by Kira Barcelo
“No? Okay, young lady. Have it your way.”
“Noooo!”
He didn’t make good on that threat to lift her skirt, though his hand was coming down even harder now. Closing her eyes, she bit down on her bottom lip, trying like crazy not to cry out. In that undignified position, bent over with her bottom up in the air, the world watching as Dan spanked her soundly, there was only one thing she could do to end that embarrassing—and painful—ordeal.
“Oh-oh-kay,” she conceded, each spank punctuating her words. “I—pruh—promise.”
As suddenly as it had started, the spanking stopped. “You’ll go see Jerry Barrett?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go see him.”
“All right. That’s a good girl.” McCallister didn’t release her immediately, instead leaning over to deliver a whispered warning, “And you’d better keep that promise. I’d better not hear from Jerry that left him waiting all morning.”
She hadn’t gone to jail for murder. Thank goodness for that. In essence, she’d gone to prison for her own naiveté. Or to put it more bluntly, for being downright stupid.
But if she’d ever felt like killing a man, it was now. He’d lied to her when he said he’d help her. He’d used her to go after the man she’d been with at the time. Then Dan had let them put her away like that. He’d let them cage her like an animal. She’d always thought that he hadn’t given a rat’s ass, either. That her losing a part of her young life in that terrible place had probably just been another notch on the detective’s belt.
“Oh, Detective, I said I’d go tomorrow,” she muttered. “So why don’t you be a good Joe for once in your life and let me go?”
“I am a good Joe, Sadie. I know it hasn’t always looked that way to you. Now…” He released his hold around her waist. “Behave yourself. Just remember: I’ve got my eye on you.”
“Your eye isn’t the part of you I’ll be feeling tomorrow,” she retorted, feeling stiff as she straightened up.
How dare he laugh! She hadn’t meant it to be funny. And his eyes weren’t the only ones she felt on her as she walked briskly, making a beeline for that front door. She passed by Miss Johnson, who stood rigid as a board with her hands clasped primly behind her back. Uncharacteristically, she bore a trace of a grin on her lips. Those nosey dames up at their windows were still gawking at her, even though the show was clearly over.
Sadie made it all the way up to her room and closed and locked the door behind herself. She wished she’d never have to step out of it again and face those awful women who lived there, but realistically, that wasn’t going to happen. She was infuriated with them, even with Linda for betraying her like that.
Flinging herself face down across the bed, she moaned softly as she reached back her hand to rub her throbbing bottom. That man had spanked her but good. She hadn’t been spanked in a long time. Never quite like that, either.
Not exactly the way she’d envisioned her first full day of freedom. And to think that she was saddled with a guardian she didn’t need or want, the very man who’d put her lover behind bars and subsequently had gotten her sent to jail as well. The detective who’d wronged her was also suffering with a guilty conscience. How else to explain why he’d appointed himself her protector? A guardian angel with a crooked halo, that’s what he was.
What a hell of an entrance back into society!
Chapter Two
“…Of course, Mr. Honeycutt, sir, I’ll have Mr. McCallister call you right away,” Ruby Thornburn was saying into the phone as Dan walked into the office. “Oh, as a matter of fact—”
Emphatically, the detective shook his head. His partner Martin—the Clark half of the Clark & McCallister Detective Agency—also shook his head, but to convey his disapproval. The middle-aged secretary, a seasoned pro, pulled off her line brightly, despite looking flustered.
“—eh, that is, let me make sure I have your number…” Like the good little actress she was, Ruby ran the tip of her pencil down her desk blotter and said, “Ah, yes, here it is…yes, sir, I will. Goodbye, Mr. Honeycutt.”
Martin Clark barely waited until she’d hung up the phone before reprimanding his partner. “You know, this poor girl wouldn’t have to go through the wringer like that if you’d been here to take that call.”
“Thanks for the compliment, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been a girl, Martin.” Smiling demurely, the secretary came to Dan’s defense. “He had to tend to a private matter. It’s been kinda slow lately, so…”
“Yes, we have been slow. That’s the whole point. More reason not to waste time on some pretty little jailbird. That is, unless she lands in hot water again. At which point we have no choice.”
“Oh, those days are over for Sadie. Anyway, I’m here now. Say, Ruby…” Dan pulled off his suit jacket and draped it over his arm. “That a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen?”
The woman stopped banging away at the keys on the black Underwood typewriter. She was a fine secretary, that Ruby Thorburn. She possessed all the qualities of a fine secretary—loyal, efficient and dependable—plus she had the patience of Job for putting up with the two detectives. And as anyone who’d dealt with them knew, Dan and Martin were equally rough around the edges.
Though between the two of them, Martin Clark was an open book. With Dan, there was more than met the eye. A fact that very few people in that town knew.
“No, but I’ll fix one for you in a jiffy if you’d like,” she offered.
“Well, I know you’re busy and I hate to ask, but I could really—”
“Say no more. I could use a cup, too.” Ruby rose from her seat and headed into the next room, which served as both a supply room and a kitchen for them.
Dan was rolling up his sleeves, a cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth, when Martin stepped up to him. His brow was furrowed with a deep scowl.
“Look, I know it’s none of my business, Dan,” he began, “but you do know you don’t owe that Francis girl anything, right? You’re not responsible for her throwing away her life in prison.”
Shrugging, Dan disagreed. “She’s right about me not protecting her. I promised her I would.”
“Fine, but c’mon. There are things we can’t control. And she’s a big girl, she’s not a kid. How do you know she was totally innocent? She knew that thug, O’Keefe, had robbed those bank. She was still hiding him.” Martin shook his head decisively. “That makes her an accessory. She deserved to go to jail.”
“She may have deserved it, but she didn’t belong there, Martin. And it still stands that she thinks I lied to her because I didn’t protect her.” He waved a hand in the air. “Sadie’s got nobody. Least I can do is make sure she has some help. That she’s safe.”
“Yeah? And you think she’ll be grateful to you for riding in on a white horse to rescue the poor little damsel in distress? Not her. That’s the kind of dame who takes advantage of you and leaves you a pauper.”
Dan chuckled. “Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Martin. For your information, she didn’t want a dime from me. She didn’t want anything from me. Just to get her to see a friend of mine about a job tomorrow, I had to use a little…uh, persuasion.”
His partner’s eyes twinkled with curiosity. “Must’ve been more than a little persuasion. That little jailbird is a tough cookie.”
“Yeah, she is. But she’s not a jailbird anymore, Martin. She’s a free woman now.” He wasn’t angry with his partner, but neither could he stand by idly without defending the young woman. “And things are going to be different for her from now on. I’m going to make sure I do whatever I can for her.”
“Hmmm.” Martin’s eyes narrowed. “You never stopped thinking about her, did you, Dan? That kid was gone for two years. You’re not in love with her, are you?”
“No.” Realizing he’d answered too abruptly, he coughed out a laugh. Ruby reentered the room, carrying two cups of piping hot coffee. “No, I’m not. Look, I know she’s from the other side of the track
s, but so am I. She’s not as bad as everybody thinks she is. And she doesn’t think she needs anybody, but she does.”
Pausing, he smiled his thanks as his secretary handed him one of the cups. Martin remarked, “Hey, everybody needs somebody. She sure doesn’t want to need you, though. And maybe you’re the one who needs her, huh?”
That was a little too close to the truth for comfort. That never failed to perplex Dan, how it seemed at times that Martin Clark could see right through him. Dames, with their intuition, that was one thing. But men weren’t supposed to be equipped with that particular talent.
Unless, like Martin and himself, they were private investigators. That came with the territory.
The fact was, Martin was right on both accounts. However noble his intentions, with the past they shared, Sadie Francis didn’t want his help or his protection. And he needed her nearly as much as he wanted her.
Dan stood at the window, looking down at the busy city sidewalk below. Wondering how Sadie was faring that day in Pineville, just a short ride from the city. His cigarette tasted stale—he really wanted to give up those damn things—but as always, Ruby’s coffee was excellent. As he set the cup back down onto its matching saucer, it clattered loudly. That was how much his hand was trembling.
And no wonder: There was a full moon that night. It was about that time again.
* * *
Mr. Barrett seemed like such a sweet and gentle man that Sadie couldn’t imagine what he’d done wrong in his life to deserve having been associated with the likes of that cad, Dan McCallister.
The job didn’t pay much but it would cover her expenses at the boarding house and get her on her feet. It was nothing very exciting, either, just working the counter at the gentleman’s drug store. What she rather liked was the location, right smack in the middle of town. The local paper’s offices were next door and there were nifty little boutiques to browse through during her lunch hour.
That was, assuming Mr. Barrett hired her. Which remained to be seen, considering her past.
“Give me one more minute, Miss Francis,” he called to her from the pharmacy section of the shop. “I’ll finish up with Mrs. Whiting and be right with you.”
“I’m in no hurry, sir,” she said.
Ain’t that the truth? Sadie thought, strolling around the store. No one had actually said anything to her that morning. She could thank her lucky stars for that. Had anyone teased her about McCallister bending her over and whooping her bottom in front of everybody, she would’ve had a good mind to slug the snippy witch who’d dared to embarrass her.
But would that have earned her another spanking from that thug who called himself a private eye? She dreaded the thought. Then again, McCallister had done his good deed for the day—given her some bucks through her friend, made arrangements for her at the boarding house and with Mr. Barrett. That had all been to appease his conscience, so he would more than likely just crawl back into the rathole he’d climbed out of.
Hopefully.
She wouldn’t mind working there at Barrett’s Drug Store. Not at all. It was a pleasant old place, with a book rack stocked with lots of those mystery novels that were only a few cents each. There was a big candy section and the shelves of cigarettes and other tobacco products right behind it. At the counter, a freckled soda jerk fixed sodas and malts and ice cream treats. Since she’d been there, there’d been a steady influx of customers coming in and out through the door.
Having a job again, too, would make her feel normal again. There had been nothing normal about being in jail. It had been a disruption in a life that maybe hadn’t been perfect, but it was better before they locked her away like an animal.
And she could thank McCallister for that.
She looked around that aisle in the store. Not seeing anyone, she gave her behind a tentative rub. It didn’t sting as much now, though she’d sat down very gingerly at the breakfast table that morning. A pillow would have made the hard-backed chair a lot more comfortable, but then those busybodies at Mrs. Johnson’s would have known she was still sore from that spanking McCallister had given her.
Bastard. There was no other word for him. Although…he was better-looking now than she remembered. More than that—he was pretty cute.
“Miss Francis? May I call you Sadie?”
She turned and smiled at Mr. Barrett. “Sure, you can!”
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Oh, I didn’t wait that long.”
“Still, I don’t like making a lady wait. And even less a friend of Dan McCallister’s.”
She couldn’t stop her eyebrow from arching in time. A friend of McCallister’s. The man had a strange way of dealing with his “friends”. Like reddening their butts.
“Ohhh, Dan’s just darlin’, isn’t he?” Sadie cooed.
The older gentleman chuckled and pushed his glasses back on his nose. “Well, he spoke well of you, too.”
“Really?” She recovered as best she could from the surprising remark. “He—uh, that was nice of him.”
“Dan’s a good man. He worked for me as a kid. Turned out to be a fine young man. But we’re here to talk about you, aren’t we?”
Sadie giggled shyly. “I—well, there’s not a lot to say about me, Mr. Barrett. Except I do need a job. And I’ll work hard for you.”
“I’m sure you’d do a good job, young lady. And Dan says you’re trustworthy. Can you start next week?”
Dan says you’re trustworthy. She blinked hard at that one. She didn’t know whether to be grateful or to wonder if he’d lied about her to that poor man.
“Next week? Why, sure.”
“Monday?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good! Then you’re hired. I’ll see you here next week.”
“Thanks a lot, Mr. Barrett! I’ll see you then.”
No sooner had she walked out of the pharmacy when she collided with a man walking fast on the sidewalk.
“Ohhh—sorry about that,” Sadie was quick to apologize.
“Ah, no, Miss, that was my fault.” The man gentlemanly removed his hat. “I have to be honest with you. I happened to see you go in there and I waited for you to come out. Remember me?”
It took her a moment, but her memory was sharp as crystal…especially when it came to people like Eddie Gage. It helped that he hadn’t changed much over the past couple of years. Thin as a beanpole, towering, with a farmer’s tan and a craggy face for a young man in his late thirties.
“Yeah, I remember you,” she said, smiling. “That’s right—that’s where you work, at The Pineville Tribune. On your way to another story?”
“No, no, grabbing some lunch. It’s good to see you again, Sadie. I heard you were in town.”
“You did? From who?”
The man chortled. “Honey, I’m a reporter. Nosey’s my middle name. I heard you’re in touch with my favorite P.I.”
Sadie flushed. “Yeah? It’s more like he’s in touch with me. What…uh…did you hear exactly?”
She prepared herself inwardly to be mortified, to hear him say, I heard he spanked you like a spoiled brat in front of everybody.
Instead, the reporter replied, “Oh, I didn’t hear much, but I know he’s in the background. Thought you’d already said good riddance to the likes of him.”
“Yeah, that makes two of us. But he’s…helping me.”
“Helping you? Ah…” Ed’s eyes sparkled. “Good ol’ Saint Dan!”
Sadie exchanged an impish smirk with him. It felt good having someone to commiserate with, and the Tribune’s reporter was probably the only person besides her who knew Detective Dan McCallister wasn’t the big hero he pretended to be.
“I always knew you were a good guy, Ed,” she said.
“And I always knew you were a good gal, Sadie. Listen, you’re at the Johnson Boarding House, aren’t you?”
“Yes. How’d you know that?”
Ed brushed past her question, saying, “That’s a little too dangerous
. Miss Johnson, I know she’s good friends with McCallister. Why don’t you come by my office at the Tribune next week? I’d like to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“What else? Dan McCallister.” Ed became serious and dropped his voice to a near-whisper. “You’re in danger. That man’s not what he appears to be. Just…be a good girl, honey. Come see me.”
* * *
It was happening tonight. Saturday night—not a worse time for it to happen. The place was mobbed. Though he knew it was there, Dan reached under his suit jacket and felt the handle of his revolver, secure in its holster.
“Thanks,” he told the bartender, tossing money onto the counter.
He then proceeded to take one sip of the whiskey on the rocks and left it on the counter in front of him. From that spot at the bar he could see everything happening on the stage and on the dance floor.
Couples danced as the redheaded singer in the green evening dress on the stage sang the Latin-spiced, “El Cumbanchero,” accompanied by the orchestra. Floyd Torrence was dancing, too. He was the man they called “Handsome Devil Floyd.”
Not that the name fit. Not in Dan’s opinion, at least. Torrence’s money, which he lavished on his wife and many mistresses, was probably what the women found appealing. Money that hadn’t been earned totally by the sweat of his brow, either. What Torrence owned he’d gotten through other means, some of which would be coming home to haunt him that night.
But it couldn’t happen there—not inside that nightclub. With all those innocent people, out on a Saturday night for a good time, dining and drinking and dancing.
And flirting. Like that girl with her back to him, surrounded by a trio of men who seemed completely enchanted by her. When she turned abruptly, Dan almost knocked over his drink in surprise.