He suspected that worry about Nora and seeing firsthand the life she’d been forced into was disturbing Lilly. She might have even noticed the similarities of her mother’s life with that of Bonnie or the other girls working in the bordellos. The only difference was that Kate Long had not taken pay from her men.
Lilly turned to look at him, and he realized that without being aware of his actions, he had covered the hand resting on his arm with his free one. Thankfully, they were at the edge of the sidewalk. “Watch your step,” he cautioned.
“Thank you.”
When he forced his thoughts from her, an image of his sister came to mind. An unexpected pain stabbed him. Ah, Erin, how did it come to this? They’d been close growing up, and, as any big brother should, he’d shielded her with an intense protectiveness from those who tried to make her life difficult. Erin had been feisty and lippy and happy and forever wearing an impish grin.
She’d begun to change when she was fourteen or so. Her smile lost its contagious brightness. Laughter became rare, replaced with a mocking smile and a caustic tongue. Their mother said it was just something girls went through at that age, that she would soon outgrow it and their bonnie Erin would be back. It hadn’t happened.
She’d been seventeen and he’d been nineteen when their stepfather had been killed in a buggy accident while driving home from a night of drinking. A wheel had come off, and the carriage had flipped over on top of him. His absence had put a strain on their already tight finances, and, with the older McShane siblings gone from home, it had been up to him and Erin to step up and help bring in money to support themselves and their mother.
A short two months later, he’d learned what Erin did for a living. When he had confronted her, she’d refused to talk about it. He’d been so furious that he’d pushed her away.
From then on, their relationship had been rocky at best, but the day his wife, Glenna had been killed and Erin had attempted suicide, the chasm between him and Erin had widened so much that he didn’t think there was a bridge long or strong enough to span it. But, just because he blamed Erin for Glenna’s death and disapproved of how she made a living, didn’t mean he’d ever stop loving her. That love was what made accepting her choices so hard.
He did appreciate her help with the current assignment. Maybe this was as good as it would ever be between them. Maybe he should be thankful for that much.
CHAPTER 12
To Lilly’s surprise, the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee greeted them as soon as they opened the doors of The Thirsty Traveler. Erin, wearing a rather tatty wrapper, sat at one of the tables, cradling a cup in her hands.
“I’m surprised to see you back so soon,” Cade said.
“Believe it or not brother, I don’t lift my skirts for everyone in trousers.”
Lilly wondered if Cade noticed the pain in his sister’s eyes. As a woman, Lilly realized that Erin had used the crude comment to deliberately shock and hurt him. Something inside Lilly told her that whatever it was that stood between the two was more than Erin’s occupation. If there was ever a chance for them to be together alone, and Erin seemed in an expansive mood, Lilly would try to find out more about the strained relationship.
“There’s coffee in the kitchen.” Erin acted as if the brief exchange had never occurred.
Cade headed that direction. “D’ya want a cup, Lilly?” he called over his shoulder.
“Why not?” She needn’t worry about the coffee’s keeping her awake. Her current role allowed her to sleep late if she wanted.
He returned with two mugs and set one in front of her. Then he sat down between her and his sister and took a sip of his. “Did you learn anything from Mr. Wilkins?” he asked Erin.
“Nothing much beyond the fact that he is an arrogant blowhard who thinks every woman should fall at his feet. Or into his bed. He did impress upon me that he had valuable connections if I decide to stay and reopen the place. And he assured me he could produce whatever I needed to gratify the carnal preferences of both men and women, no matter what it might be.”
“To which you replied . . . ?”
“I’d keep it in mind.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes, Cadence, that’s it. I spent the rest of the time trying to keep his hands off me.” Done with sparring with her brother, she turned to Lilly. “Did you see that girl who stopped by yesterday?”
“Yes, but only for a moment. She came down from one of her . . . appointments and sat with me long enough to have a drink, but then the bartender came over and told her that Velvet was getting upset because she wasn’t working the floor.” Despite herself, Lilly heard the break in her voice.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Cade asked, his cup halfway to his lips.
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. But would she?
“What am I missing here?” Erin’s dark eyebrows were drawn together in a frown of genuine concern. “Did something happen?”
“Lilly is having a bit o’ trouble dealing with the realities of the lives these women live.”
“I see.” Erin drew in a deep breath and released it. “I’m not certain if I should apologize, be offended, or be happy that someone recognizes what it’s really like.”
“Please don’t be offended,” Lilly was quick to say. The last thing she needed was conflict between her and Cade’s sister.
“Trust me, it would take more than that to really upset me.”
“It’s just that when I look at Rosalie and Velvet, all I can think of is that beneath their veneer of civility and beauty, there’s nothing but coldness, heartlessness . . . a hardness of heart that is beyond my understanding. They haven’t a single qualm about using those women to feather their own nests. It’s horrible! I don’t understand why the girls don’t just walk away. Buy a train ticket and move on to a new life somewhere.”
“That isn’t always as easy as it seems,” Erin told her. “Especially if there’s nothing to move on to.”
Hadn’t Bonnie said something similar? “But some must have some family or friends. Bonnie has something. Charlie—that’s the bartender—seems to care for her, but she says he can’t support them both.”
“That may just be her excuse.”
“What do you mean? Why wouldn’t she want to escape the life?”
Erin looked pensive. “It may sound silly, but it’s hard to separate yourself from your past. A lot of women get worn down physically and mentally. They think they’re not good enough for a decent man.” She looked up at them, a challenging look in her eyes. “Take a girl like me. What if I give a decent man a chance, and someone finds out about my past? If I love this man, I certainly don’t want to see him suffer shame and embarrassment because of me. And then, what if he wanted to be rid of me? I’m right back where I started. And can I ever truly believe a respectable man will trust me around other men?” She shook her head. “It isn’t as cut-and-dried as it may seem.”
Strangely, Lilly understood. Wasn’t her own vow to live a life different from her mother’s her way of distancing herself from her past?
“I understand,” she said. “I didn’t mean to turn this meeting into a discussion about me and my feelings. I’ll be fine. Let’s get back to the investigation.”
Erin seemed to return to the present slowly. “You’re right. Cade, were you able to get any new information?”
He told her about the competition between the two top madams and how they’d steal girls from each other.
“Well, that’s certainly different,” Erin said. “It makes a certain amount of sense in a twisted sort of way. Wilkins told me about a woman they found nailed to an outhouse. I wasn’t sure if it was a scare tactic to keep me from settling here or a warning to the other girls to tread lightly.”
“Bonnie told me about that too, and I can only imagine it was a warning.”
“Of course, it was,” Cade said. “Whoever killed her was saying, ‘Watch your step. Don’t cross us, or you could be next.’”
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br /> Lilly looked from one sibling to the other. “The question is, who is ‘us’?”
“That’s yet to be found out,” Cade said. “It could have been any one of the madams. Or even some cowboy passing through who got carried away. We’ll probably never know.” He looked from his partner to his sister. “Don’t you find it interesting that Davies is saying it will be fine to open up another place, but Wilkins is being less than enthusiastic?”
“That is interesting,” Erin said. “Do you think it’s some sort of game they play? Are Wilkins and Davies enemies, or do they have something going on together that they’d prefer no one know about?”
“I couldn’t tell much when they were standing there with Rosalie,” Lilly said.
“Davies is going to make things harder for us,” Cade said.
“How so?” Lilly asked.
“He seems like the type of man who holds his cards close to his vest. He may tell us he’ll help and that there’s plenty of room for new places, but I doubt he gives us any truly useful information since we’ll be in direct competition with his two favorite ladies.”
Erin gave a little shiver. “Even though he makes my skin crawl, I’m going to keep working on Wilkins. The more comfortable he gets with me, the more he’s likely to open up or let something slip.”
“Good thinking, sister. I’m going to try to find a good poker game tomorrow and see if I can get anything from some of the locals. I may even take in a horse race.”
“Don’t you think you should be working instead of playing?” Lilly asked.
“I will be working. You should have figured that out by now.”
She knew his words were true, but it irritated her that he would be somewhere else and not at her side. And that irritated her as well. She was getting entirely too accustomed to his being around, and that wasn’t good, not if she ever hoped to make it on her own as an agent.
“I might try to find out the identity of the man who came in just before we left.”
“That skinny fellow everyone was watching?” Cade asked. “Why on earth are you interested in him?”
“Don’t you find it strange that everyone stared at him when he came in and they seemed glad to see him go? I want to know why.” She didn’t add that if she talked to the man, she would ask him why he’d looked at her as if he knew her from somewhere.
“It sounds as if we all have busy days ahead of us,” Erin said, around a yawn. “I’m for bed.”
“I’ll go to the market in the morning to get what we need for the day,” Lilly offered, hoping that one of them would take pity on her and do the dishes. And there was always the chance that she could strike up a conversation with someone who could shed a little light on Nora’s whereabouts.
“Thanks, Lilly,” Erin said, heading for the stairs. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
When Erin reached the landing, Cade turned to Lilly. “Don’t forget to take your gun when you go.”
The prompt grated on her, even though she knew he was only looking out for her. She did have a bad habit of forgetting her derringer, or it not being handy when she needed it.
“Thanks for reminding me,” she said, and, without another word, went upstairs. She thought she heard him chuckling.
Lying in the darkness of her room, Lilly couldn’t sleep. She kept recalling the events of the evening and her conversation with Cade. She couldn’t believe she’d opened herself up the way she had, especially not to him. He had listened and told her what he felt, but he had not mocked her for being too soft, or tried to influence her in any way. He’d sounded as if he understood.
This wasn’t the first time she’d questioned her choice to leave her family and the stage and become a detective, but it was the only time she’d considered her choice with such a heavy heart. Corruption, lawbreaking, and debauchery were not pretty in any form, but what the procurers and madams—even the marshal, who made a pretense of keeping the law—condoned was beyond contemptible.
If she got through this assignment, and she had to for Nora’s sake, what sort of loathsome offense against women would she encounter the next time . . . and the next? Lilly knew she was headstrong and stubborn, but were those traits enough to sustain her?
Do you believe in what you do, Lilly?
The little voice inside her whispered the question, demanded an answer. She did. Wholeheartedly. Was knowing she was helping some women enough? She didn’t know. But if she decided to stay with it, it would have to be.
CHAPTER 13
The next morning, Lilly took the small grocery basket they’d found on a shelf in the kitchen and walked the short distance to the mercantile. The Texas sun beat down on her shoulders, even though it was barely eight o’clock in the morning. At least there was a breath of breeze. A few strands of hair tickled her neck.
Hardly anyone was stirring, which suited her just fine. The doves and madams were sleeping, as were those men who had not passed out early from too much drink. She was surprised to see the doors to the drinking establishments were open. Did they open at such an early hour to cater to those who might wander in looking for some hair of the dog?
As she strolled down the street, she studied the buildings on either side of the thoroughfare. Besides the requisite saloons, gambling parlors, and bawdy houses, she spied a butcher, a drug emporium, a combined barber and bathhouse, and a haberdashery where the men coming off the trail could buy themselves a new getup before heading out to sow their wild oats.
The difference in the people here from those she was accustomed to dealing with was vast. Thanks to the cattle market, Ft. Worth was a growing city, and its people, just like the place itself, were rough and raw. In comparison, Chicago, Springfield, and even the small town of Vandalia, with their theaters and nice restaurants, seemed more evolved. Sophisticated.
Still, as disturbing as the Ft. Worth lifestyle was, she could not deny that it was riveting, much like the time she’d almost been run down by a carriage. Though she’d been frightened, she had been unable to run from the danger.
Danger. At precisely that moment, she felt the unmistakable sensation of being watched. Her heart began to pick up speed. Knowing she couldn’t turn around and look, she slipped her free hand into the pocket of her olive-green skirt and felt a sense of relief when her fingertips brushed the cold metal of her derringer. Thank goodness, the grocery was only a few doors down.
The relief she felt when she stepped into the store was overwhelming. Feeling safe in the confines of the market, she stood in the doorway, letting her eyes adjust to the dimness and her heart rate slow while she looked around. After a minute or so, she felt more herself and began to shop for the day’s groceries.
Neither Cade nor Erin had specified what she was to bring back, so she would buy what she wanted. It should be something easy, since none of them wanted to be stuck in the kitchen when they could be out on the street gathering information.
She put some butter into her basket, along with a dozen eggs, three fresh peaches, a jar of apple butter, and asked the grocer to slice her a wedge of red-rind cheese. She was looking at the potatoes when she felt the presence of someone behind her. She stiffened and was about to turn when her basket was snatched and the thief went running through the store, straight for the open doorway.
Too startled to be afraid, all she could think of was that they had only a certain amount of money to spend on any given day. While she was gathering her skirt to chase him, the man reached into the basket, as if to take something from it.
“Stop!” she cried, taking a few running steps.
The sound of her voice drew the attention of the clerk behind the counter, who was wrapping her cheese in brown paper, unfazed by what was going on. He looked up just as the thief paused and turned to look at her.
Recognition set her reeling. The man from the dance hall! Any tender feelings she might have had for him and his plight vanished as she realized he was nothing but a robber.
Neith
er moved for long seconds, and, for a moment, she thought he was about to say something. Instead, he set the basket down, turned, and dashed outside. Running to the entrance, she watched the culprit race down the street and disappear around the corner.
“That man!” She turned toward the shopkeeper, who had stood watching the entire exchange without making a move to help. “Who is he?”
The clerk was tying a knot in the twine. He glanced up, unconcerned. “I’m just goin’ to add this here cheese to your tally.”
“Fine!” Lilly snapped. “Who was that man?”
“That guy who just left? That’s Monty.” The clerk pulled a stubby pencil from behind his ear, gave the lead a lick, and began to write on a scrap of paper.
“Monty who? I think he’s been following me. Who is he? Is he dangerous?” She blurted off the questions in rapid fire. “And why didn’t you try to stop him?”
“He didn’t have any of the store’s merchandise, and he set down your basket. Besides, he works for me sometimes, and he ain’t never took nothin’ that I know of. Just one of his pranks, most likely.”
Irritated by the grocer’s indifference, she leaned over and grabbed the handle of her basket. “What’s his last name?” she asked between gritted teeth.
“Newton. Monty Newton.” The clerk tapped his temple with a broad finger. “He ain’t all there in the head, if you know what I mean. I don’t think he’s dangerous.”
Lilly felt like screaming. Why wasn’t he taking this more seriously? “What do you mean, you don’t think he’s dangerous?”
“A while back, I’d have said he wouldn’t hurt a hair on your head, but now, it’s hard to say.”
“Why?”
“About half the folks around the Acre say he killed that woman. But I figure there can’t be any evidence against him or else Marshal Davies would have done thrown him in jail.”
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