“Miss O’Roarke.” The subject of her thoughts sailed into the room and held out his hand.
Out of habit, Mary stood, leaving her luggage on the floor, but she did not offer her own hand in return.
His features remained placid even as his hand lowered, but his eyes... She repressed a shudder. “Good morning, Mr. Langdon. Have you brought the contract?”
“Ah, yes, the contract.” His lips stretched into an alarming half circle. “Unfortunately, circumstances have changed, and we will need to renegotiate terms.”
Mary froze and a trembling started in her stomach, working through her body until her knees ached.
“You see—” his brows quirked up and he tapped his finger against his chin “—this morning I experienced a most unsettling and inconvenient loss. Quite unexpectedly my sister decided to die, thus ruining my plans for...” He flashed his teeth at her. “Well...for you, my dear.”
Mary couldn’t breathe. A paralysis had hold of her.
“I see you’re afraid. Very good.” His eyes slit. He moved toward her and his fingers pressed roughly against her neck. “Your pulse is jumping. Rather like a little rabbit leaping away. That’s quite exciting.... May I call you Mary?”
She couldn’t move. Fright had rooted her to the floor and every muscle in her body locked into place. This had been a colossal mistake. What had she done? “Where’s Josie?” she managed to say through lips that felt heavy and numb.
“Josie is the least of your worries,” he whispered, bringing his face close to hers. His eyes glowed with an unnatural fervor. “Mmm, your vein is pulsing.”
His fingers dug into her neck and his thumb crept to the other side. He squeezed. Mary wanted to gag, to shut her eyes, to melt through the floor and disappear.
He released her and backed away. She sucked in air, too much, and her vision wavered.
“Don’t faint, my dear girl. That wouldn’t do. Terror is good for you. It speeds blood flow, increases awareness... Shall we talk a bit?” The door behind him opened and he turned to Baggs. “Send someone in with tea, would you? The news of my sister’s demise has greatly upset our newest employee.”
The door shut and Mr. Langdon turned back to her. “Have a seat. Rest your legs and take some steady breaths. I have a new proposition for you.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Since my sister has passed away, my proposal of yesterday has become void. Furthermore, my needs have changed. I’m aware of your mother’s reputation. Have you ever considered following in her footsteps? That’s what I’m offering you now.” A smug smile stretched his lips, as though he believed he’d already won. “A steady job at my side, seeing to my needs, in exchange for Josie. You’ll have the full care of her, should you accept this offer.”
Mary felt even more faint. His gaze burrowed into her, intrusive and cold.
She sank onto the couch, wishing to disappear within its confines. Never would she accept what he offered.
Never.
Could she bolt for the servantsʼ hallway? What would happen if he followed? Her derringer was in her luggage, but dare she use it? She cut her eyes in his direction. He studied her as though she was a trifle to be bought in a store.
Her mind whirled. Mrs. Silver...dead. What about Josie? Was she safe? If she didn’t accept this plan, who would protect Josie? She desperately wanted to be brave and stand up to Mr. Langdon, but the present seemed to be colliding with the past. She looked at him and saw Mendez.
She blinked. His features did resemble her late captor’s, though his complexion was much lighter.
“Yes, you’re putting it together, aren’t you?” The smile on his lips chilled her. “Do you really think I stumbled onto that ranch house by accident? It’s nestled in a valley and blends so well that none of my men have been able to find the place. It took me, the one with brains, to follow my cousin’s directions accurately.”
Her breath caught. It couldn’t be...could it?
“Getting Josie to you was a small feat. You see, I’ve had plans for a long time now, and they’ve been foiled by ignorant men. Success took a woman’s help, whether she realized it or not.” He walked forward and sat beside her. The couch sank and she pulled back, away.
His breath, rank and sour, puffed over her. “I don’t mean to bore you with the details, only to let you know you’re rather stuck. You see, my plans have been in place since my cousin was ruthlessly murdered by that employer of yours.”
He thought Lou killed Mendez? She met Mr. Langdon’s crazy eyes and finally felt as if she could breathe. The adrenaline rush was fading, leaving a tiredness she must shake off if she was to survive this.
“Lou didn’t kill Mendez,” she told him shakily.
“Oh, he surely did.”
“Mendez was poisoned. I saw him myself.”
“Do you think I care how it happened or who caused it? My cousin was assigned a simple job. Find Striker and bring you back to me. I couldn’t allow his obsession for Striker to stand in the way of what I wanted . He died trying to fulfill his duty. Don’t you think I know who was in charge at that hideaway? You must understand, Mendez was my favorite cousin. We shared certain...qualities.”
“I—I don’t understand.... Why did you want me?”
“You don’t remember?” His brows pulled together and his lips tightened. “My father visited your mother often. He brought me when I was twelve, and that’s when I first saw you.”
A rush of sickness rose in her stomach. She remembered him now. A young boy who had stared so much she felt uncomfortable and never met his gaze. She couldn’t recall his eye color, perhaps because she’d avoided him so much. Months later, she and her mother left in search of her father, and then her mother had dropped her off at Trevor’s.
“How did you find me?”
“By chance, as it were. I saw your mother on a business trip when I was a young man. She was frantic, searching for your father, and I realized we could help each other.”
“You bribed her.”
“It didn’t take much. Women are emotional creatures, and your mother’s loyalty is commendable. Too bad your father died before she could reach him.”
Mary pressed her fingertips against her forehead, willing the ache to recede. All this time she’d blamed Trevor’s mother for selling her, but it had been her mother who’d led the villains straight to her door.
Lord, help me. The prayer rose in her heart and crossed her lips.
Mr. Langdon uttered a harsh noise that masqueraded as a laugh. “God isn’t anywhere near you. In fact, I’m quite certain He abandoned you long ago, right about the time your father left.”
She flinched.
“That’s right. I know all about him. Your mother, too. Like I said, she’s quite loyal for a woman. Back to my proposition. In a moment, Baggs will be bringing your tea and some special paperwork regarding my newest offer. Don’t look so disgusted. You worked at Julia’s brothel, did you not? The one your mother left you at to chase down her foolish husband, the place where I found you.”
“I was a seamstress, nothing more.” The words sounded weak, even to her ears. She kept thinking of Lou’s the lady means nothing to me, and now Mr. Langdon’s assertion God was nowhere near. Had God left her again? Would He allow a repeat of the past? She could not bear such a thing, and yet it seemed certain to occur.
“You could have been more than—” his hand fluttered toward her “—this. You are more.” He placed his hand on her knee and squeezed painfully. “Stay here, with me. You’ll have your Josie then.”
A knock sounded on the door.
“Come in.” Mr. Langdon slithered to the other side of the couch.
Mary swallowed hard. She could make it to the door, but how would she escape this house?
Silverware clinked as Mr. Baggs shuffled into the room. Pattering steps followed
Baggs and then Josie burst into the room, her eyes pink and tear-stained.
“Miss Mary,” she cried and launched herself at the couch.
Mary caught her, pulled her close and buried her face in Josie’s hair. My little girl. The thought didn’t startle her, but rather strengthened her. She would do almost anything to save Josie. She’d wait for the opportunity and then be gone from this place.
And Josie would go with her.
That’s kidnapping, prodded a voice from inside.
But what other option did she have?
“How did she get out?” Langdon’s voice bit into the room. He grabbed Josie’s arm, but Mary smacked his hand and he withdrew, brows narrowing into angry arrows. “You will pay for that.”
“I apologize, sir, but there’s a gentleman at the door for you. It won’t wait. You might want to see him out quickly.” Mr. Baggs inclined his head and whatever that meant, it propelled Mr. Langdon to his feet.
“Do you want me to take the girl?” asked Mr. Baggs.
Josie’s uncle looked at them, a calculating gleam in his eye. “No, let her stay. She shall encourage Miss O’Roarke in her decision, no doubt. Just keep an eye on them, Baggs.”
Mr. Langdon swished out of the room. Josie pulled away from Mary, tears spilling over her cheeks. “My mommy is dead.”
“I know, sweetheart.” She smoothed an errant strand out of Josie’s eyes as her thoughts raced. This was their one opportunity, but could she do it? Could she get them out? She glanced at Baggs. Her only option was to overpower him somehow, but the thought rattled her. Hitting an old man did not seem the right thing to do.
Mr. Baggs cleared his throat. He blinked and held out a hand to Josie. “I might miss your chatter. That’s all I have to say.”
“Why, Baggs, I shall miss you, too!” Josie didn’t take his hand but instead moved out of Mary’s embrace. As she beckoned Baggs closer, Mary stood and reached for the teapot.
Josie leaned up and planted a little kiss on the man’s weathered cheek. His eyes met Mary’s as she raised the pitcher. Her stomach churned.
“Do it,” he said, “or it’s my life on the line. There’s a door there.” He pointed.
“That’s my hideaway.” Josie hopped over and tugged open the door Mr. Baggs had brought Mary through earlier.
“Wait for me in the hallway,” said Mary, but Josie had already disappeared behind the door. She swallowed hard. “I am truly sorry, Mr. Baggs, and hope I do not hurt you.”
He gave her a curt nod. Drawing a deep breath, she brought the pitcher down upon his head. He groaned and crumpled to the floor. A line of blood appeared on the right side of his forehead.
Mary held in her sob and set the pitcher down. She dug in her luggage, retrieved her derringer and bullets and slid them in the pocket of her skirt. There was no Lou or Trevor here today. The onus rested upon her, and she’d do whatever necessary to save Josie. She raced to the door, spotted Josie near the stairs and ran toward their escape.
* * *
Lou paced the library, twirling his hat in his hands, as he waited for Mrs. Silver to appear. After his meeting this morning with O’Leary, he’d gone straight to the hotel to fetch Mary, only to find her room empty. While staring at the neatly made bed, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt fear. True, bloodcurdling fear.
Despite its paralyzing hold, he forced himself to go to his office and make a telephone call to the director himself. After relaying the smuggler’s name and the suspected boat carrying Canadian whiskey, Lou hightailed it out of there and headed to the Silvers’.
Where he’d found nothing of Mary.
Something was wrong.
She should have been here by now. Where else could she have gone? He perused the hangings on the walls, impatiently tapping his hat against his thigh. Dusty antiques. Family photographs. Langdon looked supremely arrogant in his still shot.
“Mr. Riley. To what do I owe this visit?” Langdon appeared in the doorway, a smirk marring his even features. Smart man kept his distance, though.
“I’m here to speak with Mrs. Silver.”
“Ah.” His smirk grew. “She has unfortunately passed on, negating your need to see her. I shall show you to the door.”
Lou’s fingers clenched the brim of his hat. “Where’s Josie?”
“That’s none of your business, officer of the law or no. She’s my ward. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have funeral arrangements to attend to.”
He took a deep breath and settled into the kind of calm that gave a man an edge over his opponent. And Langdon was worse than an opponent. He stalked toward him. The man faltered for a moment but didn’t budge.
“I smell...something.” Lou sniffed. If this guy was a bootlegger, and based on O’Leary’s notes, Lou felt certain he was, there should be a kind of hint somewhere.
“Perfume from the arrangements. My sister’s favorite.”
“Indeed.” He took another breath and realized it was true, he did smell something floral, and not the prohibited whiskey he’d been ready to accuse Langdon of importing. “Funeral flowers aren’t a pleasant smell on you, but I suppose it works well to mask the odor from your day job.... You know I work for the Bureau of Investigation, right?”
“You flashed your badge in my face.”
“You’re a smart man. Maybe coming into money soon?” Lou gestured around him, watching Langdon’s face closely.
His lids flickered. “The terms of the will have yet to be disclosed.”
“Maybe you’ve got your own money?”
“Maybe it’s time for you to leave, Special Agent.”
“Yeah, because your heart is real broken by your sister’s death.” Lou moved closer still, frowning when he whiffed that scent again. Something unforgettable... Mary.
His jaw clamped. Deliberately he loosened his jaw and bestowed a predatory smile on Langdon. “Heard you’re a rich man. In fact, I have a source who tells me your income is swimmingly large. You own a boat, right?”
“Are you trying to accuse me of something? You’re in my house, on my property—”
“You mean your sister’s?”
Langdon’s face settled into stubborn lines. “Get out of this house.”
Lou held up his hands. “Relax. I’m just here to pick up Mary.”
“Who?” But Langdon’s eyes flickered with recognition.
“Your new employee,” he said smoothly. “She asked me to meet her here.”
“Oh, yes, the nanny. She left moments before you arrived.”
“Really?” He leaned forward, anger a frigid weight in his chest. “I smell her.”
Langdon chuckled. “She’s very, how shall I put it? Friendly.”
Lou’s gaze snapped up to meet Langdon’s hard eyes. He had to play this smart. “Which way did she go?”
“The same way her type always goes. Now kindly leave this house or I’ll have you escorted out.”
“Thanks for your...help.” Lou flashed his teeth. “I’ll be back, though, and next time you might want to be more convincing.”
He spun and headed toward the door. He felt Langdon behind him and his rage grew. Fine way God took care of Mary. Bringing her to this place, putting her right into the hands of danger. They stepped into the hall and that was when Lou heard what had been covered by the carpeted study.
An uneven tap behind him. A sound that resonated in his memory. He stopped abruptly and faced Langdon. His gaze dropped to Langdon’s boots. Shiny, definitely expensive and outfitted with spurs. A vision of a dark alley crept through him. Moonlight. A gunshot and pain...
“Problem?”
Lou tucked his thoughts away and forced a grim smile. “Nope. Just admiring your shoes.”
“Some say vanity is an evil thing, but it’s served me well. I call these my lucky spurs. When I wear them, great thi
ngs happen.” Langdon’s eyes flashed, belying his amused tone.
“Looks like I need a pair of those.” Lou pulled on his hat, tipped it and scooted out of the house. Once down the porch, he walked the block, turned a corner and hurried across the street. Sliding into the shadows of a different house, he removed his hat, untucked his shirt, slicked his hair back and stuck a piece of gum in his mouth.
The disguise would have to do for now. He bent the rim of his hat upward on the sides. It would ruin the fit and the leather, but circumstances called for it. He could always buy a new one. Adjusting his gait, he meandered down the sidewalk until he passed the Silversʼ place. One house down, he found a hiding spot near a newer home’s expansive porch.
No gate and the perfect spot to blend in.
From here he could see everyone entering and leaving the front of the Silversʼ. The servantsʼ quarters looked to be on the side of the house, and he thought he could see a gate exit near the backyard. This was the optimum vantage point.
He settled into the corner where the stairs met the house and waited. Heavy clouds warned of impending rain. There was a definite bite to the air. He hoped Mary was safe.
She might be in the house, but without a warrant, he couldn’t force his way in there. She should have stayed at the hotel and never taken this deal. Trusted him to take care of Josie. He chewed his gum, hoping for inspiration to kick in.
He could leave and get some men to follow Langdon. Now that he knew who his shooter was, it made more sense to personally follow him, but who’d take care of Mary? She couldn’t wander Portland for long by herself. She didn’t have any money that he knew of for a ticket home.
And he was sure she wouldn’t leave Josie.
He couldn’t, either. For all he knew, the will stipulated Josie be sent to relatives, but if it called for her to be left with Langdon... He mashed his gum. Not good.
This was the problem in getting involved with people. He liked his job of catching criminals. Investigating crimes. He didn’t like getting close because it worried him, and a worried man couldn’t accomplish anything.
Rocky Mountain Dreams & Family on the Range Page 43