“Good morning, McShane. Harris,” she said, smiling.
Cade scowled. Harris responded with a pleasant, “Good morning, ma’am.” He went to the closed door leading to William’s office, gave a sharp rap, and stuck his head inside. “Miss Long and Agent McShane, sir.”
“Send them in.”
Lilly preceded Cade into the office and, after shaking hands with her boss, took her customary seat across from him.
“Did you send word about the meeting to Mr. Linedecker?” William asked his secretary. There was a hint of irritation in his eyes.
“Yes, sir. He must be running late.”
Simon? Had he been called in to give his opinion about their plan? A quiver of pleasure shot through her at the thought of again seeing the young attorney. At that moment, there was a commotion in the outer office, including murmuring, footsteps, and a slamming door. Lilly and Cade turned. A man who stood head and shoulders taller than Harris was positioned directly behind him.
“I’m sorry I’m late, sir,” Simon said from the doorway. “The horse pulling my cab threw a shoe, and I had to walk several blocks.”
“That happens. Come in, Mr. Linedecker,” William said.
He did as he was bidden, and Harris closed the door behind him. Smiling, Lilly turned toward the man who had helped her in a time when others had turned her away. Cade had risen and was looking over the newcomer.
“Simon, I believe you know Miss Long,” William stated.
“Indeed, I do,” the attorney said, taking both her hands in his and giving them a squeeze. “How are you, Miss Long?”
“Never better, Mr. Linedecker.” She cast a surreptitious glance at her partner, who looked as if he’d just taken a bite of a green persimmon. What on earth was the matter with the wretched man, anyway? He was always in a foul mood over something or other.
“That’s good to hear.” Simon frowned. “I do hope you’ve recovered from the bad news about your marriage.”
“Oh, yes,” Lilly said in a breezy tone, doing her best to pretend that learning that she had given her purity to a man she was not really married to had not destroyed another bit of her belief in love. She laughed lightly. “I’m fine. Though it was a blow to my self-esteem and shredded what reputation I had, it was a blessing in disguise.”
Cade cleared his throat—more as a way of ending the little tête à tête than anything—and William introduced the two men. Simon pumped Cade’s hand, his nervousness obvious. Cade wore his most stern, professional countenance.
“Did you speak to your sister?” William asked Cade as Simon settled onto the small settee.
“I did, and she’s willing to help us.”
Simon made a noise, and when everyone looked his way, he smiled and covered a cough.
“Excellent. I spoke to my banker friend who has direct knowledge about the Dusty Knowles property.”
“Who is Dusty Knowles?” Simon asked.
“I forgot you weren’t here yesterday,” William said. “I need to catch you up on what’s going on.” He quickly outlined Nora’s situation and their tentative plan. Simon appeared to be both fascinated by the situation and sickened.
“Mr. Knowles packed up and moved his operation to California. Fortunately for us, his place in Ft. Worth is right in the heart of the Acre. We can use it as the place that was given to Erin.” William looked from Cade to Lilly. “The three of you can decide who her generous benefactor is.”
“Why would anyone just leave a business for the banks to repossess and not try to sell it instead?” Lilly asked the question that had been bothering her since she’d heard the story the day before.
“My guess would be that Dusty ticked off the local law or owed someone money,” Cade offered. “He probably needed to get out of town fast.”
“What do you mean? Who would he owe besides the bank?” Simon asked, pushing his glasses up with a forefinger.
Cade’s impatience with the unsophisticated attorney was evident to everyone in the room except, perhaps, Simon. “It’s common for people who break the law to give money to shady law enforcement officers, so that they will look the other way, and it’s important to stay on their good side. Maybe Dusty wasn’t keeping up his end of the bargain.”
“Are you saying that law enforcement is paid to turn a blind eye to crime?” Simon asked.
Lilly was as shocked as Simon. She had always assumed that law officers were law-abiding citizens.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“B—But isn’t that wrong? Illegal?” she asked.
“Of course it is. I thought you’d figured out that the world isn’t always a nice place, Lilly.”
Clearly, she hadn’t, but it was something she was learning fast.
“My friend has contacted the banker who took the dance hall when Dusty defaulted,” William said. “And since it’s been sitting vacant for so long, he’s agreed to let us use it for our undertaking.” He turned to Simon. “Do you think you can have the papers drawn up showing the transfer of the building and furnishings to Cade’s sister, Erin McShane, by this afternoon?”
“She’ll be going as Erin O’Toole,” Cade corrected.
Simon looked from one man to the other, and his face paled. Still, he met his boss’s gaze squarely. “I’m sorry, sir, I can’t do that.”
William’s mouth tightened in disapproval. “Any particular reason?”
“Simply put, in my mind, this arrangement isn’t a legal transaction. If I draw up papers deeding that building to Agent McShane’s sister and someone other than the actual owner signs them, not to mention that Miss . . . McShane will be signing as Miss O’Toole, I fear I could be disbarred or lose my license. I can’t let that happen.”
Since Lilly knew nothing of the law, she didn’t know what to make of Simon’s refusal. It was clear, though, that he was unaware that the agency operated on the premise that the ends justified the means, which meant the truth could be stretched and the rule of law taken to the very edge of its legal limits . . . and sometimes beyond. A lesson she had learned in New Orleans.
“Good grief, man!” William barked. “It isn’t as if we’re defrauding anyone. We’re trying to save some lives here.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” Simon looked like an obstinate little boy daring to defy his father. “If you feel you must replace me with someone who doesn’t mind”—his voice trailed away, and he gave a vague wave of his hand—“this sort of thing, I understand.”
Lilly recalled how the struggling lawyer had been only too happy to take on her divorce case when no one else would. Leaving his struggling practice for steady employment with the premiere detective agency had been taking a giant step of faith, and refusing to comply with the agency’s wishes was a huge risk. To be willing to toss a budding career away for your morals and ethics was definitely brave and decidedly unwise.
William regarded the younger man for several seconds. “Fine. That will be all, Linedecker.”
Simon looked stricken at having been dismissed without further dialogue. He unfolded his lanky frame from the settee and strode toward the door, his head high.
“I’ll have Harris type it up for us,” William was saying.
“Sir?”
“Yes, Linedecker?”
“Am I to still consider myself an employee of the agency?”
“For the love of all that’s holy,” William said, running short of patience. “Of course, you still work here. I may not be happy with your thinking, but I admire it, nonetheless. Now go! We have things to do.”
Simon left without another word.
“Lilly, you can sign for Erin, and I’ll sign as Dusty. It will be ready by this afternoon. I’ll get tickets for you all on the next train headed that way. Can your sister be ready?”
“She will be.”
CHAPTER 6
The long rail journey was over. The three of them had taken a train from Chicago to St. Louis, where they switched to the St. Louis, Iron Mountain and
Southern Line. Those rails headed south through Poplar Bluff, Missouri, and into Arkansas, rattling through Bald Knob, a small place that had been established just that year.
From there the train rumbled on to Malvern, which, according to the line’s information, was only twenty-two miles from the healing baths at Hot Springs. After sleeping in a Pullman, the thought of a hot, healing bath sounded wonderful, and Lilly vowed she would visit the popular spa one day.
They rolled through the southwest portion of the state, to Texarkana, where they once again changed lines. The Texas and Pacific would take them straight into Ft. Worth, depositing them in the heart of the infamous “Paris of the Plains.”
If Lilly had imagined that she would form some sort of bond with Erin during the trip, she was mistaken. Cade’s baby sister was not inclined to much talk, though she did answer any and all questions Lilly had about how to conduct herself once they reached their destination. Erin’s advice was to act unafraid of anything, and to stick as close to Cade as possible.
“The last thing I need is for something to happen to you.”
The intensity in Erin’s voice was unexpected. Why would Cade’s sister think she would be blamed if anything happened to Lilly?
“I can take care of myself,” she’d said, not at all sure she could.
“Then see that you do, and everything will be peachy, won’t it?” had been Erin’s reply. And that had been the end of the conversation.
Lilly had expected to remake her wardrobe to be more in keeping with her new station in life, but to her surprise, Erin pointed out that they were infiltrating the infamous red-light district under the premise of setting up a tasteful, high-class establishment that would appeal to the successful men of the city. They would dress with style and class instead of dressing like what they were pretending to be.
Erin told them that her arrival would not endear her to the owners of the many established sporting houses, but then, the object was to get information, not make friends.
Darkness was fast approaching when they pulled into the station. Several men almost knocked down Lilly in their eagerness to quench their desire for a drink and a woman. When Cade grabbed one of them by the arm and told him to apologize, she expected to see a fight, but after meeting Cade’s cold, blue stare, the man showed more sense than he looked to have, murmured the requisite expression of regret, and went on his way.
She expected Cade to whistle for a buggy, but, instead, Erin beckoned to a young man standing next to a plain wagon, looking for a fare. When he saw her waving, he lost no time getting to her side.
Lilly looked askance at her partner.
“I’m just the bodyguard, lass. She’s the boss, remember?”
Lilly’s eyes widened. She hadn’t remembered. She needed to be on her toes, or she’d be making some horrible mistake that could put their whole operation in jeopardy.
“Need to go to a hotel, ma’am?”
Erin bestowed a brilliant smile on the driver. “Actually, we’d like to be taken to Dusty Knowles’s old place.”
“That’d be The Thirsty Traveler,” the youth said. “It’s only a few blocks from here. You know it’s closed.”
“I do,” Erin said in a teasing voice, “but it may not be for long.” The driver looked intrigued, and Lilly knew that he would waste no time in passing on the gossip as soon as he dropped them off.
The baggage was loaded, Cade helped the ladies into the dray, and they were rolling down the street. Some men from the train had rented a buggy and were yelling and waving, as if they’d spotted someone they knew. Looking up, Lilly saw several doves hanging over the balconies of their respective houses, almost as if they were checking out the new arrivals.
Some were seated on the railing, clad in frilly chemises and bloomers, newly curled hair hanging over their shoulders, while wavy tendrils of smoke from their cigarillos drifted up toward the darkening sky. Others leaned forward, showing their wares off to their best advantage. As Colleen McKenna had been, they were all underdressed and overly made-up.
If Lilly was fascinated by the ladies of the evening waiting to go to work, the men gathered outside the various establishments were equally interested in the two respectable-looking women riding in the wagon. No doubt they were wondering what the women were doing in this part of town with only one lone male to accompany them.
“You thinkin’ about opening up Dusty’s place?” the driver asked, unable to contain his curiosity. “No offense, but you ladies don’t seem the type to fit in here. You look more . . . refined.”
“Why thank you, sir,” Erin said, with a little laugh. “I certainly take no offense to that. But I am considering reopening The Thirsty Traveler.”
Lilly listened. She was certain that anything said would be common knowledge by this time tomorrow.
“I’m here trying to gather all the information I can before making my decision,” Erin told him. “Tell me, is this place as bad as rumors have it?”
“Worse,” the man told her without a second’s hesitation. “There’s not a night goes by without someone getting knifed, shot, or robbed. If there’s only a fracas or two, it’s a slow evening. I don’t remember the last time we had a slow night.”
“It sounds pretty rough,” Cade said.
“I guess it is, but what else can you expect from a bunch of buffalo hunters, cowboys, and gunmen? Add the morphine, cockfighting, and the horse racing, and this place is just a calamity waitin’ to happen.”
Morphine? Lilly had heard all about the addicting drug, but had never imagined that she would come into contact with anyone using it.
“What about the law?” she asked.
“They pretty much leave the gamblers and drinkers alone, but the dance halls and the girls, now that’s another thing. They get rounded up pretty regular.”
“Are these cowboys and gunmen you’re talking about cruel with the girls?” Erin asked, playing her role to the hilt. “If they are, I need to put out the word that I won’t have it. I plan to run a quality establishment.”
“Aw,” he drawled. “I guess a fella gets out of hand from time to time. That’s just the business, ain’t it? A lot of the doves kill themselves to get out of the life.”
So, Nora hadn’t been exaggerating. Thank goodness, she was made of sterner stuff. Lilly could still sense the strength of the words in her friend’s letter when Nora had vowed to hold on and fight until help arrived.
“They found one of the gals nailed to an outhouse a while back.”
Lilly’s stomach lurched. Even Erin looked a little queasy. “Who would do such a thing?” Lilly asked.
The man took off his hat, scratched his greasy head, and resettled the dirty headpiece. “Hard to say, ma’am.”
After a block or so, Lilly saw a peeling red sign that read THE THIRSTY TRAVELER in stark white. The rest of the place didn’t look much better. Unlike some of the businesses that had been left unpainted to brave the harsh Texas weather, The Thirsty Traveler had been whitewashed at some time. But the same sun and wind that bleached cattle bones white and blew grit into noses and eyes had taken its toll on the once-pristine exterior.
“Are you sure this is the place you want?” the driver asked, angling the rig to a stop in front of the building.
“Well, no one led me to believe it was the Oriental,” Erin said, tossing a wry smile over her shoulder toward her companions. “This is it.”
During one of their talks, Erin had told Lilly that Tombstone’s Oriental was considered one of the finest places of its kind east of California. Visitors told tales of brightly lit, Brussels-carpeted gambling rooms that were stocked with reading material. Lilly had also learned that, contrary to popular belief, saloons and gaming halls were strictly for men. If a man wanted a woman, he needed to find a boardinghouse or dance hall. One thing was for certain: This wasn’t the Oriental.
Cade placed his hands on Lilly’s waist and swung her down before doing the same for his sister. “D’you have the ke
y?”
Without a word, Erin rummaged through her reticule and pulled out a skeleton key with a string of twine attached. Cade took it from her, and, while she paid the driver, he set about unlocking the door. In a few seconds, it swung wide, and they got their first look at the place that would be their home for the foreseeable future.
Erin planted her hands on her slender hips, and the trio surveyed their temporary lodging in contemplative silence. The downstairs room was large, and there were four doors that led to unknown places. A staircase with a landing led to the upper floor where the girls plied their trade. A waist-high, turned-spindle railing bordered all four sides of the upper floor, with doors that led onto a balcony that overlooked the street.
A large fireplace with the ashes of a long-cold fire was centered on one wall of the lower floor. The bar was on the opposite side of the room with the requisite painting of a scantily draped woman hanging behind it. Shelving for the liquor bottles flanked either side of the portraiture, with one row below, in easy reach of a busy bartender.
Fortunately, it didn’t look as if anything had been destroyed. All the awful, gaudy gold tables and red upholstered chairs, where the “ladies” and “gentlemen” could sit, share a drink, and converse before heading upstairs, looked to be in fair condition, with only the usual signs of wear.
“Thank heaven I’m not really considering buying it,” Erin said at last. “It’s a bit of a mess, isn’t it?”
“It is that,” Cade agreed.
“Shall we have a look around?”
They soon learned that the doors on the lower floor led to an office with a battered desk, a functional, but far from fancy kitchen, plus two smaller rooms that served as bathrooms for the girls and their male visitors. The ladies’ necessary featured a large wall mirror, two vanities, and two slipper-shaped tubs with small hand pumps at one end.
“Very smart,” Erin said with a nod of approval. “Carrying bathwater upstairs for so many people would keep a couple of strong men very busy. My hat is off to Mr. Knowles for being so forward thinking.”
Murder Will Speak Page 5