Wilder Than the Rest: MacLarens of Fire Mountain

by Shirleen Davies

  Mollie focused on a small group of men several yards behind Chaz. She was certain one was Thomas Traxton and another, William Hardy. Without hesitating, she left her position, skirting the crowd while keeping the men in sight. Mollie was almost halfway there when she glanced toward Pierce’s location and realized he was gone and so was Lee. She came to an abrupt halt and scanned the area. From her current spot, Mollie couldn’t find either and felt her heart rate quicken as her concern for Pierce increased.

  She swung her attention back to where Traxton and Hardy were standing a moment before. Both had disappeared.

  Mollie took off at a run toward the last spot she’d seen them, rounding a corner in time to see Traxton disappear down an alley. She dropped her parasol, gripped her gun in one hand and her skirt in the other as she tore down the backstreet after him. Mollie stopped when the alley turned, peering around the corner as Traxton stepped through a doorway and out of sight.

  ******

  The four MacLarens stood in a line in front of the podium, each with a hand on the butt of their weapon as Lee and Pierce converged on the man they’d identified as Owen Kendall. They knew if the assassin pulled a weapon, he’d be dead where he stood. It was now a question of who would take him down first.

  “Stop, Owen!” Lee’s voice rang out, drawing the crowd’s attention away from the president and toward the tall, dark-haired man near the center. Lee pulled out his badge, waving it in front of him as he kept walking. Owen didn’t stop. “Owen Kendall, stop where you are!” Lee shouted once more. The crowd began to part as Lee continued to display his badge while lifting his other hand, the revolver aimed toward his ex-partner.

  Pierce saw the crowd move and heard the screams of onlookers as Lee positioned his gun. He swung his eyes to Owen in time to see a pistol clearly visible in his right hand.

  “You don’t have a chance, Owen. Stop now and drop your gun,” Pierce said as he continued his path toward the man, pushing his jacket aside to display the badge secured to his belt.

  Owen focused on the man at the podium, the object of everything he’d worked toward the last year. He’d seen his ex-partner standing near the back of the crowd, aware that Lee was searching for him. He’d heard Lee’s shouts and those of another man, ignoring both in his quest to rid the world of a man he believed had no place as his country’s leader. Owen no longer cared about his own life. He’d convinced himself that his actions were right, knowing he’d go down in history as a hero. Owen ignored the screams around him as he stopped, began to lift his gun, and aimed at the man on the stage.

  “For God’s sake, Owen, put the gun down,” Lee yelled once more and held his ground not twenty feet away.

  Pierce was to Owen’s right, his gun leveled and ready.

  Drew, Colin, Quinn, and Brodie started forward, moving in slow deliberation toward their target.

  Chief Curtis ordered his men to surround the president and move him into the safety of the hotel. The president resisted at first, wanting to face the man who’d threatened him. Curtis grabbed hold of the president’s arms as first one, then another shot rang out, chipping the columns around them, missing the president and his protectors by inches.

  Lee turned in the direction of the shots, both coming from behind and above him. He spun back around toward Owen as a shot ripped through his shoulder. He faltered, his eyes blurring as he stared at Owen Kendall, the man’s gun still pointing at Lee. His second shot never left the barrel.

  A split second later, Owen spun one direction then another as bullets tore into him. His body crumbled to the ground.

  Drew, Colin, Quinn, and Brodie continued forward, their guns still smoking.

  Pierce ran to Lee, kneeling to check his wound.

  “You need to find the other shooters,” Lee ground out as he began to lose consciousness. “I’ll be fine. Go, now.”

  Eva appeared next to Pierce, lifted Lee’s head, and cradled him in her lap while pressing a hand over his wound to help stop the bleeding. “Go. I’ve got him,” she said focusing her attention on Lee.

  Pierce focused his attention on the buildings across from the hotel as his cousins formed a perimeter around Lee. “We have to find who fired those other shots.”

  He pointed to a building on the left. “Colin and Quinn, check in there. Drew and Brodie come with me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chaz turned and crouched at the sound of shots from overhead. He looked up to see a man, gun in hand, standing at a window three floors up. Chaz raised his gun and fired twice before running into the building, taking the steps two at a time to reach the gunman before he escaped.

  A block away, Mollie moved into position behind the man she’d been following.

  “Drop the gun, Traxton.” Her voice was hard, uncompromising.

  Thomas Traxton turned toward her, gun in hand, an almost maniacal look in his eyes.

  “There are police everywhere and they’re looking for you. You’ll never get away.”

  “Oh, he just might.”

  The familiar female voice came from behind Mollie as hard metal pressed into her back.

  “I’d suggest you set down your weapon, Mrs. MacLaren. Or is it Agent Jamison?”

  Mollie stared at Traxton in front of her, his gun pointed at her chest. Behind her stood Georgiana Grayson, her gun at Mollie’s back. The situation was bleak, yet Mollie didn’t feel the fear she expected. They stood in the middle of a three block area thick with police and federal agents, and her guess was that most of them would be looking for those who’d shot at the president.

  She bent down, laid her gun on the ground, and turned slowly toward the woman behind her.

  “Where’s Virginia?” Mollie asked, wondering how Thomas’s wife fit into the conspiracy.

  Traxton kept his gun trained on Mollie, picked up her weapon, placed an arm around Georgiana, and pulled her tight to his side. “Virginia made a choice to pursue her own interests, elsewhere. I’m sorry to say it’s doubtful anyone will ever see my wife again.” His smile was evil, making Mollie’s skin crawl.

  “We need to leave, Thomas. The police are everywhere.” Georgiana flinched at the sound of shouting from the street.

  “You’re right, of course.” He waved his gun toward the stairs. “Agent Jamison, please follow me. I hope I don’t have to tell you to stay quiet. At this point, we have little to lose by killing you.”

  ******

  Chaz stopped on the top floor, listening to what sounded like furniture being dragged across the floor in a room down the hall. He started forward then turned at the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. He plastered himself against the wall and aimed his pistol.

  Moments later he lifted his gun as Colin and Quinn MacLaren joined him in the hall.

  “Down the hall, the last room,” Chaz whispered. “I think he may have barricaded himself inside.”

  “Who?” Quinn asked.

  “My guess is either Traxton or Hardy.”

  They moved to just outside the door and listened. Nothing. Chaz tried the knob. Locked.

  “Police. Open up.” Chaz pounded on the door, and waited.

  When there was no response, the three kicked in the door then ducked back into the hall as the air exploded. Colin and Quinn turned as one and aimed their guns into the room, waited, then moved inside. William Hardy’s body lay sprawled on the floor.

  ******

  Pierce, Drew, and Brodie entered the building from the back street, located the stairs, then stopped when voices sounded from above. They stepped back into the alley, hiding in two small alcoves several feet away, and waited.

  The door from the building to the alley creaked open as Traxton took a glance around and then looked over his shoulder at Mollie.

  “Do not say a word,” he warned before stepping outside while Georgiana nudged Mollie in the back to keep her moving as they exited the building.

  “Stop where you are Traxton,” Pierce hissed as the three MacLarens trained their guns
on Thomas and Georgiana.

  Traxton swung toward Pierce and fired, nicking the wall beside him. Pierce and Drew fired as one. The impact knocked Traxton backward and onto the ground. Brodie continued to aim his gun at Georgiana.

  Georgiana held her gun with both hands, pointing it at Mollie’s back, her body shaking violently as she tried to focus on the men in front of her.

  “Don’t do it, Georgiana. You can still get out of here alive.” Pierce’s voice was low, calm. Drew and Brodie’s weapons were aimed at the woman. They didn’t want to kill her, but would if it meant saving Mollie.

  Pierce held up his hand to ward off a group of police who came to a stop when they saw the scene in front of them.

  Georgiana’s eyes shifted up and down the alley, looking for any means of escape. There wasn’t one. For a moment, Pierce thought she would fire. Instead, she backed away from Mollie and dropped the gun, then slumped to the ground.

  He dashed to Mollie, turning her around and looking for injuries. Finding none, he pulled her into his arms.

  Drew kicked Georgiana’s gun away while Brodie hauled the woman up and pushed her against a wall.

  “Do not move,” he advised, his voice hard.

  “You’re all right?” Pierce asked Mollie.

  She didn’t answer. Instead, her head swiveled toward the woman Brodie guarded. Her eyes blazed with the fury radiating through her body. She took three quick steps forward and landed a punch so hard on Georgiana’s jaw that the woman’s eyes rolled back in her head and she fell to the ground unconscious.

  “I’m all right, now.” Mollie grimaced while rubbing her sore knuckles, then lifted her face to the others and smiled.

  ******

  The president wasted no time boarding an afternoon train, never having finished his speech or taking the tour planned in his honor. He headed east, his next destination unannounced.

  Georgiana Grayson was the lone participant in the assassination attempt in custody. She resisted interrogation attempts at first. It took a long while to obtain details of the murder plan to a point where Chief Curtis felt comfortable that she had told them all she knew.

  According to Mrs. Grayson, many prominent citizens across the country disliked the president’s policies and were building a large fund to remove him from office at the next election. These individuals were content gathering money and waiting, not seeing the imminent threat to the nation Cleveland’s agenda posed.

  Owen’s group believed the man was a supreme menace to the country and that change was required sooner than the next election. It was a small group who decided to take the matter of eliminating the president into their own hands.

  Owen Kendall had known of the president’s plans to ride the rail across country to gain support for his policies. The trip was to culminate in San Francisco.

  He pulled those he identified as the most radical into a circle of seven—Thomas and Virginia Traxton, Georgiana Grayson, William Hardy, Wang Tao, Owen, and Hardy’s brother, Harrison, who was the man Chaz heard with a deep, raspy voice at the small store in Chinatown.

  Over months of preparation, working together to sort through each detail, Owen felt comfortable moving forward. He’d tried to locate others to handle the actual assassination, traveling from one city to the next, speaking with those he knew had no qualms about carrying out plans such as his. Unfortunately, no one was willing to kill such a high-profile client as Owen described without three times the money the group had available. Most believed he was targeting a senator or member of the president’s staff. No one, except those in his circle, knew the objective was the president himself.

  Something Owen had not foreseen was the involvement of the Treasury Department’s Secret Service group. He believed he’d been too careful in the planning to alert those in the very department where he worked. Owen had been wrong. He got to work covering his tracks as much as possible, taking care of those he believed knew too much or were a threat to his plans. This included a banker in New York who’d overheard a damaging conversation. Georgiana believed the man’s name was Edward Franks.

  She confessed that she and Thomas Traxton had begun an affair within months of the Traxtons arrival in San Francisco. Her husband, Walter Grayson, had learned of the affair weeks before he died. Georgiana professed she was innocent in setting up the shipboard accident that killed her husband. It had all been Thomas’s doing.

  A week before the president’s visit, Virginia Traxton discovered Thomas and Georgiana’s involvement and threatened to expose the entire group as well as their plans. She’d disappeared the following day. Thomas told Georgiana he’d taken his wife’s threats seriously, hiring men he knew to be trustworthy, and the problem had been handled. She knew no other details.

  Wang Tao backed out the day before the president’s arrival, saying he hadn’t fully understood the plan involved murder. Although Tao was adamantly opposed to the law against Chinese immigration, he had no desire to jeopardize his family by an attempt to eliminate Cleveland.

  Harrison Hardy had been present at their last gathering the morning of Cleveland’s speech. He was to go into the building across the street with his brother, William, and provide backup to Owen, the same as she and Thomas. Georgiana was surprised to learn he wasn’t present with William when Chaz, Colin, and Quinn broke down the door.

  Georgiana had no idea what had happened to either Wang Tao or Harrison Hardy, guessing each was in hiding.

  She was surprised when Curtis asked if Jock Flannigan had any involvement in the murder attempt. Georgiana scoffed at the notion, saying the man was too honorable for his own good. She had gripped Curtis’s arm, however, imploring him not to tell Jock of what had transpired, saying she’d lose her ownership rights in the company if it were found she’d participated in anything illegal.

  Curtis laughed, telling her it was doubtful Flannigan would hear the news from the police. The Chronicle, San Francisco’s main newspaper, would be more than happy to provide him with details.

  ******

  It was late by the time all the formalities were behind them and the agents and MacLaren cousins were free to leave the police station.

  Lee’s wound wasn’t serious, although it hurt like hell. He ordered carriages to take everyone to the hotel for a meal and liquid sustenance, as Chaz termed it.

  A message from Noah awaited them at the front desk, congratulating the team on their success, and letting them know he’d expect a full report from each within the week. The agreed upon funds for the assignment would be in their accounts by the end of the month. New assignments would be made once he’d had a chance to review the current requests from Treasury, as well as some of the other departments who now seemed to count on his agents for most of their investigative work.

  It was a quiet meal. Everyone was exhausted, glad it had ended well. All were looking forward to moving on to new assignments, or in the case of Colin, Quinn, and Brodie, getting back home. Drew had a few more days remaining to complete his work for Louis Dunnigan before his trip home to Fire Mountain and Tess.

  Pierce had been unusually silent, not voicing any opinion about obtaining another case or his desire to continue as an agent. His mind was consumed with thoughts of Mollie. She hadn’t spoken much since they’d finished their meetings at the police station and had barely touched her meal. He had no idea if she still planned to return east to Boston or stay with Noah as an agent.

  Colin stood, followed by Quinn and Brodie, and addressed the others.

  “Thank you all for a very memorable trip to San Francisco. I can’t remember when we’ve been able to return home with such great stories.”

  “Let us know if any of you ever get tired of ranching. I’m sure we can find something for you to keep the stories flowing,” Lee quipped before shaking their hands and watching them walk outside.

  Drew and Pierce followed their cousins to a waiting carriage.

  “Plan a trip to Fire Mountain as soon as you can. I know the family will w
ant to meet everyone and learn of your experiences since arriving from Scotland.” Drew held out a hand, hoping they’d take him up on the offer to travel south.

  Pierce said his goodbyes, telling them to expect him in Settlers Valley at some point. He had an urge to see more of California and what his cousins had built over the years.

  Colin, Quinn, and Brodie boarded the carriage and nodded to Drew and Pierce. They’d be leaving for Settlers Valley in the morning.

  Pierce turned at the sound of voices behind him. Mollie emerged from the hotel followed by Lee, Eva, and Chaz. He waved for another carriage, waited until Mollie had boarded, then said his goodbyes to the other agents, not sure when, or if, he’d ever see them again.

  Their ride was short, perhaps fifteen minutes. Pierce escorted Mollie inside and up the stairs to her room before turning her to face him. He rested his hands on her shoulders, making no move to draw her closer. Pierce noted the sadness in her eyes. The sparkle he’d grown to count on, whether from anger or something else, had disappeared.

  His jaw shifted as he struggled with all the things he wanted to say.

  “Will you go back to Boston?”

  “I’m not certain.” Her quiet response gave him hope. “You?”

  “I’m going back to Fire Mountain. It’s home now. That’s where I want to build my life.”

  She nodded before letting her head fall forward to rest on his broad chest.

  “Come with me, Mollie,” he breathed in her ear. “I’ll make a good life for us.”

  He could feel her chest expand and contract on a ragged breath. She lifted her head, eyes locking with his, and took a step back.

  “Without love?”

  “Do you love me, Mollie?” Pierce asked. He needed to hear her say it even though he wasn’t certain of his own emotions.

  “I have feelings for you, Pierce,” she lied. Mollie knew she had more than mere feelings for him, she was in love with him. She needed Pierce to love her in return.