by C. A. Asbrey
“Ow!” He flopped flat on his back. “You little—”
She pushed herself to a sitting position, brushing off the snow. “I’m a quick study.” She whacked a handful of snow in his face.
He lunged at her pushing her back into the snow. “You never know when to stop. Do you, Abi?”
“Like you’re any better?” She threw another handful of snow. “You think you’re getting away with pulling down a roof full of snow on top of me?”
He fell on her, pinning her to the ground and silencing her in a crushing kiss. His insistent lips increased their intensity, until every nerve was alight with craving. She drew up her hands and wrapped them in his hair, kissing him back with the same ferocity. The world went silent, like the gap between claps of thunder, crowded out by sensual want as they gave and took in equal measure.
A sharp voice cut through their passion, squelching the flames as surely as a wet mudslide.
“When you two are finished, there’s stuff to be done. A woman just died, remember?” They turned in unison, fixing on an irritated Jake who glowered over folded arms. “I’m ashamed of you.”
Abigail shook Nat off and sat bolt upright. “It’s not what you think,” she stammered.
“It’s exactly what I think,” he growled. “You’re ruttin’ like animals in the street. I’m no prude, but I expected better of you, Abi. You’re actin’ like a cheap whore. What would Clancy or the sheriff think if they saw this? Clancy’s mother-in-law is lyin’ in the undertaker’s with half her head missin’ and you’re cavortin’ in the snow.”
Her face froze in anger, the wound slicing deep into her fragile dignity. She climbed to her feet and dusted herself off, frozen flakes of ice falling from her clothes. Her words were conciliatory, but the delivery was clipped and as sharp as the gleam from her dark eyes. “You’re right. It won’t happen again. Not ever.”
She stalked off, Nat jumping to his feet and running after her. She whirled around, her fists clenched in tight knots of anger. “Leave me alone! He’s right. This is insanity. I’d never behave that way in any other sphere of my life. This is completely inappropriate. He woke me up to the craziness I almost embraced. I’m done here. The minute the railway is open I’m leaving.”
“But, Abi—”
“I told you to leave me alone. I’m going back to Clancy’s. From here on in, I’ll dress and behave like a lady.” Her eyes glittered with anger as she glanced from one to the other. “You two can do what you want. I’m done here.”
She turned on her heel and disappeared off into the murky darkness.
Nat strode over to Jake. “Who the hell made you head of morals around here? Do you know how long it’s taken me to get her to thaw enough to be, well, just damned normal? It’s the first time she relaxed and got playful, and you march in here and stomp all over it. Why?”
The blue eyes narrowed. “A woman died. I was there. It was terrible.”
“So? Is the whole world supposed to stop because a woman killed herself? You’ve seen dead people before, Jake.”
A spot of angry spittle landed on Nat’s face as Jake yelled back. “It eats me up inside when it’s a woman. They don’t go fightin’. They don’t deserve to die that way.”
“Did I say she did?” Nat bellowed. “Is that any reason to speak to Abi like that? You’ve undone everything I built up with her just because you feel squeamish about a woman you didn’t know.”
“She was a mother. Her brains were splattered all over the wall. It was like Mary, all over again.”
“Yeah, well when you go and see your kids, remember you stomped all over my chance to have the same with the woman I love.” Nat’s sharp finger jabbed at his uncle’s chest. “You crushed every ounce of faith and affection she had in me.”
“She’s dallyin’ with you. It’s never gonna happen.”
“Not now it ain’t.” Nat’s jaw clenched, his anger ripping the veneer of education from his accent. “You ain’t the only one who carries damage with them. She does too, and she was startin’ to come out of her shell. She talked about us goin’ off somewhere to live a quiet life and have a fresh start. I had a chance and you ripped it to pieces and threw it in my face!”
Jake paused. “She did?”
“Yeah, she did.” Nat turned, yelling over his shoulder as he went. “When she leaves here, I might just go with her and damn you to hell.”
Jake caught up and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Wait, you never told me—”
“Do I have to tell you every detail to get you to act like a human being?” Nat’s dark eyes glared at the gloved hand. “Move that, or I won’t be responsible for my actions. I’ve never felt more like beatin’ the hell out of you than I do right now. If you’ve ruined this, I’ll never forgive you.” A pointed finger punctuated his fury. “Not ever.”
Jake watched his nephew’s stiff back as he stalked off along the main street, his loosening gut a swirling maelstrom of regret, anger, and trepidation. He knew he’d been too sharp, and Nat would forgive him once the Irish in him calmed. Abi was a whole other matter. Nat was right about his outburst crushing the delicate shoots of faith and confidence. If Jake had driven a wedge between them, it could be the end of the only family he was still close to.
He thrust his hands into his pockets and glanced along the street toward the glowing lights of the saloon. There was no point in trying to speak to Nat until he calmed down. He shuffled an undecided toe in the snow, deciding to go for a drink. With any luck, Nat would be asleep by the time he got back. He could work on this tomorrow. Maybe the bottom of a glass could provide a few answers on how to win over the woman he’d just slammed unfairly. If not, it might dull the pain.
A woman’s character meant everything in this society; it was all men really afforded them, and he’d just stripped her of it as she made a tentative venture into their realm. No proud woman would walk into a world where people treated her so badly. Especially not a woman like Abigail MacKay.
Chapter Seventeen
“Good mornin’.” Jake walked into the dining room and nodded to Clancy. He nodded to Nat whose dark eyes were as bitter as burnt coffee as he refused to respond. Jake’s belly tightened as he braced himself to appear as normal as possible for Clancy’s sake. “How’s everyone?”
“Still a bit shocked,” said Jake.
Clancy poured Jake a cup of coffee. “But I guess we get on with things as best we can, huh?”
“Yeah.” Jake nodded, glancing at his nephew. “It always gets me when it’s women and children.”
“Me, too.” Clancy nodded. “What have you got planned for today?”
“Dunno, what do you say, Nat? We go and question the handymen?”
Nat shrugged and chewed at a crust.
“What’s Abi doin’?”
“She was about early. Before me,” said Clancy. “She looked like she had something specific in mind.” A door closed with a bang which resonated throughout the house. “That’ll be her going out.”
Nat stood, dropping his napkin on the table. “I’ll go and see. Have a good day, Doc.”
He strode from the room, leaving Jake and Clancy sitting in a thick silence filled only by the crackling fire and ticking of the mantle clock.
Clancy turned his perceptive gaze on his companion. “Is something wrong? You all seem a bit strange this morning.”
Jake’s face fell. “Yeah, I upset Abi real bad by lettin’ my mouth run on. Nat, too. I was dumb.”
Clancy nodded. “I thought there was an atmosphere. You all work in close quarters. Little things can seem magnified. It’s a tempest in a teapot. I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah.” Jake didn’t believe the platitude for a second. “I’m sorry. You have enough to deal with without worryin’ about us. It’ll be fine. It’s only a stupid thing. I’ll make it right.”
“What did you say?”
Jake hesitated. “I told them off for laughing. We’d dealt with Mrs. Williams. That kinda thing bothers
me, especially when it’s a woman. I guess they handle it better’n I do.”
“Is that all?” A smile cut through Clancy’s grim countenance, brightening it for the first time that morning. “Listen, everyone deals with shock in their own way. Doctors and undertakers are the worst for dark humor. It’s another way of coping. From what I’ve seen, neither of them are hard people. You must have come across it before now.”
“I have, but I’ve never handled it well when it’s women or kids.”
“There’s no right or wrong way. You process it any way you need to. It’s really not worth losing friends over. Talk to them.”
“It ain’t that simple.”
Clancy’s brow creased. “Why?”
The gunman dropped his head along with his guard. “Where’s the harm in tellin’ you? You’re a doctor. I saw my sister’s head smashed open after a bad fall when I was a little ’un. I took it real bad, and the sight of that woman yesterday brought it back.” His chest heaved. “I was real rough on them for livin’ and laughin’ when folks have lost loved ones. I let rip at Nat and Abi. The minute the words were out my mouth, I knew I was wrong. I cut Abi deep just for bein’ alive. What’s the point of life if you don’t live it? I’ve done some dumb things in my life, but my head was so far up my own ass I could see breakfast.”
“Go and find them. Tell them what you told me. Well, maybe miss out the bit about breakfast when speaking to a lady.”
Jake nodded, knowing getting them to listen would be the hardest part. “Yup, I guess I’d better finish the eggs and move on to a big dose of crow. Served cold. Real cold.”
♦◊♦
He saw her ahead, her dark skirts standing out against the frosty, achromatic whiteness of the landscape. She slithered at the corner and disappeared off to the right before regaining her footing and appearing once more. She was headed for Climax Hill, so Nat increased his pace to catch her. He cursed under his breath as feet slipped on the icy ruts of the main street, finding it better to wade through fresh snowfall than skid and slip over the hard, compacted ice.
His legs were longer than hers, so he gained on her until he was close enough for her to turn at the sound of the approaching scrunch of his boots through the snow. Her face was pale and pinched, the only color coming from the cold nipping at her nose and brightening her generous lips.
“Go away.”
“Abi, wait.”
“There’s nothing to say. I’m a whore. I now know where I stand.”
She skidded and grabbed at a hitching post, and scrabbled to find her footing. Nat kept to the virgin snow at the edges and quickly gained on her. “Damn it, Abi. The last thing you are is a whore. If you were, this whole thing would be a lot easier. Where are you going?”
She scowled. “I’m maintaining this charade, so you needn’t worry. I’m also going to get to the bottom of this, so I’m heading back to the hotel as myself to speak to the staff and the family. You can do whatever you want. Go to the saloon.”
“I want to help.”
“Then find a way out of town.” She struggled over to the gritted part of the street and started climbing the steep incline.
“Will you stand still for a minute, woman?” Nat lumbered across the ice toward her. “I’ve told Jake I’ll leave with you. I won’t tolerate any man treating you like that. If he hadn’t been my uncle, I’d have smashed him in the face.”
“How lovely. That’s just the world I want to be more immersed in.” Her stiff, upright posture was even more dismissive than her words. “It’s too late, Mr. Quinn. His words cut right to the bone. You bring things out in me nobody else does; stupid, dangerous, foolish things. I came here to find out what life would be like with you and I found out how the world would see me in one short sentence. Jake uttered it last night. I understand the world judging me harshly, but when your own family calls me a whore, I’m done. I won’t be treated like that.”
“And you never will be,” said Nat. “Never again.”
She turned to face him. “You’re in no position to make any such promise, but I can decide to remove myself from your world. It’s over.” She pointed up the hill. “I am going to the hotel. Do not follow me. I mean it. Our cooperation has ended. I’m done. Don’t push me. That would be the stupidest thing you ever do. Do you understand me?”
His eyes stung. “Abi, I love you.”
“Too late. You should have answered me immediately when I said it to you.” She blinked and dropped her head before staring him straight in the face. “You don’t love me. Not enough. You love the idea of me, the thrill of a challenge, but you didn’t want to do anything to achieve it. I asked you to come away with me, and you evaded it. I only matter when it’s convenient. I’ve got it. I’m a whore when I show affection in public. I guarantee, it’ll never be a problem again.” She stomped on, whirling around at the sound of his pursuit and barked at him. “Go! How can I make this any clearer? It’s ruined. It’s done. It’s over.” Her voice rasped with emotion. “I don’t want to see you again. I’m as done as I’ll ever be.” She tramped on up the hill, her voice carrying back to him as he stood stock still in the middle of the street. “And take your uncle with you.”
He watched her receding back struggle through the arctic landscape, continuing to climb the steep hill. A ball of lead sat in his gullet, but his resolve already ate into it. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
♦◊♦
“Abigail MacKay. I’m a Pinkerton.” She nodded over to the Sheriff Gibson as she faced the staff at the Regent Hotel. “He’s checked my credentials. I’m looking into the death of a man who was a guest here. Lymen Cussen? I need to speak to anyone who had contact with him, from the waiting staff to the chamber maids.”
The desk clerk shook his head. “It’s not a good time, ma’am. We had an accident here yesterday. We lost the owner’s wife in a terrible accident.”
“I’m aware of that. I was here yesterday. It was terrible, indeed.” Her eyes widened at the sight of an army of aproned women carry mops and buckets walking into the family quarters. “Already? They can’t clean yet.”
“Why not? The folks need to get their home back to normal,” Gibson answered.
“I haven’t given it a full examination yet.”
The lawman frowned. “What’s to know?”
“A great deal. Follow me.” She strode into the private rooms and yelled at the top of her voice, clapping her hands together to get their attention. “Ladies! Please stop for a moment.” She glared at the matron who continued to scrub. “You there, in the blue. That includes you. Stop right now, or I’ll have to get the law to do it.”
The woman in the blue floral frock, stood upright, the African Violets on her hat trembling with indignation as Abigail continued.
“I’m grateful for your help in this matter. We need a few hours to go over the room to make sure there’s nothing we missed. I’m sure the hotel staff will get you tea and coffee while you relax by a warm fire.”
The lawman’s mouth dropped open. “A couple of hours?”
“I’m afraid so. Details are vital.”
“But it was an accident,” said the desk clerk.
“The Pinkertons engage in the scientific method. It’s better to ensure you’ve covered everything, rather than miss the chance entirely.”
Gibson shrugged, noting the determined glint in her eye. “Jees, I guess we’d better do as she says, Dick.” The rueful desk clerk nodded in agreement. “Can you arrange refreshments? We’ll be as quick as we can.”
♦◊♦
“You see those splatters.” Abigail pointed at the bloodstained wall. “See the little tails on the spots. They indicate a direction of travel. In a gunshot wound, they splatter forward in a fine mist with a back spatter which has much larger drops. A Dr. Swinburne has been doing some work on that, as well as Dr. Bell.” She indicated the bullet hole. “We know what happened here. There’s no room for doubt. The point of impact is consistent with th
e victim sitting on the side of the bed and pulling the trigger. The powder burns show the barrel was right against her temple. Her skull fractured, and brain matter was driven against the wall, too. Her body found any outlet it could for the blood to be released, so it poured from her nose and ears. The eyes were forced forward by the power and protruded. She fell forward onto this rug, these footprints are also consistent with her husband rushing in and taking the weapon away from her. That’s common. It’s instinct.”
“So?” Gibson demanded. “We knew all of that. Why did we need to search?”
“I have to submit a report to show I looked at all the details.” Her dark eyes glittered at him. “But I need to search the rooms to see if I can find anything connecting Mrs. Williams or anyone in her family to Lymen Cussen. I can’t do that with the place full of women, and the family will want to move back as soon as it’s clean. Will you help?”
“Search? Sure. What are we looking for?”
“Anything. Letters, inscriptions on jewelry, writing on the endpapers of books showing they were an award or a gift from him or anyone from San Francisco.”
“Books?” The sheriff’s baneful eyes scanned the groaning bookcases. “All of ’em?”
“All of them. Now where do you want to start? How about Constance’s room.”
“Nuh-uh.” The sheriff waved the idea away. “I ain’t goin’ through a young woman’s unmentionables. It ain’t decent.”
“Fine.” Abigail cleared the lamp from the nightstand so she could move it away from the pool of blood for examination. “I’ll start here, then do Constance’s room. You do the big bookcase in the living room, then the desk. Let me know if you find anything.”
♦◊♦
She’d been through everything in the bedroom and found nothing of note. Mrs. Williams was no hoarder, but her lack of sentimentality was starting to worm into Abigail’s brain. She kept little from her own past; sure, there was everything from her marriage, her daughter, and from building up the hotel. But nothing from her parents, her childhood, or her early life.