Adam cocked the hammer on his rifle. He could feel the weight of his onyx-handled Bisleys strapped on his hips. He knew he was armed well enough to protect himself and Jessica. He just hoped she had the sense to stay hidden until he had Caine. That was the plan and she'd agreed to it.
That thought no sooner crossed Adam's mind when movement to his left caught his eyes. It was Jessica creeping forward of the wagon.
Adam gave a wave, but couldn't call out. His eyes frantically darted from Jessica to the Caine boys and back to Jessica again. What the hell did she think she was doing! If he called out to her, he'd give away his own position as well as hers. Damned if he wasn't going to have her hide when this was over!
The Caine boys approached the door to Toby's shack.
Adam watched, muscles taut, ready to spring, as he waited to see what Jessica intended to do. Of course, he already knew what she intended. That was to catch Larry Caine herself. The only question was how.
Just as Toby put his hand on the doorknob, Jessica leaped out of the shadows. "Hands up!" she ordered in a gruff, masculine voice, as she waved her pistol.
The two men threw up their hands in surprise.
Then Adam heard Toby, the shorter of the two, let out a string of curses. "Son of a bitch, it's a gal, Larry!"
Adam fought the urge to run to Jessica's side. If this was what it would take to put Mark's death aside, he'd let it run its course as long as she remained unharmed. Just to be safe, Adam lifted his rifle to his shoulder and beaded in on the brothers.
Larry gave a chuckle. "I'll be."
"Remember me, don't you?" Jessica asked, taking another step closer. "The train out of Ogden, Utah?"
Larry glanced uneasily at Toby.
Come on, Jess, Adam thought. Make 'em drop to the ground. You can talk later. You have to take 'em and take 'em fast, before they have time to think! He kept his rifle level on his shoulder.
"Train? What train, little lady?" Larry asked, planting a silly smile on his face. "I don't ride trains . . . least not far!" He looked at Toby.
With that, Toby burst into laughter.
"You killed my brother," Jessica accused.
"You must have me mixed up with some other fine-lookin' fellow. I live here in Seattle with my brother, ain't that right, Toby?"
The brother gave another snicker and slowly began to lower his hands.
Jessica moved her pistol a few inches. "You get out of the way," she ordered Toby. "I've got no bones with you." He paused and she flexed her trigger finger.
Toby licked his lips, suddenly realizing this was no game, this woman meant business.
"G—guess I'll just be goin' inside then, if you don't mind."
"You go in and you stay in," Jessica snapped. "Else I've got six bullets—enough for both of you."
"No, no. That's all right ma'am. I'll just leave the two of you to talk it out." He swung open the shack door and began to back in.
No! Adam thought. You don't let him go inside! You keep him in plain sight! Slowly Adam began to rise. This had gone far enough; it was time he stepped in.
The moment the door of the shack slammed shut, Jessica took a step toward Caine. "Go ahead, tell me again. You don't remember me, you don't remember my brother."
Caine tried to lower his hands.
"Keep them up!" Jessica snarled.
Caine stretched his hands toward the dark sky. "I'm telling you, I don't remember you. I don't remember any boy."
"You mean to tell me that you kill so many fourteen-year-olds that you can't keep track?" She took another step.
Adam came out of the darkness. "All right, Jess, take over from here." He held his rifle on Caine.
"This here's the deputy marshal sent to track you. He's supposed to take you to jail until you can stand trial." She took another step closer. "You want to stand trial?"
"Jess, I said that's enough!"
Larry Caine began to tremble. "I . . . I told you, wasn't on any train from Ogden. Never been to Utah. I don't want to stand trial."
"Good, because I don't want you to stand trial either."
It suddenly occurred to Adam what Jessica was going to do. She hadn't crossed three states to see this man brought to justice! She meant to be jury and judge right here on the street! She meant to kill the man!
"Jessica! Don't do it," Adam shouted.
"You stay out of this! Mark was my brother and now he's dead!"
Larry waved his hands, beginning to walk backward step by step. "You don't want to kill me, lady. She's crazy," he called to Adam. "Get her off me! She's crazy. I didn't kill nobody!"
Jessica held out her hands and took aim.
"I ought to let her kill you," Adam called as he slowly began to cross the street.
The minute Adam stepped out of the shadow of the building, Caine recognized him. His face went pale.
"You got the wrong man, Sern, it's my brother you want," he protested, backing up under the window of his brother's house.
"Wrong man, hah!" Jessica shouted waving her pistol. "I've got the right man and now the right man's going to die."
"Jess! This isn't the way!" Adam was slowly making his way to her, but afraid to run for fear of scaring her and making her shoot Caine.
Suddenly the window of the shack shattered and Toby Caine came flying through the splintering glass brandishing a pistol. Jessica went down on one knee to shield herself from the flying shards. Larry cried out as Toby knocked him to the ground.
Before Adam reached their side of the street the Caine boys were up and running. Toby handed a carpetbag to Larry and began to fire on Adam and Jessica.
"Get down!" Adam ordered as he spun and fired.
The men raced up the hill with Toby still firing at them. Larry was ahead, while Toby fell back to cover his brother.
"My carpetbag!" Jessica shouted as she leaped up and ran after them.
"Come back!" Adam screamed. "Damn it, Jessica you're going to get killed!"
"I want my carpetbag! I want my grandma's recipes!"
Adam took off after her. The Caine brothers turned the corner. Adam had his choice. He could stop Jessica, or stop the Caine boys. If Jessica reached them, Toby'd surely kill her.
Adam ran up the center of the street. "Jessica! Stop!"
"They're getting away. He's got my bag!"
Toby appeared from around the corner and fired his rifle. A ricochet sounded only inches from her feet.
Adam threw himself forward, catching her around the knees and knocking her into the muddy, rutted street. Her pistol flew from her hand. She screamed as she went down, and then twisted, pounding Adam with her fists.
"You're letting them get away!" she moaned. "They've got my bag and they're getting away!"
Adam ducked, shoving her face into the dirt as Toby fired again, fifty yards from them now. For a long minute Adam lay still, his body flattened over Jessica's. When he heard no more shots, he looked up. The Caine brothers were gone.
Adam pushed up off the ground and grasped Jessica by the back of her torn shirtwaist. He lifted her to her feet and let go for fear he would hit her. "Now you get your ass back to the hotel, do you understand me?"
Jessica wiped at the mud that covered her face. It stung. She knew she'd been cut by the flying glass. She looked down at her bloody forearm and picked out a triangular sliver. She'd made a terrible mistake—not in trying to kill Larry Caine—but in hesitating. Not only was he not dead now, but he was free again and Adam was furious. She wanted to crawl into the rut in the street and die. She looked up at Adam miserably.
"Did you hear what I said?" he bellowed. "I said get back to the hotel and stay there!"
"W—where are you going?"
He grabbed her pistol from the dirt and shoved it into the waistband of his filthy pants. "Where the hell do you think I'm going?" Then he ran off.
Tears ran down Jessica's face as she started up the muddy hill. If she had any sense she'd get back on that train tonight and ride, ride
anywhere, anywhere to get away from the men who had wreaked havoc on her life—Jacob, Caine, Adam, what was the difference?
She turned the corner at the top of the hill and headed for the hotel. The difference was that she loved Adam . . .
Back at the hotel, Jessica woke a maid and had water brought up to the room she shared with Adam. The room was nothing like the elaborate one at Barton's in Pocatello, but it was clean and neat and adequately furnished.
Once the copper tub was filled with steamy water, Jessica dismissed the maid and began to shuck off her mud-encrusted clothes. She was disgusted with herself. She'd had Larry Caine right in front of her! Why didn't she kill him?
And what was she going to do now that Adam knew she intended to kill Caine, not see him brought to trial? If Adam didn't catch him tonight, he would go on tracking him, but he certainly wouldn't let Jessica go along. She'd be on her own again.
Jessica let the last of her muddy clothes flop to the floor and then she eased into the hot bath water. She cupped the water in her hands and splashed it on her face. She'd been nicked several times by the glass, but there didn't seem to be any embedded in her flesh. She washed her forearm where she pulled the piece out when she'd still been on the street. Then she lay back and let the water seep up over her breasts and cover everything but her shoulders and head. She was tired and she ached all over. Her head pounded.
She fingered Adam's locket she wore around her neck. What was she going to say to Adam when he got here? Worse yet, what if he didn't come back? What if he was killed? What if he went after Caine and didn't bother to come back, not even to say good-bye?
Jessica heard the door ease open. She knew it couldn't be Adam already; it had to be the maid. "I said that will be all," she called not bothering to open her eyes. "You can empty the tub in the morning." The hot water felt so good that she thought she might just stay in the tub until it turned cold.
When she heard a floorboard squeak near her head, her eyes flew open. Before she could turn, someone dropped a piece of stinking cloth around her head and yanked it tight around her mouth. Jessica screamed, but the gag kept any sound from coming out. She struggled to get out of the tub, splashing water onto the floor.
Wide-eyed with fear, her eyes met her captor's.
He was a big burly man with a patch over his left eye. It was no man she had ever seen before. Her assailant reached for her and she leaped up and out of the tub, going for the door. He caught her arm and wrenched her backward, slipping a sack over her head and letting it fall over her body. Jessica fought as hard as she could, but from inside the burlap bag, her blows made no impact.
Inside the bag it was dark and stifling. The old damp burlap smelled of oats and mildew. Adam! she cried silently. Adam, dear God, help me!
Suddenly she felt herself being grabbed around the waist and thrown into the air. She fell over her kidnapper's shoulder and a groan escaped her lips as her head banged against his broad, humped back. The next thing she knew, the man was running. Instead of turning right to go down the steps and into the lobby, he went left.
For a fleeting moment Jessica thought the man might just be taking her into another room, but then she felt a whoosh of cold night air. She was brought down off the kidnapper's shoulders and being handed through the window! She gave a violent kick to the accomplice, hoping he would drop her. But all she got was a kick in the head and then there was nothing but blackness.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Slowly, Adam took the steps that led to the second floor of the hotel, leaving muddy footprints behind. He'd lost the Caine brothers somewhere on the dark streets down near the wharf. He'd had Larry Caine within grasp and now he was gone. Adam would be lucky if the Union Pacific didn't have a marshal pick him up by morning. The railroad had threatened to charge Adam as an accomplice if he didn't catch the Black Bandit in due time. Adam imagined "due time" was about up.
His only chance was to find Larry Caine in the next few days. On a hunch, he had left word with the three steamships docked at the wharf to let him know if any men resembling the Caine brothers booked passage or were caught trying to stow away. He'd also sent a messenger to the train station.
Damn Jessica and her revenge! It was her fault Caine was still free. Adam blamed himself for not seeing it coming. He was as angry with himself as he was with her. She'd been so preoccupied with her pistol in the last few days. Why hadn't he realized she intended to use it?
Adam had half a mind to turn right around and head for the nearest saloon. A stiff drink might do him some good. He didn't want to talk to Jessica. He was too damned angry with her! Who was she to think she had a right to kill a man? Yes, Larry Caine deserved to die. But Jessica didn't have the right to kill him, no one did. Only the justice system had that right.
Adam knew it was the practice in the West for towns to be jury, judge, and executioner, but he believed it was wrong. A man accused of a crime in the United States had a right to stand trial and be judged by a jury of his peers. If he was found guilty, only then should he die, and at the hand of a government-appointed executioner, not by an angry crowd or a vengeful woman.
Adam reached the door to their room. It was slightly ajar. "Jessica!" he called in a none-too-pleasant tone. He pushed open the door and rested his rifle against the wall.
She wasn't here.
Adam swore. He kicked the door shut with a muddy boot. She'd come up to their room, taken a bath, and fled, rather than face him. He shrugged off his overcoat and yanked his hat off his head, letting it sail across the room.
She hadn't even had the decency to clean up her dirty clothes. They lay in a heap on the floor, making a muddy pool with all the water that she'd splashed on the hardwood floor.
Water . . . There was a hell of a lot of water on the floor. Adam picked up her muddy shirt and let it fall to the floor. Her boots lay by the bed. If she'd fled, what clothes had she worn? He went to the trunk of clothes they'd purchased and jerked open the lid. Everything was folded neatly, nothing missing. He was sure of it because he'd bought her every stitch of clothing she owned. Her spare pair of shoes, black kid leather slippers, were at the bottom of the trunk.
No clothes . . . no shoes? Adam let the lid of the trunk slam shut.
Jessica would never have walked out of a hotel stark naked! Someone had kidnapped her! Adam grabbed his rifle and ran out of the room and down the steps into the front lobby. There was no one to be seen. He went back up. Think, he told himself. Think, Jessica's life could depend on it. He thrust his hand into her bath water. It was still warm. She hadn't been gone long.
He looked down at the water puddling under his muddy boots. There were bare footprints and two pairs of male footprints. Adam immediately recognized his own. But the other set led out the door. The barefooted ones ended abruptly inside the doorway. Jessica had been carried away . . . Adam went down on his hands and knees and followed the man's wet footprints on the wooden planked floor.
She'd been taken left, not right, down the hall. Adam scrambled along the floor. The water stains reached the end of the hallway and then ended—at the window. He threw it open and climbed through. The roof was icy, making it difficult to walk along the cedar shingles without slipping. The cold wind whipped through Adam's shirt and he shivered. He could only imagine how cold Jessica must be . . . wet, with no clothes to protect her against the biting wind. Adam slipped back through the window and ran to retrieve his overcoat and hat.
Back out on the roof, Adam crouched for a moment, staring out at the rooflines of the city that stretched out before him. Which way did the kidnapper go? Adam felt so helpless. Jessica could be anywhere by now. All he could do was dig deep into himself and use his intuition, as he had done when he had conquered the Trial by Fire and Beast. It was how the Ojibwa had lived for a thousand years. With a silent prayer, Adam straightened up and ran along the roof, using his rifle for balance. He leaped to a lower level a few feet below. If he wanted to catch Jessica's captor, he would have
to think like him. Which way would he go, if he was trying to escape with a woman thrown over his shoulder? After only a moment's hesitation, Adam ran, following some unknown path etched in his mind.
Jessica regained consciousness within minutes. Her head pounded and she was acutely aware of the sensation of swinging like a pendulum, draped over her kidnapper's shoulder. She was so cold that her entire body shook violently. She could hear her captor's labored breathing as he loped along in an awkward gait.
Jessica's first instinct was to struggle but she thought better of it. It's best to let him think I'm still unconscious, she thought. Better to have a plan. But it was hard to think upside down with all of her blood rushing to her head. She was so dizzy that her stomach heaved.
Carefully, she began to rub her chin against her bare shoulder, trying to push aside the gag. She wondered vaguely if the accomplice who had helped her kidnapper get her out the window was there. She couldn't hear his footsteps.
Slowly the gag began to move. Jessica tried to concentrate. She could hear laughter somewhere far in the distance. It was men, singing, laughing—drunken men. She figured she was in an alley. She could feel damp brick walls very close, although her body made no contact with them. A small dog suddenly began to bark and her captor let out a gruff grunt. He changed gaits, giving a swift kick and the little dog howled with pain. It was all Jessica could do to remain silent. The gag was nearly off. But she knew she only had one chance. She had to wait until they were near someone who could help her. She only prayed they didn't reach their destination before that time came.
When Jessica became aware of the faint sound of creaking wagon wheels, she stiffened. The wagon was growing closer. She was sure of it! They were somewhere near the wharf. She could smell the salt air that she had smelled back at Toby Caine's shack. She could hear the reserve steam engines chugging on a ship.
Her captor slowed to a walk. Jessica knew he must be out in the open where he could be seen. It was colder. She couldn't feel the walls around her and the sounds of the street life weren't as muffled. The kidnapper had to be very close to his destination. She heard a woman's lewd laughter, but the voice was too far away. Besides, the kind of woman who was out this time of night was probably someone who minded her own business. The wagon wheels squeaked closer . . .
In Close Pursuit Page 24