Claimed (The Flash Gold Chronicles, #4)

Home > Fantasy > Claimed (The Flash Gold Chronicles, #4) > Page 9
Claimed (The Flash Gold Chronicles, #4) Page 9

by Lindsay Buroker


  Kali and Andrews were staring at him, waiting for an answer.

  Cedar sighed, knowing he would go to that meeting no matter what reservations he had. If there was a chance, however slim, that Cudgel would be there... “Yes.”

  “Does he always talk this much?” Andrews whispered.

  “He doesn’t get chatty until you’ve blown up a few enemies together. And bedrolls.”

  Cedar snorted. “It’s called a Euklisia Rug.”

  “I... see. Well, the meeting is supposed to be at seven. That’s why I hurried up here to let you know. I’ll have to get back to town if I’m going to change and make it.”

  “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?” Kali asked. “Aside from the mud spatters?”

  “It doesn’t exactly say wealth. I have other clothes that will be more appropriate, more believable. My age is already going to make it challenging, but I’ll pretend I’m there to represent my father’s interests.” Andrews smiled at her. He did that a lot.

  “Good,” Kali said. “Thank you.”

  “I think they’ve heard of him,” Andrews went on. “His name is probably the reason they agreed to the meeting. Grandfather did quite well back in the California gold rush, and Father invested a lot of it down in San Francisco.”

  In other words, the kid had a rich family. Cedar watched Kali for her reaction, wondering if she had already known and if that was why she had thought to employ Andrews in this ruse. Maybe not. He seemed to be making a point to let them know. And he was watching Kali for a reaction too. Hoping to impress her? He must not have figured out that she would be more impressed by a man whose father was an engineer. Though, if she were to marry someone with money, she wouldn’t have to worry about scrimping and scraping to buy the parts for her airship... Not that Cedar could see her marrying any time soon. Why was he worrying about this now, anyway? She hadn’t given any indication that she thought anything of Andrews’s interest in her.

  “Good,” Kali said. “That’ll make this meeting more plausible. We’ll show up early and be around to keep you out of trouble.”

  “Ah, you’re sure you wouldn’t want to accompany me into the meeting?” Andrews asked. “Your... strongman can wait outside. I’m sure with your quick mind, you would be able to react instantly to trouble inside. I also doubt very much that your Cudgel will be the one to meet with us. Some high-up lackey of his is most likely what we can expect. You shouldn’t have to worry about him recognizing you.”

  Kali hesitated.

  “What makes you want her to come with you so badly?” Cedar asked, reminded of the trap Tremblay had set for the two of them. It wasn’t possible this scrawny newspaper kid was working for Cudgel, too, was it? If his family had money, he shouldn’t be easy to bribe, but there were other ways to force a man into a certain line of work.

  Andrews lifted his hands. “Nothing, I just sensed she might want to come.” He waved to the dress.

  Kali looked into Cedar’s eyes. He didn’t know if she read the suspicion and disapproval there, but she eventually said, “Nah, I’d be more comfortable coming up against these brutes in my regular clothes.” She patted her thigh where a pocket would have been if she had been in her trousers.

  “I understand,” Andrews said. “Will you at least walk me back down the hill, so I don’t trip any more of your traps?”

  “Yes.” Kali took his arm and led him outside. “Let’s rehearse what you’re planning to tell them too.”

  Cedar watched them walk out together and wished again he had found time to ask Kali his question.

  Part VII

  As the shadows hugged the river, Cedar placed his last trap at the side door to the sawmill, a tripwire combined with some of the grease from one of Kali’s balls. It would do little more than slow down someone exiting from that direction, but that should be all he needed. He patted the side of his rifle. He had already staked out an observation spot for himself on the roof, and Kali had said she would watch from the stairs next to the side door, where a small window offered a view of the interior. The door itself was locked—they had already checked it. Too bad, because it seemed to open into a dark niche inside, half hidden by steam machinery.

  Seven p.m. was approaching, but the large circular saws still buzzed in the mill, powered by a steam engine that clanked and whirred. The logs corralled in the river and the countless lanterns burning in the building suggested the operation would run through the night. Twilight wouldn’t come for a while, but the shadows had grown long in town. Cedar would have preferred full darkness, since it was easier to hide and spy that way.

  “This isn’t what I expected for a meeting place,” Kali said, standing on a crate to peer through the window. “Who goes to a mill to buy land? If you don’t offer a fair price, the owner could put your head under a saw until you get more agreeable.”

  “Might be that’s a deliberate part of their negotiation strategy. Also...” Cedar waved down the alley. The front of it turned onto a main street, but the back ended at the river, where a couple of boats were tied to docks. “They’ve got an easy escape if the Mounties come to investigate.”

  “Either way, I’d feel bad if I got Travis sawn in half like that log there.” Kali pointed through the window, though he could hear the grinding of wood without looking.

  “We won’t let that happen.” This wasn’t the only exit Cedar had booby-trapped, and he had a few other tricks as well. Though, he had to admit, this wasn’t the first time he had set up a trap for Cudgel. His other ones had failed, or simply not been good enough to hold the criminal.

  “Good.” Kali offered a quick smile. “He’s the only reporter who was interested in writing up my airship.” The smile didn’t quite mask the concern in her eyes.

  Cedar doubted that concern was born of anything more than friendship, but the tiniest bit of him wondered if maybe he had something to worry about. She wouldn’t have offered Andrews a position on her airship, too, would she have?

  “Better keep him alive then,” was all he said. “You’ll need an ally to pull off your Tom Sawyer scheme.”

  “That’s the truth. I’m not nearly as charismatic as Twain’s characters.”

  Cedar nodded toward the eaves. “I’m going to head up to the roof to watch for their approach. You need anything?”

  He couldn’t imagine what she might need—in addition to carrying her Winchester, her pockets bulged, and a stuffed satchel hung across her torso—but it seemed polite to offer.

  “I’ve got everything I need.” Kali patted the satchel. She wore boots, buckskin trousers, and a cotton work shirt rather than the dress, and looked the more comfortable for it. “You be careful up there. You’re a touch back-heavy.” She waved to the katana, rifle, and the pellet-shooting gun, all of which he had strapped to his back so he could climb. His pockets bulged, too, with the smoke nuts and net-throwing balls she had made for him.

  “I can carry a lot on my back.”

  Her lips twisted wryly. “I’ve noticed.”

  He started for the stairs, so he could boost himself up to the roof, but she caught his hand first. Kali stood on her tiptoes for a kiss, not a peck on the cheek, but a fiery, full-on-the-lips kiss that made the mercury in his thermometer shoot to the top. He suddenly wished it were three hours from now, Cudgel were taken care of, and they could find a room in one of the nicer hotels in town.

  Kali dropped to her heels, though she didn’t release his hand. “Be careful.”

  The intensity of her words—and the kiss—made him ashamed of his doubts about her and Andrews. It also reminded him that this wasn’t some simple hunt against a foe he knew he could take down. If Cudgel was inside somewhere, lurking in the shadows under a layer of invisibility powder, this could be the culmination of Cedar’s years of hunting, one way or another.

  “I will be,” he whispered and pulled her into a hug. It was almost seven. There wasn’t time for more. “You be careful too. If things get hot in there... pull out. Don’t r
isk yourself. Not for my fight.” He almost told her to pull out now, to wait somewhere safe, but he’d already asked her if she wanted to do that, and she had refused, saying she had to look after her future security chief. Besides, he couldn’t think of anyone else he would rather have at his back.

  Maybe he should tell her that. Maybe he should tell her everything. Cedar stared into her eyes, groping for words.

  She smiled, breaking the intensity of their eye contact. She swatted him on the rump and stepped back. “Better get going, bounty hunter.”

  Cedar swallowed the words he hadn’t been able to find then smiled, too, and tipped an imaginary hat. “Yes, ma’am.”

  He climbed the stairs, hopped over the greasy patch, and onto the far railing. The craftsmanship was shoddy, and it wobbled beneath his weight, but not before he jumped off and caught the lip of the roof. He pulled himself up, careful not to land heavily on the cedar shingles, though, with all the saws buzzing inside, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. Crouching, he climbed up the slanted roof, staying on the alley side so nobody from the street would see him. His plan was to watch the street from his belly, but he noticed a circular vent with wood slats on the wall beneath the peak of the A-style frame. Access to an attic or loft? Spying from inside might be preferable than spying from the roof. Depending on the layout and the number of people working, he might even be able to snoop around before Andrews and those he was meeting arrived. Then he could find an ideal place from which to spy on the conversation—and capture whoever was coming to sell Andrews a nearly stolen claim. Maybe he might chance upon an invisible figure observing from some corner as well...

  Kali was watching him. He pointed at the vent, then lowered his torso over the edge to see if he could open it from there. If he hadn’t had a long torso, he wouldn’t have had a chance of reaching it, but he was able to slip his knife under the flashing and pry at it in several spots. His leverage wasn’t the best, but he wasn’t particularly worried about damaging the vent. It soon popped off under his assault, and he managed to catch it before it fell, though he had to lunge for it and almost upset his perch. Falling off a roof—that was the kind of athleticism that impressed a woman, yes.

  But Kali wasn’t watching anymore, anyway. She had crept to the front of the alley to peek around the corner toward the street. She might be looking at anything—one of Commissioner Steele’s first moves had been to force the tents and squatters away from the docks, but there was still a lot of foot traffic along that street at all hours of the day—but her interest in that direction might mean that Andrews was coming too. Better hurry.

  Cedar attempted to turn himself into a snake and slither off the roof and through the hole. It wasn’t that big—and he wasn’t a snake. He had to contort himself to keep from falling, then clunked his weapons against the frame, and finally almost fell onto the wooden floor inside. He hoped Kali hadn’t seen that move, either. Apparently big men and attic vents mixed about as well as fire and turpentine.

  He rose to a crouch, finding himself in more of a loft than an attic. Numerous crates full of tools and spare parts filled the space, which stretched halfway across the building and overlooked stacks of lumber piled against the front walls below. Fine wood dust coated everything in the loft. Cedar breathed through his mouth so the particles floating in the air wouldn’t cause him to sneeze.

  He tugged the vent into place behind him, then crept toward the edge of the loft. It might not be dark out yet, but the mill’s interior was dim, even with the numerous lanterns mounted on the walls and posts. The boiler, furnace, and engine powering the blade lay beneath the loft on the river side of the mill. The machinery created deep shadows, and he quickly identified it as a spot where he could hide if he was careful. Several workers moved about down there. They were busy maneuvering the logs onto the rails leading to the big circular saw, and nobody was looking up. More piles of lumber were stacked along other walls, and dunes of sawdust littered the floor around the saw. The men working near the blade wore bandanas over their mouths and noses.

  Little light made its way up to the loft, making it a decent place from which to spy. A couple of doors in the corner near the front wall drew his gaze. One or both ought to be the foreman’s or owner’s office, places where someone like Cudgel might lurk to observe the meeting. Also places where there could be paperwork that would tie the criminal to this place—the mill hadn’t been open more than a few weeks. In fact, Cedar was quite certain it had opened after Cudgel came to town.

  He drummed his fingers on a dusty floorboard. Investigate now, or wait? If Kali had seen something in the street, Andrews and those he was meeting with might walk in at any second. That might distract the workers, making it easier for Cedar to creep into those rooms without being noticed.

  A few moments passed without anyone coming in the front door, and he made his decision. Cedar watched the flow of workers for a moment, then flipped down from above, landing lightly on the wood floor near the wall.

  Both of the doors were open, but the offices inside were dark, the foreman having likely gone home for the day. One full of filing cabinets and shelves appeared to be more for storage, so Cedar slipped into the other, the shadows swallowing him from view by anyone who might glance in that direction.

  The office was empty save for a desk, chairs, cabinets, and—he sniffed—a tin of something that smelled like fish eggs. In the dark, he couldn’t see more than the outlines of the furnishings, but his nose guided him to a little table where he identified caviar, a box of cigars, and a wine bottle. Perhaps the Honest and Earnest Holding Company treated its rich clients to fancy victuals after the deal was signed. Or maybe the foreman was expecting an important guest later... Cedar had been following Cudgel long enough to know he had expensive tastes.

  Though he didn’t have a sensation of being watched, he walked around the office, sticking his hand into the corners and listening for the footsteps of someone moving out of the way. It made him feel silly, but he had seen the effects of that powder on his own fingers.

  Someone walked past the office door. Cedar halted his search and eased into a shadowy corner. The person carried a few broken pieces of wood to a crate labeled scrap. Cedar would have liked to have shut the door, but that might be noticed. He waited a moment, until the wandering worker returned to his task, then, after he was convinced nobody was in the office with him, searched the desk drawers. There wasn’t much in them, but he found a couple of checks tucked into a ledger book. He tilted the paper toward the light seeping through the doorway. And forgot to breathe.

  Terrance Conrath. He had seen the name before. It was one of Cudgel’s aliases. Or maybe it was even his true name. All Cedar knew was that he had read it in a newspaper article once, when he had been researching his enemy’s past.

  He closed the book and the drawer, leaving the checks inside. Had the simple trick with Andrews truly let him stumble onto Cudgel’s lair? Or was this even now some trap that he had walked into? Either way, Cedar knew one of Cudgel’s secrets now and had a way to combat the invisibility powder. His hand strayed to his back, touching the air gun. All he had to do was chance to hit his man.

  The big saw stopped, the silence abrupt. Cedar froze.

  A few murmurs came from the work floor, but nothing he could make out. He eased to the door. The men who had been working the saw were still there, but they had turned toward the entrance.

  “You men clear out for the night,” someone said. “The owner is coming for a meeting.”

  “Our pay getting docked?” a beefy worker in Cedar’s line of sight asked, jamming a fist against his hip.

  “Nope, this looks to be another lucrative meeting.” The unseen speaker, a foreman or manager, Cedar assumed, chuckled.

  Men slapped each other on the backs, tossed bandanas onto wood piles, and streamed for the door, talks of finding beer on their lips. Cedar decided he should leave the office before whoever was giving orders decided to come sample the caviar.
r />   He leaned an eyeball around the jamb. The men were trooping out, and the remaining fellow, someone in wool clothing that hadn’t seen dust or mud, stood by the door, holding it open and looking out toward the street. Cedar took the opportunity to slip out. He glanced toward the loft, thinking to jump back up there, but the piles of sawdust around the cutting equipment caught his eye. Using the machinery for cover, he grabbed a few handfuls of the fine chips. The foreman took a step onto the porch, lifting a hand to someone. Cedar returned to the office for long enough to scatter the sawdust in front of the doorway. Not a trap exactly, but if someone invisible were to pass that way, the piles should be stirred.

  Footsteps sounded on the walkway beyond the front door.

  “It’s ready for you,” the foreman said.

  Cedar darted back toward the machinery a second before several men walked through the door. He crouched beside the furnace. The side of the saw blade, not to mention a giant log poised for a cutting, blocked much of his view, but he saw enough... and his stomach clenched.

  Andrews walked in, as expected, but Kali walked in too. She wasn’t wearing any kind of costume, and her satchel and Winchester were gone. Had been taken away, he corrected, as two scrappy-looking men walked in behind her, carrying guns. The weapons were aimed at her back, not at Andrews.

  It might have been unintended, or she might have put up more of a fight than he had, but Cedar’s blood was chilling in his veins. If the newspaper kid had betrayed her, he would wring that scrawny little neck.

  Two more men walked in after the toughs, their sleek wool jackets more suggestive of business establishments than back alleys—or sawmills. But they were also armed. The six-shooters were holstered at their belts, but they could doubtlessly draw them quickly enough.

 

‹ Prev