by Bobbi Smith
One of the guards quickly handed it to him, and he unlocked the cuff. "Alan, stay away from me and my family. I don't ever want to see you again," he declared angrily.
Then, swiftly, he shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it about Espri before sweeping her up in his arms and striding from the building. He met Jon at the entrance. Worried, his brother had just started to go in after Mitch when he'd appeared at the door, holding Espri.
"I was just coming in for you," he told him, relieved that Mitch had effected the rescue. "How is she?"
"The bastards have drugged her. I've got to get her to a doctor."
"Let's take her home. We can have the doctor come there."
"That's a good idea."
Jon held Espri for a moment while Mitch mounted his horse and then carefully handed her up to him. Cradling her against his chest, Mitch rode home as quickly as he could, with Jon and the policemen escorting him.
Chapter 33
After notifying the police to meet Mitch at Roland Stuart's office, Mabel anxiously awaited their return. She paced the parlor, becoming more and more concerned. She had seldom known Mitch to carry a weapon, and she had never seen him leave the house in such a rush. He had told her that Espri had been kidnapped and that Jon had gone to her rescue, but she was desperate for further knowledge. When she heard horses pull up out front she ran from the parlor and threw open the door just as Mitch was coming up the front steps with Espri in his arms.
"Dear God, what's happened to her?" she exclaimed when she saw that the young woman was unconscious.
"It's a long story. Mabel," Mitch said tersely as he entered the foyer and, without stopping, headed up the staircase. "Send for the doctor and tell him it's an emergency!"
"Yes, sir!" As she started from the hall she saw Jon, who had come in. He was covered with dried blood. "Mr. Jonathan!" she cried, "what happened to your head?"
"A bullet grazed me, Mabel. It's not serious. Go ahead and send for the doctor."
"Right away."
Mitch kicked open the door to their bedroom and hurried across the room. Gently, he placed Espri on the bed, and taking his jacket from about her shoulders, he quickly stripped the black silken clothing from her and angrily threw the offensive garments across the room. With gentle hands, he drew a warm blanket over her and then sat down on the bed close beside her to await the doctor's arrival.
"She'll be all right, Mitch." Jon stood in the doorway.
"God, I hope so," he muttered, unable to take his eyes from Espri's pale features.
"Chun Ki wouldn't have risked doing any permanent damage to her. He probably just gave her a heavy sedative of some kind to keep her quiet," his brother said reassuringly.
"I know, but I won't feel better about this until the doctor's examined her."
"Do you want me to stay with you until he arrives?"
"No. Why don't you get cleaned up?" Mitch cast him a quick sidelong glance. "Your head wound may not have been serious, but it certainly was bloody."
In spite of his pounding headache, Jon grinned and gingerly touched the wound at his temple. "Maybe you're right. Mabel was quite upset when she saw me."
After Jon had gone to his own room, Mitch remained at Espri's side. Though her breathing was regular, she did not stir, and he was very worried about her. Taking her hand in his, he lifted it to his lips and pressed a devoted kiss to her palm.
"I love you, Espri," he murmured, his gaze darkening with emotion as he realized how close he'd come to losing her. He shuddered from the forcefulness of his feelings, then he clasped her hand tightly in his as he continued his vigil.
"Mr. Mitchell?" Mabel knocked softly at the open door. "I've sent for Dr. Matlock, and he should be here soon. Is there anything else I can do for you?" She stepped into the room.
"No. Nothing right now, Mabel," he replied without looking up. "Just wait downstairs for the doctor and bring him to me as soon as he gets here."
"Yes, sir."
Though it was only fifteen minutes before the doctor arrived, the wait seemed endless to Mitch, and when he heard footsteps on the stairs he eagerly went into the hall to meet him.
"Dr. Matlock, thank you for coming. It's Espri . . . she's been given a drug and she's unconscious."
"I see. How did this happen?" Matlock followed Mitch to the room.
Mitch quickly explained the circumstances, and the doctor immediately asked, "Do you know what drug it was?"
"No." He shook his head wearily.
"Do you know how long ago it was administered?"
Again he had to admit his helplessness.
"Why don't you wait outside in the hall while I have a look at her," Dr. Matlock suggested. "I'll call you back in as soon as I've completed my examination."
Mitch hesitated, but he knew he had little choice. "I'll be right outside, if you need me."
"Fine, Mr. Williams."
Feeling like an outcast, Mitch was still standing in the hallway when Jon came out of his own suite some time later.
"Mitch? What's happening?"
"Dr. Matlock's examining her," he answered distractedly.
"I'm sure he'll be finished soon," Jon said, intending his words to have a calming effect.
But, as if he had ordained it, the door suddenly opened, and the doctor stepped out to join them.
"Well?" Mitch demanded worriedly. "How is she?"
"She'll be fine, Mr. Williams. If I had a better idea of when she was given this last dosage, I could more accurately predict when she'll be awakening. As it is, I'm almost certain she'll be fully recovered by morning."
Mitch's shoulders slumped in relief. "Thank God." After a moment he asked, "Other than the drug . . . how is she?"
"There's a slight bruise on her jaw, but otherwise she's uninjured."
"May I see her now?"
"Of course. Just let her rest. She'll awake of her own accord when the drug wears off."
"Thank you, Dr. Matlock."
"You're welcome." The doctor smiled as he watched Mitch rush back to his wife. Then, turning to Jon, he said, "I think I'd better take a look at your head."
As Jon led the doctor to his quarters, Mitch entered the room quietly and stood at the foot of the bed, unsure of what to do next. He didn't want to disturb Espri, yet now that he knew she hadn't been injured in any way, the temptation to hold her was overpowering. Stretching out carefully next to her, he took her hand in his once again and held it over his heart. Lovingly, his eyes traced her features, and when he noticed, for the first time, the discoloration on her jaw, anger, hot and dangerous, surged through him. With an effort, he put the emotion from him. Roland would never be able to hurt them again. It was over.
Sighing then, as some of the tension drained out of him, Mitch maintained his vigil, remaining unmoving at her side for the rest of the night until just before dawn, when exhaustion claimed him and he fell asleep.
It was after eight, and Jon sat alone in the dining room, eating sparingly of the breakfast Mabel had had prepared for him. His head wound was much improved this morning. Indeed, despite the bandage the doctor had insisted he wear for at least two days, he was feeling fine. He knew he had much to do, but he did not want to leave the house until he was certain Espri had completely recovered. He was lingering over his third cup of coffee when he heard someone at the front door, and he wondered who would be coming to the house so early in the day.
"He's right in here, Mr. Robinson," Mabel was saying as Jon looked up, surprised to see his attorney entering the dining room.
"Stephen! This is unexpected." Jon rose and went around the table to shake hands with his lawyer.
"Well, when I spoke with you yesterday, you said that you wanted these papers drawn up right away." Robinson handed Jon a portfolio.
"These are the divorce papers?" He was stunned by the other man's efficiency.
"Yes. Of course, the divorce won't be final for some time, but I wanted you to read these over before securing your wife's signat
ure."
"I understand."
"Good. When you've read them, get in touch with me and we'll set up a meeting at which your wife can sign them. I'll handle everything after that."
"I'd like to take care of this today, if you have the time."
"I should be in the office quite late. Just let me know when you need me, and I'll be happy to oblige."
"Thanks, Stephen. Do you have time for a cup of coffee?"
"Thanks, but no. I must be going. I'll expect to hear from you later today."
"Right."
When he'd gone, Jon stared down at the packet in his hand. This was it. The end—the severance of his marriage. Instead of regret, he felt only relief. His marriage to Catherine had been a mistake, a terrible one, and one he would rectify as quickly as the law allowed. Determined to seek out Catherine and set up the meeting with the lawyer, he called Mabel.
"Has there been any word from Catherine since she left?"
"No, sir."
"Damn," he muttered. "Send one of the servants to the Palace Hotel to see if she's registered there. If she's not, have them check the other hotels until they find her. I must see her today."
"Yes, sir."
He returned to the table and began to study the portfolio while he finished his coffee.
Espri awakened slowly, blinking against the brightness that assailed her. Brightness? Where was she? Gasping, she quickly sat up, terrified.
Mitch was startled to wakefulness by her sudden move, and he instinctively grabbed for her, wanting to reassure her. Espri, however, was still in the grip of fear, and she fought blindly against the man lying next to her.
"Let me go! Let me go!" she screamed, and she struggled to free herself from him. Only when Mitch's soft words and gentling hands finally broke through her horror-filled state of mind did she realize who was holding her.
"Espri, darling . . ." His voice was strained as he tried to calm her. "Sweetheart, it's me. I've got you. You're not with Chun Ki anymore. You're home . . . safe."
Shaking uncontrollably, she looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Mitch? Oh, thank God! I thought I'd never see you again." She threw her arms around him and clung to him in desperation. "How did you find me?"
"Shhh . . ." He held her, stroking the length of her back as she lay against him. "It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you're here with me now."
"I know . . . I know." She sobbed brokenly. "I was so frightened. That man put a chain on my leg, and he had a whip and—"
"It's over. Don't think of it anymore." Rage tore through Mitch as he thought of what Chun Ki had planned for her, but he controlled it.
Slowly, her crying diminished until she lay weakly in his arms, grateful for his tenderness. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You've been through hell," he told her fiercely. "I'm just thankful that you're not seriously hurt. How do you feel?"
Espri took a deep breath and moved slowly. "I'm a little sore, but other than that, I guess I'm fine."
He pressed her back into the pillows, his eyes meeting hers in perfect understanding, and he bent to kiss her softly. "I love you."
She smiled. "I know. And I love you."
Mitch took her words as encouragement and crushed her to him possessively. The troubles of the past night dissolved in the passion of their kiss, and he was breathing heavily when he released her.
"I was so worried. If Roland had allowed—"
"Roland? What did he have to do with this?"
"He's the one who arranged your kidnapping. He wanted us to sell the company to him, and he said you wouldn't be returned to me unless I agreed to the deal."
"You didn't sell? I know what the company means to you."
"No. Jon and I took care of everything."
"What did you do?"
Mitch wasn't sure whether he should tell her the truth, but he decided that she would hear it soon enough. "Jon got the note Roland had written to me before I did, and he went after him with a gun."
"Jon hasn't been hurt, has he?"
"Not really."
"Good." She breathed a sigh of relief.
"When I found out what was going on, I had Mabel notify the police to meet me at Roland's office. I got there before the police did, though. Roland was just ordering two of his gunmen to kill Jon and to do a better job on him than they did on me!"
"You mean Roland was responsible for your shanghaiing all those months ago?"
"Evidently," he replied. "Anyway, Roland and I got into a fight, and his gun went off. He's dead, Espri."
"Oh, no."
"The police were there. They know everything. They even came along with Jon and me when we went to get you back from Chun Ki."
"Who is he, and where was he keeping me?" she asked, remembering the menacing Chinese man and the windowless room where he'd held her prisoner.
"Chun Ki was a friend of Roland's. He runs houses of prostitution and gambling establishments in Chinatown," Mitch explained delicately. "He was keeping you in the back room of one of his 'parlor houses.'"
"Oh . . ." She swallowed nervously. "Mitch?"
"What?"
"What would have become of me if you hadn't saved me?"
Mitch scowled, but answered honestly. "Chun Ki wanted you for himself. I imagine he would have made you his mistress."
Espri pulled Mitch down to her and held him tightly. "Thank you for rescuing me."
"Sweetheart," he assured her as he kissed her again, "if anything had happened to you, I would have been a madman. You're my life, Espri. I wouldn't want to think about going on without you."
"I feel the same way about you, Mitch."
Their lips blended in a passionate kiss, and Mitch was about to caress her more intimately when there was a knock at the bedroom door.
"Yes? What is it?" he asked gruffly.
"It's Mabel, sir. I was just wondering if there's been any change in Miss Espri's condition."
Giving his wife a knowing glance, Mitch tucked the blanket closely about her and then called out to Mabel. "You can come in. She's awake."
"Oh, thank heavens!" the maid declared happily. She immediately entered the room. "Miss Espri, we were all so worried about you! This is just wonderful. Can I bring you both some breakfast?"
Mitch looked at Espri questioningly, and she nodded. As Mabel started to bustle happily from the room, he asked, "Is Jon up and about yet?"
"Yes, sir. He's been waiting for you in the dining room for some time now."
"I'd better go tell him you've come around." Mitch gave Espri an apologetic smile. "I know he was concerned about you."
"Do that." She kissed him quickly. "And tell him I'll see him later this afternoon."
"I will." Mitch rose and went downstairs.
Jon looked up expectantly when he heard footsteps coming toward the dining room. "Well, good morning. How's Espri?" he asked quickly.
"You'll be glad to know that she's just fine." Mitch went to the sideboard and poured himself a cup of coffee. Then he joined Jon at the table. "She asked me to tell you that she'd see you later today."
"Good. I'm relieved to know she's well."
"So am I," Mitch agreed solemnly, and then, noticing the papers spread out on the table, he asked, "What are those? Contracts?"
"No. My divorce papers. Robinson brought them by earlier. He wants me to read them before I set up a meeting at his office with Catherine, so she can sign them."
Mitch nodded. "Have you given any thought to what kind of settlement you'll be giving her?"
"I don't want her to have a penny of my money!"
"I understand your sentiments, but without a settlement of some kind, she's going to be destitute."
"So?"
"So, if you give her some money, stipulating that she leave town upon receipt of it, you'll be rid of her, but if you divorce her and leave her penniless . . ."
Despite his determination that Catherine would get nothing more from him, Jon knew Mitch was right. It would be
far easier to pay her off and get her out of town. Then he wouldn't have to deal with her in the future.
"I see your point," he said slowly. "I'll have Robinson put the terms in writing. She can sign that document along with the others."
"Good."
Catherine stared, unseeing, at the menu in her hand, while she listened closely to the conversation at the next table. What was it she had just heard? There had been a shooting last night and an important businessman had been killed? Roland had not shown up for their assignation last night, and though she had dismissed that as being due to some unavoidable complication, she was starting to worry. It was lunchtime and she still hadn't heard a word from him.
"His name was Stuart," the woman at the next table said to her companion. "Roland Stuart. According to the police, it was self-defense and . . ."
The woman's voice faded into oblivion as Catherine got to her feet, grabbed her things, and raced from the restaurant. Roland was dead! Killed by someone in self-defense. What was she going to do without him? Rushing back to her room, she dumped out the contents of her purse and carefully counted out the money she had left. Three hundred ninety dollars. That was it—every cent she had to her name!
It took a minute for her to realize that someone was knocking at her door. "Yes," she called out abstractly. "Who is it?"
"It's Jon, Catherine. Open up." His voice was cold and demanding.
Pulling herself together, she squared her shoulders and admitted him to the room. "What do you want?" she asked cautiously.
"I've come from my lawyer's office. He has all the paperwork done on our divorce, and if you'd care to come and sign the necessary papers, we can settle the matter now."
"What if I refuse to give you a divorce?" She was recklessly challenging him.
Jon's lips thinned in a semblance of a smile. "I see you've heard about Roland's death." He paused for effect. "If you choose to fight this divorce, my dear, I will smear your name from one end of San Francisco society to another, and I will provide no funds for your day-to-day living. On the other hand, if you come with me now and cooperate in the dissolution of our 'marriage,' I am prepared to settle upon you a sum that will support you comfortably for some time to come."
