by Craig, Emma
Dmitri lifted his head as if praying for patience to some esoteric Russian saint, and said, “Gladiola. Market.”
“Right. Right. I remember now.” Gabriel raced out of the train station and hailed a cab, and only then discovered that Dmitri wasn’t with him. So he had to waste five minutes rushing back into the station, finding him, and then rushing back to the cab, dragging Dmitri by the arm. It was his own fault. Dmitri had little tiny legs. He couldn’t keep up with Gabriel’s long pins. Knowing that, it was all he could do to keep from yelling at Dmitri for being slow.
He was losing his mind.
“Damn her.”
Dmitri rolled his eyes for approximately the hundredth time that day. Gabriel knew he was being irrational—and couldn’t help it.
* * * *
Sophie couldn’t stand sitting in a hotel room with Juniper, who was still behaving in a totally atypical manner, and waiting. She’d tried pacing, but found Juniper’s icy observation of her passage around the room extremely off-putting. She’d tried reading, but that lasted only seconds.
Too nervous to read, she strode to the window, pulled the curtain aside, and peered out onto the crowded street below. Ah, this was better. She would survey the street. That’s what she’d do. San Francisco was an interesting city. She’d always enjoyed visiting San Francisco. Joshua had adored it.
At this particular time, it would be best if she didn’t think about Joshua’s last visit to San Francisco, Sophie decided after she’d begun to breathe again. She made a resolution that she would only consider the scenery and not think about Joshua at all, for the preservation of what was left of her sanity and composure.
So, naturally, she could think of nothing but Joshua.
Looking out at the scene below, she saw a woman holding a little boy’s hand. The little boy was skipping at his mother’s side—Sophie felt sure the woman was his mother. She imagined he was singing, as Joshua used to do. He’d loved to sing. So had she, when she could do it with him.
“Blast,” she whispered and pressed her fingers against her eyelids, trying to blot out the memories.
“You know in your heart that what you’re doing is wrong.”
Juniper’s hard, crisp voice startled Sophie so badly that she whirled around. Oh, good God, she was dealing out the cards. If she started lighting candles or praying, Sophie would surely go mad.
She took a deep breath and commanded herself not to shriek at her aunt. Juniper loved her. Juniper had loved Joshua. The fact that Juniper didn’t understand Sophie’s compulsion—indeed, her clear duty—in this instance was too bad, but there wasn’t anything Sophie could do about it.
Slap, slap, slap. Sophie’s nerves jumped every time Juniper placed a card on the table. She never dealt the cards with that fevered intensity. Whatever was wrong with her?
Lord, she was laying them out in the Celtic Cross pattern, too. That meant Juniper was reading the cards for Sophie—and Sophie didn’t want to know anything Juniper saw depicted therein. She didn’t believe any of it, anyway, and today she really, really didn’t want to hear Juniper preach cards at her. Sophie couldn’t bear it. Not today.
Juniper slapped an Ace of Spades on the table, and Sophie couldn’t watch anymore. Don’t say anything, she silently begged her aunt. Just don’t say anything at all. She felt more fragile than she had since the day Joshua died. She had a feeling that if Juniper said one little word, she might shatter into tiny, prickly shards of pain.
She arms crossed over her stomach and hugged herself, wondering again what ailed Juniper, who was normally the gentlest, most loving creature in the universe.
But that was silly. She was wrong with Juniper. She was the problem here. Her very presence was disturbing to the calm atmosphere that pervaded any space into which Juniper inserted herself. Now Sophie, with her hate and anger and determination, was ruffling Juniper’s peaceful waters.
Very well. Sophie knew Dmitri’s train wouldn’t arrive in San Francisco until later in the afternoon. If she waited for him here, she’d only upset Juniper and frustrate herself. Therefore, she would—she would take a walk.
“I’m going out, Juniper.”
Juniper frowned at her. This was the first day in her whole life in which Sophie couldn’t recall Juniper smiling once. She said nothing.
Sophie grabbed a lightweight summer coat and slipped it on—San Francisco’s famous fogs could render evenings cool even during the summertime—and donned a plain chip hat. She changed her footwear because she knew she’d be doing a lot of walking and didn’t want her feet to hurt.
Before she left, she opened her handbag and withdrew her Colt Lightning revolver. When she glanced up, she saw Juniper, her lips set, watching her.
Lifting her chin, Sophie said, “I want to be prepared for any eventuality.”
Juniper sat silent for a moment, the Knave of Hearts and the Queen of Spades clutched in her fingers. Then she said.”No, you don’t. You want to murder another human being.”
It was too much. Sophie’s temper flared out of control like a skyrocket gone wrong. “That’s not fair! I’m going to achieve justice for Joshua.” The words burst from her in a white-hot rage.
Juniper said quietly, “You may lie to yourself, Sophie, but you may not lie to me. Joshua no longer has anything to do with this craze of yours.” Her comment seemed to float on air still pulsing with Sophie’s fury.
The words reverberated in Sophie’s ears, overpowering her own furiously shouted declaration. Or was it a lie?
God, she was losing her mind.
“I don’t care what you think.” She opened the cartridge and made sure the gun was loaded, and carefully replaced it in her handbag. She lifted her small notebook and flipped to the page containing Ivo Hardwick’s San Francisco address.
“I know you don’t care what I think, Sophie.” Juniper’s voice held a world of sorrow. “There’s no room in you any longer for anything but your own hate.”
“Nonsense.” She snapped her handbag closed, made sure her hat was securely pinned to her French knot, and headed for the door. With a tug so hard, the knob almost came off in her hand, she opened the door and was about to walk away from Aunt Juniper without another word.
Compunction struck Sophie, hard, in the heart, and she turned at the last minute. She saw tears standing in Juniper’s eyes and realized how difficult this was for her aunt. She licked he lips, feeling terrible.
“Listen, Juniper, I don’t want us to be at odds. Won’t you please give me your blessing?”
Juniper wiped her eyes. “I—I can’t, Sophie. I can’t bless what you’re going out there to do. I can wish you love and happiness and respite, and I can pray that you’ll find peace somehow, but I can’t bless your present endeavor, because it’s wrong.”
Sophie tried to recall another time when Juniper had remained obdurate in the face of a family member’s request for a blessing, and couldn’t. For all of Juniper’s seemingly flighty mannerisms and frivolous ways, she was a woman grounded in pure goodness. Juniper didn’t lightly refuse a request. Sophie’s chest hurt like fire, but she wouldn’t let her aunt know it. It took all of her self-will to smile. “Fine, then. Will you at least wish me well.”
“Of course. I do wish you well, Sophie. Always.”
Before she could start crying and ruin her exit, Sophie said, “Thank you, then,” and left. Her eyes blurred the street in front of her when she got to it, and she walked blindly forward for almost a mile before her emotions steadied and she managed to contain her tears.
Striding like a soldier going off to war, she sucked in heaps and heaps of San Francisco’s distinctive smells. Baking bread, incense, fish, salt water, chocolate. Uniqueness was San Francisco’s stock in trade.
She marched to the wharf, past ships that lay to, strung with fish drying on ropes hung across their decks. She strode past coils of cord smudged with creosote lying in seemingly haphazard piles. She passed crab sellers, fish sellers, oyster sellers.
> On and on she walked. She didn’t care where she walked, as long as she walked. She thought about Joshua. He’d loved to come to the wharf, eat crabs, and watch the birds. Pelicans and seagulls perched here and there and dove into the water. They’d seen an albatross once. Joshua had particularly loved the seals that would float in the water, begging for food from people standing on the pier. They’d tossed fish to the seals. She could almost hear Joshua’s squeals of glee.
“Oh, please stop it,” she begged her errant mind. Why did it dwell on Joshua? Her heart throbbed with missing him. Why couldn’t people really die of broken hearts? It wasn’t fair that she’d had to go on living after Joshua’s death, with her heart torn in two but still beating.
Somehow, though, the notion of killing Ivo Hardwick didn’t soothe her today as it always had before.
Juniper. It was Juniper’s scolding that had tainted her purpose. Sophie drew herself up and tried to convince herself that this was a momentary bump in her road. A hitch. A—what did people who liked to hike up mountains call them? A switchback? Yes, this was a mere switchback, and when she’d walked long enough, she’d be back on course again.
Gabriel Caine thundered into her brain as if on a white charger, and Sophie knew she’d been lying to herself. Again. She’d treated Gabriel horribly, and he would be perfectly right never to speak to her. The man she loved. The one man in the world who might possibly have been able to assuage the ache of Joshua’s loss—and she’d ruined any chance they’d ever had of creating a life together.
Momentarily unable to go on, Sophie leaned on the railing and stared out into the bay. Gabriel. She’d lost Gabriel as surely as she’d lost Joshua, only she’d done it herself this time. Ivo Hardwick hadn’t wrenched Gabriel away from her as he’d done Joshua. She’d shoved him away all by herself.
She watched a pelican flutter to rest a few feet away from her on the railing. The bird eyed her as if assessing her ability and willingness to feed it. She’d have been glad to throw it a fish, but she didn’t have one handy.
“So you ruined it, Sophie,” she told herself, frightening the bird into edging farther away from her. “You might as well at least do one good deed.”
Her handbag seemed to weigh down her arm. When she’d finished with Ivo Hardwick, she wouldn’t have to carry a revolver around with her anymore. Maybe she’d come back here and toss it into the bay. With a nod, and feeling as if the weight of the world were on her shoulders, Sophie turned and walked away from the wharf. Her feet knew the way to Chinatown, and she let them take her there.
Chapter Twenty
Gabriel feared his heart would burst before the hotel room door opened and Miss Juniper’s familiar gray head peeped around the jamb. “Oh! Mr. Caine!”
That was all he heard before Tybalt bolted out from behind Juniper and leaped up on Gabriel’s trousers leg, yipping with joy and recognition. The dog was making too much noise to allow anyone else to speak, so Gabriel bowed to the inevitable.
Bending and petting Tybalt, he crooned for a moment. As soon as Tybalt had proffered a sufficient greeting, he trotted back into the hotel room with his curly tail lifted, pleased with himself for doing his job well. Gabriel watched him, then turned his attention back to Juniper.
He couldn’t tell if she was pleased or not. Removing his hat, he said, “How do, Miss Juniper? I’m glad I found you.”
Juniper brightened when she spotted Dmitri. “Oh, Dmitri, you made it. Was everything all right in Los Angeles?” Her smile tipped a bit, and Gabriel realized she was uneasy about something to do with Los Angeles. He probably should ask, but was too rattled about Sophie.
“Uh, Miss Juniper, I really need to find Miss Sophie. Do you know where she is?”
As soon as Juniper directed her pretty blue eyes at him, Gabriel knew something was wrong. His heart hitched, reeled, and staggered about for a moment. “What?” He almost shouted. “What did she do?”
Heaving a big sigh, Juniper said, “Nothing yet, I hope, but you know she will.”
Damn. “Yeah. I know. Do you know where she aims to do finish this job of hers?”
“Oh, dear, I wish I’d not been so angry with her. I might have got her to tell me. Won’t you come in so we can discuss this, Mr. Caine?”
He didn’t want to. Every nerve in his body was primed for action, not sitting around and talking. The truth of the matter was, however, that he didn’t know where to go. It would accomplish nothing to hare off, as he felt like doing, since he hadn’t the least idea even which direction to take. He tried to sound at least moderately gracious when he accepted Juniper’s offer. “Yes, thank you.”
Dmitri walked into the room as well, and sat on the edge of a chair. Juniper sat in the other chair, leaving Gabriel the bed, so that’s where he sat, and cleared his throat.
“So, you have no idea where she went?”
Juniper gave a hopeless shrug. “I only know she’s determined to kill Mr. Hardwick, but I don’t know where she aims to accomplish the fell deed.”
“Right.” Gabriel turned to look at Dmitri, who gazed stolidly back at him. “She didn’t give you any hints, did she, Dmitri?”
As it had been doing all day long, the little Russian’s head shook back and forth. Damn. Gabriel cudgeled his brain, trying to think of something cogent to ask. “Uh, did she happen to mention that man she hired to look for Hardwick?”
“Mr. Huffy?” Juniper thought for a moment, then shook her head, too. “I’m afraid not, Mr. Caine. She didn’t speak of him to me.”
Damn. He glanced at Dmitri, who still shook his head.
“I did, however,” Juniper continued, making Gabriel jerk his head around, “hear them speaking together at the train station when we arrived her in San Francisco.”
Gabriel surged up from the bed. “You heard them talking to each other?”
Juniper winced.
“Sorry,” said Gabriel. “Didn’t mean to shout.” Hell, he hadn’t meant to do nine-tenths of the idiotic things he’d done today.
Juniper gave him one of her sweet smiles. “I understand, Mr. Caine. You’re worried.”
That was putting it mildly. He smiled back at her, sure his own attempt wasn’t nearly so sweet. “Right.”
“Yes, well, I did hear them begin to speak, at least. I didn’t stay to listen, because I wanted to get to the baggage. And, I must admit, although it’s not to my credit, that I was by that time very put out with Sophie.”
It had taken her long enough. Gabriel couldn’t say it. “You were?”
Juniper nodded sadly. “Yes. I finally lost my temper, and told her I thought she was dead wrong about this determination of hers to kill Ivo Hardwick. I told her I didn’t think that was any way to honor Joshua, but it was putting her on the same level as Hardwick.” Her head snapped up, and she looked at Gabriel as if she’d committed high treason. Slapping a hand over her mouth, she cried, “Oh!”
Gabriel, touched by Juniper’s tremendous love and patience with a niece who’d been through insufferable grief—and had, as a consequence, started behaving insufferably herself—said, “It’s all right, Miss Juniper. I know all about Joshua.”
Juniper slumped for a moment before she sat upright again. “Sophie told you?” She sounded as if she didn’t quite believe it.
“Under protest. I—guessed a good deal of it first.” He opted not to mention the stretch marks, as that would open a whole new can of worms.
“Oh, dear. I had hoped she’d told you of her own free will. If she’d done that, you see, it might signify a softening of her heart.”
This time it was Gabriel’s turn to shake his head. “She’s too stubborn for that, I’m afraid.”
“Yes.” Juniper heaved another sigh. “I fear you’re right.”
“But you said you overheard some of Sophie and Mr. Huffy’s conversation?”
“Yes.”
“Did either one of them mention a hotel or a meeting place or somewhere that sounded like a location where Sophie m
ight be headed?”
“Well, I’m not sure.” Juniper tapped the side of her nose with a slender forefinger. “I can’t remember if it was—oh, dear, what was it? I know she said something about Chinatown.”
“Chinatown?” Cripes, she wasn’t going to try to hire a bunch of tongs to slice Hardwick into bacon, was she?
“Yes. Washington Street and—oh, dear.” Juniper scowled, giving her the appearance of a child pretending to be angry. “It began with a B.”
“What began with a B?” Gabriel was getting confused.
“The street.”
“I thought you said it was Washington.”
“Well, yes, but it was near another street that began with B.”
There was a big help. Again, Gabriel tried to will something into being—this time, whatever was lost in the jumble of Juniper’s mind into a recognizable street name.
“Oh, dear, I can’t recall.”
“But you think it begins with a B?”
“Yes.”
“And it’s in Chinatown?”
“Yes.”
Gabriel glanced at Dmitri, who looked as confused as Gabriel felt. Well, a B was better than nothing. “Thanks, Miss Juniper. I’m going to do my best to intercept Sophie before she can get herself arrested.” He thought for a moment before he added, “Or killed.”
“Killed?” Juniper gazed up at him with huge, frightened eyes.
“I’m afraid Ivo Hardwick isn’t your basic model citizen. He’s killed before, and he’s not got any morals. At least none that you can point to and say to yourself, ‘that’s a moral,’ if you know what I mean.”
Juniper pressed a hand to her cheek, and her face drained of color. Gabriel wished he’d kept his last observations regarding Hardwick to himself. “But I’ll do my best, ma’am.” He started toward the door, but Juniper’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“She loves you, Gabriel.”
He turned around, sure he’d misunderstood. “I beg your pardon, ma’am?”