by Taylor Lee
All four men were smoking cigars. Gabe, Gunnar and Eagle were drinking whisky; Chao was sipping his imported cognac.
Gabe puffed on his cigar and looked Chao in the eye.
“You want to talk about it, Chao? I’ll ask Gunnar and Eagle to leave if that would make it easier. But you know there isn’t anything I don’t tell these two.”
Chao gave him a sad smile. “No, my young friend. Your partners may stay. How much do you know, Gabe?”
Gabe grimaced. “I don’t know the details, Chao. I can only guess at the story. Guess at what would drive a man to do what Peter has done, and plans to do.”
Chao nodded, “It comes down to what it usually does, Gabe. Money, pride and a woman.”
“Your wife, Ana’s mother?”
Chao sighed. “Sarah and George Harcourt, Peter’s father, were engaged to be married. It was an arranged betrothal. Her family believed in making connections and Harcourt was one of the wealthiest financiers in the country at the time. Sarah was young, innocent and headstrong. Remind you of anyone, Gabe? We don’t have time for all the details. Suffice it to say that I must have done something right in my life because six weeks after I met Sarah at a party in Washington, we eloped. Her family never forgave her, or me. Most repulsive to them all was that Sarah married a ‘Chink.’ That is how George referred to me until the day he died. The way that Penelope does to this day.
“Harcourt fell apart. At first he fought it. Bought the spread next to mine. Every piece of property I bought, he bought more. Every business I was in, he entered. Unfortunately for him, he was no better at economic affairs than he was at love. He turned to drink and gambling. When he died six years ago he left a mountain of debt for Peter. Peter was a strange lad. Even as a child he was pretentious. His mother dressed him like he dresses today. Such airs. When I heard through my connections that his place was under receivership, I was shocked. That was not the impression he gave. Then I heard through some of my less savory associates that he was entering circles he should have avoided. Circles that include men like me, Gabe, and you three. Peter was way over his head. I felt I owed him something. I knew at some level he blamed me for his father’s dissolute behavior. Now I know that my offers and the money I paid for his properties just rubbed salt in some old and apparently very deep wounds.”
When Chao finished speaking, Gabe was thoughtful. “Clem told me that Peter was sniffing after Ana. Was that your impression?”
A pained smile crossed Chao face. “If that was his ploy, once again he was over his head. You know how dismissive Ana can be. She disliked him and never hid her feelings. In an interesting way, I don’t think he liked her either. She was too wild, too outspoken.”
“Too much like her mother.” Gabe finished for him.
A dawn of understanding lit Chao’s eyes. “Yes, that’s exactly right, Gabe. She was too much like her mother. In fact I think Peter spent much more time with Penelope when he was here than with Ana. They seemed more compatible.”
~~~
After Chao fell asleep, Eagle and Gabe joined Gunnar in Chao’s private office. Quitin had lit a fire in the fireplace and the three partners sat before it, quietly smoking and sipping on whisky. The pall of the day hung heavy over them. They had worked through every piece of evidence Gunnar had found. All the records supported Peter’s extraordinarily precarious financial state as well as his hatred for Chao.
When the three of them were alone, Gunnar expanded on his findings.
“Didn’t want to upset Chao any more than he was. But it seems that our chameleon friend was a hell of a lot deeper in the mob then Chao knew. According to my snitches he even had a moniker. They called him ‘The Ghost’ because no one ever saw him, just the results of his work. Seems he had a penchant for torture… and rape. One of his favorite ways to torment a man was to make him watch while his men raped the poor bastard’s wife, or daughters — or both.”
When Gunnar stopped and looked over at him with a pained expresssion, Gabe frowned, irritated. “Christ, Gunnar. Don’t stop. Do you think I don’t already know what a crazy fuck he is?”
Gunnar nodded and continued with a sigh. “My inside guys said they all knew him as a loner. Couldn’t figure out his game. Tony said it was like he killed for sport. The big boys mostly ignored him. Assumed he was just one more sick fuck with too much money on his hands. Hell, they probably admired him. Then a couple of years ago, he did the unpardonable. He lost a fortune gambling and couldn’t pay. The mobs have been tightening the screws. My other moles said he thought they’d put a price on his head.”
~~~
They hadn’t spoken for some time, all three exhausted by the day’s events, when Gabe spoke almost to himself.
“I could have taken her. She wanted me, too.”
At Gunnar and Eagle’s startled looks, Gabe shook his head, unable to hide his despair.
He dragged on his cigarette and ran his hand across his jaw. Leaning forward, he rested his hands on his knees and appealed to them. “Christ, man, all the women I’ve fucked and I chose not to take her?”
He shook his head and took a large swallow of the liquor that he noted offhand no longer burned. He was too numb, but not from the whisky.
“Do you know why I didn’t? Do You?” Neither Gunnar nor Eagle answered his tortured question.
“Because I wanted her to have the best. Someone who could love her the way she deserved to be loved. Someone worthy of her. Not like me. You know me. You know who I am. What I am.”
Gabe’s voice was barely audible. “And now, now instead of someone taking her lovingly, carefully, treasuring every part of her beautiful, luscious body… they plan to rape her. To complete some sadistic animal’s idea of revenge. For nothing she did. For what happened before she was born. Do you know what they will do to her? How they will hurt her, shame her?”
Gunnar held up his hand, “Gabe, don’t. Don’t do this. We’re going to find her. Stop them.”
Gabe nodded grimly. “Yeah. We are. But what if we’re too late?”
He was quiet for a long moment then he mused more to himself — than his two friends.
“I could have. I should have. But I didn’t. I thought it was the best thing I could do for her. Christ, How fucked up can anyone get? And… and now instead of—” he stopped and rubbed his hand over his eyes. When he looked up at his companions he didn’t try to rub away the tears stinging his eyelids.
His voice was husky, thick with unshed tears.
“Damn, I could have made love to her in a way that no one else could.”
Eagle smiled at him. “Like a man who desperately loves her?”
Gabe gave him a rueful grin. “Yeah. Like that.”
~~~
Gabe sat by Kai’s bed, keeping watch, when he saw the first signs of dawn. Morning was his favorite time of the day. It always amazed him how quickly the pink, then gold of the dawn chased away the dark. When he was a boy, he believed that the way the sun wiped aside the darkness of the night, each new day would end the nightmare of the day before. As he got older he marveled that he ever could have thought the nightmares would end.
Staring at her brother fighting for his life, he allowed himself to focus on Ana. He thought with a grimace that he had prayed more in the last twenty four hours than he had since he was twelve years old. For Davy, the youngest of his Avengers, for Kai, who if he could win this battle would be a fine man and a great fighter. And finally for Ana. Gazing at the rising sun, he sent her a message. Ana, where ever you are, Princess, if you can see the sun, feel its warmth, know that I am coming for you. Soon, baby, soon.
He knew he couldn’t last much longer without going crazy. An hour ago their men in Los Angeles confirmed that the passenger bill was what the station master had assured them. Ana was not on board. They’d cleared the Sacramento train at midnight which meant she had to have been aboard the San Francisco train. Unless, and he refused to consider the possibility, she wasn’t on a train at all. That Peter�
��s men were smarter than he was and they had her in some god forsaken place that he might never find. Until it was too late.
Gabe looked up to see Eagle in the doorway, with one of their men. Patrick was a big Irishman with big appetites. Pat could out-drink ten of them, and women lined up long into the night to satisfy his seemingly insatiable carnal appetites. Gabe’s face must have showed his hope, because Eagle shook his head in response.
“No word yet on Ana, Gabe. But Pat has some news that puts one more puzzle piece in place.”
Pat’s expression reflected the pain written on all their faces. Davy was the first of the Avengers to be killed in action. Since he was the youngest, he was something of a mascot to the rest.
The three of them went to Chao’s office for privacy. Gabe motioned to Pat to take one of the comfortable chairs. None of the men helped themselves to the hearty breakfast dishes the maids had put on the sideboard.
Eagle caught Gabe’s eye. “Gabe, Pat has some interesting news about Penelope.”
Gabe frowned. “Christ, I forgot all about her. Where the hell has she been? I haven’t seen her since the dance.” At a brief attempt at long-forgotten humor, Gabe bowed to Eagle and said, “Mr. Eagle.”
Eagle’s smile was as strained as his felt.
“I’ll cut right to it, Gabe,” Pat said. “I been rompin’ with Brigit, that cheerful red-haired lass you might’ve seen around. She’s a lusty one. Almost too much for the likes of me.”
Gabe’s eyes widened at the confession, thinking he never thought he’d hear those words out of Pat’s mouth.
“She ain’t been able to come to me since the big party. Brigit’s the personal maid to that spiteful old woman who runs this place. Seems Brigit’s the only one who can keep the old biddy under control. The battle-axe ain’t been out of her quarters since the dance. According to Brigit, the amount she been drinkin’ would put a pub-full of Irishmen to shame.”
Gabe frowned, “What does that—”
Pat cut him off. “I know what you’re thinkin’, Gabe. What’s that got to do with one damn thing we’re dealin’ with?”
Gabe sighed. “Sorry, Pat, go on.”
“Brigit said the reason Penelope has been drinking steadily since the party is becuz she and Peter Harcourt had a fallin’ out. According to Brigit, the old woman thought she and Peter was an item. I know, crazy as it seems. Brigit heard them arguing and even though Miss Penelope is an evil person, Brigit said she didn’t deserve the cruel things he said. That she was an ugly old bitch. How could she ever think he would go away with her? That if for some reason their plan didn’t work and Chao lived, that he never wanted to see her wrinkled up face again in his life.”
“Jesus.” Gabe whistled. “Penelope? Damn, Eagle. It… she was right under our nose the whole time. I thought she was a vicious woman, but, hell, in cahoots with a man half her age? Peter and Penelope? Holy Christ.”
Eagle nodded. “I told Brigit to get her sobered up. Pat here is going to stay here and interrogate her. I think we may have found our note-writer, Gabe.”
Gabe choked back his rage. He turned to Pat. “Don’t hurt her, but don’t let her out of your sight. When you’ve wrung every bit of truth out of her, call the Sheriff. I want her locked up in the county jail, until we can get her arraigned in San Francisco.”
~~~
“Speaking of which,” Gunnar said from the doorway, his face contorted with too many emotions for Gabe to sort out. “I just got a telegram from Maude. She invited us to one of Dominic’s special events. Seems as though his premium members are in for a real treat. Says this one will top the ranch they auctioned off. There’s gonna be a special game tonight, an auction of sorts.”
Gabe fought back the gorge welling up in his throat. It took every ounce of will to keep from vomiting. “And the prize?”
Gunnar held his gaze, his expression was a mix of joy and horror.
“A one-time-only, honest to God virgin. Dominic swears to her authenticity.”
Chapter 33
Ana squeezed her eyes shut, shocked at the pain the sunlight drove through her skull. It took her several moments to digest her surroundings and remember that it wasn’t the sunlight, it was the drugs. Every time she regained consciousness, began to grasp where she was, they put that awful rag over her mouth. Vomiting hadn’t helped. Nothing did. After a while she came to welcome the chloroform. It blotted out the memories. The sight of Davy’s blood and even worse, Kai’s scream. The sickening sweet smell filled her senses. It messed up her ability to think, to feel. In one of her few coherent moments, she thought about the anguish her father must be feeling. He would never survive losing both Kai and her. She never knew what people meant when they said their heart ached. Now she did.
Only when she was going under or coming out of her drugged state did she feel happy. That was when she heard Gabe. Heard him say “I’ll always come for you Ana, no matter where you are.” But the moments were fleeting quickly followed by the reality and she sunk to a deeper and deeper despair.
She looked around the room realizing she was in a bed. A comfortable one. The room was opulent in a garish way. It was red everywhere. The lamps. The heavy embossed gold and scarlet wall coverings. The coverlet on her bed, even the pillow slips were red satin. A red velvet chaise was flanked by two ornate side chairs once again covered in a heavy fabric flocked with red and black swirls.
Given the excesses of the room, she shouldn’t have been surprised to see the large copper-haired woman standing in the doorway. She shook her head to clear it assuming the woman would be gone when she opened her eyes, the way all the visions of the last days had disappeared.
“I’m glad to see you are awake, Ana,” the woman said. “I told them if they gave you any more of that poison you would be useless.”
Ana grasped the coverlet up under her chin. A small foolish attempt to protect herself.
The woman shook her head with a frown. “I’d tell you everything is going to be all right, Ana. But you and I both know that is a lie. The best we can hope for, honey, is that they get here in time and that the whole damned bunch of you don’t get killed in the process.”
Ana didn’t know what the woman was talking about. She struggled to ask her. But, her mouth was filled with cotton. Dry fuzzy cotton. It was in her brain too.
After several attempts to speak, she gave up, surprised at the tears stinging her eyes. She didn’t think she had moisture anywhere in her body.
The woman moved forward and poured her a glass of water from the pitcher by the bed.
“Here, honey, drink this. Knowing those cruel sons of bitches, you ain’t had a drop to drink in two days.”
Ana swallowed the water gratefully. But after three large swallows, her stomach rebelled. She gagged, then vomited, spewing the water over the coverlet and on the woman’s fancy green satin dress.
She whispered, “I… I’m so sorry. Your dress.”
“Don’t worry, sugar, I got so damn many dresses, I don’t have wardrobes big enough to hold them all.”
Relieved that she could speak, Ana asked, “Who are you?”
The woman huffed out a dry laugh. “Honey, I stopped wondering that years ago. But people call me Maude, among other things,” she added with a saucy wink. “And, sugar, I’m the closest thing to a friend you have right now. I hope to hell by the end of the night, you’ll still think of me as a friend.”
At the knock on the door, Maude yelled out. “C’mon in. We haven’t got all day.”
Ana looked in wonder at the lovely blond woman in the doorway. Like Maude, she wore a fancy satin dress, but hers was midnight blue, a stunning accent to her bright blue eyes. Ana would have admired her further but her eyes caught on the garment she was carrying. To her shock, she realized it was the red dress she had worn the day she met Gabe. The red dress with the slit she’d cut up the front. In her other hand, the lovely woman held Ana’s shoes, the four-inch red satin shoes that Gabe had loved.
“Where, where did you get my clothes?” Ana asked in a shocked whisper.
“Seems like the fucker who’s organizing tonight’s event wanted you in the dress. My understanding is that your aunt was very obliging.”
Maude eyed the dress and grinned. The smile made her look ten years younger and not nearly so hard. “Damn, honey. No wonder Gabe fell for you. That body in this dress with that face? Hell, now I don’t feel so jealous. How could he resist?”
Ana shoved down the sick feeling roiling in her stomach. She was afraid she might vomit again. Her voice was soft, shaky. “You know Gabe?”
“Honey, I know that heartbreaker and those rascally partners of his in ways you never knew existed. But, let’s put that aside. Just so you know, no matter how good a friend he is, if I let anything happen to you before he gets here, neither you nor I will live to tell about it.”
Maude held out her hand, motioning Ana to get out of bed. “C’mon, honey. Let’s get you cleaned up and looking pretty.” She grimaced. “Wish it wasn’t so, sugar, but you got a big night ahead of you.”
~~~
Gabe slipped in silently, a puff of air the only whisper of a sound from the balcony door. Dominic was at his desk, a scant three feet away. Gabe’s hand was at his hip close to the gun in his belt. In his other hand he held his favorite blade. The one he’d removed from the throats of more assholes than he could remember.
“You got here sooner than I expected, Gabriel.” Without turning around, Dominic gestured to the chair at the side of his desk. “Please, sit down. Be my guest.”
Rounding the desk, Gabe saw the bottle of Bushmills and two glasses on the corner of Dominic’s desk. Gabe put his blade on the desk next to the glasses and sunk down in the overstuffed chair.
“Little early to be drinking isn’t it, Dominic? But, then given the day ahead of you, a good hard drunk may be just what you need,” Gabe said with a grin. Only the steel
in his eyes betrayed his fury.
Dominic poured the amber liquid in each glass and pushed one over to Gabe. He picked up the other, raised it in a toast, and took a healthy swallow, his only sign of strain. That and the slight sheen of sweat on his lip partially masked by his neatly trimmed mustache.