She smiled sweetly at the newsman, who was not immune to a pretty woman’s wiles, soiled dove or not. “The only person I could think of who might tell me the truth about these matters was you.”
Paddock nodded. “I appreciate your faith in me, Miss Long, and I wish that I had a definite answer for you; however, all I can say is that, though I’ve heard those same rumors, I have no confirmation that there’s any truth to them.”
“I see. Miss O’Toole is also somewhat concerned about competing with Rosalie and Velvet. She has already heard that neither of them is pleased about her reopening Dusty’s old place. And, we’ve heard that they can be somewhat, uh . . . vindictive.”
Paddock smiled. “Which means that you’ve heard the gossip that Velvet was responsible for Miss Nash’s death, not Monty. Again, it isn’t something I can confirm, but, in my mind, she had far more reason to harm Miss Nash than poor Monty.”
Lilly’s heart seemed to stall. Though she and Erin and Cade had talked about this very possibility earlier, to hear it from such a reliable source gave it credence.
“That’s troubling, to say the least.”
“I won’t deny that it’s something to be cautious about. I’d tell Miss O’Toole to think long and hard about this new venture.”
“I certainly will,” Lilly assured him. She extended her hand. “Thank you so much. I didn’t intend to keep you from your work, so I’ll let you get back to it.” At the door, she spun back around. “Oh. What about the young girl who was attacked? Is she making any improvement?”
“No, ma’am. Not that I’m aware of.”
“Does the marshal have any idea who did such a horrible thing?”
Paddock shook his head. “As with Miss Nash, it could have been anyone.”
Lilly was halfway out the door when the newsman’s voice stopped her. “By the way, did you hear the news about Billy the Kid?”
“No,” Lilly said. The gunslinger’s reputation was known far and wide, as was his total disregard for the lives of others. “Did he shoot someone else?”
“Nope. Pat Garrett finally ambushed him on a ranch in New Mexico. He’s dead.”
CHAPTER 22
Longing for something cool to drink, Lilly trudged down the street, sweltering in the heat of the July sun. Droplets of sweat dared to trickle from her hair down her temple. Sweating! How unladylike, she thought with an inward smile.
Sadly, her trip to the newspaper’s office hadn’t yielded much useful information, except that, eventually, criminals met their deaths, and the speculation about Velvet.
She wasn’t sure where they went from here or how they would unearth the truth about either of the crimes they were working on, but she was well aware that their time was running out. Erin wouldn’t be much use if she didn’t snap out of the fear that had taken hold of her, and, even with the pretense of reopening the saloon, they couldn’t stay much longer without the locals becoming more suspicious.
Preparing herself mentally for another night sitting in a dance hall and pretending to enjoy herself, she unlocked the door to Dusty’s and stepped into the shady interior.
Erin was nowhere to be seen, and she wasn’t in the kitchen. Hoping she wasn’t disturbing a nap, Lilly ran up the steps, calling her friend’s name. There was no answer. Frustrated, she went to the door to Erin’s room and froze. The door stood open. The lock had been ripped from the jamb, and splinters of oak lay torn from it, as if someone had kicked the door open.
Every fiber of Lilly’s being screamed that something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
Erin kept her room immaculate; now it looked as if a storm had swept through it. The bedding was a mess. Part of it hung off the edge and onto the rug. Most of the personal belongings that had been artfully arranged on her dresser now lay on the floor. The fancy iron bed had been pulled from the wall on one side. The fireplace poker lay on the floor at the base of the armoire.
Erin was gone, but she hadn’t gone peacefully. Lilly had a good idea who had taken her.
Trembling in fear, she backed out of the room, her mind whirling. She had no idea where Cade was or when he would get back, but she knew she couldn’t leave Erin in Elijah Wilkins’s clutches any longer than necessary. Horrible visions of what he could be doing to her flashed through Lilly’s mind in a succession of sickening, jerky images.
Think, Lilly, think!
Where would he take her? His place, of course, but she had no idea where that might be. How could she find out? Monty knew, but she had no notion of where he was or how to find him.
Marshal Davies? No way this side of Hades.
Think, Lilly!
Bonnie. Bonnie, or maybe even Goldie, might know where Wilkins lived. It was worth a chance. She started down the stairs, then turned and ran to her room. This time she wouldn’t leave her derringer behind.
She rummaged around in her underwear drawer, asking herself if she was really thinking about confronting Elijah Wilkins, a man who regularly beat women who disobeyed their bosses. A man who sold those women into a horrible existence. A man who might be a killer.
Yes, she was. She grabbed the little gun, shoved it into her skirt pocket, and slammed the drawer shut.
McShane will have a fit.
Well, then, he would just have to have one! There was no way she could sit here and wait for him to show up before going to look for Erin. Lilly dashed down the stairs, her earlier lethargy gone. She was headed for the door when she realized it would be smart to let Cade know where she’d gone. Very smart, in fact.
Running across the room to the table where they’d been sitting earlier, she picked up the pad and snatched the pencil. Her hands shook as she printed:
WILKINS HAS ERIN. GONE TO HIS PLACE TO FIND HER.
Short and to the point, but it would work. She left it propped against one of the mugs sitting there and raced back across the room and out the door.
Since Velvet’s was only a couple of blocks away, it didn’t take long to get there. Breathing hard, Lilly pushed through the swinging doors and scanned the interior. She didn’t see any of the girls milling about, but Charlie was behind the bar, polishing glasses.
She didn’t even stop to think if it was wise or not before calling his name and crossing the room. He turned and smiled when he saw her. It looked like a smile she could trust.
“Hello, Lilly. How are you?”
“I’ve been better,” she told him.
He must have seen the panic in her eyes, because he came around the end of the bar and took both her hands in his. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Someone came to Dusty’s while I was out this afternoon, and, when I got back, Erin was gone. There’d been a struggle. I think Wilkins has her.”
Charlie muttered a low curse. “I imagine you’re right. Bonnie told me that Erin was pretty upset last night, and I don’t think there’s anyone with a lick of sense who would deny the man’s a monster. What do you need me to do?”
“Can you tell me how to get to his place?”
“I can, but there’s no way I’m letting you go alone,” he told her.
“I’ll be fine.” She heard the bravado in her voice, but her insides were quivering with nerves and fear. “I have training.... I’ll tell you more, later.”
“Lilly . . .”
“Please. I need you to stay here in case McShane comes in. If he does, tell him where I am and tell him to hurry. If he doesn’t come, I suppose you can call Davies.”
“No. Not him. I’ll come myself and bring a couple of the boys.”
Bouncers. Perfect.
“And we need some law we can trust here in a hurry.”
Charlie’s head bobbed up and down in understanding. “I’ll go down the street and telegraph the Dallas sheriff.”
“Good. Thank you. Now tell me how to find Wilkins’s place. I want to get there before anything bad happens.”
* * *
Wilkins’s street was outside the Acre, several blocks past the train t
racks. Even with Charlie’s directions, Lilly got turned around once or twice.
When she reached the little house, she wasn’t surprised to find it neglected and run-down. Sitting on a narrow city block, amongst a patch of knee-high weeds, the entire structure canted to one side, a silent testimony to rotting floor joists. Several boards at the bottom had decayed, and several cedar shingles were missing. Its only noteworthy feature was the trees around it, one of which had dropped a limb onto the roof.
Lilly had no idea if Wilkins had brought Erin here and left her, or if he was in the house. She had no proof that Erin was even here. She recalled McShane telling her that, before an agent went running into a building or a room, he should look around for possible ways of entry and escape. With that advice in mind, she decided to look around before choosing how to go inside.
She glanced over her shoulder to make certain there was no one to see her snooping around. Unless someone was peering through a grimy window, she could nose about to her heart’s content. She started in the front and went to the side window. Through the dirty glass she saw that the room was the parlor. Like the exterior of the place, it was disgusting. Even from where she stood, peering through the filthy, wavy glass, she could tell that no one had used a broom on the floors in heaven knows how long. Erin was nowhere to be seen, so Lilly eased through the weeds to the next window.
She had to stand on her tiptoes to see through this one, since the lower glass had been broken out and wood reused from a case of canned beans had been nailed over the opening. She saw nothing inside but a rough, wooden table, four chairs with woven seats, and a shelf.
No Erin.
Reasoning that the room at the back was a bedroom and that if Wilkins was here, he had to be in that room, she ducked around the corner, where there was even less likelihood of anyone seeing her window peeking.
With her front against the house, she inched closer to the window, which had been left open to allow the halfhearted breeze to circulate the stifling heat of the day. A quick peek into the room told her the bed sat near the window. A second look let her know the room was empty . . . except for the woman lying half-naked on the dingy sheets. Erin! And if her condition was any indication, Lilly had arrived too late....
* * *
The afternoon was more than half gone when Cade returned from making his daily information rounds. He’d learned nothing of value and was looking forward to a nice meal with his sister and Lilly. As far as he was concerned, they could stay in and play cards for the evening. Though he had never thought he’d admit it, he’d had about all he could take of bawdy houses, saloons, and gambling establishments. At least for a while.
When he unlocked the door and stepped inside, he was greeted by silence. No sounds filtered down from upstairs or the kitchen. Wondering where the two women had gone, he was on his way to get a drink of water when he noticed the note propped against one of the coffee mugs they’d used earlier. A feeling of uneasiness was already creeping through him when he snatched it up and read the note.
Wilkins had Erin, and Lilly had gone to try to help free her. Even as he headed for the door, his mind was filled with a jumble of thoughts, one following the other without rhyme or reason. His first was to wonder how Wilkins had nabbed Erin. She’d made it very clear that she intended to stay away from him, and Cade believed her.
Close on the heels of that came anger at Lilly for once again putting herself in harm’s way. Would the stubborn chit never learn?
Where would Wilkins have taken Erin? How long had she been gone? How had Lilly found out? Did she have her gun? Would she use it? What did Wilkins intend to do with his sister?
Cade’s vivid imagination gave him the answer in a single, sickening image. For all the bad blood between Erin and him, the image in his mind was almost unbearable.
Out on the sidewalk, he stood, undecided, willing his nerves to steady and his mind to settle down and concentrate on what to do first. Two of the people he cared about most in the world were in danger. He’d be of no use to them if he didn’t get his thoughts together.
Lilly’s note said she was going to Wilkins’s place, but how would she know where to find it?
Bonnie. Bonnie was the only person she could trust outside of their small group. Without another second’s hesitation, he started down the street toward Velvet’s, praying that he would find his sister and Lilly before it was too late.
CHAPTER 23
“Pst. Erin . . .”
Erin stirred, but didn’t open her eyes, one of which was swollen and had begun to turn a dark plum color. Her lips were puffy; drying blood ran from one corner of her mouth and trailed across her chin.
She was still partially clothed, but her skirts were bunched around her waist. Her blouse had been stripped away, leaving nothing but her chemise, which had been torn from one shoulder. Ugly bruises in the exact pattern of fingerprints marred her arms where Wilkins had held her.
Lilly felt tears slipping down her cheeks and swiped at them with an angry motion. She clenched her jaw. No one deserved what had happened in this room, no matter what her occupation. Erin needed help.
Being as quiet as possible, Lilly hoisted herself up and through the open window. As she hung there, half in and half out, she remembered being in this same position a few months previously. Only that time, she had been trying to get out of the room.
Somehow, despite her skirt and petticoats, she managed to get one leg over the sill and ease through the opening. Inside, she stood and listened for any signs of movement. Nothing. At least nothing she could hear. Tiptoeing, she went straight to the pitcher and basin. Peeking inside, she saw that there was enough water to at least wash the blood from Erin’s face.
The towel lying beside the bowl was filthy, so Lilly pulled her handkerchief from her pocket and poured some water over it. Then she straightened Erin’s skirts and went to the side of the bed nearest the window, reaching out with a light touch to bathe her face. She stirred, but again, didn’t open her eyes.
Gently, Lilly dabbed at the blood on Erin’s chin, doing what she could to erase the outward reminders of the savagery she’d been subjected to. The inner reminders would always be there, lurking, waiting to rob her of the peace and happiness she might find in the future. After a while, her eyes opened. She seemed to have trouble focusing. Then she whispered Lilly’s name.
“Sh.”
As consciousness returned, Erin murmured, “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“Never mind that now. I need to get you out of here. Can you sit up?”
“I think so.” With Lilly’s help and a single moan, Erin levered herself into a sitting position. “The room is spinning.”
“I don’t doubt it. Just sit a minute.” Lilly handed her the handkerchief so that Erin could do her own washing up.
“We need to get out of here,” Lilly whispered. “Do you think you’re up to it?”
Erin nodded.
Lilly wrapped her arm around Erin’s waist and helped her to her feet. “Can you sit on the sill and ease out somehow?”
“Well, well, well. What have we here?”
The masculine voice froze them in place. Terrified, Lilly turned slowly. Erin seemed incapable of moving.
Wilkins lounged in the doorway, his shoulder leaning against the doorframe, regarding them with a lazy smile.
“Erin’s leaving.”
A puzzled expression entered his night-black eyes. “What’s the matter, Erin? Didn’t you like our little loving session?”
Erin stepped closer to Lilly, and for the first time it dawned on Lilly that the formerly self-confident woman was looking to her for protection. The realization was scary. Trembling like a leaf herself, Lilly stiffened her backbone and her resolve and moved between Erin and Wilkins.
“Love had nothing to do with what you did to her,” Lilly said. “It was nothing but a pitiful display of strength by someone who wasn’t man enough to get what he wanted any other way.”
Wilkins laughed, a rough, guttural sound. “Oh, this is gonna be fun,” he said, lurching away from the doorframe and taking a few steps toward them. “I like a woman with fight in her, and you were always my first pick. Remember?”
“Go, Erin!” Lilly commanded, giving her a little push backward, but Erin seemed unable to take her eyes off the man advancing toward them.
Realizing that the situation was about to get ugly, Lilly reached into her pocket and pulled out her little gun, pointing it at Wilkins.
He laughed again. “You gonna use that fancy little peashooter on me?”
“If I have to. And believe me, I know how to use it,” she bragged, but even she heard the uncertainty in her voice.
He gave a mock shiver and took a step closer. “Ooh! I’m scared.”
A feeling of déjà vu came over Lilly. Being in a similar situation with Timothy Warner only a few months earlier. Looking back, it seemed like years since she’d faced the man she’d married and his gun. She didn’t doubt that Wilkins was carrying one, hidden somewhere. It would behoove her to remember that.
While she tried to gather her thoughts and devise some sort of plan, he lunged toward her. Stay out of his reach, Lilly. Cade’s instruction came rushing back. In a move as instinctive as breathing, she darted to the side.
All Wilkins managed to do was rip the sleeve of her blouse free at the shoulder. The expression in his eyes was dark and menacing. Predatory. He meant to hurt her, however he could.
For a moment, they stared into each other’s eyes, watching. . . gauging . . . waiting to see what move the other would make. She was so focused on Erin’s kidnapper, Lilly had no idea what Erin was doing or thinking.
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