In Close Pursuit

by Colleen French

  "That it is." Melba patted her friend on the shoulder. "Well, I'll get down to Johnny's and be sure the men don't get into the food and drink until after the ceremony."

  Jessica laughed and gave a wave as Melba went out the door. "Give me half an hour and I'll be there."

  "You'd better, or I'm liable to marry the big brute of a man myself!"

  Jessica watched Melba disappear down the hall. Then she turned back to the mirror and began the task of piling all of her shiny clean hair onto her head in some fashionable manner.

  It was sad to think that neither her mother, nor her father, nor Mark would be here today to witness her happiness. But the friends she had made in Harrisburg were like family, and Adam said they must be content with that.

  The thought of the bridegroom made Jessica shiver. Adam Sern was going to marry her today! She was going to be his wife! Together they were going to build a future of bright promise. At this very moment her life was perfect and she wanted to savor it.

  Tucking the last lock of hair up into the simple coiffure, Jessica reached for her bridal veil. Placing it over the crown of her head, she smiled at her reflection. This Jessica in the mirror was certainly a change from the one who had crossed several states with a pistol strapped to her hip. She turned away with a chuckle. Time was slipping by and she didn't want to make Adam wait.

  As Jessica came down the steps she heard a banging at the front door. Gathering her white satin skirting in both hands, she hurried to see who was knocking. She couldn't imagine who it could be; practically everyone in the town was at Johnny's waiting for her!

  When she swung open the door, her eyes went wide with shock. "Mr. Lansing!" She dropped the skirts, her ire rising. "What the hell are you doing here?"

  "Well . . ." Lansing clasped his hands staring at her attire. "Well, I . . ."

  "Didn't I tell you I didn't ever want to see you again! Didn't I tell you I wasn't interested in your silly novel?" She couldn't believe he had traveled all the way to Alaska to get a blasted story!

  His Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "Well, yes, yes, you did. B—but that's not why I'm here."

  "Why are you here then? Why are you following me?"

  "It's your husband, ma'am."

  "Adam?"

  Lansing screwed up his mouth in confusion. "Well, no. Actually, it's Mr. Dorchester."

  She paled. "Jacob?"

  "Yes, yes, and he wants to see you."

  She gripped the doorframe until her knuckles went white. "Jacob's here?"

  "He is and you must come with me immediately."

  She shook her head in disbelief. Would she never rid herself of that man! Her eyes narrowed with anger as she turned her attention back to Lansing. "You can tell Mr. Dorchester that I do not wish to see him. I'm about to be married, married to Adam Sern."

  "Married?" Lansing blinked. "Well, you can't be married to the deputy marshal if you're already married to Mr. Dorchester."

  "Jacob told you we were married?"

  "W—well, yes, of course he did."

  "I'm not married to Jacob!" she shouted. "Now let me be!" With that, she slammed the door in the journalist's face.

  A second later he knocked again.

  Jessica's hands trembled. She rested her cheek on the door. What should she do? Run out the back? Would Jacob ruin her wedding day?

  The knocking became more insistent. "Miss Jessica. Miss Jessica. You must listen to me. Your h—Mr. Dorchester is very ill," Lansing lied. "He's dying, ma'am."

  Jessica hesitated for a moment and then swung open the door again. "Dying?"

  "A coughing disease. He came all the way here from Seattle to see you before he met his maker." Lansing went on faster as he repeated the story he and Jacob had fabricated to lure her down to the docks. "It was a miracle he made the voyage. Miss Jessica, he's on his deathbed. I fear he won't live out the day."

  Jessica's face hardened. She wouldn't do it! He wouldn't ruin her wedding day. "Mr. Lansing, I can't. I'm about to be wed. I'm late already."

  Lansing looked over the elaborate wedding dress, realizing the girl really was as ill as her husband had said. He could see now that he was going to have to change a few facts if his story was to be publishable. After all, who wanted a madwoman for a heroine? "Miss Jessica, please. It will only take a moment."

  "No, Mr. Lansing. I don't ever want to see Jacob Dorchester again. He's a horrible man."

  "Y—you won't have to. He'll be dead by sunset. Please, ma'am."

  Jessica chewed on her lower lip. It was hard to believe Jacob was dying . . . She knew it would be unchristian not to go see the man. But she had to hurry! Adam was waiting. "Tomorrow."

  He shook his head. "Too late," he squeaked. "The man is on his last breath."

  Jessica pushed past him. "Then he'll have to take it without me, Mr. Lansing."

  "Where's your compassion?" He followed her. He had no time to waste. This was his chance. The steamer was due to leave this evening and Jacob insisted on being on it. If he wanted to get Jessica's exclusive story, he had to get her to her husband! "For the love of God! You would deny a man's dying wish after all he did for you and your family?"

  Jessica stopped and spun around. "Did for me?" She was so angry that her voice shook.

  Lansing lowered his eyes to the plank sidewalk. "Whatever ill feelings you may harbor toward this man, do you think it right to hold it against him on his deathbed?"

  Jessica toyed with a seed-pearl sewn on the cuff of her sleeve. What harm could it do if she went to Jacob? If the man was dying, he was no longer a threat to her and Adam's happiness. Where was her compassion? "All right," she said softly. "I'll go with you, but I have to tell Adam where I'm going."

  "No, no, no, you don't understand! There isn't time!" He grasped her arm firmly and led her toward the dock and away. "I tell you, it will only be a moment. A final glance at your lovely face before he enters the kingdom of God. That's all he asks."

  She looked over her shoulder, but saw no one to tell where she was going. They were all waiting at Johnny's. Adam would be angry. But at least she could tell him that the matter of Jacob Dorchester was settled. That would more than make up for her tardiness.

  "Where is she?" Adam paced the bare floorboards. He was dressed in the suit he had worn on the train trip from Idaho to Washington. "Where is she, Melba?" He could feel panic rising in his chest.

  "She'll be here any minute." Melba glanced out the curtainless window. Though the outside walls of Johnny's house and connecting offices were up, no interior walls had been constructed yet. There was just one big empty room with a few skeletal frames where walls would soon be. Sun poured in through the windows filling the room with warmth and bright light. It was a perfect place for a wedding.

  "She isn't coming," he said starkly.

  "She's coming, Adam. She's just late."

  "She isn't coming. She changed her mind."

  "She didn't change her mind. She's just fussing with her hair."

  Adam came to stand by Melba and look out the window. "She's an hour late. It doesn't take any woman an hour to do her hair."

  "She already said she'd be a half hour late, that only makes her half an hour late."

  He shook his head sadly. "I knew it was too good to be true." As happy as Adam had been in the past weeks, there had been a small part of him that nagged at his subconscious telling him it just wouldn't come to be.

  "Don't be getting all melancholy on me. I'll just go and get her. I'm sure there's a logical explanation." She headed for the door, pointing at the wedding guests milling around. "You just keep that bunch out of the food. They'll have it all eaten before the bride ever gets here."

  Adam watched Melba through the window as she hustled down the street toward her house. Not five minutes later she came hurrying back—without Jessica.

  Adam yanked off his suit coat as she came in the door. "Not there, is she?"

  Melba's pink cheeks were pale. "No. I don't know where she could h
ave gone."

  "I'll tell you where she went." He threw his coat in fury. "Gone down to the dock to book passage back to Seattle, that's where she's gone."

  "Don't be ridiculous!" Melba signaled for Johnny and the young man hurried over.

  "You didn't find her, Melba?"

  "No. My girls were both asleep. They didn't hear or see anything. Johnny, I want you to go up and down the street looking for her. Knock on doors if you have to. Just find her."

  Adam yanked open the stiff white collar of his starched shirt. "Damn it, why did I let her do this to me! Why did I let her make me love her?"

  "Adam, there's something wrong here." Melba's eyes met his. "She wouldn't just not show up."

  "You said yourself that she asked you to leave."

  "Well, yes. But she just wanted to be alone. A girl has a right to a little privacy before her wedding. It's a big step for an independent woman like Jessica."

  "Too big a step, maybe?" Adam ran a hand over his head. "Christ, don't you see, Melba? She changed her mind at the last minute and didn't have the nerve to tell me herself."

  Melba took one of Adam's big hands in hers. "You've got it all wrong. I'm telling you, there's something going on here. If Jessica had changed her mind, she'd have told you face-to-face. If there's one thing Jessica Landon isn't, it's a coward. She's in some kind of danger, I just know it."

  He gave a humorless laugh, snatching his hand from Melba's. "She sure as hell will be in danger if I get hold of her! She's made a fool of me in front of everyone."

  Melba dropped her hands to her hips. "What's wrong with you?" she asked angrily. "You're not thinking right. Jessica loves you. You know that! She'd never leave you, not of her own free will."

  "She loves me?" He leaned on the roughly cut windowsill. He could feel the loose sawdust beneath his fingertips. "I suppose maybe she did, but she didn't love me enough to spend the rest of her life with me . . . with a half-breed."

  Melba drew herself up in anger. "So that's it, is it? That's why she'd leave you? Because you're a redskin?"

  He turned to her, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Why else? She didn't want to put up with the crap. She wanted to be served when she ordered a meal. She wanted a hotel room without having to sneak me up the back staircase. You can't blame a person for that."

  Melba laughed. "Don't flatter yourself. If she was going to leave you, that would be the last reason! If she was going to leave you it would be because you were opinionated, because you were a perfectionist, because you were too damned stupid to see the truth when it's staring you in the face! Not because of the color of your skin."

  He turned away, feeling his chest tighten and his eyes grow moist. "So she did leave me," he said softly.

  "No," Melba answered. She came up behind him and laid her hand on his shoulder. "She didn't. Because if she was going to, she'd have done it along time ago. I'm telling you, Adam Sern, that woman loves you more than I've ever known any woman to love a man. And if you think differently, then you're a fool! You're a fool and you don't deserve her!"

  For a long moment Adam was silent. He could hear the wedding guests behind him talking quietly. Talking about him and the woman who had stood him up at his own wedding. Some were leaving, others were helping themselves to the wedding feast. He could hear their hushed voices as they made their guesses as to what had happened to Miss Jessica. Adam could hear his own strained breathing as he struggled to remain in control.

  Adam wanted to believe Melba. He wanted to believe that his Jessica wouldn't leave him, not after all they'd been through together. But he'd lived his whole life with prejudice. It seemed to be something the white race were born with. Logic couldn't conquer it, maybe love couldn't either.

  "Adam Sern?" a deep voice called.

  Adam turned in confusion to face the stranger standing in the doorway. He was a tall man with a beard and mustache.

  "Yes, I'm Adam Sern. Who are you?"

  The man's face was without expression. "I'm Federal Marshal Lionel James and you're under arrest, Mr. Sern. You can come quietly, or you can be chained and carried out of here."

  A hush fell over the sunny room. The wedding guests all turned in surprise.

  Adam inhaled sharply. His head was buzzing. He felt dizzy. "There must be a mistake. I'm Deputy Marshal Sern. It's the man Lawrence Caine you're looking for. He's the murderer."

  The federal marshal spread his legs in an easy stance. His hand fell to his pistol. "There's been no mistake, Sern. There's plenty of evidence. Plenty of documentation. The Union Pacific Railroad has provided us with copies of the telegraph records. We know where you were and when you were there." He paused. "I'll take your badge now. You are no longer recognized in these United States or any of its territories as a deputy marshal."

  Adam glanced at Melba. "What's going on here? This some kind of sick joke?"

  "It's no joke, sir. Now come along. " He reached for Adam's arm.

  Adam jerked back. "I have a right to know what I'm being charged with, don't I!"

  "That you do." The marshal gave a nod. "Mr. Sern, you're being charged with four counts of murder, one count of rape, with further charges pending."

  "Murder! Rape!" Adam exploded. "That's absurd! The murder of who?"

  The marshal pulled a piece of paper from inside his coat. "The names of the victims are: Miss Sue Ellen McCleen, also known as Sue Ellen Caine, Miss Becky Larger, Miss Polly Mulvaney, and Miss Gloria Riley." He folded the piece of paper. "All whores, Mr. Sern. All dead. Now come along."

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jessica's hands were tied behind her back. She twisted until it felt as though the hemp rope would saw through her wrists, but the knots refused to loosen. The rough fibers rubbed her tender flesh at her wrists and ankles until they were raw.

  She glanced up at Jacob; he was watching her with a contorted, wild-eyed expression. Jessica drew in a ragged breath. This wasn't the Jacob she had known in Tennessee. That man was gone; he'd been replaced by a madman. She looked away and strained at the knots again as fear thickened in her throat and sent chills down her arms.

  She blamed herself for being so gullible. After all Jacob had done; after he'd chased her across the entire country, why hadn't it occurred to her that he would try to trick her into coming to him. Jacob dying, hah! The little worm, Lansing, had lied to her. He was part of the scheme. He'd led her to this vacant house near the docks to see Jacob.

  Once inside the dark house, Jacob had grabbed her. She had fought like a wildcat, scratching and biting . . . anything to get away. She had punched Jacob so hard that she had split his upper lip. But the two men had overpowered her.

  Nothing she could say would convince Lansing that she wasn't Jacob's runaway wife. Once Jacob had her tied and gagged, he'd asked that Lansing leave him alone with his wife, so that he might calm her. Lansing had backed out of the house and Jessica hadn't seen him since.

  Jessica watched Jacob, wondering how she could get through to him. She had to make him untie her. She tried to speak to him again, but the silk handkerchief he'd tied around her mouth prevented any coherent words from escaping her lips. All she could do was make a low, gravelly sound at the base of her throat. She looked at him, her green eyes pleading.

  Please, Jacob, she cried silently. Don't do this to me. Not on my wedding day.

  She wondered what Adam had done when she hadn't showed up at Johnny's. She wondered why he hadn't come for her. Wasn't he looking? She prayed he would run into Lansing on the street. Adam would know to start his questioning there.

  Jessica's gaze followed Jacob's movement. He leaned against a crude wooden table, staring at her. He was without his customary black coat, and his white shirt was wrinkled and stained. His silver-white hair was uncombed; one tuft stood up on end. His face was unshaven and bore two days' worth of silvery growth. His lips were twisted into an odd little grin.

  "Oh, Jessica, you came to me at last, and in your wedding gown." He clasped hands, tea
rs of joy in his eyes. "You're even more beautiful than I had imagined you would be!"

  She grunted against the gag, and struggled, rocking the ladder-back chair she was tied to.

  "Now, now, love. Don't be angry with me." He came toward her and reached a hand out to caress her cheek.

  Shuddering at his loathesome touch, Jessica squeezed her eyes shut. Where, dear God, is Adam, she thought. The feel of Jacob's cold fingers against her skin made her stomach heave.

  Jacob continued to stroke her cheek, just above the silk gag. "I would take it off, but you might scream." He spoke to her as if she were a naughty child.

  She shook her head violently. "Wouldn't," she mumbled against the cloth. "Just want to talk to you, Jacob." But her voice came out as nothing but a garble of sounds.

  Jacob pulled at the creases of his pants and then squatted in front of her. "But you wouldn't scream, would you, love? Now that you've had your little fit and embarrassed yourself in front of Mr. Lansing, you're all done, aren't you?"

  She nodded, trying to calm the fires she knew must be blazing in her eyes. She was dealing with a man who was mentally off balance. She had to remember that. She had to ignore her fear and think rationally. If he wanted her to be meek and apologetic, she had to be that . . . anything to save her own life.

  "Please, Jacob," she mumbled against the silk handkerchief. "Please," she pleaded, round-eyed with feigned regret. "I won't scream."

  Jacob rested a hand on her knee, obviously considering removing the gag. He stroked the slippery white satin of her wedding gown. It was all Jessica could do to keep from flinching. "You promise?"

  She nodded.

  "Because you know," he said, reaching around to the knot under her bridal veil, "no one could hear you anyway. The sound of that steam engine would more than cover a little peep out of you. And then if you did scream, you'd have to be punished." He stopped, the gag half off. "You don't want me to punish you, do you?"

  She shook her head, afraid to tear her gaze from his eyes. As crazy as Crooked Nose had been, she knew Jacob was crazier, and she knew she was more frightened than she had ever been when she faced death at the hands of the renegades.