by Connie Mason
“I swear I’ll get him back for you, Belle.”
“You’re responsible for his abduction, why should I believe you?”
“Because I’m a man of my word.”
Her laughter was without mirth. “You’re a lying bastard who would do anything for money. I hate you, Casey Walker. I don’t need your help. I’ll get Tommy back and I’ll do it my own way. Clear your things out of here. I never want to see you again.”
Casey grasped her hands and pulled her to her feet. “You don’t mean that, Belle. What about tonight? Did that mean nothing to you?”
“About as much as it meant to you,” she retorted. “Let me go, there’s much to be done and so little time.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to beard the lion in his den. Get out of my way.”
“Are you crazy? McAllister’s a dangerous man. He’s prepared to go to any length to keep Tommy.”
“And I’m prepared to go to any length to see that he doesn’t.”
“Let me handle this. Maybe I can convince him to share custody.”
Belle gave him a look that told him exactly what she thought of that idea. “The old man hates me. He thinks I’m responsible for Tom’s death. He’d never agree to share custody. Don’t you understand? I don’t want your help. I don’t want you anywhere near me. I’m going to do what I have to do and nothing is going to stop me.”
“Dammit, Belle!” Unable to think of any way to stop her headlong rush into danger, Casey did the only thing he could think of at the moment. Seizing her arms, he pulled her hard against him and kissed her. Kissed her with his heart and soul and body. It was not enough.
Belle wrenched herself from his arms and struck him across the face. She was sobbing openly now, and Casey wanted to pull her back into his arms and comfort her. She wanted nothing from him. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, grimacing with distaste. “Don’t ever do that again!”
“Something happened between us tonight, Belle. Surely you cannot dismiss it as if it never happened.”
“Damn you! You used me ruthlessly. Coldly. Allowing me to think you cared. Don’t ever touch me again.” Turning on her heel, she stormed from the room.
Casey watched her leave, feeling lower than dirt. He hadn’t betrayed Belle, but he faulted himself for being careless. He should have realized McAllister would put a tail on him and set a false trail for them. McAllister was smart, he’d give him that. And determined. McAllister had planned well. His men made their move at a time when both he and Belle had been distracted and vulnerable. They must have been spying on them for days, waiting for just such a moment.
Now Belle blamed him for Tommy’s abduction. She was convinced he had seduced her simply to get her out of the way while her son was being abducted. Shit! He should have refused the job, should have let Pinkerton send a replacement, but he had been in desperate need of money. Well, he had the money and he still felt like a heel.
Belle packed her suitcase through a veil of tears. Tommy was gone and it was all her fault. If she had been with him instead of cavorting like some whore with that damn detective, he would still be here with her. The San Francisco stage came through the day after tomorrow, and she intended to be on it.
There was so much to do before then. She had to take what little money she had accumulated from the bank, turn the diner over to Dolores and Sanchez, and help Wan Yo prepare for their departure. The old man was beside himself with grief and remorse. He blamed himself for not protecting Tommy, and nothing she could say or do seemed to help. When they returned to San Francisco, Belle decided she would send Wan Yo to Naomi, and hope the madam could help him overcome his guilt.
Two days later Casey was on hand when the San Francisco stage pulled out of Placerville. Belle neither looked at nor acknowledged him. He did manage to speak with Wan Yo and explain his position, but didn’t know if the old man understood or not. Casey waited until the stage had loaded its passengers and rattled out of town, before mounting his newly purchased horse and riding hell-for-leather to San Francisco.
Exhausted and grimy from her trip over dusty, rutted roads, Belle disembarked at the Wells Fargo staging area two harrowing days after leaving Placerville. Wan Yo was as pale as a ghost while he waited for Belle to arrange for their luggage to be taken to their separate destinations. Belle’s was to go to the Fremont Hotel and Wan Yo’s to Naomi’s Pleasure Parlor. Belle knew she didn’t have a chance in hell of getting custody of Tommy if she lived with Naomi, so she had chosen the best hotel in town.
“Tell Naomi I’ll be around to see her soon, Wan Yo,” Belle instructed as they prepared to part.
“Where you go now, Missy Belle?”
“I’m going to the McAllister mansion.”
“Wan Yo go with missy.”
“No, this is something I have to do alone. I’ll be all right. He won’t dare hurt me. I’m Tommy’s mother.”
“Wan Yo think hard about Mister Casey. Maybe he tell truth. Maybe he no tell McAllister where to find Tommy. You need help, missy.”
“I’d die before I accept help from that gutless detective. No, Wan Yo, don’t let Casey fool you. Money is his master. He’ll betray anyone for a price. I won’t forget how he used me. I’ll be at the Fremont if you need me. Go along, now, I’ll see you soon.”
Belle hired a hack to take her to T.J. McAllister’s fashionable mansion located on Telegraph Hill. She paid the driver and stood before the gate several long minutes, before marshaling her courage and forging ahead. The gate was unlocked, and she let herself into the compound. She had scarcely reached the front steps when the door opened and a huge, barrel-chested man filled the entrance. He was toting guns on either hip and looked mean enough to chew nails.
“What do you want?” he asked harshly.
“To see my son,” Belle replied, tilting her chin in open defiance. “I’m Belle McAllister, I demand entrance.”
“Sorry, lady, no one comes in here without Mr. McAllister’s approval.”
“He can’t keep me from my son.”
He sneered in derision. “I know who you are. The boss told me all about ya. He hired me to protect his grandson. The law says yer a bad influence on the boy. Go away, you ain’t gettin’ in here.” He started to shut the door in her face.
“That’s not true!” Belle cried, shoving against the door. “I’m a good mother and I want my son.”
“Tell it to the law.”
“Wait! Just tell me how Tommy is. Is he well?”
“The kid’s fine,” the thug allowed. Just before the door slammed in her face, his insulting gaze slid down the length of her. “Maybe I’ll see ya at Naomi’s. You can’t be too expensive, what with yer limp and all.”
Shaking from rage, Belle stared at the closed door with growing horror. Would she never see her son again? Tears misted her eyes and she could actually feel her heart breaking. Not for the first time she cursed Casey Walker. If not for him she and Tommy would still be in Placerville, living in relative safety. Her only hope now was the law. She walked the entire distance to the sheriff’s office, needing the time to compose her thoughts before confronting the lawman.
Sheriff Rogan leaned back in his chair and raised his brow inquiringly. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”
“My name is Belle Parker McAllister and I need your help.”
The sheriff’s attention sharpened. “Do tell. You wouldn’t happen to be T.J. McAllister’s daughter-in-law, would you? I’ve heard all about you.”
Tried and condemned, Belle thought despondently. T.J. had certainly done his utmost to discredit her. “Whatever my father-in-law told you was a lie. He’s taken my son. Kidnapped him right out of his bed. What kind of man would do that to a five-year-old who’s never been parted from his mother?”
“Mr. McAllister wants what’s best for the boy. He was in here just yesterday explaining what he’d done, and why. He had an order signed by the judge giving him custody of the boy. If
you make trouble I can arrest you for disturbing the peace.”
Belle stared at him in abject horror. “Not see Tommy? You’re as mad as McAllister. He’s my son. He needs me. He’s only five years old. What grounds did McAllister have for taking Tommy from me?”
“He’s the boy’s grandfather and has every right to take the boy away from an unfit mother,” the sheriff stated. “You go along peaceably, ma’am, and there won’t be any trouble.”
“You’re out of your mind if you expect me to go away and leave my son to a man he despises. McAllister cared nothing for Tommy until his own son died. Then he suddenly has a change of heart and wants his grandson. He can’t have Tommy, do you hear me!” Belle cried, growing hysterical. “You haven’t heard the last from me.” Whirling on her heel, she beat a hasty retreat. But she wasn’t going far, oh, no. Only as far as T.J. McAllister’s office.
“Tell her I don’t want to see her,” a gruff voice called through the partially opened door.
McAllister’s secretary closed the door and gave Belle a sheepish look. “I’m sorry, ma’am, Mr. McAllister is … he’s too busy to see anyone right now.”
Belle wasn’t about to take no for an answer. Marching past the flustered secretary, she flung open the door and stormed into the office. McAllister looked up at her forced entrance, his eyes narrowed in outrage.
“What’s the meaning of this, Myerson? I clearly stated I didn’t want to see this woman.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. McAllister,” the secretary stammered, “she pushed right past me.”
“Get out, Myerson, I’ll speak with Miss Parker.”
Belle turned on McAllister the moment the door closed behind Myerson. “How dare you kidnap my son! And my name is McAllister, as you well know. I married your son, remember?”
McAllister’s lips thinned. “I never recognized the marriage. I had a society marriage arranged for Tom, it would have been perfect for him. Then he fell into your clutches and you saw a chance to better yourself. You may have a license declaring the legality of the union, but I steadfastly refuse to welcome a whore into the family.”
Belle’s temper exploded. “You have no right to judge me when you know nothing about me! You visited Naomi’s when I lived there. Did you ever see me go upstairs with a man? Did you ever see me do anything but serve drinks and clean up after the girls?”
“I could round up a dozen men who’d swear they had you.”
Belle could hardly credit his words. “I knew you hated me, but I had no idea the lengths you’d go to ruin me. But no matter how much you hate me, it still doesn’t condone what you’ve done to Tommy.”
“Tommy is better off without you. He’s a fine boy. The sooner he forgets you the better off he’ll be. He’ll have everything money can buy. When he’s of age he’ll inherit my wine empire, and more money than he can spend in a lifetime.”
“What about love? Can you give him love?”
“I’m not incapable of giving love.”
“You could have fooled me. I’m talking about a mother’s love.”
“Tommy will have nurses, nannies, and tutors. He’ll lack for nothing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m expecting an important client.”
Belle thrust her jaw out stubbornly. “I’m not budging from here until you let me see Tommy.”
“Impossible.” He busied himself with a stack of papers piled before him on his desk. “I have an injunction forbidding any contact between you and my grandson. Break the law and I’ll see you behind bars.”
“Have you no heart? No compassion?”
“Not where you’re concerned.” He leered at her, his expression one of satisfaction. “You’re a whore and I can prove it. Where were you when my men broke into your house and took Tommy?”
Belle blanched and staggered beneath his hurtful accusation.
“You don’t need to answer, Belle, I know you were screwing Casey Walker. He’s a damn good detective, dedicated to his job. I hope the pleasure he gave you was worth the loss of your son. Walker was worth every dime I paid him.”
It was a vicious, calculated blow, and Belle was nearly vanquished by it. Yet McAllister knew exactly what he was about. His henchmen had been briefed on the situation and had followed Walker to Placerville. They spent several days spying on Walker and Belle before actually snatching Tommy. Their orders were to keep a low profile and take the boy without the knowledge of either Walker or Belle. The men had waited for the right moment and were rewarded when, spying through the window, they saw Belle go into Walker’s bedroom.
When they saw Tommy leave the bedroom alone, they assumed that Walker would keep Belle occupied for several hours, and they were right. There was only one reason a woman went into a man’s bedroom, and McAllister’s spies had reported what they had seen upon their return to San Francisco. Leaving the note had been a stroke of genius, and McAllister congratulated himself for thinking of it. Getting even with Walker felt good.
Beyond speechless, Belle felt the lifeblood drain out of her. Casey Walker! He had cost her everything she loved and field dear. He might as well have taken a gun to her. Without Tommy, she had no life.
McAllister knew he had wounded Belle, but thought it only just considering how she had taken his son and heir from him. If there were tender feelings between Belle and Walker, his lies about the detective more than paid the bastard back for taking his money and betraying him. Belle had no choice now but to believe that Walker had used her to get to Tommy, and that pleased McAllister. He had killed two birds with one stone. He had defeated both Belle and Walker.
“I won’t let you get away with this,” Belle charged when she finally found her voice. “Beware, Mr. McAllister. One way or another, I’ll get my son back.”
With all the dignity she could muster, she turned and limped from the room. The interview had left her shaken and demoralized. She was hopelessly out of her league. She had no weapons to use against a man like McAllister. He held all the cards and she was outmaneuvered. But all wasn’t lost yet. There had to be some way to stop McAllister from separating her and Tommy. With careful thought, she would find it.
* * *
Belle knew she would soon have to find cheaper lodging than the Fremont Hotel, for she had far better places in which to spend her money, but for the time being it sufficed. After her visit with McAllister she had no appetite for food, but since she had to keep up her strength she ordered a light repast from room service. While she waited, she bathed, donned her nightgown and robe, and sat in silent contemplation. She missed Tommy desperately and wondered if he missed her. She dried her tears, aware that wallowing in self pity was doing neither her nor Tommy any good. She had to direct all her energy toward finding a way to get him back.
A knock on the door brought her from her reverie. Thinking it was room service with her food, she thoughtlessly opened the door. When she saw the tall man filling the doorway, she tried to slam the panel in his face. Casey shoved the door wide, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him.
“What are you doing here? I told you I never wanted to see you again. How did you know where to find me?”
“I want to talk to you. I went to Naomi’s and Wan Yo told me where to find you. Dammit, Belle, what will it take for you to believe I didn’t lead McAllister to Tommy?”
“Nothing. I’ll never believe you. McAllister knows what you and I were doing when Tommy was abducted. He told me you’d deliberately seduced me. He says it proves I’m a whore, and that the law will never grant me custody of Tommy.”
Casey groaned in genuine dismay. “The bastard. He said he’d get even with me for taking his money and quitting the case. I wrote Allen Pinkerton for a loan. It was waiting for me at the post office. Tomorrow I’m going to pay McAllister every dime I took from him. Perhaps I can convince him to share Tommy with you. It’s better than nothing.”
Belle turned her back on him. “I don’t believe a word you’ve said, Mr. Walker. Good night.”
Casey wa
s at his wit’s end. Belle was unreachable. She hated him and he couldn’t blame her. Acting on instinct and a need for her to understand, he grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Dammit, Belle, don’t you know I care for you?” Desperate to prove his words, he pulled her against him and covered her mouth in a soul-baring kiss. Everything he felt, all he was and would ever be was centered in that kiss.
Despite the hatred she harbored for Casey, Belle fought the pounding in her blood and the sharp edge of desire spiraling through her. Was it possible to love and hate at the same time?
Casey felt her lips soften beneath his, and something dark and wild, a feeling embellished by memories of their loving and subsequent loss, made him deepen the kiss. But neither the compelling pressure of his mouth or the tantalizing thrust of his tongue could make the terrible hurt he had caused her more bearable. He tasted the salt of her tears and stepped away.
Belle retreated, her eyes gleaming with cold brilliance. “If you care for me, you’ll find a way to get my son back for me.” The pain in her voice overwhelmed him.
“You’ll get Tommy back, Belle, I swear it.” He had no idea how he would make it happen, but somehow he must. He wasn’t the best damn detective in the Pinkerton Agency for nothing.
Chapter 7
Casey found cheap lodging in a not quite respectable, somewhat shabby inn on the waterfront that catered to sailors. Though it was not what he was usually accustomed to, it fit his slim purse. He retired early, intending to get a good night’s sleep, but thoughts of Belle kept interfering. He’d tried without success to convince her that he hadn’t brought McAllister’s men to Placerville and felt so damn helpless. What made it all so confusing and difficult to explain was the very fact that in the beginning he had gone to Placerville with every intention of separating Belle from her son.
There were times when Casey hated the type of work he was involved in, and this was one of them. Earlier this evening when he visited Belle’s hotel room, he’d had a difficult time keeping his hands off of her. His fingers itched to touch her, to caress her cheek, to stroke her body as he made love to her. Belle wanted nothing to do with him, however, and that one brief kiss she’d allowed him had shown him a hint of paradise that would never be his. He’d blown his chance with Belle when he withheld the truth from her.