Wistful in Wisconsin

by Marisa Masterson

  Frowning, Charity spoke with fervor. “That’s why I have to find a way out of this myself. After his training, I should be able to handle this.”

  Changing the subject, Lilah poked her booted foot at the woman. “Well, let’s try the knife. If I hold it, you could rub your ropes against it.”

  Above, the creaking sound alerted them to the fact that someone had opened the two doors that covered the slanted entry to the cellar. Footsteps thudded on the steps leading down to their prison. The person was close enough now that Lilah glimpsed the glow from what she thought was a lantern.

  When the man stepped into view, Lilah nearly giggled with relief. Help had arrived.

  Breathy with joy, she burbled out, “Mr. Ledbetter, thank goodness! I’m so glad you found us. Is Fred right behind you?”

  The man smiled at her. Something in the look reminded her of a hyena she’d seen in a menagerie. It raised gooseflesh on her bound arms.

  He released a low chuckle. “Thank goodness is right. Thank goodness your husband isn’t right behind me. Then he’d find you and ruin my plan.”

  Finally, her training in deportment and composure at the day school for young ladies of quality seemed valuable to Lilah. She summoned up memories of her teachers and imitated one particularly prissy instructor.

  “Why ever would you need to have a plan that included me, sir? We barely know one another.”

  He sighed, as if in regret. “That won’t change, my dear woman. You will be leaving soon to join a former acquaintance. His brother, Mr. Hansen, will take you to him.”

  Nothing he said made sense. At least it didn’t until it suddenly did. Make sense, that is. She remembered moments of unease around the deputy. Times when she’d stared at him and struggled to remember of whom he reminded her.

  The man at the brothel!

  Ledbetter wheezed an eerie chuckle. “Yes, I see you recall the brother. Seems you cursed him and his family. I agreed to arrange for Hansen’s brother to escape the prison. Now, both men are anxious to force you to take back that curse. As well as punish you, of course.”

  The man’s free hand contracted into a fist. “Women need punishment. I’m happy to see two more receive their due.”

  He was insane. That must be why the lawyer was willing to work for Strong.

  Lilah soothingly reasoned with the man. “Please, Mr. Ledbetter. You can’t do what Mr. Strong wants you to. It’s not ethical for a lawyer to behave like this.”

  His brow wrinkled as he held the lantern high. “Strong. What does that pompous fool have to do with this?”

  Suddenly, understanding curved his lips upward into that feral smile. “Oh, you thought he was in charge of this gang.”

  That wheezing chuckle softly echoed around her and through her head. Lilah realized they’d all been fooled by the mayor. Mild-mannered and efficient, the mayor/lawyer had been behind this scheme to procure unwilling girls for the brothels.

  “Yes, I see you understand now. I shouldn’t have come, but I did want you to know who the boss was. After all, you hired the Pinkertons to discover that, didn’t you?”

  When Lilah stayed mute, he growled and moved forward. Gripping her hair tightly around his left fist, he shook her roughly. “Didn’t you?”

  Tears poured down her cheeks as Lilah nodded silently. Again, he shook her braid, bringing a gasp of pain from her. “Yes,” she screamed.

  He dropped her head. Lilah worked to swallow the cry of pain when her injured cheek slammed against the hard, earthen floor. The man enjoyed her pain too much to let him see it.

  “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, detective.” He said the word with derision as he focused on Charity. “My contact from a brothel in Michigan is on his way. By tonight, you’ll be off to your new home.”

  Not waiting for a response, the man moved to the stairs. “Goodbye, ladies. Please, don’t bother to thank me for the plans I’ve made for you both. It was a pleasure.”

  Charity yelled a curse word at his back. Something that brought a cry from Lilah.

  “What’s wrong with you? He deserved that.”

  Lilah gave the woman a sad smile. “Maybe. But now’s a time for prayer, not profanity.”

  With a harrumph, Charity’s lips thinned. “I’ve never prayed before. Why should I think God, if he does exist, would hear me?”

  Quietly, Lilah pleaded for words to answer Charity. After a silent moment, she softly shared her thoughts with the other woman. “I’ve seen blessing after blessing from the God who I know hears me. He’s told me he cares about you, too.”

  Charity’s lovely mouth twisted into a sneer. “Just how did he tell you that?”

  At that moment, Lilah wished she could reach her arms around the other woman. “There’s a verse in the Bible that told me. Maybe you’ve heard it. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son--”

  Harshly, Charity interrupted. “What does that have to do with me?”

  At least she was interested. Encouraged, Lilah answered softly. “You’re part of God’s creation. Special. Even if you were the only person in the world, God would have sent his son to be your savior.”

  Lilah read doubt and longing on the face turned her way. She continued tenderly. “Another verse promises that God loves us with an everlasting love. He’s waiting for you to get to know his son so you can experience that love.”

  Charity shook her head. “Maybe. But now’s not the time.” She reached stiff fingers to Lilah’s boot. “Let’s get out of here. Then, I’d like to hear more.”

  Nodding, Lilah worked her foot out of the boot. “You find the knife while I pray.”

  She didn’t bother to pray silently. Lilah wanted Charity to know how she spoke to her Lord. She prayed for success and their safety, but also thanked the Lord that her baby was being cared for and fed. She praised Him for providing the knife in her boot as well as allowing Charity to be there to use it so they could escape.

  All the while, Charity struggled, dropped, and again grasped the boot, working the lining up from the bottom. When she finally gripped the thin knife, she marveled aloud, “I can’t believe you could walk with this in there.”

  Lilah stopped praying and also looked at the knife. “It’s made with a very thin handle and blade for that very purpose. Back in Chicago when I met with him, your uncle helped me find it. Thank God.”

  Wiggling against Charity’s leg and back, Lilah managed to sit up. In position, she gripped the knife in cold fingers. Holding it as tightly as she could, Lilah waited.

  Charity moved the rope near her waist against the blade. “Yow, I cut myself.”

  Warmth ran over Lilah’s fingers. It was only a small trickle so she encouraged her companion. “Keep going. I don’t think it’s very bad.”

  Wiggling and moving as if she were scratching her back against a board, Charity worked the rope against the finely honed knife. At a sudden easing of the rope, she whooped with joy.

  “It’s cut through.”

  Lilah watched her move her shoulders and arms as the ropes loosened on Charity and fell away. The girl moaned in pain as she raised her arms and then lowered them, shaking them to get the blood moving.

  After untying her legs, Charity focused on Lilah. “Maybe there is something to that praying thing. I can’t believe that little, thin knife actually cut through a thick, hemp rope.”

  Feeling a wide smile spread across her face, Lilah nodded. “Miracles happen, and often for me. They’re the blessing my heavenly father gives me, if I only look for them.”

  Charity wasn’t able to work the knots of Lilah’s rope free. In the end, she sawed on them with the knife. It took longer than before since the other rope it had cut dulled the knife, with Lilah receiving several small nicks. They were worth it as Charity helped her to her feet and the ropes fell from her slender body. The only benefit to not being very curvy—the ropes fell away easily.

  Lilah watched Charity head to a pile of metal. The woman picked up a
piece of pipe, not quite a foot long. She waved it experimentally and smiled. “This will work as a weapon.”

  For herself, Lilah gripped the knife Charity had dropped. Perhaps they wouldn’t need weapons. There might not be a guard at the top of the stairs. After all, if Ledbetter wanted to remain inconspicuous, he wouldn’t leave a man guarding a set of cellar stairs.

  Shrugging, Charity’s hands tightened on the makeshift weapon. “Doesn’t matter. If I get near Ledbetter, I’ll pay him back for this shiner.”

  Stopping, Lilah’s mouth gaped. “The mayor hit you?”

  “I don’t know if he’s the mayor, but the man you called Mr. Ledbetter slugged me.”

  Lilah clucked her tongue. “That man has the whole town fooled. I would never have guessed at the streak of cruelty that runs through him.”

  Nothing more was said after that. They moved silently, slowly up the stairs. Lilah cringed as Charity threw back one of the doors and rushed out, brandishing her pipe.

  No one shouted or grabbed for them. Lilah recognized the street they were on. Her own house was only a block away. So close to home and in so much danger that she shook her head at the irony.

  Charity stared at her. “Where to now? I don’t know this town, remember.”

  Considering that, Lilah frowned. “Hansen might be at the sheriff’s office so we can’t go there.”

  After a moment, she hissed, “Follow me. I think I know where we can get help.”

  Lilah and Charity sidled close to houses and sheds as they made their way through the street. When they came close to Idyll Wood’s main street, Lilah moved to the back door of a business and knocked. When no one answered, she knocked louder and longer this time.

  Merrilee Sittig appeared in the doorway. Her eyes rounded. “Lilah. You’re supposed to be kidnapped. Fred got a note that said so.”

  After the tension of the last hours, Lilah laughed and it felt good. “Should I go back to the cellar where they put me?”

  The other woman grabbed her new sister-in-law in a tight hug. “Oh, it is so good to see you.”

  Then Merrilee pulled back. “But somehow, we have to get to Fred. He’s leaving town with the men Mayor Ledbetter organized.”

  Charity snorted, bringing Merrilee’s attention to her for the first time. “Hello there. I’m Merrilee Sittig, and I bet your Charity Morrison.”

  With a shake of her head, Charity corrected the woman. “No, my name is Charity Melrose. But, my uncle’s last name is Morrison.”

  Merrilee nodded. “That must be why I remembered your name wrong. He’s been here with the sheriff discussing you. Since we run the mercantile, my husband and I hear and see a lot that happens in town.”

  Lilah watched Charity’s face take on a glow. “He must have left Chicago just after me to be here already.” She looked at Lilah. “Could be this is another of those miracle blessings you believe in.”

  “Yes, I’d say so. And I think we’ll see a few more before this business is done.”

  Chapter 10

  The Boss

  James Strong refused to ride with the men. “Why would I leave town when the election is happening?” He’d growled his response at Mayor Ledbetter. That man only nodded meekly, not willing to push the banker.

  Fred felt revulsion for both men creep like acid up his throat. The lawyer especially repelled him. Always had. Something seemed off about him. No man could always be that meek, not if he meant to make a living on the edge of civilized territory.

  Ignoring them both, Fred turned to the men grouped around him. His deputy, Cully, stood nearby. Hansen, though, was absent. In fact, no one could find him that morning even though both he and Cully had searched for the man.

  God willing, his ungrateful, rude deputy had left town, and Charity Melrose would be found here, left behind. Fred would rather not have to deal with the man. When he saw him, if he did, Fred knew he needed to fire Hansen. Or maybe, he’d need to arrest him.

  Looking out over the group of about ten men who’d volunteered to search, he began gesturing. “You three stay together and head south. Stinson, you’ll be the leader.”

  The older man nodded. “Come on you two. Let’s get horses and head out.”

  Fred assigned two more groups to the east and west, saving the north for himself and Cully. The farm lay north and he wanted to look at the buggy tracks. Maybe he would see something that Holder had missed.

  Morrison stayed behind, intent on watching Strong’s movements. Fred didn’t argue even though he doubted the banker would give away anything that might help the detective. He’d watched the man for weeks and hadn’t picked up on anything to connect him to the disappearance of girls. Nothing, that is, except the use of his buggy by Hansen and Murphy’s spying at Strong’s request.

  That hardly constituted enough evidence to arrest the man. The spying was easily connected to the election. The buggy could have been borrowed without the banker’s knowledge. Hansen was crafty enough to lie to the livery owner and say he had permission to use the vehicle and the horses.

  No, Fred didn’t think Morrison would learn anything by watching Fred’s opponent. A suspicion had bloomed in his sheriff’s mind as Fred watched the men this week. Something was off about the mayor. He warranted studying. Fred would recommend that to Morrison before leaving town.

  Stinson’s helper led Fred’s tall gelding to him. Cully already stood with the reins of his horse in hand, ready to ride out. At a nod from his boss, the deputy and Fred both mounted.

  Skirting around the knot of people in front of the mercantile, he rode carefully. Once they were clear of the group, Fred touched his heels to his horse, asking for greater speed. Hooves flew as they raced north.

  Frantically waving arms had him pulling back on the reins, struggling to stop. For over a year, Carl had acted oddly. Fred had been sure that was all in the past, so why was the man jumping up and down like a crazy person?

  Cully flew past him with a dumbfounded expression twisting his face. By the time the deputy turned his horse and came back, Fred had dismounted and grabbed his younger brother by the collar.

  “What’s up with you? Relapsed into the crazies?”

  Carl wriggled free from the grip on his shirt and scowled. “Lay off. I got someone here you need to see.”

  Figuring Carl had a witness Fred needed to interview for clues to Lilah’s whereabouts, he gave a short bob of his head. Carl turned and stomped through the back door of his store, obviously still miffed about Fred’s roughness.

  Inside the dark storeroom at the back of the mercantile, Fred squinted as he peered into the gloom. “So where’s this witness?”

  “Witness? I’ve got your wife, brother!”

  Relief. Joy. Need. They rushed through Fred like a bucket of warm water. He watched as Lilah stepped out of the shadows, followed by a black-haired girl.

  His wife looked at him shyly. He didn’t hesitate, catching her up into a hug that lifted her feet from the floor. In front of God and company, Fred captured her mouth in a fierce kiss that softened almost immediately. He groaned as he continued to taste joy and love on her lips.

  Pulling away, he memorized her face. Even in the dimness of the storeroom, he recognized the damage done to her cheek and scowled. “I’ll find the man who did this to you. Tell me who.”

  Whimpering softly, Lilah hugged him tightly now around the waist. “I only saw the mayor. He’s the one who hit Charity.”

  Fred’s gaze reluctantly left his wife’s face and turned to the other victim. She nodded. “Yes, Ledbetter. He’s the head of the bunch. But also a man named Hansen.”

  With a brief tip of his chin downward to let the Pinkerton agent know he’d heard her, Fred’s eyes again drank in the sight of his wife. Squeezing her, he bent his head and whispered a prayer of thankfulness into her ear. She softly said, “Amen.”

  Turning to his brother, Fred grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, Carl, for being rough back there.”

  “Okay, you’re forgiv
en. Now, what do we do about the mayor? He’s sent most of the men who might help you out of town.”

  “Go outside and find Morrison. He’ll be in the shadows somewhere near the banker. With his help, that makes four of us who know our way around a gun.”

  A snort brought all eyes to Charity. “Five. Give me a gun.”

  Fred nodded. “Five. That is, if you have guns and ammunition for us, Carl.”

  “Gladly.” Carl snickered, “I think I’ll charge them to the mayor’s account. I’m sure the banker will settle up from that man’s funds once this is over.”

  Each told Carl what weapon he or she wanted. Fred didn’t want to reveal himself yet, since he supposedly rode out of town so none of them went into the store to pick out the weapons. Charity surprised him by asking for a palm pistol, something only recently invented. With the girl’s brashness, he’d expected her to want a Colt or a shotgun.

  Once the five were armed, Fred embraced his wife again, kissing her soft hair. “Stay here. Hidden and safe. I can’t focus on what I need to do if I’m afraid for you.”

  She gave him a lopsided grin since her cheek was swollen. “I am your helpmate. If that’s the help you want, who am I to argue?”

  After a gentle squeeze, he pulled away. He was still close enough to make out her muttered words.

  “I knew it! He wants me as his wife.”

  Who was Fred to argue with the truth?

  “And I tell you, when I’m sheriff men won’t be running in all directions! I’d know where to send a posse and lead it myself.” Strong puffed up his rounded chest as he finished his campaigning.

  A voice from the much smaller crowd heckled, “So why don’t we see you on a horse leading the men now?”

  Awkwardly clearing his throat, the banker harrumphed. “Well, I need to be here for this election. It was just bad timing that the girl was snatched when the voting was scheduled.”

  Grumbles of disbelief and irritation spread through the crowd. A rock flew out of a nearby hand and narrowly missed Strong’s ear.

  “Tell us what will you do about that, Mr. Sheriff Wanna-Be!”