Renegades And Revenge: Daughters 0f HBH (Half Breed Haven Book 8)

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Renegades And Revenge: Daughters 0f HBH (Half Breed Haven Book 8) Page 3

by A. M. Van Dorn


  "Well, folks, we appreciate your time given in speaking with us. We're just going to head out and take ourselves a gander at where this poor unfortunate soul came to a bad end." Cassandra took hold of Catalina's elbow as if she were about to guide her out of the fancy railroad car when she stopped and turned back.

  “So, you’re sure you have no idea why this stranger would be riding out to see you?” she asked causing Phoebe who had just poured herself a cup of tea from a silver serving pot that had been sitting smartly on the dining table to lower it from where she was bringing it up to her mouth.

  “I am sorry Miss Wilde, what makes you believe he was coming out to see us?”

  “Well, not you specifically but someone on the railroad. It’s the only reason anyone would be this far off the main trail. He was coming here for a reason.”

  Plucking a crystal decanter that sat on one corner of the leather top desk, Rhodes poured himself a drink.

  “I cannot imagine what he would be coming out here for or who he was coming to see. No one here was expecting any strangers.”

  "Yes, a real head-scratcher." she moved again as if they were about to leave but once more turned back to the man and woman.

  “Just don’t understand what a detective would be doing coming out to here.” This got Catalina’s attention as well as Rhodes and Belafonte. On the ride out, she had said nothing about the man being a detective. The man and woman exchanged a glance so quick it would have been easy to miss, but she hadn't missed it and if she hadn't Cassandra damn well wouldn't have either.

  “You say this man was a detective? How would you know that Miss Wilde?” Rhodes asked he swirled the liquor around in his glass before taking a sip of the brandy.

  “Saw the body. The man was wearing a silver belt buckle with an “X” in the square. Anyone who is and ever was a Pinkerton could tell you he was a man from one of our rival agencies. Xavier Redstone’s to be precise. The Xavier Redstone Continental Investigations Agency, quite a mouthful isn’t it?” she said breezily, “They all wear those belt buckles to distinguish themselves. It’s a point of pride with them.”

  “Oh, that’s silly, “Phoebe laughed, “If they are doing undercover investigations they aren’t going to advertise themselves as a detective.”

  Patiently Cassandra explained that of course they didn’t’ wear them when engaged in such work but going undercover was only a small portion of what a detective does. There were plenty of instances where a detective found it very beneficial to be known for what he does.

  “Please don’t think I’m trying to talk down to you ma’am. It’s not as if there would be any reason for you to be familiar with a detective after all. I wouldn’t imagine you’ve ever been investigated for anything of course!” Cassandra’s voice dripped with conviviality, but Catalina saw the probing nature of her eyes.

  Phoebe shook her head not really looking at them any longer but returned her attention to her tea as Rhodes smiled cordially.

  "Well, detective or no detective I have no idea what he could be doing here. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help."

  ***

  Following the sketch, the pair soon found themselves on a rocky slope leading to a base of the nearby hill. Cassandra was down her haunches examining a patch of crusty purplish dried blood on one of the rocks. Her eyes scanned the nearby hoof prints and nodded her head. Catalina watched as Cassandra’s eyes trailed up towards the nearby woods and she saw what her sister saw, the tracks that must have belonged to the detective’s horse leading up the hill until they disappeared into the thicket.

  Nearby an explosive blast went off as the railroad continued blasting the bypass out of the age-old Arizona stone. Catalina could easily see how the stranger's horse got spooked by the noise as their own horses gave nervous whinnies from where they had picketed them to a tree near the top of the slope.

  “Come on; let’s go have a look up there.” Cassandra urged but stopped as she saw that Catalina was looking up at the sun shielding her eyes. “I know what you’re thinking, it’s getting later, and we have to get back to help Lijuan and we will. I just want to take a look around to see if we can find the man’s horse.”

  Suddenly a faint sound caught their ears and Cassandra’s face hardened. “Now that sounds like a horse! Let’s go!”

  The two women charged up the hill and plunged into the woods. It was a tough go as the trees were so densely packed that the branches tore at their clothing and their faces and hands received a generous share of cuts and scrapes. Still, as they traversed down the opposite side of the hill, the sound of the horses whiny grew louder.

  Emerging on an overlook, they saw a black and brown quilted horse at the bottom of a gully that ran below. There was a small stream running through it, and the animal had its nose in the water slaking its thirst from the building Arizona heat.

  “Saddlebags,” Cassandra said next to her in a voice dripping with satisfaction. “I’m willing to bet there is something in them that will easily identify The Dex.”

  Catalina screwed her face up in puzzlement and put her hands on her hips, “The what? Say now?”

  Cassandra's lips turned upward as she laughed that the Pinkertons often referred to their rivals as Dexes, a mash-up of the word detective and the colorful and bombastic Redstone's first name.

  “Which reminds me, how come you didn’t say anythin’ to me about him bein’ a detective?”

  “Sorry, don’t take offense to it Cat. I just kept it to myself while I was trying to sort out what he could be doing out here and I was coming up with an empty bucket from that well. Now let’s-”

  Catalina flung her arm across Cassandra's chest to prevent her from moving, startling her. She gave her a puzzled look, and Catalina pointed down towards what she had just seen.

  Creeping up along the edge of the gorge was a mountain lion. The great muscular cat had its attention focused on the easy prey that was obliviously sipping water. Cassandra’s twin guns easily slid out of her greased holster as she moved to target them.

  “You plannin’ on shootin’ that?”

  "No, just going to scare it off. I want it gone so we can get that horse and anything in its saddlebags. You get ready to run down into that gorge and chase after it because if it's easily spooked, that filly is going to bolt just like the mountain lion when these guns get to sounding."

  “I gotcha. I’m ready Cass.”

  Silence fell between the women, and she aimed her shots to strike the ground just in front of the mammoth paws of the mountain lion. In a single beat of Catalina's heart, her sister fired. The rounds peppered the ground right on target, and with a mighty roar the mountain lion reared up.

  They gasped as it lost its balance and tumbled down the side of the ravine. Its body impacted the ground behind the horse accompanied by several large rocks that had become dislodged as the predator had somersaulted downward. It rose and shook its head, seemingly uninjured and sprinted down along the edge of the stream until it disappeared out of sight. The Wildes didn’t even see the moment that it vanished from view; they were too busy staring in utter bewilderment at what they were now seeing.

  .

  CHAPTER 3

  In the luxurious private car of Prescott Rhodes, the cool, calculating eyes of Phoebe Belafonte watched as her lover dressed down the thuggish Irishman that stood before them clutching his cap in front of him. The man was sweating profusely under the verbal barrage from Rhodes, and she knew the man would love nothing more than to reach out and choke the life out of her man.

  “You stand here asking for the other half of your money after you’ve managed to bumble this almost every step of the way?!”

  “Earned it fair and square.” The tarrier said sticking to his guns.

  “Were you not listening to a thing I just said? Your arguing in the middle of the street drew the attention of some lady lawman who was even claiming to be an ex-Pinkerton and I believe it. She was sharp; she knew Iannello was a detective. Now she’
s out poking around where you killed him-”

  “Paid to kill him, by you.” He interrupted causing Rhodes to glare at him before he continued. "What happens if she finds that horse? That was your first failure! After you rode up next to him and caved in his head, you needed to corral that horse! The fate of my love’s fortune is in those saddlebags. Now you need to go out and search for it again!"

  “I was out there until after dark looking for it last night. I told you I got close to it once but when I whistled it just ignored me and then it ran off.”

  Phoebe's fist snaked out and smashed a lavish vase that was one of the decorations in Rhodes's car, startling both men. She'd had enough! Five years of being married to an aging fool, stifling her urge to vomit when she had to perform her wifely duties of sex with a man who could have been her grandfather. At least the day had come when he could no longer rise to the occasion, but he had insisted on watching her pleasure herself, that being the only enjoyment he could get any longer.

  All the humiliation, all the degradations she had gone through not to mention Bennet Belafonte's grown children who had her number as a self-serving gold digger, even if Belafonte could not see it himself. They had pushed the old man too far in their war against her, and he had stunned them all. To Phoebe's delight and to the horror of the Bellefonte children they had been cut out of his will in favor of Phoebe. She now stood to inherit it all when he died, all the wealth, including one half of the profitable surveying company Belafonte, had formed in his youth with Prescott's long-dead father.

  Her fingers tightened around the crumpled telegram she had balled up in her hand. She had intended to burn it multiple times since receiving it the day before, but she couldn’t seem to bring herself to destroy the hated thing when she knew full well that she should, it was the harbinger to the collapsing house of cards around her.

  Everything had been so perfect up until late yesterday afternoon. She and Prescott were engaged in their favorite activity in the entire world, making love. The affair had started long before she came from New York to “check in” on this latest project. Their paths had crossed the first time in the days leading up to her wedding to the elderly Bennet. In fact, after Bennet had dropped into a slumber on their wedding night after exhausting himself in his feeble attempts to pleasure her, she had snuck out and made her way to Prescott’s room and the passion that had been simmering between them exploded.

  Now the possibility of losing everything surrounded her like a cloak and she knew that she had to cast it off. There was no way she was going back to being the low paid librarian who had the good fortune of being on duty in the Boston Public Library the day Bennet Belafonte and another gentleman had come in off the street. The pair had made a wager, and only a dictionary could settle it, so they had stopped their carriage at the library they were passing and had come in to settle it.

  On that day Belafonte had lost the wager but won himself a wife. Phoebe had seen the interest in his eyes, and she had known right then and there she had just found a meal ticket, a way out of her miserable little life in the Boston Commons. It had taken so little effort, and in only a month's time, they had wed. She had earned every penny that she had spent by being the aging man's plaything. Now as the telegram had informed her, she was free of him forever, but in a fluke of horrendous timing, it could all slip away. No! She would not let it!

  Her index finger poked Doyle’s chest furiously, “You need to get on your horse out there and get your ass back into the hills around here and find that document!”

  “You mean this one?”

  Phoebe’s mouth gaped, and the men gasped as they all spun around towards the door that entered from the small kitchen area. Standing in the doorway waving the legal document that was the key to everything was the attractive blonde from earlier.

  “Miss- Miss Wilde.” Rhodes stammered as he fought to slip back into his role as a cordial gentleman. "What a surprise to see you again," he said as Phoebe clinched her teeth. Why was he even bothering trying to ignore the fact that she had the paper? It was pointless; if she had it, then she was on to them. Yet he continued.

  “Would you care for a drink and we can discuss whatever it is that you think you have there?”

  "Oh, so now you want to offer us a beverage. I noticed earlier both of you fixed drinks for yourself but never made an offer to my sister and I. Clear sign that you were interested in us coming and going as quickly as possible. I would imagine having the law around would cause you some distress given what you appear to have done here." The voice was steady and with a coldness to it, but Phoebe noticed for just a moment the woman's eyes looked beyond the trio as if she was searching for someone. Instinctively Phoebe whirled around expecting to find the Mexican sister standing there, but there was only an empty railroad car behind them. A gravelly voice drew her attention forward again immediately.

  "I'll just be taking that paper missy," Doyle said as he took a step in the direction of Cassandra. In shocking swiftness, the document was shoved into one of her pockets, and her hands dropped down and gripped the handles of the twin guns that's that adorned each side of her curvaceous waist and she raised one eyebrow in a clear warning. Only a foot separated the pair, but Doyle stopped his advance.

  “That paper made interesting reading. A legal document waiving all your rights and bequeaths under the terms of Mister Bennet Belafonte’s will. Forsaking any claims to his wealth upon his death. Signed by you and witnessed and notarized by one Mister John Iannello, dated yesterday.” The woman tilted her head and then fixed a sharp gaze on them.

  "I don't have all the details, but I'll get them. Right now, I'm taking you all in on suspicion of murder."

  Phoebe looked over at her love and he was sweating now, there was even a slight trembling of his hands, but suddenly he seemed to steel himself, and he clenched his fists tights. It appeared he had accepted the reality of the situation and was prepared to become the take charge man that she knew and loved. Phoebe sucked in her breath and waited for whatever move he was going to make.

  "Doyle! Right now, this is still contained in this room. We can always stage another accident. Kill her, and I'll triple what I'm paying you!"

  Greed! It can make a timid man bold and the boldest man even more daring Phoebe marveled as Doyle sprang into action, seemingly not even taking a moment to debate the risk. The pair of guns were swinging upward, but Doyle struck with the swiftness of a snake. His meaty hands grabbed both barrels simultaneously and yanked them from her hands hurtling them sideways. One careened into the wood paneling and dropped out of sight, and the other smashed through one of the side windows.

  With delight Phoebe basked in the sight of shock in the Wilde woman's green eyes, Doyle's feat was no doubt something she'd never encountered before. Now the bitch was going to have her ass handed to her for daring to think she could plant herself in a world she didn't belong in. Law enforcement was the province of men, and a woman had no business being there any more than a man attempting to be a midwife or a nanny. She'd said she had gotten her job from Governor Duvalier and Phoebe unaware the man was her uncle figured she'd spread her legs to get that shiny tin badge. Such measures, after all, she knew something about.

  Phoebe’s joy was cut short by two simultaneous events. First as the tarrier’s huge hands reached out to slam down on the woman’s shoulders and drive her to the floor, Cassandra Wilde’s right fist shot up in a sweeping arc, quickly followed by her left fist. Doyle’s head jerked from one side and to the other from the blows. His bellow of anger was lost amidst the second event, the dreadful shattering of glass. Phoebe’s scream assailed everyone’s ears as between her and Rhodes a figured dropped down from above in a shower of glass.

  CHAPTER 4

  As her boots struck the floor of the railcar Catalina's knees jackknifed and her behind nearly hit the floor. A triangular shard of glass falling from above sliced her forearm even as her well-muscled legs propelled her back to a standing position. She didn
't even have a chance to register the pain that was beginning to mushroom out from the cut as Rhodes leaped at her and snaked his arm around her neck.

  Securely locked in the crook of the man’s arm with his heated snarls booming in her ears she began to struggle. As she fought her eyes caught the sight of Phoebe Belafonte turning tail and running out of the rail car. Struggling as he fought to choke her she pivoted around and saw Cassandra dodging blows from the big Irish railroad worker.

  She seized his strong arm and fought to pull it away from her throat. Her nails dug into the cloth of his well-tailored suit, but it was to no avail. Rhodes wasn’t going to lose his grip. Cassandra’s words before they had made their move on the private car briefly flashed across her mind, let’s take them alive if we can! Now with her breath nearly out of her body there wasn't any choice. Abandoning her struggle to remove his arm, her hand dropped down to her Colt .45 and tugged it out of her holster. As she fought to raise the gun high enough to deliver a headshot to him, he must have realized her intent and that he was seconds away from death.

  Suddenly his free hand went up and seized an iron grip around her wrist, the pair struggling for control of the gun. Catalina knew she was stronger than most women due to the highly physical work that she did around the ranch, but Rhodes was strong as well, far stronger than she’d expect a city slicker to be, Hell she doubted he’d ever actually tramped around out in the field doing actual surveying like Cassandra’s “friend” with the cabin. Still, the man probably kept himself in shape to be able to lay young honeys like Phoebe if what Cass suspected was true.

  Well, no way I'm getting' shot with my own gun! I gotta end this right quick, right now! Their struggles had brought them close to one of the finely panel walls, and Catalina saw her chance. She jumped up raising her boots off the ground, planting them against the wall and gave them a mighty thrust all in one split second fluid movement.

 

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