“Not the fact that he’s dedicated every single erotic novel to the mysterious V, the love of his life,” Victor said dryly.
Virginia didn’t cross her arms or plant her hands on her hips. She didn’t raise her voice. In fact, she barely spoke above a whisper. But the low whiplike intensity made even her sadist son stand to full attention. “I don’t give a damn what people think. I won’t have him thinking for a moment that I’ve abandoned him, or that I’m ashamed of him for any reason. He’s mine and I’ll be there for him and he’d by God better dedicate another twenty or thirty books to me before we die. I will not let him down!”
A broad smile cracked the stony facade of her son’s face. “Then what are you still doing here, Mama?”
Vicki jumped up and hugged her. “Oh, Mama, I’m so happy for you. You deserve a little joy and companionship.”
Virginia let the giddy smile shine all over her face. “He’s been so good to me. I have to be there for him.”
“I have an idea.” Shiloh stood too, a little hesitant but with a wicked glint in her eyes. “If everyone’s going to assume you’re Victorious anyway…”
Virginia laughed and wrapped an arm around both her daughter by blood and her soon-to-be daughter by marriage. “Then I should definitely look the part.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Shiloh said, giving Victor a nod.
He stepped out and quickly returned with a duffel bag of goodies, along with what looked like Miss Belle’s infamous parasol. “Grandma must have left this behind. I didn’t see it in the hallway when we first came in, but it must be hers—I couldn’t find one that matched it in our costume department, though we packed some other options in case you were open to the idea. Vicki’s already cleared her schedule to go with you and we’ve got two first-class tickets leaving on the next flight out of Dallas.”
Shaking her head fondly, Virginia took the parasol. A note had been stapled to the fabric. For V.
Virginia? No. Victorious. “That crafty old bat. How on earth did she…?” Virginia blew out a sigh. “Never mind. By the way, if anyone’s looking for a Christmas or birthday gift for me, you can get me one of those fancy tablets so I can read all of Jeb’s books.”
Victor came over and planted a big kiss on her forehead. “Happy early birthday, Mama. That’s your brand new tablet.”
She leaned against him for a moment, relief and gladness and joy bubbling up out of her until she wanted to simply yell. “Thank you, all. For understanding, for helping, for being here. Thank you.”
Chapter Twenty
The Lady Always Gets Her Man by Chris Waters
Naturally, the mayor of Halltown lived in the largest house, on a hill overlooking the rest of town. Without any other nearby houses—that might sully the mayor’s view—Ransom had taken cover beneath the stone bridge that carried all town traffic up to the mayor’s abode. Wet and dank and dark, his hiding place was far from comfortable, but at least he was out of sight and the water was low, barely a trickle. So he could easily hear footsteps or riders as they approached.
The jingle of spurs was unmistakable. Granted, there were probably a dozen other cowboys in town who might wear spurs, but Ransom thought it was a pretty safe bet to guess the sheriff stood on the bridge above him. A waft of cigar smoke told him that Brazen was at least going to stay a few minutes where he could smoke in peace, and more, that Victorious wasn’t with him.
It wasn’t long before Ransom heard another person approaching, this time following the stream down the hill rather than the road. Grateful for the darkness, he pressed his back against the stone. As long as the watcher hadn’t seen him crawl under the bridge an hour ago, no one would be able to see him now. He hadn’t used the road himself, but had used the trees sprinkled along the banks for cover.
“You got anything?” Brazen asked in that slow, distinctive drawl.
“Nope.” Ransom didn’t recognize the other man’s voice. So the sheriff was watching the place. But was it to catch the thief who’d taken the mayor’s money…or was he after the Specter too? “Just the ladies. Mrs. Townsend took the carriage into town earlier, all dressed up in her finery, but Mr. Townsend is still home as far as I know. Tommy’s been watching the back and didn’t signal.”
“So no one’s gone in, no one’s gone out other than his wife. Who’d she go out with?”
The other man’s boot scuffed on the stone, as if he was killing time or trying to find a way out. Finally he answered, “Miss Raynes.”
Ransom stiffed. Why had Victorious been out here without him?
“No one else.” Brazen said flatly.
What scam was Victorious up to, then? The woman Ransom knew despised the kind of casual and cruel arrogance so typical of the rich. She sure wouldn’t be calling the mayor’s wife a friend. But then he’d never seen her wear such well-to-do and proper clothes. She said she had a good life now. Did that mean calling on the mayor’s wife for tea and going shopping?
Shopping? Victorious Raynes?
“Nope,” the other man replied, even though Brazen’s tone didn’t seem surprised. “You want me to head into town and find where they went?”
Brazen tossed his cigar butt into the stream. “Nah. You go on back and keep an eye on the house. Mr. Townsend’s still your target.”
“You did read her file, right?”
Shit. Evidently using her real name hadn’t been the best idea after all. I’ll have to get her out of town tonight.
“Yep.”
“She killed a man in Missouri.” The other man kept his tone careful, but he had to be a friend or close associate to push so hard. “Once a woman’s got blood on her hands…”
“You got your orders.” Brazen didn’t raise his voice, but the man took the hint and headed back up the stream.
Ransom didn’t move a muscle, waiting for the sheriff to take off too, but his muscles vibrated with urgency. He had to find out where that carriage went. If he got to her first…
“You can come on out now, Mr. Savage.”
His hand automatically settled on his gun. He didn’t want to kill the man, not if Victorious loved him. But he might not have a choice. I have to get her away. Even if she hates me the rest of her life.
He didn’t hear a gun cock, though. So maybe the sheriff wouldn’t shoot him on sight. Yeah, and maybe he loves Victorious enough he won’t arrest her despite the warrants.
Somehow that didn’t make him feel better.
He pushed away from the wall and edged along the bridge, keeping cover as long as possible. He peeked up over the side of the bridge and was vaguely disappointed that the sheriff wasn’t even looking at him. In fact, he was faced away, elbows braced on the rough wood railing as he stared down at his quaint little town.
Stepping up onto the road, Ransom joined him. “How’d you know I was down there?”
“I smelled you.”
Gaping at him, Ransom resisted the urge to smell his pits. Sure, he’d spent the previous night out on the range, but he’d bathed at the hotel before he went to Victorious’s shop. “I beg your pardon, sir, but I take great pride…”
Brazen looked over at him and started laughing. Not the polite how-do-you chuckle at a pleasant joke, but a deep belly laugh that was too natural and open to get Ransom’s hackles up. “She loves French perfume. Dead giveaway, Mr. Savage.”
Growing up dirt poor with nothing but the tattered rags on her back, Victorious loved luxurious things, even if they made her feel so guilty that she became physically ill if she splurged more than once in a blue moon. She’d never spend that kind of money on herself…but she could absolutely and happily accept a gift from a loving friend who just so happened to notice her dreamy gaze when she caught her first whiff of good-quality perfume. To make her feel better about the extravagant expenditure, he’d bought the male version for himself as well. Wearing her f
avorite scent made him feel closer to her, even if he hadn’t seen her in over a year.
Then an unpleasant thought occurred to him. “When did you first smell me?”
Brazen’s eyes narrowed, his face hardening. “How long have you been in town?”
Ransom gave him a small tight smile. “I asked first.”
“I noticed the similarity in your perfumes at her store.”
“That’s why you wanted to know if I knew her.”
Brazen shrugged. “One of the reasons. Are you going to look me in the eye and lie again? Or would you rather help Miss Raynes?”
“That depends on how you want to help her.” Ransom took up position beside the sheriff and mimicked his pose, staring down at the town. “Are you going to arrest her?”
“Now why on earth would I want to arrest my fiancée?”
“Because there are warrants out for her arrest and that’s your job, Sheriff?”
Brazen gripped the railing so hard his fingers started to turn white. “There are warrants out for your arrest. And, if I’m being completely honest, mine as well. Are you going to turn me in, then, Mr. Savage? Call in the Marshals? One word of my past in Chicago and the goody-two-shoes in Halltown will run me out with pitchforks. Meanwhile, Miss Raynes is attempting to corner the Specter on her own.”
“You…”
“Yeah, I know about the Specter. Every lawman in Texas has been hunting for him and just about every gunman with hopes of sterling recommendations and clear records as well. Which is why the delightful lady is here, yes? And you as well? Or are you just here for the gold, Mr. Savage?”
Ransom turned and faced the sheriff. “I came for the gold, but I stayed for the lady.”
The other man slowly straightened and turned to him as well. Not many men could look Ransom in the eye for long. For one thing, he was taller than most. Then, of course, there was his deadly reputation.
Brazen stared back at him levelly, and much to his dissatisfaction, Ransom had to tip his head up slightly to keep his gaze on the other man’s.
Tipping his hat back, Brazen grinned and offered his hand. Ransom took it, and this time they actually shook hands instead of simply squeezing each other to see who’d flinch first.
“You know she sent you out here to watch a dead end,” Brazen said as they headed down the road. “Right?”
“You know she suspects you of working for the Specter, right?”
The sheriff muttered beneath his breath. “I thought you left town.”
“I did,” Ransom made his voice as light and cheerful as possible. “But as long as Miss Rayne’s here…”
“She agreed to marry me.”
“That was before she knew I was riding into town.”
“So are you admitting you know her from somewhere?” Brazen strode so hard that his spurs made a constant jingling tune. “Did she leave you, or did you leave her?”
“Point taken,” Ransom grumbled. “But that doesn’t mean she’s going to marry you either. This…” He waved his hand, encompassing the whole town. “This isn’t her. The shop, the proper dresses, that fucking ugly parasol. Victorious Raynes isn’t…”
“She’s a lady.” Brazen lowered his voice to a hard growl. “My lady.”
“I never said she wasn’t. But there’s a side of her that you don’t know. A side that I do. I know it very well.”
Brazen clamped a hand on his arm and dragged him to a halt. “How well?”
Ransom looked down at the fingers on his arm and then pointedly back up at the sheriff. When he only squeezed harder, Ransom decided to push back. There was one sure way to warn the man off if she hadn’t revealed her true nature in the bedroom. “She show you her crop yet?”
Brazen’s eyes narrowed. But his nostrils flared.
Not yet, Ransom decided, but the man wasn’t appalled. Not at all.
He’s interested.
Crap.
He jerked free and strode just as furiously down the street, though he wasn’t sure where they were going yet. “Maybe you’d better bring your handcuffs to bed next time. She’d probably put them to good use.”
Brazen stepped up beside him. “I’ll keep that in mind. This way.”
“Where…” Finally it dawned on Ransom where they were headed. “Her store? Why?”
“Don’t you think it mighty odd that the town’s finest womenfolk want to hang out at the general store, when the proprietress’s past has no doubt been gossiped about all over town?”
The man had a point. Even he’d thought it rather scandalous for the lady she was trying to play to dine at the saloon, even with the sheriff. “Not when Victorious is there. She has a way with people, even snooty rich ones.”
“Maybe. Or maybe Mrs. Townsend is using that shop for something underhanded.”
“Beneath Victorious’s nose? Never.”
Brazen halted at the corner. The Halltown General Store sat on the opposite side of the street and sure enough a fancy carriage sat outside. “Maybe Miss Raynes is her willing accomplice.”
Ransom didn’t want to believe it. Couldn’t. But she had sent him to watch the mayor’s house. If she suspected the mayor’s wife was their connection to the Specter…and never told him…
What if she was playing both men? Convince the gullible sheriff she loved him and would happily marry him. Convince the ex-lover they’d run off into the sunset together completely free and clear, the nation’s heroes after stopping the Specter. While the whole time she had a direct connection with the Specter’s true agent and never said a word.
He couldn’t help but remember what he’d overheard while Brazen talked with the other man. She killed a man in Missouri.
She helped me rob a bank and then robbed me blind after fucking me into oblivion. She hid from me so well I couldn’t find her for more than a year. She stayed ahead of the law at every step of the way.
Exactly like the Specter.
Could Victorious…?
Something slammed into his head and he fell to his knees. His vision swam to black, even though he tried to blink. Tried to see who’d struck him down. He collapsed, hitting his head on the wooden planks of the walkway again. Fireworks exploded in his skull, deafening him. But he did manage to make out the footwear of his attacker. Boots. Not delicate little slippers. Or a pink parasol. Sinking into unconsciousness, he couldn’t help but smile with relief. Even if he never woke up again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Standing off to the side of the podium, Jeb tried to look everywhere but the crowd. He’d planned to wear his best suit for the occasion, but his agent had convinced him at the last minute to wear a nice but simple pair of black jeans, an outrageous pair of boots he’d bought in Dallas on the way to the airport, and, of course, the fancy Serratelli hat.
“Just keep it simple,” he muttered under his breath. “You only need to say a few words.”
Nerves gnawed away at him like nasty, starving rats. He touched his talisman, the ancient engagement ring he’d been carrying around with him all these years. He’d tucked it in his pocket without the box, unable to face making a speech if he didn’t have it close, where he could touch it and imagine that someday, she might be sitting in the audience clapping for him. While she wore his ring.
“And the winner in the erotic category: The Lady Always Gets Her Man by Chris Waters!”
Applause echoed in the large room. He put on his biggest smile and strode up the steps to the podium. Then because he was playing the part of the dashing Ransom Savage, he took the host’s hand, bowed low and kissed her knuckles. Smiling at the audience’s roaring approval, he accepted the award and turned his attention to the crowd.
In the front row, directly in front of the podium, sat Victorious Raynes, the legend herself.
He could only stare at Virginia and wonder how she’d gotten the
re. How she’d known. And she looked…
She wore a long red wig, the wild mane of curls just like his book cover. A white satin corset hefted her breasts and cinched around her middle so tightly he might be able to span her waist with his hands. A long-sleeved poet’s blouse in soft pink covered her injured arm and made her look soft and feminine without being too frilly. Instead of jeans, she wore black jodhpurs and shiny knee high riding boots with the pink parasol laid across her lap.
In her right hand, she gripped a riding crop. He could only assume it was the very same one she’d used on Ty for more than twenty years.
Her eyes were soft and full of longing, shining as brightly as when she’d ever spoken about her husband, while she still managed to give Jeb the hardest, most intent look she’d ever given him. The kind of look that said you’re mine and I’m going to do whatever the hell I want with you and you’re going to love every minute of it.
The kind of look he’d been aching to see in her eyes his whole life.
The longer he stared, the more people turned to see what had captured his attention. The whispers rose, spreading across the room, and some savvy cameraman took note and turned the camera on her. As soon as her image appeared on the large screen behind him instead of the book’s cover, applause broke out again, louder and wilder. She smiled at him and it was all he could do not to jump down off the podium, scoop her up and carry her to his room.
He held up both hands, which only made it look like he was surrendering to her custody. The crowd only laughed and clapped more. Smiling and shaking his head, he kept his hands up. “Thank you, everyone. I’m honored to be here today…”
“We want Victorious!” someone shouted from the crowd, and they took it up as a chant, calling her name.
She met his gaze and raised her eyebrow, silently asking if he wanted her to join him, with a little nod to confirm she was willing.
She’s willing to attach herself to me in public. In the guise of a character from my book. Knowing what people will think. What they’ll know as soon as they see the way I look at her. And she’s willing to do it anyway.
Never Let You Down: The Connaghers, Book 4 Page 15