“Your mother is resting.” He rose and gathered her to him, holding her tightly, resting his chin on top of her head. “She’s an amazing woman.” He stepped back, took her hand, and led her to the sofa to sit. “She has a core of strength any man could envy.” He smiled. “I’ve seen the same in you—an unquenchable spirit. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”
Linnie didn’t know what to say. He said he loved something about her, but it wasn’t the same as saying he loved her—was it? Off-kilter, she decided the best course of action was no action at all. “The police were just as I expected,” she said, trying to control the quaver in her voice, “they were all kindly platitudes and promises that finding Freddie was a top priority, but I could feel the lie behind the concern.” She felt her shoulders droop and the last bit of bravado run from her body like water rolling down the hilly streets. “I’m sure some of the younger officers are sincere,” she said, tears welling in her eyes, “but the captain—he was on Tommy’s case—he oozed insincerity. It was all I could do to not scream at him that I knew … I knew about Tommy, and I knew he was complicit in his death.” She was unable to be strong any longer. A sob shook her frame. “I started screaming inside, and I can’t stop.”
• • •
Alec reached over, her pain ripping his heart apart. He slipped one arm behind her back and the other under her legs as he scooped her into his lap. She collapsed into his arms; her head nestled into the hollow of his shoulder as he tightened his arms around her. Leaning his head on hers, he felt the silent sobs rock her body. “Shhh, love, shhh. I’m here,” he whispered. “You don’t have to handle this on your own. I love your strength, but you don’t have to be strong now. I’ve got you, and I won’t let go. Let it out.” The sobs against his chest were louder as he reached up and stroked her hair. “Ah, little bird, I’m here, and we will find him. Vonn will pay.” He placed small kisses on her head and continued whispering comforting words. She leaned her head back, and he kissed her cheeks. He tasted the salty tears on her skin. Their eyes met; tears turned hers the color of a turbulent ocean. He laid his mouth gently over hers, offering solace. She responded, pressing harder, wrapping her arms around his neck. He slid one hand behind her head as he teased her lips open. Her tongue, tenuous as it darted in and out of his mouth, made him growl as desire hardened him. Reluctantly he broke the kiss. “I want you, I do,” he groaned against her lips. “But not like this. Not with fear and pain driving you.”
Linnie pulled back, her hands on his chest for balance. “Thank you,” she said. “You’ve been so much more than I could have ever dreamed. Your arms have become my harbor; in them the world seems so far away.”
“Whenever you need … or want, love.” He smiled. Sliding her from his lap back to the couch, he adjusted his trousers, easing the pressure as much as possible. “I must prepare for my trip to the Tenderloin later. Though,” he grinned, noticing her arched eyebrow directed at his lap, “I do believe I won’t have any trouble convincing one of the ‘ladies’ I’m ripe for companionship.”
She looked up, her brow dropped. “Just don’t forget,” her voice was low, “your statement about dregs getting close to what is yours goes both ways.” He sucked in a breath as she reached over and laid her hand on his erection. “You are mine, and I don’t share. Be careful.”
• • •
Alec stepped out of the hotel, and with the recommendation from a hotel porter, headed east toward the Tenderloin. He’d changed into less-stylish clothes so he appeared well heeled, but not so well off that he should be at the more exclusive parlors or high-end brothels rather than Vonn’s house. He learned from the Pinkerton agents about the hierarchy of San Francisco’s sex trade and knew Vonn’s whorehouse catered to those with enough money to stay out of the cribs of Morton Street, but not enough for the high-end houses. He carried enough money to impress, a small pistol tucked inconspicuously in an internal jacket pocket along with his sgian-dubh secured in his boot. He chose to walk rather than take a cab so he could assess the situation more easily. He went over the briefing from the Pinkertons again. They had warned him Vonn had informants everywhere; they were sure Linnie and her mother were being watched, and Vonn was well aware that Alec, Hawke, and Kara were involved. His venture tonight could turn bad very fast.
Alec watched as the sun blinked its last, slipping behind the buildings of this most unique city. Since arriving, Alec had been impressed by the ambition and vision of the people of San Francisco. There was such a blend of culture, more than he had seen in other port cities. The drive of the people to forge an identity all their own was palpable. He found it intriguing and exciting. Looking toward the hills to the east of the city, fog, tinged orange and red by the dying sun, crowned the hills like a barrister’s wig. Tendrils began sliding down the hillside; pale fingers brushing through the vegetation. A lover’s caress. Larger clouds undulated and rolled, skittering down to the water.
He quickened his step, knowing the fog could dance in lightly, covering the town in a soft blanket, diffusing the light and caressing everything with a dewy kiss, or roll in like a ship in a deep swell, erasing light and sound. I’ll need to get a cab for the return trip, he thought as he continued. Any last vestige of twilight was quelled as the fog curled through the city streets, greedily swallowing shadows. The gas street lamps became puddles of fuzzy golden light drawing people to wait for trolleys or cabs. Turning on O’Farrell, Alec felt more than saw the change. The buildings were less kept—chipped paint on doors, windows in need of cleaning. He looked down the street, noticing numerous saloon signs competing for attention. Music, muffled by the fog, still spilled through open doorways. Alec saw a notice on the side of a building, announcing the arrival of new ladies at one of the cribs. The women and their prices were listed like meals on a restaurant menu. Shaking his head, he continued on, amazed a city as progressive as this one seemed still allowed its citizenry to trade human flesh like cattle or corn. He was guilty of buying female companionship, and he was aware of places like these. Hell, he’d had companions in his youth that sought out the most degenerate of houses where enough coin could buy any number of depravities, but he had never participated. The thought sickened him. Continuing on, he saw his destination. The building stood at the end of the street. It appeared better maintained than its neighbors. The windows were bright, and the door was a glistening black, as if just painted. A doorman greeted him as he stepped inside. Alec was directed to the main parlor where young women wearing dressing robes circulated, laughing and flirting with the customers.
“Haven’t seen you here before.
Always nice to have new customers.” Alec took the outstretched hand and smiled. The woman before him was tall, wearing a dark blue dress that accentuated her hourglass figure. Her dark brown eyes watched him with a speculative look. “I’m Constance P. Jones. Welcome to my house, Mister …”
“Peavey.” Alec smiled, remembering the young Englishman he had met in White Oaks. The young drunk had introduced himself to everyone as “Lord Peavey” and been quick to tell how his family sent him money to stay out of England. “I’m John Peavey.” He thickened his accent. “Just arrived in port, lass, and lookin’ for some company.”
“Well, Mr. Peavey,” her smile was predatory, “you have come to the right place. My girls are the best in the city.” She looked around the room, then waved one of the girls over. A petite blonde sauntered over, her eyes traveling up and down Alec’s body. “This is Chastity Blue,” Mrs. Jones continued, “I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to provide companionship.” Eyes narrowed, she glared at the girl. “Be sure to give this gent whatever he wants.” She jingled the gold Alec handed her with one hand and waved them off with the other as she walked away.
The room the girl took him to was shabby, and the smell of sex permeated everything. He cast an eye to the bed—neatly made, but he doubted the sheets were clean. Fortunately, he had no plans to find out. Feeling a hand on his arm, he tur
ned to look at the girl next to him—and girl she was. He could see through the layers of face powder and rouge applied to make her appear more mature.
“How old are you?”
He saw a flash of uncertainty in her large, cornflower blue eyes. “How old do you want me to be? I can be as young as you need.” She took his hand and tried to lead him over to the bed. Her hand trembled in his.
“Stop.” He felt his anger rising as he watched her wince at his command.
“Please,” she whimpered, her earlier confidence wilting in a wave of fear. “Please, don’t hurt me. I’ll … I’ll do whatever you want.”
Disgust at the life this child was living rode him with a sharp spur. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured her. “And if you help me, I’ll help you leave here. Now,” he went over to a worn sofa across from the bed and sat down, “why don’t you start by telling me how old you are and how you ended up here.”
The girl stood uncertainly; confusion knotted her brow. He could tell she didn’t believe what he was saying. He tapped a finger to his chin, wondering how he could get her to trust him. She stayed near the bed, keeping distance between them as she watched him, waiting for him to reach for her. Fear of him was not as strong as her fear of Mrs. Jones. She stood and slipped the robe from her shoulders. She had on a worn pink silk corset and stockings. The garment pushed her young breasts up and was meant to incite passion. Alec could only feel anger and discomfort for the girl. Tension showed in every part of her body.
“Look, Chastity.” He kept his voice soft, hoping to reassure her. “I have no intention of having sex with you, or doing anything else with you other than talk.” Her eyes narrowed, distrust clear. She pulled the threadbare robe back on, shrinking against the bed once more. “I am serious. I want to talk to you; that’s all. And then, if you want, I will help you leave this place.”
“And do what?” she asked, her voice trembling. “You gonna take me to your whorehouse to work—or down to one of them cribs on Morton? Why should I trust you? You wouldn’t be the first to come in lookin’ all proper and promising me all sorts of things. Mrs. Jones warned all us girls against men like you, full of smiles and promises that you don’t keep.”
“I understand your reservations, Chastity; I do,” Alec continued, hoping she would listen and not run. “I just want to talk. I don’t run a house or a crib or anything like that. I am trying to find information, and I’m hoping you can help me.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a few gold coins. He saw her eyes widen as she looked at the coins and then at him. “I want to know who Mrs. Jones’s partner is and how they find girls like you to work here.” He stretched out his hand, offering the coins to her. “A little boy has been kidnapped, and I think Mrs. Jones’s partner is the one who took him. He’s only ten years old, and his mother and sister are frantic to find him.” He saw her face soften. “Do you have a younger brother?” He noticed a slight nod and knew he was getting through to her. “I’ll bet you worry about him too.”
“I do,” she whispered, her eyes unfocused as she lost herself in memories. “Jimmy was six when I left—he’s the reason I agreed to go with the men when they came to the mining camp. We was starvin’. Pa died up on his claim, and Ma did all she could, takin’ in washin’ to make ends meet, but the gold had played out, and there was less work and less food. We couldn’t even afford to leave.” She looked up, pain and longing tightening her eyes. “One day, these fancy men came into camp. They told Ma they could get me work in the city; honest work, mind you, working in a laundry, and they’d pay her enough for her and Jimmy to move out of the camps.” She looked down and twisted her skirt in her hands. “I was fourteen and told Ma I’d be all right.” Her eyes locked with his. “Well they got me here and took me to a warehouse down on the docks. There were other girls there; many, like me, had been told we were going to work in factories or something like that. And there were others. Some didn’t speak English, but the ones that did told us they had been stolen from their families; they’d been beaten and drugged. After a few days, the men came back, and Mrs. Jones and some other women were with them.” Tears began flowing down cheeks that had turned red. “They lined us up and … and they handled us like animals. The different women looked us over and picked the ones they wanted. That’s when they told us where we would be going. Some girls tried to run, but they were beaten till they fainted and were carried out. She paused, shoulders curved in defeat. “That’s how I ended up here two years ago. I tried to run, but Mrs. Jones, she’s got some mean men that do nothin’ but watch us girls and make us pay dearly if we try to leave.”
“I’m sorry.” Alec pulled his handkerchief and handed it to her. “I truly am. I meant what I said about helping you leave here, and if you would like, I could try to help you locate your mother and brother.” He saw a spark of hope light her eyes. “Can you tell me if you have ever heard Mrs. Jones mention her partner, or have you ever seen him here?”
She nodded as she dried her eyes. “Mr. Vonn. He comes here every few weeks. I heard him and Mrs. Jones talk about getting a group of new girls once.”
“Did they say anything about where they were keeping them?” Alec felt he might be close to the answer. “They might be keeping this boy in the same place. If you heard the name or location it could save his life.”
“It’s the Clary warehouse down by the Oriental dock; it’s where they kept me.” She started to hand him back the cloth, but he pressed it back in her hands. “Look,” she said, “I know you said you’d help me get out of here, but I don’t know how. We’re watched closely, and I heard the last guy that tried to help anyone was dragged from the house and beaten to death in the alley.” Alec couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Mr. Vonn was here that night,” she continued. “He ordered his men to make sure all us girls got the point.” She looked toward the door; sounds of other doors opened and closed up and down the hall. “So if’n you plan to save that boy, don’t worry about trying to save me.” She cocked her head; looked at the door again and then back to him. “We need to make it look like you did more than talk. Mrs. Jones won’t let you leave here if she thinks you’re some do-gooder out to save us ‘soiled doves.’” She unlaced her corset and mussed up her hair.
Alec took off his jacket, loosened his collar and tie, and unbuttoned his vest. Chastity came up to him and on tiptoes began kissing him, leaving smudges of her lip paint on his face. Alec smiled at her ingenuity and promised himself that once Freddie was safe, he would return and help this young woman get free of this life. Reaching up, she ran her fingers through his hair and whispered, “Thank you.” He pressed more gold pieces in her hand, telling her to hide them well before he walked over and opened the door. Looking out, he saw one of the thugs leaning against the wall near the staircase watching. Alec turned as Chastity stepped through the door after him. She had a seductive smile on her face as she reached up and caressed his cheek. “You be sure when you come back,” she made sure she was loud enough for the thug to hear, “you come see me. I don’t want to share you with any of the other girls.” She winked, and with a saucy flick of her robe returned to her room.
Alec cleared his throat, and as he walked toward the staircase, began straightening out his clothes. He looked the man in the eye as he passed him. “My compliments to Mrs. Jones.” He smiled. “I’ll have to come back before I ship out.” The man chewed on an unlit cigar, his eyes narrowed to slits as he watched Alec head down the stair. Heading out the front door, Alec heaved a sigh of relief, glad to be done and anxious to return to Linnie. He stopped at the corner to button his jacket.
The fog seemed thicker than when he had arrived. Looking up and down the street, hoping to flag down a cab, he felt a hand on his shoulder a second before he felt a blow to his head. Dazed, he knew he was being dragged into the alley next to the house, but was too disoriented to fight back. He was dropped onto the damp ground and struggled to clear his head. Two shapes appeared in the muted light. “L
ooks like this dandy tripped on his way home.” Harsh laughter cut through the fog. “Yep, Oscar, looks like he took quite the spill.” Alec lay still, listening and waiting. “Lost his wallet in the fall.” A large hand reached down and Alec made his move.
Grabbing the man, he pulled him off balance, tossing him across his body to the ground. Jumping to his feet, he looked at his attackers. Oscar, the one on the ground, was the same man he’d seen on the staircase inside. The other he didn’t recognize. “I prefer to keep my wallet, gentlemen.”
Oscar scrambled to his feet as the other man jumped, slamming Alec into the wall and hitting him in the face with a meaty fist. Alec swung, burying his fist into the man’s stomach, forcing him back. Looking back and forth at the two men, he knew he’d be lucky to get out with his life. The thug reached to his back and pulled a cudgel from his pants. Snarling, he ran at Alec, swinging his arm back. Taking advantage of the momentum, Alec lunged, bending low, catching the man at the waist and tossing him toward Oscar who was struggling to his feet. The two men tumbled backwards. Hearing a carriage coming down the street, Alec looked back. “I believe I’ll call it an evening. May we never meet again.” Smiling, he hurried to the cab as it pulled to a halt.
• • •
“Why did you go down there alone?” Linnie looked at the bruises on Alec’s cheek and the eye swelling shut. When he’d shown up at her house early that morning, she almost hadn’t recognized him. His clothes were torn and dirty. His face was a mass of bruises and blood. “You could have been killed! It’s not worth it. Finding out what happened to Tommy isn’t worth your life.” She wet her handkerchief with some water and dabbed at the blood drying on his split lip. He hissed in pain and grabbed her wrist.
The Heart You Need Page 11