11th Hour Rose

by Melissa Lynne Blue

  Lilly sighed. “I wish I knew. But what you’ve told me today sheds some light. Thank you for that. Thank you very much.”

  11th Hour Rose

  Fourteen

  David stood on the train station platform as a sleek black engine chugged into the station. His eyes flicked across the train yard, searching for Marcus Brady who should have met him there near thirty minutes ago. Jason Donovan, and former New York City Mayor, Carl Potter, were due on the two o’clock train. The men had booked the earliest possible passage to bring every shred of potential evidence from Jessica Potter’s murder near eight years ago.

  “Langston!” A voice called from his left, the voice nearly lost as the massive engine groaned to a halt, brakes squealing.

  Davy turned to find Marcus jogging toward him. His gaze instantly honed in on a few red drops splattered across Brady’s shirt. “What the hell happened to you?”

  Marcus glanced down at the stains on his shirt. “Bloody nose.”

  Davy seriously doubted that. He’d seen a great deal of blood in his life and the drops on Brady’s shirt looked like splatter, not drips.

  “I wish I could say I pissed off the husband of a beautiful woman, but the truth is I ran into a door.”

  Davy didn’t reply. He still didn’t trust a word out of Brady’s mouth. The reporter had become quite popular for his daily articles regarding the Charleston Serial Killer. Davy clenched a fist. If he saw one more newspaper with the words Murderer Strikes Again splashed across the front headline, he’d drive that fist into Brady’s pompous mouth.

  Grinding the dour thoughts down, Davy turned his attention to the parade of travelers scattering onto the loading platform. A man of about thirty stepped off the train and swept a woman—presumably his wife—into a warm embrace. A vision of Lilly meeting him with passion and excitement flashed through Davy’s mind.

  “Donovan!” Marcus called, waving to a man with a thatch of thick dark hair and a black traveling suit.

  The other man quickly raised a hand in acknowledgement. He strode across the loading dock followed by a middle-aged man near as tall as David, trim of build and wearing a pale gray suit. “Brady, it’s been a long time.”

  “That it has.” The men clasped hands warmly. Donovan gestured to the gentleman standing behind him. “May I introduce Carl Potter?”

  Within moments the introductions had been made.

  “So you’re Brigadier General David Langston?” Carl Potter shrewdly assessed David’s form.

  “Not for some time now.” Davy hadn’t been recognized by his wartime military rank in years. He preferred it that way.

  “Alabama, 1864,” Potter said curtly. “You had my boys holed up for over a week. Hell of a fight.”

  Davy simply nodded. “I recall.” He offered his right hand. “I am just glad we find ourselves on the same side of this cause.”

  The former mayor—and apparently former union soldier—took David’s proffered hand with a steady gaze. “When can we get started? I want to see the son of a bitch that killed my daughter at the end of a noose.”

  * * *

  Shocked, Lilly stared through the parlor window as Davy’s athletic, godlike figure strode through the white gate and up the path toward her front door. One hundred different emotions tumbled through her—anger, surprise, panic! She had not seen or spoken to him since that day on the swing… the day he’d withdrawn his offer of marriage.

  Her heart twisted painfully as his cool blue gaze fixed on the window. She let the curtain drop and flattened her back against the wall.

  Now what should she do?

  She still hadn’t forgiven him the offense, and in truth had never expected him to grace her front door ever again. She’d expected him to slink west, head held low, and tail tucked securely between his legs.

  Turning to peek back through the window she noted that he was not alone but flanked by Marcus Brady and two other gentlemen she didn’t recognize.

  A knock sounded at the door and she groaned aloud, wishing she could crawl beneath the rug and never see the light of day again. Steeling her nerves she pasted a smile on her face and answered the door. Instantly her gaze collided with David’s.

  By the grace of God she maintained the false smile. “Good afternoon, Marshal Langston. How can I help you?”

  “Miss Lilly,” he replied, voice painfully indifferent, eyes cold. “I would like you to meet Jason Donovan, a reporter for the New York Times and a friend of Marcus Brady.”

  “Mr. Donovan.” She nodded to the younger of the men, noting he rather looked like Marcus with his tall wiry frame and dark wavy hair. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  The man flashed a grin that was positively rakish and clasped her fingertips. “Ah, Miss Lilly, I can assure you the pleasure is all mine.” His dark eyes locked with hers as he leaned over her hand to drop a light kiss on her knuckles.

  A wobbly smile touched her lips, and she withdrew. Beside her David stiffened.

  “And this is Carl Potter.”

  “Mr. Potter.” She smiled as this gentleman merely nodded in response to her greeting.

  “His daughter Jessica was murdered in New York City about eight years ago by a man fitting the description of our killer.”

  Personal distress all but forgotten her eyes flew to the older man. “I am so sorry for your loss, Mr. Potter. Do come inside. I will fix some coffee.”

  Lilly quickly ushered the gentlemen into the parlor, and then rushed to the kitchen. Once there she rested both palms on the table and sucked in a ragged breath, steadying herself. From down the narrow hall Davy’s deep voice rumbled, resonating inside her. His presence in her home overwhelmed her. She didn’t know what to do about it. He’d claimed to love her and then spooked at the thought of sharing his life with her. Part of her truly empathized with the loss he’d experienced and his fear of losing her as well, but wasn’t that the coward’s way out? To never take a chance or give into love?

  Lilly had loved and lost, but she was also strong enough to take the risk again.

  Deep in thought, she took a few moments to prepare the refreshments, utilizing the time to take her emotions firmly in hand. When she passed back into the parlor with a pot of fresh coffee and a platter of biscuits, she was the picture of composure.

  After serving the drinks Lilly seated herself on a wooden rocker directly across from David. “Forgive me, gentlemen, I was not aware that you’d be coming to take part in the investigation.”

  Davy’s stony blue eyes flicked briefly to hers. “You were recovering from your attack when we learned about Jessica Potter. We believe she may have been the first victim of our serial killer, and I wanted you to hear what Mr. Potter has to say.”

  Lilly shivered, inadvertently tugging at the sleeve covering her bruised wrist. “I see.”

  Davy shifted his attention back to Carl Potter. “Is there anyone you can think of who may have had a romantic interest in your daughter?”

  “Oh, there were plenty of young bucks interested in my Jess, but I only became concerned a few days before she died. I learned that she’d been secretly corresponding with a man named Bram Cusday for several months.”

  Bram. Davy and Lilly’s eyes locked. It seemed the Charleston murders were in fact linked to Jessica Potter’s murder after all.

  Mr. Potter cleared his throat, taking a quick sip of lemonade. “Naturally her mother and I sought to put a stop to the, er, relationship, but Jessica wouldn’t listen, said that this Bram loved her. Right about the time I was beginning to fear she’d run away with him, she was killed.”

  “Do you have any idea how she met Bram or who else may have known him?” Marcus asked.

  “None.” Carl shook his head. “I suspected he was responsible for the murder from the start, but he was like a ghost. None of Jessica’s friends had ever met him. I didn’t pay close enough attention before she died… The war was imminent… I never imagined…”

  “We understand, Mr. Potter.” Lilly m
oved to sit beside him, keenly understanding that the man sitting before her could have been her own father.

  “Thank you, Miss Hudson. I sincerely hope we will have the opportunity to catch this monster before he can harm anyone again.”

  * * *

  Lilly moved easily about the parlor, smiling sweetly, and talking animatedly with the other men. It was enough to split Davy in two. He felt an utter ass after the way he’d treated her the other day.

  Her lovely face flipped to him, a slight smile tugging the corners of her lips. Those iridescent blue eyes rested gently on him, filled with empathy and compassion. Not for the first time, he acutely sensed she understood him better than he knew himself. Davy gulped. By damn that woman had a big heart. She seemed to have no concern for herself. Mere days after a life threatening attack, she sat in the parlor relaying aspects of it to perfect strangers, and welcoming them into her home with open arms.

  Was he a fool to toss her away?

  Every fiber of his being screamed to take her in his arms and make her his own for eternity, and yet the deep seated fear of losing her paralyzed him.

  The interview ended and Davy could not escape her presence fast enough. He needed to think, but he couldn’t do so when she was near.

  Marcus approached him. “I’ll take Carl and Jason to the hotel, and then we’ll catch up with you tomorrow, Marshal.”

  David nodded curtly and clasped each man’s outstretched hand as they ambled through the door. He followed, holding his breath as he jogged down the steps.

  “Davy?” Lilly’s voice pulled him back from the walk.

  Involuntarily he stiffened. He knew better than to turn and look at her, knew that everything about her from the sparkle in her eyes to the blush of her cheeks was nothing more than another twist on the vice around his heart. But when it came down to it he wasn’t a man strong enough not to look. He glanced back, concern instantly eclipsing any selfish need to escape her presence. “Lilly, what is it?”

  She stood on the porch, holding a sheet of paper in trembling hands. The color drained from her face. “Wh-where did this come from?”

  He ran back up the steps, snatching the paper from her hands.

  I haven’t seen you in the blue dress yet.

  —Forever your patient admirer,

  Bram

  Pure red tinged Davy’s vision. That murdering bastard had been at her front door. “When did this come?”

  She crossed her arms. “I don’t know. I just found it lying on the porch. I’ve been inside all day. It could have come at any time.”

  “When did your father leave?”

  “Early this morning.”

  His attention shifted to the uniformed guard. “Has the guard left at all today?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  Davy shot down the walk, shoving the handwritten page into the Yankee’s chest. “Did you see this?”

  The young man gulped nervously, gaze flicking from the paper to Davy. “Uh, no, sir.”

  “No? How could you not have seen a man walk up to the Hudson’s door and deposit a note?”

  “There have been all kind of visitors, Marshal. Women bringing food and the preacher for starters.”

  “Have you checked any of the guests? For the love of Christ, man, the Charleston serial killer walked right through that gate on your watch and you didn’t even notice.”

  “Marshal Langston, I’m sorry, sir, but I didn’t see anyone leave that note.”

  “Get the hell out of here. You’re relieved of this duty.”

  The guard turned pleadingly to Lilly standing on the porch. “Please, Marshal, give me another chance. If Major Bradley finds out I failed anoth—”

  “The fact you’re a piss poor soldier is not my problem.” Davy would have words with Major Bradley later. The commander had scaled back Lilly’s protection detail the day before and look what had happened.

  The young man hesitated again. “Deputy Whitfield told me not to move before he got back on account of someone needs to guard Miss Lilly.”

  “When was Whitfield here?”

  “Last night and early this morning,” the soldier replied.

  Davy divested the information, not entirely certain why it struck a nerve. Perhaps because Lilly’s initial attack had happened on Whitfield’s watch. “I will guard Miss Lilly.” David’s glare turned lethal. “Leave, now.”

  * * *

  Davy stormed back up the walk with all the wrath of an avenging angel. Lilly’s heart warmed and threatened to melt. His dark, tortured expression fixed on her, raw emotion brimmed in his gaze, and in that second the world fell away. For a moment it didn’t matter that they couldn’t be together or that he’d rejected her. All that mattered was that he loved her and she him. Whatever came next he would protect her now. Without a word he stepped through the door and slid his strong arms around her, pulling her against his chest.

  Lilly dissolved into him succumbing to the fears she’d sought so hard to keep at bay. She wound her arms about his waist and buried her face against his firm shoulder. “How did he get here, Davy?”

  “I don’t know, love. One of your visitors must have left that note.”

  Lilly shuddered, growing cold. Someone close to her had dropped the letter on her porch. Someone she knew intended to kill her. “I cannot imagine any of them wishing me harm.”

  “Just the same, we’ll make a list of everyone who’s come to see you. I will question them personally.” Gently he took her face in his hands, serious gaze boring into her eyes. “Know this, Lilly, I will not let anyone harm you.”

  Brisk wind whipped across the porch, but Lilly scarcely noticed. The physical contact of their eyes left her breathless. Indecision skimmed Davy’s handsome face, his internal war dancing in his eyes.

  His hands trailed down from her face and along her throat until they linked around her once more. “Am I a fool, Lilly?”

  “Yes,” she said simply.

  A wry smile quirked his lips. “I am sorry for what I said the other day.”

  “You mean withdrawing your marriage proposal?”

  Davy cringed. “Not my best moment, but, yes, that is what I’m referring to.”

  Lilly waited for him to continue. When he did not, she cocked her head and backed out of his embrace, hugging her arms around herself. “What is it you want, Davy? I hold no ill will against you, and I do not wish to discuss our conversation on the swing again.”

  Expression tormented he hefted broad shoulders and raised his palms in a gesture of defeat. “I want you, Lilly. “

  She froze, hardly daring to hope he’d reconsidered his decision to leave her behind when he moved west.

  “Christ, Lil, I dream about you every night and you haunt my every waking moment. I love you.” He moved in on her with slow measured steps. “All this time I’ve been afraid of losing you. After my wife died I wanted nothing more than to follow her to the grave. I never wanted to feel that hollow again.” He drew a ragged breath and looked out over the porch. “The reality is, if something happens to you, I will be wrecked whether you’re mine or not.”

  Lilly’s breath hitched. She longed to throw herself into his arms and vow never to leave.

  Davy gulped, reaching out and taking both her hands in his. “Lilly, I realize that I must appear the world’s most fickle ass, but would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  Lilly quirked a brow. “And will your offer stand tomorrow?”

  Davy grunted, chagrined. “Yes. I stand before you completely sober and humbled by life’s mistakes.”

  Lilly smiled, heart swelling until she believed it would boil over with love. “In that case…” She sidled closer, leaning up to brush her lips over his in an affectionate kiss. “I would love to marry you.”

  Davy grinned, snaking both arms around her and lifting her clear off the ground as he spun them in an ecstatic circle.

  Lilly laughed aloud, twisting her arms about his shoulders as he touched her feet
back to the porch. “I love you,” she whispered, gaze dancing over his face. All barriers and anger evaporated as he dipped his head, taking her mouth in a heated exchange for any passersby to see. Lilly didn’t care. In that moment nothing mattered save for the two of them wound in each other’s arms. The heat of his body, the clean scent of his skin, and the bristle of his whiskers against her cheek. His very essence surrounded her. They’d passed into a secluded realm all their own.

  “I hope there is an announcement in the near future.”

  Lilly startled, her father’s gruff voice jerking her out of the passionate haze. “Oh, Papa, yes.” She stepped away from David, cheeks blazing hot. “Marshal Langston—er, um, Davy, has asked me to marry him.”

  “About damn time,” George said, striding purposefully up the walk. “But congratulations will have to wait. We have a problem.”

  Davy glanced down at Lilly, brow furrowed, and a bit of her joy diminished. She knew he was thinking as she, their happiness would not be secured until the killer was caught.

  “Deputy Whitfield appears to have gone missing.”

  11th Hour Rose

  Fifteen

  “So you finally wore her down,” George chided amiably as they strode side by side to the small apartment Deputy Whitfield rented.

  “Something like that.” Davy hoped the sheriff wouldn’t push the subject. He hadn’t had the opportunity to discuss any specifics with Lilly yet—such as where they would live, Charleston or move west—and he did not wish to speak out of turn.

  Dusk began to settle, darkening the sky and bringing a chill to the autumn air. Not wishing for Lilly to be alone, he’d attempted to leave her with her cousin, Lavinia Ross, but Mrs. Ross had not been at home. Eventually Davy insisted she stay with Craig and Marissa, at least for the day. Lilly was to be family after all. After posting an armed deputy and two Yankee soldiers as guards, Davy had reluctantly left her side to discover where the hell Whitfield was. The incompetent deputy was becoming more trouble than he was worth.