At exactly eleven thirty, Rafe, with Chaco wearing an appropriate servant’s livery, walked up the five marble steps leading to the wide mahogany doors of the Wellington Club. The uniformed doorman who had just admitted two other men still held the door open, but they stared speculatively at Rafe. When Rafe nodded his head familiarly, the doorman smiled as if he recognized him.
His muscles vibrated tensely when he stepped inside and smelled the heavy odor of leather and tobacco mixed with wood oil. When the door closed, Rafe looked around, Murphy’s description of Allison’s bodyguard filling his mind.
The club was fairly crowded, which helped to ease some of Rafe’s tension. It sprang fully back when he saw Benjamin Corsell standing near the archway leading into the main room.
“Watch him,” Rafe whispered to Chaco, nodding his head at Corsell. When Chaco’s eyes locked onto the bodyguard, Rafe knew the man was no longer a threat.
A moment later, an elegantly uniformed man bowed his head to Rafe and waited.
“I’m Richard Sutcliff. Mr. Allison is expecting me,” he told the room attendant. “Is he at his booth?”
“Of course, Mr. Sutcliff,” the attendant said as he started to turn.
“That’s all right, I’ll find him myself.” Before the attendant had a chance to object, Rafe started into the ornate room.
The room was large and lit by four evenly spaced chandeliers, aided by brass oil lamps resting in niches on each wall. The oak floor gleamed beneath its many coats of varnish, and the furniture was of the finest quality. Cigar smoke hung thick in the air, cloudlike above the heads of the members of this exclusive club.
Rafe walked steadily toward the booths lining the far side of the room. He felt apart from everything, a spectator watching a staged drama unfold. That ethereal feeling left him quickly when his eyes found Allison’s booth and he spotted the man he had come three thousand miles to destroy. He noted that Allison was not alone. Three other men were with him, none of whom he recognized.
In that very moment, when he saw his enemy sitting so comfortably, another thought suddenly attacked him. A picture of Alana, staring at him with love and fear, cautioned him to hold back the anger that threatened to explode. His love for Alana made him think of the possible future for the first time that day.
When Rafe was ten feet from the booth, Allison looked up. Rafe stopped to smile at the man’s startled reaction. Allison lifted a hand in a quick signal. A moment later footsteps approached Rafe from behind. They stopped before they reached him.
Rafe smiled wide at Allison’s suddenly stiff face, secure in the knowledge that Chaco had cut off the bodyguard. Reaching into his pocket, he grasped the handle of the knife Murphy had attempted to use on him.
When he reached the booth, all four men stared openly at him. Allison had recovered from his initial shock and glared darkly into Rafe’s face. The man sitting next to Allison looked at Rafe with disdain. His dark eyes narrowed into slits; his thick lips drawn into a sneer.
Moving quickly, Rafe drew the knife from his pocket and lifted it high. Four pairs of eyes followed the blade, each man’s reaction different from that of the man next to him. Allison’s face drained of blood at the sight of the blade. Rafe swung his arm downward. The blade glinted in the light and flashed dangerously as it struck into the heart of the large teak table.
When it entered the thick wood, Rafe heard the startled gasps of the other club members, but he paid them no attention. He wanted them to witness what he was doing. He knew, too, that not a single member of this club would raise a hand or voice to interfere. And, although they would all watch from the comers of their eyes, pretending that nothing out of the ordinary was happening, Rafe knew they would hear everything he said, and they would remember it.
Releasing the blade, Rafe watched it quiver back and forth in the silence that now filled the main room of the Wellington Club.
“It didn’t work, Allison. I’m still alive. I’m still in your way. Now you’re going to pay for everything you’ve done to me and my family!” Rafe drew himself taller. His hatred and rage bored into Allison as he spoke in a voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.
Rapidly Rafe detailed Allison’s crimes against his family, then went on to tell of the other things that Allison had done that Rafe had only learned of that day. Not once in the entire time did he take his eyes from Allison’s. Staring into the pale, hate-filled face of his enemy, Rafe told Allison of the signed confession and statement that Mike Murphy had given him.
When he finished, he boldly met Allison’s stony glare. Only when the color began to rush back into Allison’s face did Rafe step back.
When he was five feet from the booth, he stopped again. “You’re finished, Allison,” he said with conviction. “You’re through.”
When he reached Chaco, who stood with his knife pressed into the bodyguard’s side, he motioned to Chaco with his head, and in less than a minute, they were in the carriage and driving away from the Wellington Club.
Slowly Rafe leaned back into the seat. The rage began to ebb from him, and a faint smile touched the corners of his mouth.
~~~~~
James Allison’s hands shook with anger and humiliation. His eyes followed Rafe until the man was gone. Then Allison looked around the room. The members who had not already turned away from the spectacle did so then.
“Montgomery will pay for this,” he swore. “No one talks to me like that. No one!”
The glass in Allison’s hand shattered. He paid no attention to the whiskey that spilled onto his lap as he absently shook the pieces of glass from his skin. Allison knew that the damage Montgomery had done to his stature today would follow him for a while. He was confident it would eventually fade away, for his power was strong enough to make the other members not pursue what they had overheard.
No, Allison’s anger and concern centered on Montgomery’s next step. Everything depended on that.
When he realized his bodyguard was standing at the booth, he looked sneeringly up at the man. “You stupid fool,” Allison spat at the hapless man. “I told you to take care of Montgomery. You failed! You didn’t even have the sense to follow him now.”
“I’ll finish the job myself,” Corsell promised.
Strangely, Allison laughed at Corsell’s words. “We’ll see about that.” His voice was suddenly light, and the other men at the table watched Allison carefully. “Montgomery is a predictable man. He’s the type who believes that everything is black or white–right or wrong. That’s what made it so easy to get rid of him the first time.”
“Not so easy,” Ledoque said. “He came back.”
“I’ll kill him, Mr. Allison,” Corsell promised.
“No, you won’t!” Allison ordered, his eyes not leaving Ledoque. “He’ll die, but not quickly, and not by our hands. What I have in mind for Rafael Montgomery will make a swift death his dearest wish. Corsell,” he said, “bring me writing material.” The men waited in silence. An attendant came to clean the glass and liquid from the table. After Corsell returned, Allison spoke in a low voice that unheard beyond the booth. When he was finished, everyone at the booth, with the exception of Ledoque, smiled in approval.
“Charles? What seems to be bothering you?” Allison asked pointedly.
Ledoque met his challenge. “Only one thing.”
“Yes?”
“I shall be the one to implement this plan.”
Allison frowned. “It would be best if none of us are involved at that level.”
“No one shall know of my involvement. And it suits my other purpose very well.”
Allison, seeing the lust in Ledoque’s eyes, shrugged his shoulders. “Very well, Charles, but have it finished by morning.”
“It shall be,” Ledoque promised. “Oh, it shall be.”
While Ledoque thought over Allison’s plan for Rafe, James Allison set pen to paper. When he was finished, he signaled Corsell to him.
“Go to the Venture and giv
e this to Captain Clarke. Tell him I want to see him early this evening.”
“Yes, sir. And then?”
“Find this fool Murphy and make sure he cannot ever speak again. After that, you’re at Mr. Ledoque’s service.”
~~~~~
“You’ve done everything you could for now, Rafe. We just have to wait for Allison’s next step,” Alana whispered as she adjusted her hat and looked into the mirror. The five hours she had waited in the hotel room for his return had been among the longest of her life.
“I have to wait,” he corrected her as he paced aimlessly in the room while Alana continued to apply the finishing touches to her outfit.
After he’d returned from the Wellington Club, he’d taken Murphy and his family to the docks, where he bought passage for them on a ship that was leaving in two days. He had arranged for the small family to stay aboard until the ship left and had paid the captain accordingly.
He’d given Murphy a letter for Caleb Magee and Abigail Hampton that detailed everything that had happened, and he had told them of his promise to Murphy.
When he’d left the ship, he had returned to the hotel room and had spent the afternoon with Alana, making plans for his next step in destroying Allison. He would begin tonight.
“I’m ready,” Alana said as she moved toward Rafe.
Rafe paused in his pacing, feeling the familiar warmth spread within him when she reached him. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes devouring her beautiful face. “I love you, Alana, more than life itself.”
Alana blinked back the quick rise of tears that his words brought out. Then, when he’d lowered her hand, she drew it free. “We’ll be late,” she reminded him, willing the rise of her unending desire for Rafe to ease.
“We’ll never be late, Alana. Other people will always be early, remember that.”
The serious tone of his voice caught her off guard, and only the sparkle in his eyes told her he was joking. Beneath the merriment, she sensed that his words said much more. It said they were special.
A few minutes later, Rafe and Alana were in the carriage. Chaco rode on the foothold behind them as they went across town to have dinner with Alana’s attorney and his wife.
At midnight, they emerged from the townhouse. They had had a pleasant dinner and had told the attorney everything that had happened today and over the past few years. Nathan Bennet, very disturbed, had promised to check into the situation.
“Your most important concern should be having Allison charged with the crimes for which you have a confession,” Bennet counseled. “At the same time bring a suit against Allison and his companies for the return of your rightful assets. I give you my word that I shall personally use my influence to help you.”
“Thank you,” Rafe had said.
Once in the carriage, and with the horse’s hooves echoing on the cobblestone street, Alana leaned comfortably against Rafe.
“Alana,” he queried in a soft, sweet tone.
“Ummm?” she responded, a feeling of contentment washing over her while her head rested on his shoulder.
“Will you marry me tomorrow?”
Alana raised her head. She stared at him, her eyes misting over. She was barely able to nod her head.
“Good. I was afraid I’d have to steal you away.”
“You did,” she whispered, “on September twenty-sixth, eighteen sixty-five. The day you walked up to Riverbend and into my life.”
He drew up the arm that was around her shoulders until his hand cupped the back of her uptilted head. Then, very slowly, he brought her face toward his.
Just when their lips met, the carriage came to a jarring halt. Alana was thrown across the carriage and, as Rafe reached out to help her, the door flew open and a dark object flashed through the air.
A dull thud echoed. Alana watched in horror as Rafe slumped to the floor and three men rushed into the carriage.
20
Everything happened so fast that by the time Alana opened her mouth to scream, one man had a pistol pointed at Rafe’s head, another was aimed at her, and the third spoke as carriage started up again.
“So this is the man for whom you would turn me down?” Ledoque asked. “Bitch!” he spat, his hand snaking out to strike her even as he spoke the word.
Alana’s cheek exploded with pain. Orange flashes danced before her eyes. She fought wildly to hold on to her senses. As she tasted her own blood on the inside of her mouth, Ledoque roared at her again.
“Watch him! See how your lover dies!” Ledoque nodded to the man holding the gun at Rafe’s head.
“No!” Alana shrieked, launching herself blindly at the gunman. Before she could reach him, the second man grabbed her by her hair and yanked her harshly back.
“You want him to live?” Ledoque asked, his face partially hidden by the dark shadows of the carriage’s interior.
Alana nodded her head quickly. Blood pooled in her mouth, but she ignored the pain in her cheek and the hand holding her hair as she glared her hatred at Ledoque.
“Then you will be mine from now on, won’t you?”
“Pig!” she cried, spitting a mouthful of blood at him.
Ledoque slowly wiped his face. “Shoot him.”
“No!” Alana pleaded again.
Ledoque held out his hand. The gunman waited. “You are the price for his life. Will you pay it?”
Frozen within this terrible moment of time, she stared at Ledoque, her mind reeling. Then she looked down at Rafe. Her heart thudded loudly when she realized that his eyes were open.
Galvanizing her mind into action, she glared at Ledoque. “You bastard!” she shouted, launching herself at him in an effort to draw attention away from Rafe.
Her ploy failed. The man next to her held her fast, and the other gunman pressed the barrel into the side of Rafe’s neck when he tried to rise.
Ledoque laughed while she looked on helplessly. “I’m still waiting for your answer, my dear.”
“No!” Rafe yelled suddenly, fighting to push himself up. Before he could, his captor whipped the pistol into the air and smashed the barrel into the side of his head. Blackness claimed him instantly.
In the confines of the carriage, Alana saw the flowing dark stain of blood spread across Rafe’s face. “Answer me!” Ledoque demanded.
Her mind twisted painfully in an effort to understand how Rafe could be lying on the carriage floor and Ledoque sitting across from her. She could not.
She spoke without taking her eyes from Rafe’s unconscious form. Her voice sounded far away and foreign to her ears. “Whatever the price, I’ll pay it. Do not kill him.”
Behind her blue eyes, a spark of defiance flared, but she quickly hid it before Ledoque saw it. I will pay the price, she repeated silently to herself, but not so great a one as will you, even I have to chase you to hell and back!
Ledoque lifted his walking stick, the same dark smooth object that had struck Rafe the first time, and rapped on the carriage roof. A moment later the carriage stopped.
When the door opened, two more men looked in. Ledoque grabbed Alana and pushed her from the carriage into their waiting arms. Then, when he stood on the street next to Alana, he called to the driver. “Take him away.”
Alana tried to twist free of her captors, but she could not. “What are you going to do with him?”
“He won’t be killed. That’s all you have to know.” With that, the first carriage rolled away and a second came up to them.
Alana, held fast by the men, watched her carriage leave and saw that Chaco was nowhere in sight. Then the men picked her up again and shoved into Ledoque’s carriage. A moment later, Ledoque joined her. This time, there were only the two of them.
When the carriage started forward, Alana stared at Ledoque. “Where are we going?” she asked, making her mind function and willing herself not to give in to fear.
“You shall see. And Alana, I would advise against your trying to run away from me. Think of Montgomery befor
e you do anything foolish.”
Alana glared at him, but she knew she was helpless to do anything–yet.
~~~~~
Chaco had spent most of his life enduring pain, and he did not give in to it now. Images of Crystal and Alana raced through his mind. He knew he could not let them down. He had been hit from behind on the head, but even as his body had rolled to a stop on the cobblestones, his feet had been under him and he had been up and racing after the carriage. He hadn’t had time to see whether the driver, lying in the gutter, was alive or dead–he couldn’t take the chance of letting the carriage out of his sight.
Another carriage had fallen in behind Alana’s. Ignoring the throbbing in his head and the sharp pain from the scraped and cut skin on his legs from the cobblestones, Chaco had continued to follow the carriages, never once letting them out of his sight.
When both carriages had come to a halt in the center of a dimly lit street, Chaco had slipped into a doorway to watch and to wait for an opportunity to help.
He had tensed when Alana was pushed out of her carriage, but he knew that he could not yet free her. He waited to see what would happen and to see what Rafe would do. All too soon, he realized his wait was in vain, for the carriage started off again with Rafe still inside.
As Alana and the men walked toward the second carriage, the light of the gas streetlamp illuminated their features. Chaco’s breath caught when he recognized Ledoque. Only then did Chaco know that he could not follow the carriage with Rafe but must stay with Alana.
Ledoque and Alana disappeared inside the carriage, and the two other men took their protective positions, one in front with the driver, and the other in the rear. When the carriage started off, Chaco slipped out from his hiding place.
~~~~~
Rafe’s carriage came to a stop at the waterfront, where the streets were still alive with people. Sailors walked with their women, while others brawled over anything at all.
The docks and the waterfront were a beehive that was never still, and like a beehive, they functioned perfectly as long as no one bothered anyone else.
Alana Page 24