When she had arrived in the drawing room, he had been dressed elegantly as well, in a black formal jacket with black trousers braided on the outside seam. His white silk waistcoat covered a plain white shirt with three pearl studs. The sheen from his patent leather shoes reflected the light from the gas lamp. He stood staring at her while he sipped a glass of scotch.
“Are we going out this evening?” She was still on edge, waiting for the explosion she knew was coming. It was just like him to keep her guessing as to when, and what sort of punishment he would mete out.
“Of course, my darling. We are going to the theater where you will smile and tell everyone we meet how happy you are to be home after your trip to visit your ailing aunt in Ohio.”
So that was the story they were to put out about her absence.
After a dinner that tasted like sawdust in her mouth they left for the theater where she, indeed, told everyone about her trip to her dear Aunt Ethel’s home in Ohio. Louis beamed at her and assured them all how happy he was to have his lovely wife home. He kissed her hand, escorted her lovingly to her seat, brought her a glass of wine during intermission, and held her sweating hand throughout the performance.
After bidding friend and foe good evening, he helped her into the automobile, and instructed their driver, Martin to return home. They took the short ride to their residence, where he led her up the stairs to their bedroom.
Once he locked the door he beat her until she was unconscious.
That had been two weeks ago and she was still sore, but the black and blue marks had faded to a pale yellow. The main problem was her ribs, where he’d kicked her several times. She didn’t think they were broken, but they certainly hurt like the devil. She’d managed to wrap a scarf tightly around her midriff, which did offer some relief from the pain.
But the heaviest burden she bore was the ache in her heart. Her slight taste of freedom was worse than if she’d never left at all. She lay in her bed day after day, the tears dripping down her face, wetting her pillows. Too sore to actually allow herself a good, hard cry, she released her sorrow in a slow flood of tears.
What had Hunter thought when he came to collect her for his family’s dinner? She’d known from the start he hadn’t believed her stories about where she’d come from and what her life had been like. She’d seen it in his eyes. Now she would never see him again, never go on another picnic, never sketch trees and small rabbits while he watched over her shoulder.
Never again feel the taste of his lips on hers, or pretend she had the right to his attention and caring.
She should be ashamed of herself. Despite the misery her marriage had brought her, she was still a married woman, and should not have encouraged Hunter’s attentions. If only she’d told him the truth. But pride had kept her from revealing the humiliation of her life.
With a deep sigh, she curled into a ball of misery, and attempted to sleep.
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma Territory
Hunter climbed down the train steps and dropped the worn satchel at his feet. He rubbed his leg muscles, cramped from sitting on the train. He looked around at the station, his eyes landing on the sign hanging from the depot roof.
Oklahoma City.
He waved away the steam from the engine as the train started off with a load of new passengers, headed to Dallas. Picking up his satchel, he made his way slowly to the depot office, giving his leg time to adjust to the walk. Hopefully his trip here would not be a dead end. Something told him this hadn’t been Emily’s last stop. Her accent was too strong to be Oklahoma. That girl had a definite Texas drawl.
The hotel he checked into was clean and right in the middle of town. Drawing on his past experience, he took some time to sit and make a list of how he intended to do his investigation. His sense of urgency had been heightened once he’d stepped off the train. At least he was in the same city Emily had been in with whoever it was that had taken her against her will.
After a supper of steak, mashed potatoes, and corn, topped off with a piece of dried apple pie and coffee, he headed to the police station to have a little chat with the officer on duty.
“I’m an ex-Texas Ranger investigating the disappearance of a young woman from Guthrie. Is there someone I can talk to?”
The officer behind the desk looked him up and down and shifted a wad of tobacco from one side of his mouth to the other. “Is that right? An ex-Texas Ranger? Well, well. I’m impressed, boy.”
This was not the first time Hunter had run into the type. For some reason local law enforcement seemed to resent the Rangers. He’d had problems with cooperation from the locals in Texas, and apparently the antagonism hadn’t skipped Oklahoma.
“Yes, that’s right, sir. I’ve traced her as far as Oklahoma City. I have reason to believe she arrived by a taxi automobile here on Saturday, September twenty-first, most likely late in the evening. She would have been wearing the uniform of a Harvey House waitress and in the company of a man.”
The officer spat a stream of tobacco juice onto the floor. “And, of course, seeing as how you’re a real important ex-Texas Ranger, you believe the police have nothing else to do but watch for taxis arriving in Oklahoma City.”
“No, of course not. I’m merely providing this information in case something happened that night that might have brought the couple to your attention.”
“Nope.”
“Is there a way to check the log for that night?”
“Nope.”
Hunter lowered his head and grinned, his hands on his hips. “All right. I understand you don’t want to help. I can appreciate that. It’s just that checking in with the local police first is how I do my job.”
“What job? You said you were an ex-Texas Ranger.”
“That’s correct. But I’m working a private case. I don’t want the local police hearing there’s a stranger in town asking a lot of questions without knowing who I am and why I’m here.”
The officer studied him for a few moments, shifting the tobacco wad once more. “If you wait here, I’ll check the log for September twenty-first.”
“Thanks.”
Twenty minutes later, Hunter left the building frustrated. There was nothing in the police log that mentioned a problem with a man escorting a woman who didn’t seemed to want to be with him. Not that he expected it to be that easy. At least once the officer had gotten in his jabs, he’d agreed to cooperate.
He checked his watch and decided to have a talk with the night desk clerks at as many hotels as he could cover in one evening.
The first hotel clerk had no memory of a woman dressed in a Harvey House uniform checking in that night. Of course she could have changed clothes, but the taxi driver in Guthrie had stated he’d driven a man, and a woman in a Harvey House uniform to Oklahoma City. Most likely she was still wearing the uniform when they’d arrived here.
He would bet whoever grabbed her hadn’t wanted to call attention to them by having her change before they checked into a hotel.
The second, third, and fourth hotel clerks merely shook their heads when he asked the question. By that time it was well after eleven o’clock and he decided a good night’s sleep would help more than anything else at this point. He trudged back to his hotel, waving a greeting at the desk clerk whom he had already questioned before he’d gone to dinner.
Galveston, Texas
Maria, Emily’s maid, helped her into a dress, adjusting the shoulders, and smoothing the skirt. “You look lovely, Mrs. Smith. I’m so glad you will be visiting your friends today.”
Emily smiled at the older woman who had been with her since she’d married Louis. As fond as Emily was of the woman, she knew Maria was bought and paid for by Louis and had reported things to him that Emily would have preferred she kept to herself. It had only taken her a few months after her marriage to reali
ze all of the staff was under her husband’s thumb. Most likely they were threatened with unemployment if they didn’t adhere to his rules.
“Yes, Maria. It will be nice to leave my bedroom, even if only for a few hours this afternoon.” Louis had visited her this morning and informed her he had accepted an invitation on her behalf to attend a tea at the local women’s club. He smiled as he listed the attendees on whom he wanted useful information.
One of the women was a very nice older lady, Mrs. Fairfield, who had been nothing but kind to Emily. It angered her to have to use her friendship with the woman to pry into her private life. Emily would be searching for information Louis could use against her should she become suspicious of her investments with his firm.
The second woman, a young wife with a new baby, had recently received a sum of money from a deceased relative, and was looking for a place to invest it. Since her husband was overseas on a lengthy assignment for his company, Emily had been ordered to convince Margaret Statler that Louis’s firm would be best to handle her money.
Emily closed her eyes as Maria brushed and twisted her heavy hair into a bun at her nape. How she loathed her life. There would never be another opportunity to escape. Louis had seen to that. She would be watched by the staff very carefully, he’d gleefully informed her. She was trapped. For the rest of her life.
Oh Hunter. Why didn’t I tell you the truth? You would have helped me, I know that now.
It seemed she would spend her life trusting the wrong people. Saving her pride had seemed so important, but she’d come to realize what a mistake she had made. Louis had whisked her away, never to be seen again in Guthrie. No one knew where she was, or would ever be able to find her.
Taking a deep breath to control her emotions, she smiled at Maria and thanked her. Then with her back stiff and her head held high, she left her room and joined Louis at the bottom of the stairs. He would escort her to the Women’s Club tea, right up to the door, where he would join her when it was over. The devoted husband, taking care of his beloved wife.
She swallowed the bile that rose to the back of her throat.
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma Territory
It was Hunter’s third day in Oklahoma City and he knew no more now that he had when he’d arrived. He’d covered every hotel and restaurant, but no one had seen a man escorting a blonde, blue eyed woman in a Harvey House uniform. The conclusion he’d come to was they hadn’t stayed in Oklahoma City, this being only a stopping off point for them.
So began his round of questioning train employees. He’d spoken with conductors, ticket sellers, and porters when he finally got a tip from a ticket seller who had been working at another train station for a couple of weeks.
“Yes, I remember that gal. A pretty little thing. I noticed her because she was dressed in some kind of uniform. Looked kinda lost and confused. Almost scared, you might say. But the man with her was very attentive.” He gave his nose a swipe with a handkerchief before returning it to his pocket.
“I don’t suppose you remember where they were headed?”
“Not off the top of my head. But if you want to come back when I’m finished with my shift, I can take a look at the schedule of trains in and out on that date. If you have some idea of what time they would have been here, I might pin down the train they took.”
Feeling confident for the first time in weeks, Hunter thanked the man and agreed to meet with him when his work day was over. He strode to a saloon and treated himself to a beer. Maybe it was too soon to celebrate, but he felt in his gut this was the break he’d been waiting for.
Within an hour after reviewing train schedules for September twenty-first, Hunter settled into his seat on a train pulling out of the Oklahoma City station.
Galveston, Texas
Not having bothered with a sleeping car, Hunter clambered down the steps of the train feeling tired, scruffy, hungry, and in pain. His leg ached and he rubbed the muscle before trying to move forward. The last thing he wanted was to land on his face in front of a crowd.
As he worked his flesh he looked around, feeling hopeful. This was the place, he could sense it in his bones. Emily had mentioned a beach near enough to her house to walk there. He breathed deeply of the humid air as he took a few tentative steps, then confident of his balance, moved away from the train station.
He’d been in Galveston a few times when he’d been a Ranger. He was familiar with some of the streets and knew several of the residents. While he’d found the local police reluctant to share information with the Rangers, at least they had not been belligerent toward them.
A room, followed by a bath, food, and a few hours of sleep sounded like a good idea. Shifting his satchel from one hand to the other, he walked the few blocks from the train to a street he knew had a few boardinghouses. It would make it easier to blend into the town there than if he stayed at a hotel.
Louis looked over the ledger books again. They needed more investors. If they intended to keep paying the initial clients with the money from the most recent chumps, they had to dig up more business. Emily hadn’t been much help lately. He’d wanted her to cozy up to Margaret Statler, but the bitch claimed they’d never gotten the chance to talk about her money at the Women’s Club meeting. That was bullshit. Perhaps it was time for a little lesson in wifely duties.
He slammed the ledger book shut and shoved himself away from the desk. He rested his feet on the edge and contemplated his wife. It stuck in his craw that he didn’t know what she’d been doing all those months in Guthrie. He’d tried to beat it out of her, but she remained close-mouthed, which told him something happened there. If she’d been spreading her legs for some loser, he’d find out. Just as soon as this mess was cleared up with the business he’d hire someone to poke around up there and see what she’d been doing besides waiting on tables.
“Louis, we have to talk about the disaster looming.” His partner, Greg Sanders entered his office without knocking, just like he owned the place.
His gut tightened as he pondered the man. The idea of setting up this hoax with Sanders had seemed the right thing to do at the time, but now he wished he’d done it alone. Sanders was stupid and testy, and contributed nothing to the business in the way of bringing in new clients.
“What disaster is that, Sanders?”
“Don’t play games with me. We both know we can’t continue with this scheme. It’s worked for more than five years, but it’s done. We need to cut out, take the money we have with us and start over somewhere else.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I put a lot of effort into building a name for myself in Galveston. Unlike you, I’ve cultivated the elite of the town, and joined the best clubs. My wife is the darling of the city, and we live in one of the biggest and finest houses around. This is the life I was meant to have, and this is where I’m staying.”
“You’re forgetting we said from the start this would give us five, six years. We agreed to dissolve it all and start over.” Sanders leaned over the desk, his eyes panicky. “There’s rumbling the Market might be seeing a drop. If Wall Street takes a tumble, we’re dead.”
Louis eyed the man with disdain. “You worry too much. The Market is doing fine, and with a few more clients to shore things up, we’ll be solvent. Stop looking for a catastrophe around every corner.”
Sanders straightened and shook his head. “That’s what I get for going into business with a common criminal. I, at least, have some background in finance.”
Louis lunged forward and grabbed Sanders by the throat. “I might have been a common criminal, but I’ve made more money for you than that fancy college degree of yours ever did.” He released him, shoving him backward. “And don’t forget it.”
Chapter 8
The sun beat down on Hunter’s head as he walked from school to the bank where his father worked. In his hand he hel
d a note from his teacher, which Hunter had the feeling was another request for a meeting to discuss Hunter’s failures as a student. He hated having to deliver the note and seeing the disappointment in his father’s eyes. Why couldn’t he be smart like Michael, or Rachel, or Ellie? Why did all things relating to school seem to elude him?
Not wishing to have the entire family witness to his disgrace, it was better to see Papa at work. He pushed open the large bronze door to the Kansas Fidelity Bank where his father was Bank Manager. The bank was quiet, and Hunter nodded to Mrs. Abrams who left just as he arrived.
Hunter kept the note behind his back and approached his father’s desk. ‘Henry Henderson’ was engraved on the bronze plate above Papa’s desk. He put down his pen and smiled when Hunter grew near. “Good afternoon, son. What brings you here today?” He frowned and added, “Is everything all right at home?”
With one brother and two sisters and no Mama since she’d died of influenza, Hunter was aware that his father worried a lot about them being on their own while he worked. “Everything is fine.”
His father continued to smile at him, making Hunter shift from foot to foot. “Well, actually, I have something for you.” He held out the note.
Papa took the note and opened it. But instead of disappointment, his eyes reflected sympathy. “More trouble with your lessons?”
“Yes, Papa.”
“Come here, son.” His father held out his arm and Hunter circled the desk until he stood next to Papa, snug against his side.
Anyplace But Here (Oklahoma Lovers Series Book 5) Page 7