Then she slipped back out of the room, down the back stairs, and out into the rapidly darkening Portland evening, heart in her throat, her fingers tingling.
“All right,” she whispered to herself, raising the collar of her coat against the chill in the damp air. “Let’s see if I’m right or if I’m crazy.”
You are crazy, Tucker’s voice echoed in her mind.
She shook her head, forcing the image away. She wasn’t crazy; she was an agent, and her instincts were right more often than not. Her partner had similar instincts, and he would know what to do when he saw the note.
And she had someone tailing her at all times, though he stayed out of her sight. If all went according to plan, this would work out rather smoothly.
Which was a pretty big if.
But she was willing to take that risk.
Trusting those instincts, she moved west, still keeping to the dank underside of the city. There was no guarantee this would work, or that anyone would be watching tonight, but if there was as much fascination with her as there seemed to be, there was no reason why a solo venture of hers wouldn’t raise some interest with the curious persons.
There was less light than there had been in other nights they had gone out, thanks to the complete cloud cover, and a mist of a rain fell silently, adding to the chill unnecessarily. Water fell from sewer pipes and rooftops, clapping to the ground in almost musical tones, and, for some reason, the taverns and businesses seemed less noisome than before.
Everything was quieter, including her footsteps. Her breathing seemed to echo around her; she altered that to barely breathing at all. The pounding in her heart had to be audible, but there wasn’t anything she could do about that.
A pair of stumbling sailors passed her, their slurs harsh in the silent city around them. They paid her no attention, which was a relief. That was something she did not need to add into her nighttime adventures. Her costume must have been a better one than she’d thought, and there was nothing remotely feminine about it.
She allowed herself a brief exhale, pausing at a corner.
This was madness, and she knew it. But there was no other option, and she had to prove to Tucker that she could do this.
That she was worth this.
She looked up at the buildings and alleys around her, getting her bearings. Then she crossed the street and down the alley on her right. It was a quieter one than their usual trips, but one that had the resounding sounds of running water and echoes emanating from it. The cobblestone was damp and slippery, and debris from crates and cartons littered the sides. The buildings were colder than she expected as her fingers traced the walls.
A shiver raced up her spine, sending goose bumps dancing across her skin.
Something was strange about this alley. Something dark, cold, and disorienting.
She looked up at the dark sky, her fingers playing at the ribbon of her braid anxiously. Nothing noteworthy about these buildings, or this alley. She knew roughly where she was, but the map in her head seemed harder to picture at the present.
It would be all right. Her plan was hasty and rushed, but sound.
It would work.
It would.
She passed another small, cramped looking alley, one that had no end she could see. Another shiver, this one faint and weak, rippled in her spine, and she looked away, her free hand rubbing at her arm.
An arm wrapped around her waist while another went to her mouth before a scream could escape, and then she was hauled off her feet and carted down the small alley, silence echoing once again.
It had been almost a full day, and he still felt lost.
Not angry, not betrayed, not even jealous.
Just lost.
He’d come back to the boarding house when he was sure she’d be asleep, and he’d taken great care that nothing he would do would wake her. Just a few hours of sleep on his part, but he’d taken a long time to just stare at her sleeping figure. It spoke of some mental disturbance, he was sure, if not some strange criminal tendency, but he had no desire, in that moment, other than to watch her sleep.
Stunningly beautiful, even like this, and still able to pull at his heart. Even when he was furious and had lost all trust in her, he was still filled with longing and wanting. The desire to be with her, the need to protect her, and the urge to confess far more than he had admitted even to himself.
So he’d left again, pretended he had more investigating to do, and spent the early morning hours of the day wandering the city. He’d met with Dobson when the day became late enough for real human interaction, and they’d gone over what Simm had told them in the night. It had been a sufficient distraction for him, and actually a useful meeting for their investigation. A new list of suspects emerged from it, and Dobson set his men on it immediately.
A sense of duty told Tucker to share the information with his partner, to corroborate whatever she had worked on, and to collaborate on their next step. But Alexandra was his partner, and he was not ready to face her.
And now that he was wandering the city yet again, night having fallen, and there were no emotions left within him.
Just lost.
He knew exactly where he was in Portland, of course. By this point, he knew this city better than almost any other in the world. But he didn’t know what to do or where to go, or how to feel. He wanted to know why Alex hadn’t told him about Charlie, he wanted to know why she hadn’t told him about the telegram, he wanted to know how she felt about him, and he wanted to know why all of this mattered so much.
He knew, of course, but he refused to admit it.
Refused to think it.
But oh, how he felt it.
He made a face up at the misting rain, scolding himself over and over. He’d never been afraid of anything in his life before now, and this was a ridiculous time to start. He could put aside his emotions for a bit longer, now that they were getting close to the end. He needed to solve this case, and he needed to do right by his partner. He owed that to her, and to her future as an agent.
Nodding to himself, he moved out of the side street he had been wandering and headed back in the direction of the boarding house.
He could be understanding and listen, no matter how she chirped. He could put his feelings aside and let her feel better about matters by confessing whatever she wanted to. He could let her rail at him in a massive fit of temper over the injustice of his treatment of her.
And then they could get on with the case, and part when it was over. He could sign the annulment and move on with whatever Archie gave him for the next assignment.
Then, if he should have another partner, he would be all the more prepared for dealing with that.
“Carlton!”
Tucker blinked and turned towards the sound of his name, defenses rising, ready to flee or fight depending on the situation.
He fought a scowl as he saw Charlie jogging towards him, and shoved his hands into his pockets, more to avoid slugging the man across the face for good measure than anything else. “What?” he demanded, eager for this to be over already.
Charlie reached him, eyes wide, panting. “She’s gone.”
Tucker stilled, and he focused on the younger man, the strain evident in his features. “What?”
“Dra is gone,” Charlie said again. His hands spread in a frantic gesture. “I’ve looked everywhere.”
Before he knew what was happening, Tucker had Charlie by the lapels gripping hard. “I thought your job was to follow her and protect her. That was your job.”
“It was, and it is,” Charlie spat, wrenching out of his hold. “And I did.”
“Clearly.” Tucker ran a hand through his hair, exhaling roughly. “How did you lose her in the middle of the night, Charlie? Did she sneak out of the boarding house for a stroll?”
Charlie gave him a bewildered look. “You don’t know, do you?”
Tucker returned the look uneasily. “Know?”
“She went out hours ago. A
nother nighttime venture, I’m guessing.” Charlie looked around, then stepped closer. “She was dressed in the trousers, and was moving fast. Pretty determined, I’d wager.”
Tucker swore and turned away, gripping the back of his neck. Of all the foolish, naive, brainless things she could have done, going out into the night unaccompanied was the first on the list. “You followed?”
Charlie snorted once. “Of course. I had her fully in my sights the entire time, until she rounded into an alley and disappeared. I have no other word for it. I couldn’t have been more than twenty-five paces behind her, and when I followed into the alley, she was gone. No sign of her, no sound.”
Just like the rest. Vanished without a trace and without a hope of finding her.
Tucker squeezed his eyes shut, the world crashing in on him in successively painful blows.
“I did find a ribbon.”
His eyes sprang open with a gasp. He turned, hand extended before he made it all the way around. The ribbon was in his hold at once, and he stared as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“A clue,” he murmured, stroking the blue fabric. “There were never any clues before.”
The statement struck him, and he froze yet again.
“There were never any clues,” he said again.
“You said that,” Charlie snapped impatiently. “So?”
Tucker looked at the man, smiling broadly. “So this is a clue.”
Charlie clearly thought he had lost his mind. “Yes…”
With a laugh, Tucker clapped the man on the shoulder. “Alex left us a clue. She intentionally left us a clue.” He slapped his shoulder once, and started off at a fast clip.
“Wait!” Charlie called, catching up. “We were down on the other side of town, we need to go the other way.”
Tucker shook his head. “Not yet. You said she was determined, she knew what she was doing. I need to know what she was going after before we follow. Alex is no fool, she had a plan. Might have been a stupid plan, but it was a plan.”
Charlie said nothing else, but the pair of them moved more quickly and before long, they were thundering their way up the stairs of the boarding house and into the bedroom.
“Nothing on the floor,” Tucker muttered, nodding to himself. “Good.”
Then he went to the trunk and pulled the papers out, rifling through them quickly for anything that might have changed. He shook his head as he scanned them all, not seeing anything.
Wait…
He went back a few pages and found the map. Something was different.
He tossed the rest of the pages into the trunk, not bothering to hide them, and unfolded the map on the floor, his eyes darting here and there. Faint lines extended out from a few of the businesses, hesitant but clearly there, not following the street patterns, all leading to the docks.
“Tunnels,” he mused, his mouth curving to one side. “Rough idea, but not far off, surely…”
“Tucker.”
He looked over at Charlie, who stood by the table, a paper now in his hand. “What?”
Charlie waved it at him. “She left a note.”
A lump suddenly lodged itself in Tucker’s throat, and he faintly feared that Alex might have left for another reason entirely.
He shook that errant thought away the moment it entered.
Alex wanted to prove herself, not ruin herself. And besides, she would never have left without her gowns and monstrous hats. She had too much pride in them, and too much of an image to uphold. This was no flight of fancy for his wife, this was a plotted course.
His wife.
He hadn’t thought of her as his wife for hours, yet now that’s all he could see her as. She was his partner, right enough, but there was so much more to her, and to them, than that. So much potential, and so much to explore.
His wife and his partner.
And he needed her.
He rose and took the paper from Charlie, Alex’s neat handwriting jumping out at him.
Mutt-
Went for a walk. Will see a saddle. Possibly seeing some ships. Look down. W.
~A
“I have no idea what she’s saying,” Charlie admitted with a sigh. “I’ve known her since we were kids, and I’ve never quite known what she was saying. I don’t think her father knows half the time.”
Tucker’s mind spun, and he shook his head in wonder, a fond smile spreading. “I know what she’s saying,” he murmured. “I know exactly what she’s saying.”
“Seriously?” Charlie came to his side and looked over the note as though the translation would be written there.
Tucker nodded once. “Seriously.”
Her excursion was intentional, and the letter was the direction she had gone.
He turned back to the map on the floor, crouching and tracing a route with his finger. “Going west,” he muttered, eying the surrounding areas. “And look down…”
He shifted his finger towards one of her suspected tunnels, nodding to himself. “All tunnels towards the docks, thanks to Simm… and seeing ships confirms…”
“What about the saddle?” Charlie asked from over his shoulder.
Tucker grunted once, shaking his head. “She knows who she’ll see. She’s doing this whole thing on purpose. Brilliant, mad little Chickadee. I’ll wring her neck.”
He rose and turned to Charlie, folding the note. “Congratulations, Charlie, you’ve officially been recruited. Let’s go.”
They were out the door and down the front stairs in a moment, the main street silent in the midnight air.
“Glad to help,” Charlie commented, sounding almost amused. “But shouldn’t we be going the back way? Into the darkness and alleys and all that?”
Tucker glanced at his new comrade in arms with a wry look. “Not yet. We need reinforcements. Lots of tunnels mean lots of options. We cover all bases, and then we go in and get her out.”
Charlie frowned at that. “Aren’t you worried about her? Who knows what she could be enduring right now?”
“Of course I’m worried,” Tucker replied, the admission coming freely, catching in his chest. “But about her? Not as much as you’d think. And whatever she’s enduring, I can promise you that Alexandra Drake Waite can give just as good as she gets. Just pray that nobody gets her within ten feet of a gun.”
Chapter 10
It was cold, it was dark, and it was haunting.
Most tunnels were, but this one seemed especially so.
Of course, if her captor would take off her blindfold, she wouldn’t have found it such a dark place, but that was neither here nor there.
She hadn’t been beaten or in any way ill-treated. She hadn’t been knocked unconscious or even subdued. No bodily harm whatsoever.
She did have a gag in her mouth, but she supposed that was to be expected. No one would want their captives screaming their head off. In tunnels like these, the sound would have echoed everywhere.
But, she supposed, in taverns filled with drunken men, and bordellos filled with the usual sort that filled them, it was entirely possible that the sound wouldn’t have been heard through the trap doors and such. Sewer tunnels surely would have required silencing, but these other tunnels might have gotten away with it.
If the victims were intoxicated to a certain extent, it wouldn’t have been an issue. And if the men taken were the hardy sailor sort, a whack to the head for silencing purposes wouldn’t have been farfetched.
It made sense, in a way, that she was so well treated so far. If they were going to sell their victims, they would want to get as much money for them as possible. All told, Alexandra should fetch a fair price for whoever wanted her.
It was strange, she didn’t feel nearly as afraid as she should have, being kidnapped and held in a tunnel beneath the city. Especially considering she wasn’t entirely certain how many tunnels there were under the city, and that she hadn’t exactly left a clear indication for her partner, or her bodyguard, as to her location.
The only question she really had was if it would be before she was loaded onto a ship or after.
She highly doubted her life was in danger, no matter how Miss Gilbert disliked her. There was no benefit in a murder, and she suspected that Miss Gilbert was all about the profit.
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