Well Kept Secrets (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 4)

by Liza O'Connor

  ***

  Tubs led Mr. Hidick to the rebuilt Dragon’s Cloud. This was their third attempt to buy fresh young boys, but oddly no one was selling tonight.

  “Sorry, we’re out,” the proprietor declared and tried to close the door.

  Mr. Hidick pushed his foot into the door, preventing its closure. “What do you mean, you’re out. How can you be out of boys?”

  The guy glared at Tubs towering behind the man. “We just are. Look, you’ve got a bad rep. Boys sold to you end up in the morgue.”

  “I buy around. They can’t pin it on you. Now let me see what you have!”

  “I don’t have any. The lot I had intended to sell you got taken.” Again, his eyes flashed at Tubs. “Try my competitors. Maybe they have some. Mr. Tubs knows them all.”

  Leaving the building, Mr. Hidick huffed. “I am not happy, Mr. Tubs.”

  “No, sir. I imagine not. How about I take you someplace for a new experience? The boys seem a bust for the night.”

  “I suppose anything will be better than this.”

  ***

  Xavier ensured Vic had returned to her room safely then went in search of Tubs. He was furious the First Minister had placed a sufficient bounty on Mr. Hidicks head that his death and Tubs would be guaranteed. Or would have been had Stone not coerced Tubs into protecting the man.

  Knowing Tubs could probably use help, Xavier visited the places he expected Hidicks to visit. He found three clubs where the man had attempted to buy boys, but they had all declared their stalls empty.

  So where were they now?

  His worry increased as the night wore on. He’s spotted several known assassins searching the crowded slave dens, but no Tubs and no Mr. Hidicks.

  An hour before dawn, he settled in the dark shadows of the shipping office. The nearby dock held the ship waiting to return the royal abomination to his own country. If Tubs managed to keep the bastard alive through the night then this would be the assassin’s last chance to kill him.

  Sure enough, a half-hour after he arrived, German Joe showed up with his rifle and slid beneath the porch of the ticket office.

  Xavier walked over and knocked on the wood right above where the man’s head should be. “Joe, consider yourself dead and go home now.”

  “Since when do you protect perverts?” the voice of Joe echoed from beneath the wood.

  Damn, he’d found Xavier’s Achilles heel right off. “This is my shot, Joe. I was here first, so you need to go home.”

  “What the hell do you need a hundred pounds for?”

  Xavier sighed. “If it’s the money you want, we’ll split it. Now go home, or I shoot the porch. How could I possibly know you’re lying beneath it?”

  Joe cursed and crawled his way out. “I’ll be by to get my money in the morning.”

  “Make it the afternoon. It’s already morning.”

  “Right.” Joe stalked off without another word—which was odd. The man didn’t normally like losing. Xavier stepped back in the dark and studied the environment. Joe had to be working with someone else.

  He was still searching when he heard a man’s voice near the warehouses on the other side. “Hands behind your back!”

  He watched at Captain Meyers cuffed Silas Hammer and led him off.

  “Evening, Mr. Thorn,” a voice spoke behind him. “Sure is a busy dock for so early in the morning.”

  Xavier cringed at having been caught unaware by Scotland Yard. He didn’t turn around. “Sergeant Dickens,” he stated, hoping he got the voice right.

  The man chuckled. “And here I thought I’d done surprised you.”

  “Only in your assistance to keep this place assassin free. I rather expected to be doing this on my own.”

  “Well, your man kept Mr. Hidicks nicely contained and alive all night long, so Inspector Stone felt we could at least assure no last minute surprises.”

  “Is it just you and Captain Meyers?”

  “It is. How’d you get German Joe to leave so quietly?”

  “Not sure he has. Mind taking a peek atop that building.” Xavier pointed to a flattop warehouse that worried him.

  “I’d be glad to.”

  Five minutes later, he heard Sergeant Dicken’s voice ordering someone to put their hands behind their back.

  Xavier still didn’t relax until Mr. Hidicks was helped to his ship. All the way, the drunken fool declared it was the best trip ever. Once the ship set sail, Meyers patted Tubs on his back. “Damn impressive job.”

  Tubs grunted in disgust. “I gotta get back home and explain to Mr. Thorn where I’ve been.”

  Xavier stepped out of the dark. “Mr. Thorn knows all about it. And to prevent them pulling this stunt again, next year I’ll send you out of the country before that abomination arrives.”

  Chapter 11

  Jacko arrived at Vic’s door at sunrise. When he knocked on her door, he got a surly response. “I have a gun and I will use it.”

  Resisting a chuckle, he responded, “That’s good to know. In this dump you certainly need a gun and an attitude.”

  The door two down opened, and Jacko pulled his gun. Upon sight of a very dirty, intense Ben, he returned the gun to his shoulder harness and knocked again. “Open up Jane, we’ve got to talk.”

  She opened the door and let him in, locking it behind him. “Sit over there!” Her forefinger jabbed towards the single chair in the ice-cold room.

  “Nice dump,” he muttered. “You buy all this yourself?”

  “This was where Pete and Maggie lived, so stop calling it a dump.”

  The mention of Pete reminded him why he had come to London. “How is the boy?”

  She cursed as she discovered the stack of wood had frozen together during the night.

  “Let me,” he offered and drove his heel into the pile, sending wood flying about the room.

  Grumbling beneath her breath, she went about picking up the scattered logs and slinging them at the open, metal door of the stove.

  He gripped her arms. “Stop, I’ll take care of the fire. You do something else while you tell me how Pete’s doing.

  “I don’t know! He was devastated and angry over his mother’s death and besotted with my sister when I left him with Gregory, but I have to solve Maggie’s murder before I can check on him. You seem to have nothing to do, other than to molest young women on the streets. Why don’t you go see how he’s doing?”

  Jacko appreciated Vic’s propensity to raise the ugly truth that needed airing. “About that kiss—“

  Her hand swatted in his direction, as if he were a giant, annoying fly. “I don’t want to talk about that. It should have never happened and if you ever do that again, I will stab you with my comb.”

  Her threat made him chuckle. The delicate comb nestled in the fake hair sitting on the oatmeal can looked as dangerous as a feather.

  She glared at him. “I’m serious. What were you thinking?”

  He held his hands up in surrender. “I was just playing the part Xavier gave me.”

  She stormed towards him in fury. He held his ground, which meant she was soon inches away from his face, her feminine scent tantalizing his nose.

  “Xavier told you to kiss me?”

  He breathed in and he was once again overwhelmed with the desire to kiss her. She smelled just like Alice. Finally, he knew what caused the attraction. “You’re pregnant.”

  She stepped back as if slapped. “What? No! And stop changing the topic.”

  “I’m not. I just realized why the kiss was so…”

  “So what?” she growled.

  “More than it should have been.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Why?”

  “Because pregnant women give off a smell men find tantalizing.”

  Vic stamped her foot. “I’m not having a baby!”

  He eyed her ample breasts. Those had to be new. No way in hell she’d been hiding mountains under her young man’s clothes all these years.

  “You’re definitely
pregnant.”

  Panic entered her eyes. “Why are you certain I’m pregnant and not just getting fat?”

  “You smell like Alice does. That’s why I kissed you when you opened your mouth to me.”

  “I did not—” She stopped and bit her bottom lip. After a deep breath in, she asked, “What other evidence do you have?”

  He placed a hand softly on her belly, which she instantly pushed away. “Swollen belly, plump breasts. Bet they’re sore too.”

  “That’s where people put on weight first,” she grumbled.

  “When was the last time you had your curse?”

  She looked away.

  “Can’t remember?”

  “It’s not a sure sign.”

  He rolled his eyes. “How can a clever sleuth like you be so damn clueless about your own body?”

  Her eyes narrowed in anger before she shoved him hard in the chest, almost sending him into the stove.

  He was about to yell at her for almost causing him serious injury and possibly setting off a fire that would kill thousands of people, but he could smell her fear and silenced his scold.

  Finally, he understood. Vic hadn’t noticed her pregnancy because the idea of being forced into a female role for the remainder of her life terrified her. So why the hell did Xavier send her into the worst part of town dressed as a defenseless woman? This mission would only worsen her fears. He could think of only one reason.

  “Xavier doesn’t know, does he?”

  “No! How could he? I didn’t even know until you jumped me in the dark.”

  Normally, he’d call her on such shoddy logic, but he let it slide right now.

  She flashed a surly glare his way as she slammed pots about. “Nor are you to tell him. I’m on a mission, and I am very close to finding out why Mr. Schnell had Officer Conrad kill Maggie.”

  “You know the killers? Why the hell are you still here?”

  “I have no proof. I need to find the reason. I’m certain it has something to do with the massive quantity of chloroform and laudanum they go through, but Meyers says there’s been no rash of kidnappings.”

  He filled the stove with wood and pulled his chair closer to it so he could concentrate on her words rather than the frigid cold.

  “What other facts do you have?”

  She glared at him. “Why? So you can solve this before me?”

  The comment would have earned her a harsh reminder this wasn’t a contest; that they were searching for Maggie’s murderer, but Jacko knew from experience pregnant women were prone to bouts of seemingly inexplicable emotions. “I just want to help finish the mission. You are stuck in the store all day. I can move about.”

  The tension in her face eased. “Help accepted, if your intention is to help and not take over while I get sent home to be locked in a closet on the off-chance you might be right about this.” She brushed at her bowed stomach as if it was some ugly stain on her skirt.

  “I’m certain once you talk to Xavier about that…” He pointed to her stomach. “…the two of you can find a better solution than stuffing you in a closet. So let’s solve this case so we can both return to our loved ones.”

  “How is Alice?” she asked.

  “Pregnant with our second child.”

  “Is she still involved in agriculture studies, or has that fallen to the wayside?”

  “She’s more involved than ever. The papers she’s published have resulted in fellow scientists dropping by every month to engage her in projects of their own. I believe her estate possesses the healthiest, most productive farms in all of England.”

  “You believe? Have you not taken charge of them now that she’s a mother with better things to do?” Anger and resentment radiated from her clipped words.

  “I would not change the woman I love for the world. She runs the estate just as she did before we married. It is me whom you should pity. Besides being her loving companion and admirer of her many talents, a doting father, and the occasional free laborer to the farmers, I have no purpose…there. My skill sets aren’t needed in the country.”

  Why the hell had he just told her that? He hadn’t shared that truth with anyone.

  “Well, they’re needed here,” she replied as she poured two bowls of oatmeal and offered him one.

  “Thanks,” he said, and certainly not for the lumpy bland, barely cooked oatmeal. He thanked her for pulling the truth out of him. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to have a job he was good at.

  “That’s why you kissed me,” she said while ravaging the bowl of oatmeal. “You’re good at pretending a part, and any lover who would go to the trouble to track me down in this hell hole would expect a reward for his troubles.”

  “Speaking of which. Has Schnell asked anything about your past life?”

  “Yes.”

  “So he believes we haven’t seen each other for a year?”

  Her brow furrowed as she nodded. “Do you think he can smell pregnant women, or is that your special talent?”

  Jacko smiled at her question. “I do have a keen nose, but let’s be prepared in case he does as well.”

  “So you dropped in five months ago? And stayed for a week.” She ran her hand through her short hair. “Why’d you leave?”

  “Alice wrote and told me she was pregnant again. I returned to the country at once.”

  Vic nodded and sighed heavily. “That should cover matters.”

  Her sadness disturbed him. “Don’t let your character take over, Vic.”

  With a deep breath, she focused in on him. “Schnell has a parlor fit for royalty, and I believe royalty or someone he sees as royalty comes on occasion. They have to enter through the back alley. I would really like to know who visits. Then we can watch them and perhaps determine what they are up to.”

  Jacko relaxed. That was more like Vic’s bossy self.

  “I’ll get right on it.” He set aside his bowl of oatmeal, uneaten. Vic eyed the bowl then grabbed it and devoured the contents like a starving wolf.

  He made a mental note to buy Vic better food. Alice believed eating fresh fruits and vegetables was paramount for a baby’s successful start in life. And while she had plenty growing in her conservatory, he’d need to go to the better part of town and locate shops receiving shipments from warmer climates.

  He walked ‘Jane’ to the apothecary shop. When he tried to kiss her, she turned her head at the last moment and all his lips touched was her cheek. He chucked her chin and smiled at her. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

  Her chin lifted a bit higher as if he’d paid her a grand compliment.

  ***

  Vic turned and headed to the shop door. To her surprise, Mr. Schnell stood on the other side, his face flushed red, his hands fisted.

  She paused at the door, wondering if it was safe to enter. She reached up to pull the comb from her hair and realized not only was the comb missing, but she’d forgotten her hair.

  Her look of horror and steps backwards sent Schnell into motion. He opened the door and pulled her inside.

  “I’ve forgotten my hair…I have to go back.”

  His grip held firm, as his free hand stroked her silky blonde hair. “I like this better.”

  “Please let go of me,” she mewed like a pathetic creature. God, she hated this roll. Jacko was right. She was letting it consume her. She was not Jane.

  To her amazement, he released her. “So you got yourself a new beau?” he challenged.

  “What? No…that’s Jack. He found me. He still loves me.”

  Her words made the man’s face turn a deeper red. “And leaving you high and dry is how he shows his love?”

  “No, that was a misunderstanding. His check to the landlord had gone astray.”

  “You believe that?” His voice tinged with frustration and rage.

  “Yes. Why else would he spend so much time searching for me?”

  Schnell shook his head and stormed off to his parlor.

  She sat down at the coun
ter and contemplated her future. Clearly, she would not be able to keep a baby. There was no room in their lives for a child.

  She chewed her thumbnail like a ravenous beast. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Xavier giving up a little human he could train to obey him from day one.

  A faint smile came to her lips as she pictured Xavier trying to reason with a two-month-old baby. The attempt would probably end with him dousing the child with ink.

  Maybe they could give it to Claire.

  Never!

  Claire would turn it into a frilly useless creature—even if it were a boy. She would also use Vic as the person the child should avoid becoming. Nor would Xavier ever allow his child to be raised by Claire…Gregory perhaps, but not her impossible sister.

  Maybe Alice would like a third child since they evidently don’t impede her ability to study agriculture. But poor Jacko. He was the one in a rowboat without an oar. All his many excellent skills were useless in the country.

  She was glad he’d returned. He could be just what they needed to break open this case.

  ***

  Schnell was fuming over Jane’s stupidity when someone knocked on the storage door. He walked over and opened it a crack, then let Conrad enter.

  “Looks bad that your worker has to sell her hair to make ends meet.”

  Schnell grunted in annoyance. “Since Maggie’s death, nobody shops here, which leads me to conclude the whole damn neighborhood knows what you did.”

  “Is that why you wanted to see me? Nobody saw me and nobody is talking. Scotland Yard’s got nothing.” He turned to leave, but Schnell grabbed his arm.

  “Hold on. There’s a guy sniffing about my worker. I want to know everything about him and his wife.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Jack…don’t know the last name. Wife’s name is Alice.”

  “What does he look like?”

  “Tall, black curly hair, in his early thirties. Well-dressed but it don’t sit well on him. I think his past is more humble.”

  Conrad burst into laughter.

  “What’s so damn funny?” Schnell demanded.

  “Because Jacko’s past is far more humble than that fine suit suggest. He started life as a gypsy, became a pirate, then gave up the sea and became a top-notch thief. Last year, out of the blue, he married a society lady and disappeared to the countryside.”