"But Nate has the money to stop them," Annalisa said.
"No one has been able to find Nate to tell him what’s happening," Hattie Lee said softly. "Francine rode out to his plantation today. There was no one around. The bank intends to foreclose tonight."
Annalisa held a hand to her mouth, stifling her cry of alarm. "Chase, put me down."
Seeing the look in her eyes, Chase reluctantly set her on her feet.
"You know what we have to do," she said, her eyes pleading for understanding.
Chase rubbed a hand over the stubble that darkened his chin. As weary as he was, he knew there would be no rest this night.
Nodding, he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Go to bed now, Annalisa. I’ll take care of it."
"I think I should go with you."
"I’ve always handled this alone." He realized the others were watching them, and listening. It no longer mattered. "You’re exhausted. Without some sleep, you won’t be able to stay on your feet."
"But this is for Nate. It’s important to me that his property be saved from foreclosure. I want to go with you."
"I gave you my word a long time ago that I would act as messenger." His voice lowered with command. "I can move faster alone. Besides, I want your assurance that you will let the doctor and Hattie Lee take care of your wounds. You’ve been through too much. You’re pushing yourself beyond the limits."
She frowned in the face of defeat. "All right. I’ll go to bed as long as I have your promise to see this through. You won’t let me down?"
He studied her for long, silent minutes. What would it take to convince her? "You can trust me."
Trust. Annalisa stared into his dark eyes and thought about the conversation shed overheard last night. Then just as quickly she dismissed it. He had saved her life. They had been to hell and back. They had been in the grip of the devil and escaped him. For whatever reason, Chase had been there when she needed him. She had no choice but to trust him one more time.
Chapter Thirty
What was left of the setting sun was an orange haze dipping below the waters of the Mississippi. The air was so heavy with moisture it tasted of rain. Heat lightning danced on the horizon, flickering in the swiftly gathering darkness. Chase, dressed all in black, mounted a fresh horse and headed for the wharf. Though worried, his mind was more at rest, knowing Annalisa was safe and in the competent hands of Dr. Lynch and Hattie Lee.
She had fought him. Knowing how obstinate she was, he hadn’t played by the rules. But it was the only way he knew to force her to take care of herself. The doctor would give her something to help her sleep, and while she rested, her body would heal itself.
The news about Nate Blackwell’s financial affairs puzzled him. Nate was a wealthy man. Though much of his property had been destroyed during the war, he was hard-working, ambitious. The crops he had planted were producing more than enough to pay the outstanding debt on the plantation. In a few more years the land would be operating at full capacity. The improvements on the boat must have been expensive. Why would Nate spend the money on such luxuries if he were unable to pay his back taxes? Nate’s ship had been spotted several times late at night. The cargo it carried was rumored to be men, strangers to Louisiana. Yet Nate claimed that the ship never left the harbor. Something was very wrong. None of this rang true. Yet, Chase thought, urging his horse faster, he had promised Annalisa.
Annalisa. What a remarkable woman. He had never known anyone with such strength of will. With each day, he loved her more. And yet he had steadfastly refused to allow her to get too close to his private life. Despite their lovemaking, he had selfishly kept much of himself from her. His hand clenched around the reins. He had kept the truth from her for too long. Originally he had thought her ignorance of the facts would guarantee her safety. Now he knew better. As long as Montagnet continued to wield power, Annalisa would never be safe. The madman had to be stopped for good. And when he was, Chase promised himself, he intended to go to her with the facts. In that moment, they would both be set free.
Hearing the slap of waves against the shore, Chase dismounted and tied his horse. From this point on he would have to go on foot in order to avoid detection. His first stop would be Nate’s ship.
The closer he got to the wharf, the stronger his feelings grew that something about this deal was all wrong.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, reminding Chase of the boom of cannons. The sound of war would probably never leave him. Walking soundlessly through the tangled growth of vegetation that grew at the water’s edge, he ducked down as a light came into view. Oars dipping, a flat-bottomed boat rounded a bend in the river and sliced silently through the current. As the boat glided out of slight, Chase stood and made his way to where Nate’s boat was docked.
For long minutes he waited in the shadows, watching the vessel bobbing in the water. There was no sign of life aboard. Patting the package of money wedged firmly in his pocket, Chase darted across the wharf and climbed over the railing of the boat. Flattening himself into the narrow strip of shadow, he moved stealthily toward the prow. Every few feet he paused to listen for any sign of trouble. The night was quiet. Despite the heat he felt a sudden chill. Too quiet. There were none of the usual night sounds. No night birds cried. No voices of drunken sailors floated out on die breeze from the decks of other boats. Why hadn’t he noticed it before coming aboard? The hair on the back of his neck rose. It was all wrong.
Turning, he began to run for the rail. A figure stepped from the shadows. Chase felt the cold metal of a pistol pressed against his throat.
While other men caught and pinned his arms, Charles Montagnet’s voice sounded triumphant. "Monsieur Masters. We meet again. Odd, is it not? We went fishing for the Archangel of Mercy. And in our net we find—you."
* * *
Annalisa lay still while Dr. Lynch poked and probed the gash on her head.
"You may have suffered a mild concussion. We don’t know much about head injuries yet. Some people seem to recover immediately. Others suffer headaches, fainting spells, dizziness." He held up his hand. "How many fingers do you see?"
"Doctor." She hated this fuss. She wanted to be left alone. "I can see perfectly well."
"How many fingers?"
She let out a sigh of frustration. "Three."
"Very good. Now I want you to drink this powder in a little water."
"Why?"
"It will help you sleep."
She turned her head aside like a recalcitrant child. "I don’t want it."
"Take your medicine, child, and stop wasting the doctor’s time." Hattie Lee loomed over her, waving a glass and spoon.
"You take it, Hattie Lee. I can sleep perfectly well without it."
The doctor’s voice was patient. "You’ve been through a terrible ordeal, Miss Montgomery. Your sleep may be punctuated by bad dreams. This potion will help you sleep soundly."
"No, doctor." She turned her head away in firm refusal.
Glancing at Hattie Lee, he shrugged and closed his bag. "I’ll stop by in the morning." He touched Annalisa’s arm. "I hope you manage to get some sleep."
"Thank you, doctor."
Annalisa listened as all the way down the stairs Hattie Lee lectured the doctor about allowing his patients to overrule him. With a weak smile, she pulled the blanket around her shoulders and closed her eyes. She needed no powders or potions to help her sleep. It was enough to be lying between clean satin sheets in her own bed, knowing she was far away from the clutches of Montagnet. When Chase returned, and only then, would she sleep.
She heard the low hum of voices, the clatter of carriage wheels as Dr. Lynch drove off. A few minutes later she heard the thrum of horses’ hooves and the din of voices raised in alarm. More alert, she recognized Nate Blackwell’s voice.
Sitting up, she listened as the words grew louder. Swinging her feet to the floor, she searched for a shawl to wrap around her immodest nightshift. Before she could reach the door of her room, it was flu
ng open.
"Nate. I was just coming down." Seeing the look on his face, she felt her heart begin to race. "What is it?"
"The others just told me the news of the latest foreclosure. It must be a mistake. There are no taxes owed on my property."
"Are you certain? Could there be some debts incurred while you were away?"
"Annalisa, take my word for it. There are no debts on my land."
"But why would the bank threaten to foreclose on your boat as well as your property?"
He shrugged. "I have no idea. Maybe it was Willis’s idea of a joke."
Watching him, the truth suddenly dawned. "Or a plot to trap the Archangel of Mercy. Thank heavens Chase found you in time."
"Chase?" Nate gave her a blank look. "What are you talking about?"
"Chase has been our intermediary."
Nate continued to stare at her without comprehension.
Annalisa gave him a knowing look. "There is no longer any need to hide the truth from me, Nate. I know. I’ve known all along that l’Archange de Miséricorde is you."
Nate caught her hands and led her to the bed where he gently forced her to sit. "Hattie Lee told me about your ordeal, Annalisa. I can see that you are more distraught than you realize. You must be exhausted. You make no sense."
She felt her patience beginning to snap. "Stop treating me like a child. You and Chase. You continually treat me as if I haven’t a brain in my head. I know that you’re the mysterious benefactor who has been going around giving money to the needy. When I figured it out, I made a bargain with Chase. I would pass along any information to him, and he would in turn take it to you. We’ve been working together for many months."
"Annalisa." Nate held her cold hands in his and gave her a gentle smile. "I have no knowledge of this Archangel. I admire him greatly. But I assure you, I am not he. And as for Chase Masters, he has never come to me with information."
For the longest time, she simply sat and stared at Nate, trying to comprehend all he had said. At last she gave a long sigh. "You are truly not the Archangel?"
He shook his head.
"And Chase has never come to you with the information I gave him?"
Again he shook his head.
"But each time I told him about a foreclosure, the family in question received the necessary sum of money. That means that either he gave the information to someone else, or . . ."
Nate watched her, trying to piece together what she was saying. ". . . Chase himself is l’Archange de Miséricorde!"
Clapping a hand to her mouth, she stood and began pacing. "Oh Nate. It’s a trap. Don’t you see? They set out to trap the Archangel. Chase. And I’ve sent him to his death."
* * *
The women’s voices were a babble of protest. In their midst, Annalisa, wearing a black gown, her hair tied back in a snood of black lace, ignored their arguments while she pulled on black kid riding gloves.
"Chérie, what makes you think you’re any smarter than Chase Masters? If he walked into a trap, how can you possibly get him out of it?" Gabrielle wrung her hands and wished with all her might that James Lynch were still here. He would talk some sense into her.
"Think what you’re doing, child. Are you going to just ride up and start shooting?" Hattie Lee stood, hands on hips, staring at Annalisa as if she were addled.
"Send for the chief of police, Annalisa. He’s our friend. He’ll find a way to save Chase."
At that, Annalisa rounded on Eulalie. "I don’t know whom to trust anymore. Even the police chief is suspect. I’m handling this myself."
"I’m going with you," Jessie said.
"So am I." Luther picked up a rifle and began checking it.
"Have you all gone crazy?" Hattie Lee asked indignantly.
Annalisa felt a wave of relief. She would trust these two friends with her life.
"I’m going, too."
Everyone glanced at Nate Blackwell. His face was pale, his hands unsteady. "I think it’s time I faced my fears squarely," he said.
Francine, with eyes brimming, handed him her carbine. He touched a finger to her cheek, then handed the weapon back to her. "I prefer this," he said, indicating his pistol. "Confederate army issue. It saved my life more times than I care to count. I vowed that I would never use it to kill again. But I think our lives are in as much peril as they were during the war."
Francine’s lips quivered, but she held back the tears. "God go with you, Nate." Now what had possessed her to say a thing like that?
He gave her a lingering look, then turned away. The four made their way to the barn and saddled their horses. As they rode away, the women stood on the front veranda, watching until the figures had faded into the darkness.
As they made their way toward town, they heard the sound of horses’ hooves approaching. Pulling into the woods, they watched as a half-dozen hooded men passed by.
"The terrorists are back," Annalisa whispered. "And this time, without Chase’s leadership, they hope to finish what they started before."
Jessie touched her arm. "We can’t leave the women alone. I’ll take care of them, Annalisa. With Luther’s help, we can finish them and then join you and Nate at the wharf."
She nodded. "Hurry, Jessie. The women aren’t expecting this attack. They’ll be unprepared."
Urging their horses through the woods, the two men disappeared into the shadows.
"Francine is there, Nate," Annalisa said softly. "You should be there with her."
"I want to be. My heart is torn. But I think Jessie and Luther can handle this. I can’t let you go into unknown danger alone."
Did he know what courage it took to choose between Francine, the woman he obviously loved, and the needs of a friend? Annalisa felt her heart overflowing with gratitude. "I knew I could count on you, friend. Come on then," she said, spurring her mount.
When they reached the wharf, Annalisa and Nate tied their horses, then began searching for Nate’s boat. They were dismayed to see the lights of its cabins far out on the river.
"It’s sailing," Annalisa cried.
"But I gave the crew no such order." Nate began pacing the docks. "Who took my boat out? And why?"
"These men need no orders from you to do their dirty work. This way, they can kill Chase and dump his body overboard. And who’s to know?" Annalisa felt tears sting her eyes at the thought of Chase, alone, trapped.
"Are you needin’ a boat to ferry you somewhere?"
Annalisa and Nate stared at the flat-bottomed boat that drifted silently toward the wharf. Standing in it was Emile Soulet. Perched on his shoulder was Delia’s cat.
"Emile!" Annalisa felt a surge of hope. "Can you take us out to Nate’s boat?"
"I’ve been watchin’ that vessel," Emile said, giving her a hand as she stepped down into his boat. "Strange things are goin’ on there tonight."
"What sort of strange things?" Nate leaped aboard, and sat down quickly as Emile began poling away from the dock.
"Men. Strangers I never saw before were unloaded, while a few others stayed on board. The boat was in complete darkness until it was away from shore. And I’ve heard gunshots."
Annalisa’s heart stopped. Gunshots. Chase. "Can you pull alongside that vessel without being seen?"
The beefy man shrugged. "They may have posted guards. But I’ll try."
When they were within a few feet of the boat, Emile lifted his pole from the water and motioned for the others to lie flat in the boat. Drifting closer, he reached for a rope that dangled over the side of Nate’s large vessel.
"Think you’re agile enough to climb aboard?" he asked Annalisa.
She took the rope in her hands and began pulling herself up. When she reached the rail, she peered over the edge, then, seeing no one, pulled herself over. Instantly, Nate followed.
"You take this deck," she whispered to Nate as she fell over the railing. "I’m going below."
"Annalisa." He touched her shoulder. "These men are armed."
"So
are we," she replied. "And we have the element of surprise on our side."
But there are only two of us, Nate thought. A headstrong woman and a war-weary coward. There was no sense putting his thoughts into words. He was certain he could never dissuade Annalisa from her plan. And besides, she was already scurrying below deck.
In the flickering light of lanterns, Annalisa made her way cautiously, alert for any sound. Voices, low, angry, caused her to pause outside a cabin.
"Where do you get the money to help these strangers?" Annalisa recognized Willis’s voice.
"I’m a very wealthy man." It was Chase’s voice, low, taut with anger, and slightly slurred from pain.
Annalisa strained to peer through a tiny crack. All she could see was Chase tied in a chair. Blood streamed from a gash above his eye. The front of his shirt gaped open. His chest was spattered with blood.
For a moment, Annalisa felt faint. Dear God. They were going to kill him before her eyes. Taking deep breaths, she fought a wave of nausea. Think. She had to think.
"Who was working with you?"
Annalisa struggled to see the speaker. How many men were in there with Chase?
"I work alone."
"You can’t believe a word this liar says. Someone had to give him the exact amounts these people owed. Someone who had access to that information."
Annalisa felt her heart sink. The man speaking was Montagnet. Once again, they were dealing with the devil himself.
As she watched, Montagnet held her stolen ledger toward Chase. "What does this code mean?"
When Chase said nothing, Montagnet moved menacingly closer. "I need to decipher this code. Then I can blackmail the good citizens whose names appear in this ledger." He struck Chase hard with his pistol, then rasped, "Tell me."
"Go to hell."
Annalisa saw Montagnet press his pistol against Chase’s temple. Swallowing back her fear, she boldly threw open the door to the cabin and lifted the rifle to her shoulder. "Throw down your weapons and surrender. We have this boat surrounded."
Willis turned deathly white and slumped onto the edge of a bunk. Montagnet glowered at her, while the other two men, strangers to her, looked to Montagnet for direction.
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