DELIBERATE JUSTICE: The American Way

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DELIBERATE JUSTICE: The American Way Page 30

by Thomas Holladay


  "Who's asking?"

  "I have read in your Sunday Times, he is planning a return to boxing." The peacock stared at the back of Tommy's swollen hand, the red scar from the ball where he'd accidentally shot himself. He looked at the boxing posters around Tommy's bar.

  Tommy said, "These two gents with you are above his weight. I can set you up with John Drury. He was heavyweight champ for awhile, might give your boys a tumble."

  "We do not wish for a tumble, Mr. Chandler."

  Tommy smiled and reached under the bar to grip his pistol.

  "I am Colonel, the Count Vladimir Schardakava-Preslova. We wish for information concerning Major, the Count Mikhail Diebitsch-Zabalkansky. I have read that you are familiar with him." He looked on the wall above the bar, at the sword and sash the other count had never picked up.

  MIKHAIL REACHED THE grove of giant Sequoias late in the day. Most of the recent snow had melted. Shafts of sunlight pierced through low-hanging, fern-covered limbs, a glorious slice of nature.

  He dismounted, unpacked Biscuit, removed Jasmine's saddle, and strung rope for his tent.

  This majestic grove filled him with awe over this cathedral built by God. Overwhelmed, he dropped to his knees. Flashes of memory drew images of all the times he'd been close to death.

  Got must have some purpose for me.

  "Thank you, God. Thank you. Whatever happens in my life, I will serve thee." A powerful force rushed over him, a sudden realization of purpose. He would always seek justice. He must always stand up for the right.

  He looked forward to this.

  Chapter Thirty One

  Two big men stood under a new gas streetlamp across the narrow street from Molly's White Chapel Saloon. They'd been watching her boardinghouse every night for the past week; the same two who'd come into the Palace with the Russian prince.

  "What do they want?"

  Raul rotated his head, stretching his neck. "I go ask.” He started for the door.

  "No. Wait. They know we can see them and they don't care."

  Raul rejoined her at the window.

  Where is that wicked, precious man?

  Bless God. Don't let him be dead.

  She pushed that thought into the shadows.

  Raul said, "I been watching them."

  Molly smiled, always feeling safer with Raul around.

  "Don't you worry. They come in here, Raul knows what to do. Don't you worry about Mr. Mike, either. He can care for himself. He'll be back soon enough. You'll see." Raul knew how she worried for that wicked man.

  "With them two out there, I want you down here tonight. There's a fog coming in."

  Raul nodded, loyal and true.

  A noise in back of the house turned them both around. Somebody was coming into the kitchen. She stopped breathing, lifted her skirt, and ran in front of Raul.

  And there he stood, clean-shaved and smiling, so handsome, he was. The wicked man smelled like a barber shop from all the way across the room.

  His mink coat and cap sparkled, wet with fog. He set the rolled canvas bundle on the floor and stepped closer.

  She crossed her arms like a shield, suddenly annoyed by his grinning face. "Well, and look what the cat dragged in."

  Raul stepped around Molly and picked up that wicked man's bundle. "We been watching for the taxi. Where you come from?"

  "I have a horse, now. I stabled her at Gregson's Livery and walked down the alley." He shook Raul's hand and smiled, not at all happy to see Molly—the beautiful, wicked man.

  Raul pulled Michael across the parlor to the window. "Those two been watching the house for a week. They're the ones came into the Palace that night?" Dense fog had all but swallowed them, only a yellow blur from the streetlight, now.

  "Yes." Michael pulled a gun from a holster at the front of his belt, checked it, and let his arm hang with the weight of it. "I will go speak with them."

  "Why would you be doing that? If they want to see somebody, let them come and knock at the door like gentlemen."

  Raul said, "We got a better chance in here, Mr. Mike."

  The sweet, wicked man looked at her with not a speck of fear. "You two stay inside. It is me they want." He walked to the front door and went out.

  Molly and Raul leaned into the bay window, able to watch him trot down the front steps and stride across the wood planks of the wharf. The fog billowed and took him in. His shadowy silhouette joined those two larger shadows under the yellow glow. All three moved from under the light, and dark fog swallowed them.

  Molly said softly to herself, "I had no chance to tell him."

  The front door slammed and Molly spun. Raul had gone.

  Outside, Raul ran into dark fog and crossed under the streetlight. A few moments later, he passed back under the light, walked up the front steps and came inside. "Sorry, Miss Molly. They already gone. They must have a taxi to wait around the corner." He'd heard her say it. He wanted to know. "Tell him what, Miss Molly?"

  MIKHAIL FOLLOWED ONE of the grand duke's guards through the lobby of the St. Francis Hotel and up the main staircase. The other guard followed close behind. There was only the desk clerk to see them this time of night. They escorted him around the mezzanine floor and down a short hallway. One of the guards knocked softly and opened the door.

  His colonel, the Count Vladimir Schardakava-Preslova, knelt before a large fireplace in a spacious suite, shifting logs with a poker. He stood, looked at Mikhail, and set the poker in a rack near the fire. He laced his hands behind his back and nodded to his guards.

  The guards left and closed the door.

  "Thank you for coming." He motioned to one of two chairs near the fire. They sat facing each other. "There is a warrant for the arrest of Major, the Count Mikhail Diebitsch-Zabalkansy. You can never return to Russia. I would advise you to not use this name and title in the future."

  The colonel's professional manner had reverted to that under which Mikhail had proudly served for years. "For me, there was never a sense that you are a deserter. You were always a good officer, one of my best. The grand duke was an arrogant ass. He left you no choice but to do what you did. It was under his demand that the emperor issued the warrant. The czar had no choice but to sign it. He must have peace with his brother. However, now that the grand duke is dead, his warrant can never be revoked, except by orders from the czar himself."

  "My colonel, what you have told me I already know or might have assumed. Why am I here?"

  "Of course." The colonel leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees, thinking what to say. He flinched away from the past and took a different path. "Would you like a drink? We have vodka from Russia."

  "Thank you, no, my colonel. It is late. I am tired."

  "Of course. You have been traveling on some business for the state court. I read about this appointment in your Sunday Times."

  "The Evening Bulletin is a more reliable source for news."

  The colonel smiled, making a mental note. "They call you a paladin of the American west. Did you know this?"

  "No." Mikhail shook his head, desperate not to laugh. How ridiculous to be compared with the twelve noble knights of Charlemagne, the lawgivers of ancient Europe.

  "It seems you have found a place here."

  "I have been most fortunate, my colonel. So, why am I here?" He fanned at their surroundings.

  The colonel stiffened and looked into the fire. "I served in the Crimean War under your father. I was a young lieutenant." He looked at Mikhail. "I was his political attaché. After the defeat of the British and Turks, at the reception ball, I introduced him to Anna Pavlovna. She now sits with King William the Second, king of all the Netherlands. It is a great secret known by only a few that she bore an illegitimate son. She was only seventeen at the time, a very beautiful woman. The czar, the grand duke, and the duchess all knew of this secret. I, your father, the royal family, and the baron, your uncle, were the only living people who knew this secret." He stared at Mikhail, waiting for some kind
of response.

  Mikhail stared back, blank. "I do not understand."

  "My boy, I could not arrest you even if I wanted to, which I do not. You are a Romanov. With this warrant, I could shoot and kill you, but I could not arrest you. Only the grand duke or the czar himself could do this."

  "What?"

  "My boy, your mother, Anna Pavlovna, queen of all the Netherlands, stayed in your father's estate in Sevastopol for nearly a year, until a suitable wet nurse could be found. You were two months old when she left. She made your father and myself swear to never speak of it. Now, with all that has happened, I felt I must tell you. You are one of many unwanted bastards of the Romanovs."

  "Am I free to visit the Netherlands?" A bizarre question. Why would he want to do such a thing?

  The colonel smiled and relaxed, recognizing Mikhail's quandary. "Da, this would be ridiculous."

  "I will have a vodka."

  The colonel stood, turned to a side table, poured two tall vodkas, and handed one to Mikhail.

  The colonel returned to his chair and leaned toward Mikhail. "I do not think the three of us will return to Russia. The czar will no doubt hold us responsible for the grand duke's death. Hopefully, he might believe we are lost at sea." He smiled, leaned back, and sipped vodka. "If we were to remain here, what is there for us to do?"

  "You have money?"

  "The grand duke always traveled well."

  "I am forming an investor group. I have good connections at the mining exchange."

  RAUL AND MOLLY SIPPED tea in the darkened dining room. Neither could sleep, anyway, waiting for that wicked man. Would he walk back in, bold as you please, like earlier tonight; or would he come in bloody and half dead, like when she first took him in?

  The wicked, lovely man . . .

  Bless Jesus.

  Would he return at all?

  The front door opened and closed, but neither Molly nor Raul could move, not daring to look through the doorway into the parlor.

  "Ah, good." Michael strolled in bold as you please, like nothing at all had happened. He nodded and smiled at Raul, but sat near Molly, glassy-eyed and smelling of alcohol.

  She fanned at the stench. There was no food in the man's stomach.

  "My colonel insisted I take a drink. Russians never stop at one, especially if the vodka comes from Mother Russia." His manner of speaking had not been affected by this Russian drink. Her Matthew had stumbled across his tongue whenever he drank.

  He looked at Raul and something passed between them. She knew not what.

  Raul nodded, stood, and turned to Molly. "Tell him." Raul turned up the stair.

  "Never you mind." Molly watched Raul disappear upstairs, sorry she'd told him. Carrying Michael's baby would show, soon enough. She'd not pressure the dear, wicked man. "So, what was that all about out there? Those two have been lurking about for a week."

  "My dear, how much money have we saved?"

  "Not so much anymore. You took a pot full when you rushed off to your Chinese lass, you wicked man. Why?"

  "I will work at the Palace, like always. I will be exercising at the Olympic Club, like always. However, I will be going out from time to time, whenever the governor calls on me to do so. And, by the way, I have been reimbursed for all expenses by the state. I bring back more than I left with." The sly, wicked man smiled like a leprechaun.

  "You need my money to go riding off whenever you please?"

  "No. Sorry." He felt his cups after all. "We will join with a growing coalition of investors." He'd excited himself. The brightness had returned to his eyes, the handsome rascal.

  "I've been looking into silver near a place called Virginia City, but my colonel is interested in the railroad. They met a man named Ben Holladay in New York. He's looking for investors to build an intercontinental railroad. This would connect New York with San Francisco. People can travel from coast to coast in mere days. This railroad has already reached a place called St. Louis. This man, Ben Holladay, already owns the Overland Stage Company and the Wells Fargo Stage Line. I like this investment very much. We will diversify our resources into any such investments that show strong potential."

  "And, I'd suppose, you want me to jump into this risky scheme with all of my money."

  "Mrs. O'Brian, I was hoping we would join this coalition together."

  "Some of the money is yours. I won't deny that."

  "Mrs. O'Brian, Molly, I can think of no woman I want more to mother my children. Will you marry me?"

  "Bless Jesus! How did you know I'm pregnant? I barely know it myself."

  From the stupid, glassy-eyed look on the dear man's face, he knew nothing of it at all.

  The End

  If you've enjoyed this ride, you might also enjoy these.

  Pursuit, sequel to Deliberate Justice, is coming soon.

  If you've enjoyed this ride, you might also enjoy these.

  A FREE gift just for you.

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  Pursuit, sequel to Deliberate Justice, is coming soon.

  TREASURE

  Also try TREASURE: Temple of the Crystal Skull for the thrill ride of your life. Here's some of what Diane Donovan from Midwest Book Review thinks about this novel:

  Think Clive Cussler combined with Indiana Jones for an idea of the atmosphere and adventure that Treasure promises to its readers. Then add a dose of espionage-style thriller components as the characters interact and Michael discovers that his beloved Katrina is threatened on more than one level.

  The fast pace of the adventure, combined with the myriad of special forces operating against one another and the backdrop of supernatural influences, makes for a story that is compelling and hard to put down.

  If it's a supernatural adventure story in the style of Indiana Jones that is desired, Treasure provides just the ticket for a gripping journey filled with twists and turns, whether it be over the ownership of a dangerous treasure or matters of the heart.

  Thomas Holladay excels in descriptions that are gripping and action-packed.

  Available at your favorite eBook store. Just click the link.

  UBL: https://books2read.com/u/bprXKk

  I AM SURE YOU WILL also love Meadowlarks.

  . . . Carolyn and her eight-year-old son Jason unwittingly step into a maelstrom of horror partially brought about by their unwillingness to allow a long-standing ritual to continue. As family relationships, heritage, neighbors, and deadly forces intersect, evil becomes apparent in not only an unleashed supernatural beast, but in the hearts of men. Rural roots, supernatural horror, Native rituals, and family relationships blend seamlessly to build a nicely-paced drama that comes full circle for elderly Native John Crow, whose new neighbors have now become part of this sacred valley and its long-standing ritual practices, changing their lives forever. Meadowlarks is especially recommended for fans of Tony Hillerman-style intrigue who seek a vifgorous dose of the supernatural added into a mix of mystery and interpersonal struggle. Diane Donovan, Midwest Book Review

  All Carolyn Potter wanted was a safe haven in which to raise her son, Jason, not to find a night stalker lurking in the forest surrounding their new mountain home. Following the unsolved murder of her husband and a violent attack on her son, Carolyn Potter learns she has inherited a cattle ranch located in a remote valley high in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. She eagerly leaps at the opportunity to escape urban violence, move out of her oppressive mother's home and get away from her hungry eyed, lip licking employer, Tom Kirby. Kirby, buried under gambling debts, is destroying Kirby Publications, a company built by his deceased father. Learning of Carolyn's inheritance compels him to win her favor in order to marry into her newfound wealth but Carolyn chooses Shangri-la, her dead husband's family ranch. Carolyn and Jason love their new home but soon learn of a local ritual being practiced on their land where a bull calf is brutally slaughtered with each cyc
le of the full moon. Seeking to end this gruesome practice, Carolyn saves the young calf and unleashes a monstrous creature, not realizing this creature is the protector of Shangri-la. After the creature attempts to break into their home, Carolyn calls on Tom Kirby for help. Kirby zooms to the rescue to confront the beast, rescue the girl and inherit her wealth, with which he intends to regain his prowess as a winning gambler. After her complete failure to end the slaughter of both bull calves and her neighbors, Carolyn must now decide whether to move back to civilization, stay and try to defeat her new threat or accept a bloody ritual that keeps the beast at bay.

  I loved this book! Intimate, rich, fascinating characters climbed into my life and took over as I greedily devoured every bit of action and all the chills . . . A must read! I am already hungry for more. Catt Dahman, best selling author of When We Were 8 and Alice and Friends.

  Available wherever eBooks are sold. Just click the link.

  UBL: https://books2read.com/u/bPXY0R

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  About the Author

  Thomas Holladay studied screenwriting at the American Film Institute. He has completed four novels, Treasure, Meadowlarks, Deliberate Justice and Pursuit, and more than a dozen feature length screenplays. Many of his original ideas and movie moments have appeared in major motion pictures such as The Village, Red Riding Hood, End of the Earth, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, and others, and on television’s L.A. Firefighter.

  Thomas’s life has been filled with exciting adventures all over this planet. These include, but are not limited to, varsity football in high school, varsity water polo in college, U.S. Marine Corps, lifeguard on Miami Beach, professional firefighter, published architect, building contractor, sailing the Caribbean, mountain climbing, scuba diving, motor cycling, horseback riding, acting on stage, in film, and on television, international travel, guitar, folk singer, art, fashion model, teacher and so much more. These experiences and those souls he has met along the way form the foundation for his story telling. He does extensive research in all genres prior to story and character development.

 

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