapped the heavy coat around her and looked somehow small, like a little girl in the wrong sized clothes. “My female cousins can all drive,” Blake said, before thinking about it.

  “Cousins huh?” Darcy asked turning her doe eyes on him. The gaze was like a punch to the gut and he tensed at the dark sorrow in their depths.

  Closing the door and turning the engine on Blake slipped the car into gear and pulled into the street.

  “How many cousins?” Darcy asked turning to look out the window.

  “Lots. Where do you want to go?”

  “Just drive,” Darcy said, still gazing out the window. “I’d like to get out of the city for a while.”

  Blake drove for an hour, leaving Cheyenne behind and rolling out into the prairie. Homes, ranches, and farms dotted the area where the winter browned grass was beginning to find hints of green.

  “You’d better turn around,” Darcy said, waving negligently at nothing.

  Blake pulled off the side of the dirt track and checked his mirrors preparing to turn back toward the city but stopping as big black Oldsmobile rolled up next to them.

  “Darcy is everything alright?” A dark-haired man with hard eyes peered past Blake to the woman on the other side.

  “Fine, fine,” Darcy smiled. “I just wanted a little jaunt out of the city. We’re headed back now to do some shopping.”

  The man shot Blake a hard look. “The boss don’t like Darcy goin’ too far,” he said, waiting to end his hard gaze until Blake nodded. “See ya back at the Dog and Bone,” he finished pulling out in a skid of gravel and dust.

  Blake shot Darcy a glance then turned the car around and headed back to the city. “What was that about?”

  Darcy shrugged. “Pierce is kind of protective,” was all she said.

  Chapter 6

  For the rest of the day, Blake ferried the woman all over Cheyenne, stopping at various shops where she tried on a plethora of clothing, coats and jewelry. By the time the sky was growing dark the back of the car was full of heavy boxes and Darcy wore a dark mink coat, pulled up to her chin. The shimmering fur wrapped around her slight form like ar
mor, and he could see that she felt more alive in it than she had in the heavy wool she had discarded at one of the shops.

  “Isn’t that a little warm?” Blake asked, indicating the fur, as they pulled into a street near the speakeasy.

  “Wearing mink is not about being warm,” Darcy snapped. “It is for being seen.” As the car came to a stop, she opened the door and stepped out sashaying to the door where a little window opened at her knock. Two seconds later, she had disappeared into the darkness within, leaving Blake feeling alone and confused by her attitude as he struggled to carry the rest of her purchases indoors.

  Throughout the day Darcy had peppered him with questions about his life and family. He had carefully given her the information she had wanted without breaking his own story line and felt that if nothing else she was starting to see him as a real person. When Pierce had offered him a job, assuming he was down on his luck and out of work, he had told them he’d had a falling out with his family because he hated the country and wanted the excitement of the city.

  It was easy to sell the story with enough fact to fit the fiction. Blake grinned, thinking of his mother and her dreams of seeing the bright lights and action of larger towns and big cities. A dream that only came true because she had been forced to marry his father. He chuckled, thinking back on his family and the stories of how Clay Allen had met Meg James. His life had hinged on that encounter, and he had tried to share a little of himself with the woman he had been charged with.

  Climbing out of the fancy custom made car, Blake stretched then began to collect the boxes and bags Darcy had worked so hard to acquire. Half of him suspected that he had been sent on this shopping spree for Darcy to find out if he were what he claimed, and half of him thought it had been simply to get them both out of the way. No matter what the motive, he had rather enjoyed getting out of the dark recesses of the speakeasy.

  Despite himself, Blake felt sorry for the woman he had ferried about Cheyenne all day. Though she was lavished with all manner of gifts and had the money to do just about anything she wanted, it was obvious that she was not free to do as she wished or go where she wanted.

  “You go on inside,” a rough voice barked as Blake pulled two large boxes out of the car. “I’ll carry these up to Miss Darcy’s place.” Jim, the lumpy man and another of the bouncers jerked his head toward the door. “She’s already hittin’ the sauce pretty good and might need someone to keep an eye out for her.”

  Blake met the man’s pale eyes. He had a face like a squashed cauliflower, his big jug ears sticking out to both sides. The man was a bruiser, a brawler, and exactly what he seemed; Hired muscle. Still there was a light in his eyes when he spoke of the young woman who all but belonged to his boss that made Blake think Jim also had a soft spot for Darcy. Blake handed off the boxes he carried and hurried toward the front door. “I’ll do my best.”

  Darkness engulfed him and Blake blinked to adjust to the dim lighting of the speakeasy, it was always like that when you stepped inside. Discordant music came from a small platform near the back of the place and the sound of clinking glasses, laughter, and the shuffle of poker chips filled the room.

  Blake spotted Darcy at the bar a large drink in her hands as she showed off her new fur coat. She was laughing and joking with the people who seemed to throng to her, whether out of admiration for her beauty or for her position with Pierce, he couldn’t tell, but the laughter never reached her eyes. One thing Blake was sure of, there was more to that woman than one could see on the surface.

  ***

  Blake crept through the predawn of a windy day. The city was only just waking, and he scrubbed the sand from his eyes. He’d been up all night watching the frantic activities of people bent on breaking the law. It had been nearly a month already of helping drunken patrons to their cars, quelling arguments, and dumping surly men and women outside if they started to cause trouble for Pierce’s Dog and Bone Saloon.

  Today he was reporting to the offices of another important man, one he still wasn’t sure he could trust, but that he needed to meet.

  The police commissioner, Rouche, met Blake at the front of the old mission, the hastily written invite from Blake still in his hand. The man looked tired and worry worn, but his dark eyes were bright and full of intelligence, giving the young lawman hope that all would be well.

  “You have something to report?” the commissioner asked without preamble. “I’ve received updates from your superiors in Casper, and I’ll take them at their word that you’re a good man and dedicated to the badge.”

  “It’s true,” Blake stated flatly, not waiting for more as he made his report. “I’m starting to see just how far the branches of this particular tree spread.” Blake said, as the other man lit a cigar. “The Branson gang has several speakeasies here in town, but there are whispers that they’re planning another bank job. I’m more interested in that than what goes on behind those doors.”

  “You think you can get inside?”

  “I don’t know,” Blake admitted honestly. “I think Pierce is starting to trust me. He lets me cart his girl around town when she’s bored, and I’ve done several cash deliveries to other locations.”

  “Is he the head of the gang?”

  “I’m not sure about that, he’s definitely up there, but I don’t think he plans the big jobs. He’s what you might consider a middle man, the one who gets his hands dirty when necessary.” Blake met Rouche’s dark eyes taking in his sagging jowls and unshaven face. “If he’s not at the top, he’s close to whoever manages the show.”

  Rouche pushed his bulk from the corner of the building smacking a fist into the palm of his hand and putting Blake on edge. “We’re so close,” the older man growled. “I can almost see it. It would be a big win for everyone if we could pull this bunch down. Too many have already suffered at their hands, good men lost.”

  Blake could understand the commissioner’s frustration. “Aren’t you afraid if we get this bunch another one will just spring up?”

  Rouche paced up the side walk a few steps then turned back again. “Probably, but all we can do is take on one problem at a time.” He turned his dark eyes on Blake again a hard glint sparking in their depths. “Can you get close to this girl? She may be the key. If she could get the information from Pierce we might know which way to go.”

  “That would put her at risk.”

  “Risk? Huh, she’s already at risk. What happens if someone else takes Pierce’s fancy. That girl will be out on the street or worse.”

  Blake felt an all too familiar shiver run down his spine. He’d seen the tenuous hold Darcy had on Pierce. The girl had all but sold her soul for a few bobbles. “I can’t say I like using Miss Darcy.”

  Rouche dropped his hand to Blake’s shoulder. “Son, sooner or later something’s got to give here, and right now, that girl is the weakest link. Use her or someone else will, and they might not care what happens to her in the end.”

  Blake pulled in a deep breath and nodded. He knew it was his best lead, but he didn’t like using someone who was obviously vulnerable. Darcy had her own problems, and though she seemed happy to be Pierce’s girl, he could see the hollowness of her soul in the depths of her brown eyes.

  As Rouche turned away heading toward a waiting squad car Blake slipped through the back alley and behind the mission to his cousin’s home. If things hadn’t changed too much, he was sure she would already be up making breakfast for her family and at that moment, his heart longed for anything that harkened back to the peace and familiarity of home.

  Chapter 7

  “Blake!” Mary turned from the stove as Bar led him into the kitchen. “My, my, don’t you look smart,” she teased then pulled back with a sour expression on her face after offering him a hug. “You don’t smell so smart though.”

  “Sorry Mary, I’m afraid my new job isn’t in the rosiest location.” He knew the smell of cigarette smoke and liquor clung to his new suit after a long night doing his job.

&nbs
p; “It doesn’t matter,” Mary said, dropping her hand to his and giving it a squeeze. “Have you had breakfast? Please join us.”

  Blake grinned, his eye lighting with the invitation and his stomach grumbling at the smell of bacon eggs and fresh bread. “How could I say no.”

  Barrister chuckled gesturing toward a chair. “You found what you needed I take it,” the man said, his intelligent eyes taking in Blake’s slicked back hair, sharp suit, and expensive boots. “One day you were there at the mission and the next day you had cleared out kit and caboodle.”

  “I seem to be on the right track.” Blake said no more on the subject and it was obvious he wouldn’t. He didn’t want his family involve in any of this mess. The men he was after were dangerous and would stop at nothing for revenge.

  “Have you had a chance to write to your mother?” Mary asked placing a plate before him, and looking at him sharply. “I didn’t think so,” she continued with a frown at the look on his face. “I’ll fill you in over breakfast.”