by Iris Kelly
Willard dutifully made his way back to Zachary’s saloon. It was a quiet night—no surprise. His boss was talking to the bartender.
“Mr. Scott. There’s somethin’ mighty interestin’ happenin’ over at Dusty’s. You ever heard of Flamin’ Annie?”
“Everybody’s heard of her. What! You tryin’ to tell me she’s over there?”
“In the flesh. Although she’s goin’ by another name. You know how that goes. But the place is packed. Everyone wants to have a look. She’s makin’ out pretty good. And she’s a fine lookin’ woman. You might want to have a little look-see yourself.”
“I intend to do just that.”
Zachary strolled over to the rival saloon. He was going to have to put a stop to this. There was too much money at stake to take this lying down. If Flamin’ Annie was going to draw the customers anywhere, it had better be his place.
From the moment Zachary walked in, proprietor Dusty Bellows gave him the evil eye. He knew exactly what Zachary up to. Their eyes met across the crowded saloon, and Zach’s gloating grin left no doubt as to his confidence in the outcome of this tug-of-war. Flamin’ Annie was going to become his asset, and no one should even think about standing in his way.
Dusty couldn’t even entertain the possibility of a fight. Zachary Scott had a way with the ladies, no two ways about it. At least he had been able to cash in for a single evening. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be in town for long. Because he was going to lose business every night she was here.
Zachary turned his attention to the star of the evening. Her table was surrounded by a gawking audience and the saloon was filled to capacity—standing only available. It was an entertaining spectacle. He enjoyed two complimentary beers while he waited.
The time was flying by for Abigail. She felt a surge of exhilarating energy keeping her afloat. The game, the audience—it felt like a challenging high-wire act, and she needed to rise to the challenge. However, that didn’t mean that she needed to close the place down. When someone mentioned offhandedly that it was close to midnight, she thought it advisable to make her exit.
There were many appreciative smiles and compliments as she made her exit. Even the men whom she won money from seemed to comfort themselves that at least they had a great story of how they’d been beaten that night. Zachary intercepted as Abigail made her way to the door.
“Ma’am, allow me to introduce myself. Zachary Scott.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Scott.”
“I own The Double Whiskey, the best saloon in town, not five minutes from here. I think you’ll find more opportunities in my establishment than Dusty can have for you here.”
“Such as?”
“I’m always lookin’ for a few good house players. Not that you don’t know how to pull in the money. But there’s some games like Faro that are mighty risky. You bring in crowds like this, I can defray some of your losses.”
Abigail nodded in thoughtful consideration as Zachary led her out into the cool night air.
“Why don’t you show me where your place is, and maybe I’ll stop in tomorrow?”
“Excellent. Right this way, Miss . . . I heard you weren’t goin’ by Annie anymore.”
“Mr. Scott, every once in a while, a snake’s got to shed her old skin. The name’s Abigail Norris.”
“Very wise, Miss Norris. Bet they’ll be callin’ you Flamin’ Abigail in no time.”
“Aren’t I the lucky one?”
“Here we go. Here’s my place. It’s a little quiet tonight. But you stop by tomorrow, and it’ll be packed wall to wall. Come a little early, and you and I can talk over a few possibilities.”
“Till tomorrow, Mr. Scott.”
“Oh, can I give you a walk home, Miss Norris?”
“I appreciate your thoughtful concern. But I have a good gun and a good aim. Have no fear for my safety.”
“I sure do admire a lady who can look after herself.”
“Good night, Mr. Scott.”
“’Night, ma’am.”
He watched her walk away until the night swallowed her up. Mmmph. What a fine lookin’ woman.
CHAPTER SIX
Abigail was not surprised to see lanterns on Miss Mabel’s boardinghouse porch. It was thoughtful of her to keep the lights on until Abigail got home. What she was not expecting was Sebastian and Miss Mabel waiting for her in the parlor as if they had never moved since she left them four hours earlier!
“Mr. Knight, I cannot believe you are still here.”
“Miss Norris, I . . . uh, no, I haven’t been here this entire time. But I couldn’t turn in until I had assured myself of your safety.”
“And Miss Mabel. You are still up as well. I’m sorry to put you to any trouble.”
“Don’t be frettin’. I don’t need all that much sleep these days. And breakfast is always a mite late on Saturdays. So why don’t you have yourself a seat and tell us about it?”
Being the center of attention was something that Abigail could get used to, and she was dying to talk about her evening.
“Let me start with a little bit of good news. I can restore your seed money to you, Mr. Knight.”
“Oh, you have some left? Well, you should hang onto it for the next time.”
“Oh, but I have forty dollars of profit here that can be used for that purpose.”
Miss Mabel let out a loud whistle. “What’d you do, rob someone?”
“I happen to be a very decent card player, Miss Mabel. And tonight, I had luck on my side as well. Men make terrible decisions when they’ve been drinking a lot. Speaking of which, you should have seen this one gentleman. He did most of his playing at the Faro table, but everyone was talking about him. He lost two hundred dollars in a single night. And apparently, he loses a similar amount every time he plays. It’s a fortune. Who has that kind of money to lose?”
“Was he cheated?” Sebastian wondered.
“No reason to think so. Everyone loves Faro, but it’s not a game you can control. No skill in it, but it’s popular. I’m sure I’ll be dealing plenty of it tomorrow night when I accept Mr. Zachary Scott’s invitation to be subsidized at his card tables.”
Sebastian’s jaw dropped. This was precisely what they had hoped and planned for, but who knew it would happen so quickly?
“Did you stop in his saloon?”
“No. He came to find me. This Annie enjoys a great popularity. He wants me to be a house player—he thinks I can pull in the crowds.”
Sebastian leaned back in his chair in thoughtful surprise. “No sign of doubt or suspicion?”
“Why would there be? What proper lady in her right mind would masquerade as a shady cardsharp with a murderous reputation?”
“Nothin’ but craziness comes outta Boston, that’s for sure. Now, Mr. Knight, it’s time to kick you out. Come back for flapjacks, if you like. Nine o’clock. But right now, it’s time to turn in.”
“Of course. Of course.”
They all rose.
“Ladies.”
Abigail felt a flush of pride as he left. She had really managed to impress him. Now the impossible task of trying to get some sleep.
“Git!” Miss Mabel commanded.
Head swirling with the events of the evening, Abigail lay in bed and enjoyed replaying them over and over again until exhaustion finally had its way with her.
*****
The following evening began with a great deal more confidence than the previous one. Abigail knew exactly what she was walking into, and she had the advantage of invitation and reputation proceeding her.
A morning tête-a-tête with Mr. Knight had prepared her to drive a hard bargain with Zachary Scott regarding the terms of their partnership. Nothing less would be convincing.
The Double Whiskey was significantly larger. But the more striking difference was the women, not that Abigail hadn’t noticed a few fallen doves over at Dusty’s. But they made themselves inconspicuous, flirting quietly and disappearing to back rooms, never more th
an two or three about at the same time.
But this saloon was dripping with their presence. Clearly, they represented no small portion of the business’s profits. All ages and sizes, mostly attractive, and all of them as friendly as can be. But Abigail passed closely by enough of them that she thought she detected quite a bit of forced gaiety. They regarded her with more than a little curiosity. A couple of them were shockingly young.
Abigail spotted Zachary by the bar and made her way over to him. En route, she was cheerfully greeted by several familiar faces from the previous evening—as if they had known each other for years! It was certainly far from the mysteriously dark underworld she had been anticipating. She responded breezily, flirtatiously, and was aware that Zach’s eye was fixated on her. There was so much socializing to be done that it took a few minutes before she was actually able to get over to him.
“I told ’em you was likely to stop by. That’s why there’s such a crowd.”
“This is quite an establishment, Mr. Scott. Very impressive.”
“That means a lot comin’ from you. I’ll bet you seen some mighty fine saloons. ’Specially out in Frisco.”
Abigail raised a knowing eyebrow and shrugged. Best not to get too deep into a discussion about a city she had never laid eyes on.
“What’s your poison?” Zachary asked.
“Root beer will be fine.”
“Wise choice. Most of them fellas drink so heavy, they cain’t even keep track of how much they lost. Which is good for us. Why don’t we have a seat over here on the side and talk some business?”
Abigail nodded, and they were soon at the negotiating table. Zachary’s offer was to put up fifty percent of her gambling money, and then they would share the losses evenly, but he would take sixty percent of her profits.
“Mr. Scott, I think it’s obvious how much supplementary income my presence is going to bring to your establishment. Your share of my winnings will pale in comparison. Seventy-five–twenty-five.”
“Boy, you don’t want much, do ya? Nobody gets that.”
“Nobody can fill this place up the way I can.”
“Hmmph. Maybe I see your point. I guess I’ll be up plenty with the drinks and the girls. Seventy–thirty.”
“Done,” Abigail said, realizing that Zachary needed the satisfaction of naming the final offer. “Shall we start with fifty each tonight?”
“All business. I like that,” Zachary said. “Let’s find a table and get you set up.”
Once Abigail’s Faro table had been established, it filled up in an instant—with another dozen players clamoring to replace them after they went broke. Abigail’s interest was piqued to see the man at the table that the other players had talked about having such large losses last time. Obviously, Faro was his game, and clearly, the previous evening hadn’t exhausted his wallet. He pulled out a thick pile of bills. The other faces were largely unknown to her, but most were anxious to make her acquaintance. Abigail was always trying to uncover something that might be newsworthy for Mr. Knight’s benefit, but while the chatter was friendly, it was nothing out of the ordinary.
“Miss . . . Norris, you ever been to Seattle?”
“I’ve done my fair share of traveling,” she responded noncommittally.
“You gonna be in town a while?”
Abigail nodded toward her stack of chips. “If all goes well.”
This was greeted with hoots and chuckles. “Well, I wish you well and hope you get very lucky—against some other fella!”
This was greeted with more laughter, and the crowd around her table continued to thicken. From the bar, Abigail watched Zachary giving some instructions to some of his female employees. They quickly dispersed and got down to the business of soliciting the spectators around Abigail’s table. As before, they seemed to be in bubbly good spirits, but at times, it seemed a bit of a strained effort, particularly for the two youngest that Abigail had spotted before. They couldn’t be much older than sixteen.
The man who had lost so heavily at the other saloon continued with his losing streak in a very big way. He started the evening serenely enough, with small bets and small losses that he responded to with a cavalier bravado. But then the bets grew increasingly large. He had a few wins—everyone did. But they were outnumbered two to one by his losses, and as his money disappeared, his agitation grew, much to the amusement of the rest of the table.
At some point, one of the other players had questioned him about his profession and what city he came from. He was equally evasive on both counts. He wouldn’t even supply a name, which caused the other payers to joke that he looked like a Charlie, or more like a Harold, or maybe a Marion. Abigail wondered why he didn’t simply give them a fake name to keep them quiet. He was clearly beyond thinking reasonably regarding anything.
She couldn’t help feeling a bit badly for him. Clearly, it was time to cut his losses and head home. But he was the type of player who couldn’t leave the table while there was a single dime left in his pocket. Abigail saw Zachary salivating nearby as the hapless gambler wagered and lost his last fifty dollars in one fell swoop. He looked panicked and then dejected.
“I got claim on his seat,” one of the standing players said heartlessly.
The colossal loser slowly stood up and made his way toward the door. The other players could not have been less sympathetic.
“No matter how much that fella loses, he comes back the next week with plenty more. He must own a gold mine.”
“Maybe he’s a robber. Trains. Stage coach.”
“That is not a man who knows his way around a gun. Born rich, more like. Spendin’ all his daddy’s money.”
“One thing’s for sure. He’ll be back next Friday night. That, I’d put money on.”
“Ain’t no one gonna take that bet. He’ll be here for sure.”
Abigail kept her table open until one o’clock in the morning. She would have retired earlier, but Zachary clearly wanted her to keep going. By the time they convened at the end of the night to tally their profits, there was three hundred dollars to split between the two of them. Abigail’s share was two hundred and ten dollars.
She had to remind herself that this sum of money was not something that would dazzle Flamin’ Annie. It was probably just a typical night for her. But Zachary was pleased enough, so she could consider the evening doubly successful.
“I knew you’d take him for everythin’ he had. Don’t know where that fella comes from, but any night you see him walkin’ into your place—it’s gonna be a good night.”
“How can he afford to lose so much, so often?” Abigail wondered.
“Not our problem. Let’s just be glad he keeps comin’ back for more. Between you and him, shooo, we practically had to turn ’em away at the door. This is gonna be a mighty lucrative partnership, no doubt about it.”
Abigail had made herself not only welcome, but indispensable. Mission accomplished. Now, all she had to do was keep eyes and ears open. Like Sebastian, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something here just waiting to be uncovered.
*****
Because Abigail and Sebastian needed to avoid any public gatherings, their next appointment took place at the home of Beatrice and Avery Martin. Like Sebastian’s own home, the Martins’ house was set far enough away from the center of town that guests could enter with little fear of detection. It seemed a safe meeting spot, and Abigail welcomed the opportunity to see Beatrice again. The home itself was quite remarkable, grand and cozy all at once, and a notable triumph for a young lady from Beatrice’s humble background.
“Two hundred and ten dollars! Are you serious?” Beatrice squealed. “You could live off that for four months.”
“It can be lost back in a single evening just as easily,” Sebastian cautioned. “But yes, it’s a rather surprising bonus of this operation.”
“And very welcome,” Abigail added. “A single lady cannot have too much in the way of a nest egg.”
“Thoug
h you will not be single for long, if I’m not mistaken,” Avery reminded her. “If that plan is still on schedule.”
“It is,” Sebastian said. “But sensibly delayed until we have a chance to see this investigation to its completion. Was there anything of note to report?”
“I told you before about this man who lost two hundred dollars at Dusty’s Saloon. Well, he did the same thing again last night. I realize that he hasn’t done anything wrong. Anything illegal, that is. But I can’t help but wonder about him. He’s hiding something. Something significant.”
“If you can point him out to one of my employees, then I can have him tailed and we can see if there’s anything out of the ordinary there.”
“Poor man. He looked quite desperate. It is hard to fully enjoy my spoils of the evening, knowing where most of it originated.”
“I’m sure you can put it to more wholesome use than its original owner,” Beatrice said.
“Yes, that reminds me, Mr. Knight. I think it’s wonderful, your buying supplies for the children who are having trouble affording them. I’d like to donate twenty dollars toward that endeavor. You will know best how to spend it.”
Sebastian was touched and immensely pleased.
“The supplies will be received with much joy and gratitude, Miss Norris. To which I add my own.”
They exchanged a warm smile, which did not escape the notice of their hosts.
“But what was it like, being in there with all those men?” Beatrice inquired. “Were you very nervous?”
“I would have to say that the last two evenings have probably been the most exhilarating of my entire life. I know I shouldn’t admit such a thing. But I was more at home there than I ever was at my former husband’s social events and stuffy society balls. Pristine and elegant and suffocatingly dull. This was so loud and chaotic and unpredictable. I was very drawn to the wildness of it all.”