Alana

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Alana Page 19

by Barrie, Monica


  When they both stood, Alana to retire to her room for the night, Crystal to go to work, Alana went over to Crystal and suddenly, impulsively embraced her.

  “Thank you, Crystal, for everything.”

  They held each other for several minutes, and when they parted, both women’s eyes were misty.

  A few nights after that, they were again sitting in the dining room, once more talking about their lives, when Crystal began to talk about her brother. Crystal found it too painful to mention her brother by name, and indeed, she was reluctant to discuss him at all. She revealed only that those who wanted to take over the family business had killed her brother.

  Alana saw that Crystal held herself responsible for her brother’s death and her losing the business.

  In order to help Crystal with her sadness, Alana deftly changed the subject. “What about Chaco? I have never seen a black man so devoted to a white woman.”

  “I had been afraid it might offend you,” Crystal said after she’d gained control over her emotions.

  “Why?” Alana asked, puzzled, remembering the conversation the first time Chaco and Crystal had come to Riverbend.

  “Because he is always near me. It would not be the first time someone thought him to be my lover.”

  “No,” Alana said with a curt shake of her head. “It is clear that he is devoted to you as a son to his mother or a brother to his sister.”

  “You are wiser than you let on,” Crystal said. Then she told Alana the story of Chaco’s life–of his being taken from Africa when he was a child and sold in the black market of the Caribbean islands and then brought to the South. When the war had started, his master had sold him to a slaver who had taken Chaco west. By the end of the war, he was again, not really as a slave, but as a fee paid for his services to the bordello where Crystal worked. She explained how their friendship grew and of Chaco’s devotion to her.

  After hearing the story, Alana understood not only the relationship between Chaco and Crystal but how good a woman Crystal Revanche was.

  And so, one pleasantly warm April day, with the sun pouring through the window, Alana was not surprised when Crystal threw open the door of her study.

  “It is time,” Crystal proclaimed.

  “Time?” Alana asked with raised eyebrows.

  “I spent all night going over the figures for Landow Shipping. Even with the small contracts we get from time to time, it is not enough. Unless we do something, we shall never be able to hurt Ledoque! We must find a European or Oriental contract.”

  “How?”

  “Alana, in order to be successful, really successful, a shipping company must have either an office in a major port or an agent in that port.” Crystal paused only long enough for her words to sink in to Alana’s mind. “Before we can decide on either of those options, we must decide on whether we want to go after the European or the Oriental trade.”

  For the first time, Alana spoke. “European. The Oriental routes originate on the West Coast. That’s too far from here.”

  “Agreed,” Crystal stated. “Then we’ll go after European shipping. Now,” she said as she sat across from Alana, “do we hire an agent or open an office?”

  Alana would never recover from Ledoque’s treachery as an agent. “An agent will be too costly and too risky. How do we know who to trust?”

  “Exactly. That’s why we must open our own office out of Charleston.”

  “But–”

  “Ledoque presently controls Charleston and the South. We can’t fight him here. We must do it from afar and return to take him on when we are strong enough! We will have to use an agent at the beginning; however, it will not be the usual arrangement. We will secure an agent only for the first European contract. Even then, we will be using the agent only as a broker. After that we will handle all our own business affairs.”

  “Good,” Alana said, still waiting for Crystal to explain everything.

  “Our next problem is this: Who will go to New York and set up our office?”

  Alana stared at Crystal, unsure of what she should say. There was only one clear thought in her mind. “I–I can’t run a whorehouse,” she whispered.

  Crystal’s laugh was light and musical. “I know that, Alana. But I can run a whorehouse and also manage your plantation while you’re away.”

  “When?” Alana asked hesitantly.

  “Not for a while. We have much to do. A few months at the earliest.”

  Leaving Riverbend was the last thing Alana wanted to do, but she let the memory of the pain Charles Ledoque had caused surface. “All right,” she said in a strong voice.

  She saw a figure by the open door but ignored it as Crystal outlined more of the details of what they would be doing. Alana was uneasy at the way the shadowy shape had moved past her study, but soon she was lost within Crystal’s words as she gave Crystal her full attention.

  ~~~~~

  Charles Ledoque stared at the beautiful young woman who stood before him in his private study at his residence. His eyes roamed over her as his tongue moistened his lips. Her dress was low cut and tight across her breasts, giving him an unrestricted view of deep cleavage.

  “What news have you brought me?” he asked the young prostitute.

  “News enough to earn my money,” she said confidently.

  “Let’s hear it.”

  The woman smiled for a moment before she spoke. “Crystal and Alana are going to open an office in New York. They think that they can build enough of a business to be able to hurt you.”

  “Do they?” Ledoque asked absently as he continued to stare at the woman. “When will they take this, ah–bold step?”

  “Crystal told Alana they would do it in a few months.”

  “Tell me everything they said, everything!” Ledoque demanded.

  When the woman finished, Ledoque handed her several gold coins. Instead of leaving, she stayed and smiled brazenly at him. “You’ve paid for more than I gave you. Do you want something else?” she asked in invitation.

  Ledoque’s eyes turned hard. “Do you find me attractive?” he asked.

  “Oh yes,” she whispered in a husky, seductive voice.

  “No, my dear, it’s my money that attracts you, nothing else. That is how I want it. Go back and be a whore. Keep your eyes and ears open. Report anything to me about the dealings of those two women, anything at all!”

  The woman knew when to leave and did so, aware of the vast amount of money she could make by giving Ledoque only small pieces of information at a time.

  When she was gone, Ledoque sat back, a satisfied smile on his face. “So you want to hurt me, do you, Alana? You’ll never be able to do that, my sweet.”

  Suddenly Ledoque laughed. When his laughter died, his face turned hard and his eyes darkened. In his mind, he was taking his pleasure of her slowly, very, very slowly, almost as slowly as he had killed the stallion and the broodmare.

  16

  May1867

  A month after Alana and Crystal had decided the future of Landow Shipping, Alana was in her office opening a letter that had just arrived from Carlton DuPont. When she finished reading, her thoughts took off in a wild fancy of imagination and hope. Forcing a modicum of restraint on herself, she left the office to find Crystal. She didn’t have far to go, as Crystal was already at her own desk in the library.

  Alana fairly danced in, released the letter, and watched it float down onto Crystal’s desk. “I think we just got very lucky,” Alana stated.

  After reading the letter, Crystal smiled broadly. “It does look that way. I guess this means that you’ll be going to New York sooner than we had planned.”

  “But why? If this commission works out, surely we can still run everything from here?”

  Crystal shook her head emphatically. “Now it’s even more important to open an office in New York.”

  Silence fell while they both thought about the change the letter signified. Carlton DuPont forwarded the commission. The women had dec
ided to keep on as the company’s lawyer, despite his own protestations of having failed Alana once.

  The commission was for Landow Shipping to deliver a consignment of goods to New York, where it would then pick up a second consignment of equipment destined for Cape Hope, South Africa. The return shipment would be materials earmarked for Charleston.

  It was the largest contract they’d gotten since becoming partners and one that they knew they could not turn down–the profit from this one triangular commission would be too high.

  “This will be the start of our becoming a large shipping company,” Crystal prophesied. “It’s the chance we’ve been looking for!”

  “Then we’d best go to Charleston.”

  “Yes,” Crystal agreed.

  An hour later, Alana, Crystal, and Chaco were on the riverboat, heading to Charleston. Lilith, Crystal’s assistant, was taking charge of Riverbend in their absence.

  In Charleston, they went directly to DuPont’s office, where they learned the details of the commission and of Carlton DuPont’s doubts.

  “I don’t like it at all,” DuPont stated after handing the women the contract. “I’ve never heard of this company, and I must object to their conditions.”

  Gazing at DuPont, Alana sensed a change in the older lawyer–a positive change. Carlton DuPont seemed to have shed several years since she’d last seen him. He was more animated and much more like the man she had always remembered–a dispenser of good sense.

  “But it is a standard clause,” Crystal stated after glancing at the loss/reimbursement section.

  “Yes, for a large shipping company–one that can afford the new maritime insurance–but not for you. If your ship is lost, not even the sale of Riverbend will be sufficient to reimburse the company.”

  “Then we mustn’t lose the shipment,” Alana declared.

  “Are there any other reasons for you to object to this contract?” Crystal asked DuPont in a level voice.

  “A feeling I have. For whatever that may be worth.”

  “Is it possible you’re being overcautious because of Ledoque?”

  “Of course it is,” DuPont said with an irritated shrug. “But even considering that, can Landow risk the loss of one of its two ships?”

  Alana’s looked at Crystal for support. “We know that it was Ledoque who cost us our ships, not the vagaries of the sea. Uncle Carlton, we may never get another chance like this.”

  “I still feel it my duty to advise against accepting this commission,” the lawyer reaffirmed.

  “Crystal?” Alana asked.

  Crystal looked from DuPont to Alana. When she spoke, her question was directed to DuPont. “I take it you investigated this agent?”

  “I did. I telegraphed an inquiry to an attorney in New York whom I’ve known for a long time. Nathan Bennet is a man whom I trust implicitly. His reply was that Jonathan Martin is an independent agent of the highest repute.”

  “Why doesn’t that satisfy you?” Crystal asked.

  “I keep asking myself the same question,” DuPont remarked. Leaning back in the chair, the lawyer ran his fingers through his thin white hair in a thoughtful gesture. “It does not satisfy me because I don’t know the agent personally. He could be another of Ledoque’s minions.”

  “He could be,” Crystal agreed, “but if we think like that every time we’re offered a commission, we’ll never grow. Landow Shipping will be doomed to extinction. No, I agree with Alana, we must take the chance.”

  “Very well,” DuPont said. “Sign this contract, and I shall pray you are both right and I am wrong.”

  “So shall we,” Alana added as she looked at her father’s friend. Thanking DuPont for his advice and help, Alana asked him to arrange for the lawyer in New York to begin the process of setting up an office for Landow Shipping.

  After leaving DuPont’s office, the women went to Tadd Street and the house that served no longer as a bordello but rather as the city residence for Alana and Crystal. Once there, the women ate a light dinner that the housekeeper prepared for them.

  They would return to Riverbend in the morning, but tonight, Crystal had declared, would be one of celebration and planning.

  The two women talked well into the night as they made their plans. When they finally went to sleep, they were unaware that Chaco, who had been close by, went downstairs to seat himself near the front door.

  For Chaco had heard everything they had planned and knew that until Crystal had succeeded in defeating her enemy, he might strike at any time.

  Chaco would never allow that to happen, never.

  ~~~~~

  Rafe paced the confines of the office, looking more like a trapped lion than a rich businessman. His tall, powerful body was tense; the expensive shirt he wore did not hide the rippling muscles of his chest as he stalked angrily back and forth.

  “No more!” Rafe stated. Stopping, he fixed Caleb Magee with a hard glare. “I listened to you. We did things your way. We did everything we could, but we learned nothing! Now I’m going to do it my way!”

  Caleb did not immediately reply. When he did, he stared directly into Rafe’s narrowed eyes. “Son, I can’t help but agree with you.” His admission made Rafe’s tight features ease.

  “No!” Abigail Hampton protested. “It’s too dangerous. Give it a little more time.”

  Rafe shook his head in denial. “How much more time, Abigail? We’ve spent months trying to learn who is behind Caruthers and Murdock. Even after they accepted me as a businessman looking for a shipping company, they never gave the slightest hint about who is controlling them. I know damned well it wasn’t they who took my business.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Abigail challenged, her wise eyes no longer looking old but strong and probing.

  “They had one small office before the war. They were pariahs who lived off the leavings of others. They were nothing. Three months after I left, they owned my company. They had neither the brains nor the money to do that. Someone smart and powerful is behind them. That’s who I want.”

  Abigail nodded her head. “But I still don’t agree that the use of force will get you any more answers.”

  “We’ll know in an hour, won’t we?” Rafe said simply.

  “I think I’d best go with you, son,” Caleb said.

  Rafe shook his head. “Not this time, Caleb.” With that, Rafe picked up the jacket he had carelessly tossed onto a chair and left the office.

  Behind him, Caleb looked at Abigail. “I don’t think I should be staying here,” he said.

  “Neither do I, Caleb. Rafe’s a good man. He’s young, strong, and hotheaded. He’s also being controlled by his hate. That’s dangerous, Caleb, very dangerous. He could make a mistake because of that–a fatal mistake.”

  “I don’t know, Abigail. Rafe’s burning up inside. The only way it’s going to stop is when he finds out who tried to destroy him. I think he can control his temper, at least until he finds out the name of his enemy. And I know he can damn well take care of himself. It’s the unknown–the people he’s going up against–that worries me.”

  “Then you’d best be going along, Caleb.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.” Just before he left, he bent and took Abigail into his arms. His lips covered hers for a quick moment. When he drew his head back, he saw the sparkle in her eyes. “Just make sure that both of you come back, Caleb Magee!”

  “There ain’t a thing that’s going to stop me from doing that, Abigail,” he promised.

  When Caleb left the office, a special smile was on his face, one that matched, to the very last detail, the one on Abigail Hampton’s face. He kept smiling as he followed Rafe through the back door of the office building that was just closing down for the day.

  ~~~~~

  Rafe walked up the wooden stairs at exactly six o’clock, his every step catlike and quiet. He knew his destination, and he knew, too, that the office manager would be the last person to leave for the day. He had watched the building for two weeks and
knew the routine.

  Once he had realized neither Caruthers or Murdock would let slip the name of the man, or men, behind them, he had dropped that line of questioning shortly after they’d sat down to discuss the shipping contract that had been Rafe’s ploy to meet with them.

  This week both men were out of town, and Rafe believed that of all the people in the company, the office manager, Reginald Harris, by the necessity of his position, would have to know all the details of the business. Rafe had two ideas in mind for when he talked to the man. The first was an outright bribe; the second–he preferred not to think of that yet.

  Rafe stopped at the back door of the second-floor office. Putting his ear to the door, he listened intently for any sounds on the other side. His body hummed with tension and his blood raced through his veins, building a sharp edge to his anticipation.

  When he was satisfied no one except the office manager was in the room, he stepped back. Taking a deep preparatory breath, Rafe lunged forward, slamming his shoulder into the wood.

  He ignored the jarring pain in his shoulder as the lock snapped. An instant later, he was inside, facing the wide-eyed office manager, who had been halfway to the other door on his way out of the office.

  “Who are you? What is the meaning of this?” the man demanded. “We keep no money here,” he added quickly.

  “Mr. Harris,” Rafe began as he nonchalantly straightened his jacket, “I am here to make you an offer, not to rob you.”

  The office manager was backing away from what he assumed to be a madman. For the moment, Rafe let him think that.

  “What kind of an offer does someone bring when they break into a private office?” A nervous tremor laced his words.

  “An offer of five thousand dollars in exchange for certain information,” Rafe stated in a flat, unemotional voice.

  The man’s eyes shifted skittishly. “What kind of information?”

  “Caruthers and Murdock have a partner. I want to know who it is.”

  “Partner? Don’t be ridiculous,” Harris said. He had backed against his desk as he spoke, and when his words ended, he raced around to the other side.

 

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