“I thought you should know that I received this today.” She held up the letter. “Someone is claiming to know who I am.”
His jaw clenched and his dark eyes hardened. “Who sent it?”
She shook her head. “It’s anonymous.”
He held out his hand and she gave the letter to him, dropping the parchment as if it had burned her the second he took it. His brow furrowed as he scanned the letter and tightness squeezed her chest. Glory realized that she was holding her breath, hoping against hope that he’d find something she had missed that would tell them the letter was a hoax, so she let it out and felt her muscles relax.
A knock on the open door drew her attention. Hunter came in followed closely by Zane. Hunter was tall at just over six feet, but Zane towered over him by a few inches. His large frame was strapped with lean muscle, matching Able in sheer powerful strength. If not for Zane’s darker coloring marking his native heritage, she’d imagine there was at least one Viking ancestor in his lineage.
Despite his size, his appearance wasn’t the most striking thing about him, at least not for her. It was his eyes. They were so dark they were nearly black and looked at her with an intensity she didn’t know how to interpret. It was almost as if he could see past the role that she played. As if he was the only one who could look through the brothel madam costume and wonder at the real woman beneath.
The longer she was around him the more she craved that. He was looking at her now as he closed the door behind him. She couldn’t stop herself from staring at the pink scar that started just above his right eyebrow, went down over his cheekbone, before drifting off into his hairline. Time and time again she’d wanted to ask him about it but hadn’t. She knew what it was like to have scars you didn’t want to talk about. Luckily hers were hidden, but she could only imagine how she’d feel if someone questioned them. So she stayed silent on that point out of both respect and self-preservation. The less she knew about him the better. He was an outlaw and she was the madam of a brothel. There was no future for either of them, especially not together.
“Thank you both for coming,” she said, returning her attention to Hunter. He was always the one out of the band of brothers who’d taken the lead in dealing with her. “Please sit down.” Noting there was only one chair available since Able occupied the other, she added, “There’s an extra chair in Charlotte’s office.”
“There’s no need,” Zane said, crossing his arms over his chest as he came to stand behind the empty chair. He gave a nod to Hunter, and his friend sat down in the chair.
“I’ve asked you here because I’ve received a rather disturbing letter.” The paper crinkled as Able finished reading it and handed it back to her. A glance at his face told her nothing of how he felt. If he was worried he was careful not to show it. “Well, perhaps I should simply read the letter so you’ll understand.”
At Hunter’s nod of encouragement, she took a deep breath, loath to read the words again. There was no help for it though, so she plowed forward.
“‘I know who you are. You will understandably doubt my claim, so allow me to elaborate. It is my preference not to give too much away in the event someone else finds this letter, so I will simply say that I know you are from South Carolina. I know that you arrived in Helena in 1876 with nothing but the funds you managed to steal, along with your grandmother’s quilt.’”
Her voice trembled, so she paused to clear her throat. Those were details anyone could guess, she reasoned.
“It’s common knowledge among the staff that I sleep with my grandmother’s quilt and anyone could guess about the South Carolina bit,” she said.
Able nodded in agreement. “Keep reading.”
She took a fortifying breath and continued. “‘I know your true name. I know the details that caused you to run away. I know from whom you ran.’”
She paused as that vile man’s image came to mind. Justin Dubose. Every day that passed she resisted thinking about him, but he was always there lurking in the shadows of her memory. She feared that he always would be.
When she paused, Hunter said, “It’s a clever attempt at extortion, but there’s no solid information to prove they do know who you are.”
His handsome face revealed no hint of alarm. Perhaps that meant she was overreacting, or perhaps it meant he simply didn’t understand the severity of her danger.
Biting her lower lip, she read to the end. “‘Please do not misunderstand my intention. I was hired to find you. I have no personal stake in your recovery. My goal is simply to give you the opportunity to stay hidden. Should you choose to take that opportunity I will disappear with my payment, never to be seen again. Should you refuse, then I have no choice but to report my findings to my employer. The choice is yours. If you wish to stay hidden, have five thousand dollars directed to the account number and bank below. You have one week.’”
There was no signature, only an account number and the address of a bank in Chicago.
The room was silent as she laid the letter on her desk. A myriad of emotions played out in her mind: fear, disbelief, frustration, anger, resolve. In the blink of an eye, she went from uncertainty to somehow knowing exactly what she wanted to do. “We have to find this person.”
“Are the details in the letter accurate?” Hunter asked.
“Close enough.” The waver was gone from her voice, thankfully.
Able stood, his hand going up to the back of his neck to massage away stiffness. “It doesn’t say much, but the things it does say...” His voice trailed off and he walked to the window that looked out over the mansion’s immaculate front stoop and the street beyond, his unfocused gaze taking in the night sky.
Zane walked around to take Able’s vacated chair. Sitting down, he leaned forward, forearms on his knees. “Did you run from someone, Glory?”
She blinked, her body instinctively tensing in reaction to having that old wound prodded. “I’d rather not get into my past. That’s why I want the person caught.”
Zane stared at her, his gaze touching every inch of her face. Maybe he thought if he looked hard enough he’d find the answer there. God help her, a part of her wanted to tell him everything. To share the secret that only Able knew because he’d been there when it had happened. She’d never told another soul, because she’d never trusted anyone enough. She didn’t know Zane well, so there was no reason to trust him, but as she stared into the depths of his sympathetic eyes she wanted to tell him everything. Some small part of her hoped that sharing the burden would make it lighter, but realistically, she knew that wouldn’t happen. Telling anyone else would simply open herself up to more situations like this. The world was ruled by greed. She’d learned that lesson the hard way.
Hunter intervened before Zane could reply. “We can find this person, but it would help if you’d let us know a little more.”
“It’s best that you know as little as possible.”
Hunter frowned but the expression was mild. “If we’re going to help we do need to know where to look for this person. And if a threat is coming, then we need to know who to look for to stop it.”
She wavered and stared down at the letter again. What he said made sense, but there was no way she was letting anyone know where she and Able had come from. She didn’t think that Hunter or Zane would intentionally betray her, but if the wrong person found out they could easily bring the devil himself to her door.
“Glory and I came here twelve years ago.” Able walked over to stand behind her chair. “We have no contact with anyone we left behind. We can’t tell you any more than that.”
His brow creased in visible frustration, Zane said, “You don’t have to tell us who...yet, but we need to know... Is it possible that someone is looking for you?”
Taking a ragged breath, she nodded. “Yes.”
“And what would happen if this person found you?”
She was silent as she thought about how much to tell him. Finally she went with the simplest version of the truth. “Very bad things.”
He sat up straight, his palms running down his thighs as he visibly tried to control his anger. She was glad he was angry on their behalf. Maybe he and Hunter would be able to control this threat before it could hurt them.
“Able will be in danger as well,” she added.
“We’ll find the person responsible for this letter.” Hunter stabbed at the letter lying on her desk with his index finger as he spoke.
Glory nodded. “It’s not that I can’t pay the five thousand dollars. It’s that I’m concerned that this person will turn over the information to their employer anyway. I can’t emphasize enough how important it is that Able and I stay hidden.”
“Do you think the person you’re running from would involve the authorities? Marshals? Congressmen?” Hunter asked. He was asking if they’d done something illegal.
“No, nothing like that. This is a personal issue,” she said.
“Could it be Harvey?” Zane asked.
“How do you know about William Harvey?” she asked, surprised he knew when she’d only just realized that Harvey could be a potential, immediate threat.
His well-shaped lips tipped up into a semblance of what passed as a smile for Zane, giving her a flash of white teeth. “I saw you talking to him downstairs. He didn’t seem pleased when he left.”
“You saw him leave then?” she asked.
He nodded. “I followed him out.”
“Well, then it wasn’t him who left the note,” she concluded. “I was with him from the time he arrived until I left him, and then you followed him out. He wouldn’t have had time to come up and leave this.”
“Wait.” Hunter held up his arms and all attention turned to him. “The letter was left in your study?”
She nodded. “Right here on my desk.”
“Does anyone have a key to your study?” he asked.
“No. The only key is here in my pocket where it’s been all day.” She felt its solid weight through the silk of her gown.
Zane moved so fast that she sat back in surprise as he drew a small revolver he kept in his boot.
She gasped but managed to keep her voice low as she said, “You know there are no guns allowed in this house, Mr. Pierce.” Every man who entered was required to hand over his guns at the door to be returned upon his departure.
“Tell that to whoever broke into your study and could be in your apartment now. Go downstairs.” He walked to the door that led to her suite of rooms, where he pressed an ear against the solid wood as if listening for movement within.
“I don’t want to go downstairs. People are bound to get suspicious and I don’t want anyone to know what’s going on,” she argued, staying where she was. “Besides, the keys to my study and my personal rooms are different.”
He grimaced at her, clearly disapproving of her choice. Looking from her to Able, he said, “Stay here with her and keep vigilant.” He tested the door latch and once he found it locked he motioned for her to hand over the key.
Glory sighed, but she handed it over.
“It’s possible someone doesn’t have a key so they picked the lock,” Hunter explained. “Better to use caution and check it out now.” He grabbed a gun from his boot and took up sentry at the door to her darkened apartment ready to rush to help should Zane need him.
Realizing they were right, but still not liking the additional invasion of her privacy, Glory turned her attention back to Able who was staring down at the letter. “What do you make of this?”
“It’s blackmail.” Able spat the word out as if it left a bad taste in his mouth and walked to the window again. The glow of the streetlights backlit him, making his medium-brown skin appear darker. He ran a hand over his head, his palm skimming right over his short hair. “I can’t abide that cowardice.”
“Do you think it’s real? Do you think it’s possible someone really knows who we are?” There was no doubt in her mind that if someone knew who she was that they’d know who Able was as well. She and Able had escaped together.
He looked back at her and even in the dim lighting she caught the flash of worry that crossed his eyes. Solid, confident, levelheaded Able was concerned. The fear she’d felt earlier came back, only this time it wasn’t creeping and cold. It came over her in a wave of panic that was cold and then hot, nearly sending her to her feet in a rush to do something. Anything.
“We need to find out where this letter came from,” said Able. He paced over to lean a hip on the edge of her desk, clearly too agitated to stay still for long. “I’ll start questioning the staff. There’s an account number here where you’re to deposit the money. We can have it traced.”
Yes, there were things they could do. She wasn’t defenseless anymore. She shoved the panic down again and held on to that one fact. “Right. That’s the first place to start.”
Able nodded. “I’ll go out in the morning—”
“No,” Glory interjected. “We can question the staff discreetly, but we can’t let anyone know about the note. And we especially can’t let anyone connect us to whoever owns this account.” She pointed at the numbers written on the piece of paper. Turning her attention to the man guarding the door to her apartment, she said, “Hunter, this is the main reason I came to you for help. Your family owns shares in the bank.” Hunter’s father was one of the wealthiest men in town. The Jamesons had been major shareholders in the bank since its founding. “Surely you can make some confidential inquiries and figure out whose name is attached to this account without tying that inquiry back to us? I think if we could make some headway on that front, we can wrap this up quickly.”
“I can make some inquiries in the morning,” said Hunter.
She nodded, already feeling a little better now that they were making plans to deal with this. As if sensing her disquiet, Able put his hand on her shoulder.
“He won’t be able to touch you here, Glory. You know that?” Able asked.
There was no need for Able to elaborate on who he was. He had been the dark phantom hovering over them ever since they’d escaped; the monster they both feared in the dark of night. She nodded and Able squeezed her shoulder. Here they were again after all these years. Trying to reassure each other that Justin wouldn’t get them. To be honest, she wasn’t quite sure she believed it fully. There were still times she woke up in the middle of the night expecting him to be there. If he found his way to them, she was certain that he would kill them.
Instead of putting voice to her fears, she squeezed Able’s hand and took his offer of comfort for what it was. He’d become the family she’d had to give up. An older brother who would always be there to look out for her. Only now that was threatened and she needed to do something about it.
Chapter Four
Zane moved silently into the sitting area of Glory’s suite of rooms. The only light came in through the window facing the street, casting the small space in shadow and shades of gray. Alert to any movement, he switched on the wall sconce. Yellow light filtered over the landscape paintings on the wall and the overstuffed, comfortable-looking furniture that made up the bulk of the room’s decor. It was much cozier than he’d been expecting. All the furniture downstairs was elegant and chosen for fashion more than comfort. He’d been expecting more of the same in the madam’s private rooms.
It wasn’t a very large space, but it was relaxed and homey. A full bookcase sat on one wall and the other held what he assumed was a phonograph, though he’d never seen one in person. The large brass cone sat silently. Everything appeared well-kept and undisturbed.
On quiet feet, he glanced inside the tiled bathing chamber to find it empty before making his way to her bedchamber. A strange feeling came over him as he opened the door and switched on the light. A sense that he was intruding on h
er private sanctuary, the place she came to get away from the world, washed over him. It was a place he very much wanted to know. Her bed sat neatly made with a faded blue-and-yellow quilt. Given the understated elegance of the rest of the space, he’d expected something slightly more grand. Maybe something made of silk or satin. But it was an ordinary quilt. Her grandmother’s quilt, he realized.
How many people knew about that quilt? The rumor was that she never entertained men privately. While that seemed to be true, rumors could be wrong. At the very least, it was highly likely that her staff had been to her private rooms. The list of people who knew that detail was endless.
He tried to imagine her sitting on the bed, reading the book that sat closed on the nightstand. Her bare feet peeking out beneath the hem of her gown with her hair down around her. He couldn’t do it. He knew so little of the woman he couldn’t imagine her as anything other than the self-possessed Glory Winters. Calm, elegant and always proper. Did she ever lounge in her bed without a corset? He grinned at the thought.
Stepping farther into the room, the soft scent of roses washed over him. Nervous energy moved through him at the same time his skin tightened, muscles deep in his gut clenched in pleasurable anticipation. The scent of roses had always filled him with wary trepidation, reminding him of the words of warning he’d been given as a child. Roses were a sign of death. Yet, ever since he’d met Glory, he’d associated the scent with her, leaving his body a mess of confusion.
A dressing table sat across from the bed with cosmetics and perfumes scattered across the surface as if she’d dressed in a hurry that morning. He felt like an interloper as he examined it. He should be checking the armoire and under her bed, but he couldn’t make himself walk away just yet. He gently ran his fingertips over a handkerchief she’d left blotted with rouge from her mouth. The shape of her lips stared back at him.
An Outlaw to Protect Her Page 3