A Season Beyond a Kiss (59 page)

“At first, I thought Olney mighta’ve stabbed her wit’ the knife I saw lyin’ nearby, but Nell told me some stranger had done it ta her. She said she’d gone lookin’ for Birmin’am ta warn him one last time ’bout the shame he’d suffer if’n he didn’t meet her demands. When she slipped inta his bedroom, she said it weren’t Birmin’am ‘ere atall, but a stranger who’d been pryin’ on a box on Birmin’am’s desk. Nell said she tried ta leave real quick like, but the bloke caught her, put a knife ta her throat an’ threatened ta slice it open if’n she screamed. After the rain, it was real muddy outside, an’ he didn’t want ta get his fancy shoes dirty, so’s he hauled her ta the bed an’ sat on her whilst he put on a pair o’ Birmin’am’s boots.”

“Vhy didn’t just he kill her in
Herr
Birmingham’s bedroom? He could haf saved himself a lot of bother.”

“What wit’ him bein’ a guest, I suppose he didn’t want a hew an’ cry made o’er her body whilst he was still in the house.”

Gustav thrust his chin out musefully as he considered the man’s conjecture. Then he waved his hand officiously. “Continue.”

“The fella took her out ta the barn an’ stabbed her. He was gonna knife her again, but accordin’ ta Nell, he heard a noise, an’ that’s when Olney ran out o’ the next stall. The gent raced after him, but Nell figgered Olney took off ’cause she then heard a clatter o’ hooves rattlin’ off inta the distance. The stranger came back ta see ’bout Nell, but she played real dead like. Guess he fell for her game, ‘ceptin’ she weren’t dead. That’s when I started thinkin’ ta meself. Here ye’d gone an’ promised me a thousand dollars ta split the newlyweds, an’ ‘ere a stranger were ta blame for it all. That’s when I decided ta finish Nell off meself.” He laughed shortly. “She screamed when she saw me intent, but it did her little good. Still, me timin’ was off a bit. I seen a lantern comin’ from the house an’ quickly snuffed out me own. I hide meself in another stall, an’ that’s when Birmin’am himself come out ta have a looksee ’round the barn, ‘ceptin’ he didn’t get no farther than poor Nell. She was still alive when he reached her, an’ she mewled on ’bout her lovin’ him an’ how sorry she was for e’er lyin’ ’bout him sirin’ her babe. A short time later, me niece come out searchin’ for him, an’ from the way things looked, she got it inta her head real fast like that Birmin’am had killed the girl, ’cause me niece went flyin’ back inta the house like someone had torched her petticoats.”

“So, Frye! Yu are satisfied zhat yu vere zhe vone vhat put a vedge between Birmingham and yur niece, except she vas in zhe same house vith him vhen I vent to
Frau
Dalton’s.”

“No matter that.” Frye waved his hand, dismissing the importance of that bit of information. “What matters is the fact that Nell would still be alive if’n ‘tweren’t for me, an’ Jeffrey Birmin’am wouldn’t be in prison now ’cause Nell would’ve told everybody he were innocent o’ stabbin’ her an’ gettin’ her wit’ child. She were kinda lovesick o’er that ‘ere rich gent, an’ ye can bet she wouldna’ve let him suffer more’n a day’s time in jail afore she’da’ve spilled out the truth, maybe e’en as ta how I’d put her up ta claimin’ Birmin’am as her kid’s pa.”

Gustav made no effort to hide the sneer in his tone as he voiced a conjecture. “I take it, zhen, zhat yu vant payment for vhat yu did.”

“A thousand Yankee dollars, just like ye promised, Mr. Fridrich. Otherwise, I’ll have ta send word ta the sheriff that me niece’s husband ain’t the bloke he wants, that he should be lookin’ for a fancy stranger who attended Birmin’am’s shindig.”

Gustav’s mouth twisted downward as he considered the Englishman’s threat. He had already given Olney ten thousand for Birmingham’s arrest, and that deed had been accomplished. Considering the unfavorable sentiment that event had already been evoked against his rival, Gustav had every hope that before too much time elapsed Jeffrey Birmingham would be hanged for Nell’s murder, which would leave Raelynn a bereaved widow. Once that happened, then he’d be able to collect everything he wanted from her. However, Frye could muddle up everything before the hanging, but Gustav wasn’t about to stand for that.

“I vill pay yu zhe zhousand dollars to keep yur mouth closed, Frye,” Gustav agreed at last, bringing a cocky grin to the Englishman’s face. The German drew out a small strongbox from his desk, unlocked it, and counted out the necessary gold coins. “If I don’t give yu zhis, I know yu vell enough to be assured zhat yu vill keep yer threat and haf Birmingham set free.”

“His wife is me niece, after all, an’ as they say, blood is thicker’n water.” Frye collected the coins in a leather bag and then jauntily returned to the front portal, where, with a casual salute and a succinct smile, he took his leave.

“Damnation!”
Gustav roared, slamming his fist down upon his desk. Pivoting about face, he stalked through the dark halls of his warehouse. “Vhere iz everybody? Morgan? Cheney? Muffat? Vhere are yu?”

No answer came, and he strode deeper into the structure until he could hear men grunting as they stacked wooden rifle boxes.

“Morgan, vhere are yu?”

“Here, sir, loadin’ the rifles like ye told us ta do for shipment upriver.”

“Forget zhat for zhe moment,” Gustav commanded sharply. “I haf more important vork for yu to do now. Cooper Frye left here moments ago. He has become a hazard to our business ventures. I vant yu to . . . ah . . . How shall I say it? Put him out of his misery? Frye has a bag of coins on his person. If yu three lads do avay with him, then zhat vill be revard. Yu may share in it evenly or zeparately. It does not matter to me vhich vone of yu do it as long as Cooper Frye iz zilenced permanently. Yu understand?”

  
  C
OOPER
F
RYE STROLLED AWAY FROM THE WAREHOUSE
, feeling very cocky with a thousand Yankee coins in his possession. It had been a while since he had had his mind clear of the dulling intoxicants he was wont to liberally quaff, and at the moment he was convinced that he could do no wrong. In fact, he had already planned his next venture to enlarge his wealth, possibly by as much as a few more thousand. It entailed arranging a meeting with an old acquaintance whom he had diligently been avoiding. This fellow was exceedingly more dangerous than the German, but if he kept his wits keen and clear, he had no doubt that he’d come out the victor. After all, this was his lucky day.

It was a rare occasion indeed when Cooper Frye sauntered down Meeting Street to the best hostelry in town and crossed its threshold. It wasn’t that he disliked being in such a place. His reluctance to enter the establishment was simply due to the fact that he normally couldn’t afford anything that was worth having on the premises and that, when he came in, the manager, along with almost everyone on his staff, looked at him as if he were something tainted that had just been washed up from the sea. Previously he had always left the place feeling the throes of deep depression, which had only driven him to imbibe all the more. At least now, he had money in his purse, but sorrowfully not enough to abide overlong where the taste of luxury was so pronounced and far too tempting for him to ignore.

A small bribe of a coin paid to a fetching maid, just slightly past her prime, left him reasonably assured that his note would be given to the occupant of the suite his acquaintance was letting. Even so, he followed covertly until well assured that the delivery had been made to the specified room. The maid had given the missive to the man’s steward and then bustled back toward the area in which she had been working, humming happily to herself until her breath was snatched inward in shocked surprise as a large hand clapped rudely between her buttocks. She whirled with eyes blazing and, before Cooper Frye could stumble back to a safe distance, clamped a hand to his crotch, catching his manly possessions in a fierce grip that made him soar to the tips of his toes.

“Don’t e’er do that again, ye blackguard!” she hissed through gnashing teeth. “If’n ye do, I’ll tear ’em out, so help me I will. Do ye ken?” To make her point, she increased the pressure until Frye began to mumble all sorts of pleas and promises. “
Do ye ken?”

He nodded speedily, affirming the fact that he’d do
anything
if she’d just let him go. Finally she condescended to turn him loose and did so with a satisfied chuckle. Cooper’s breath left him in a relieved “whoosh” as she stepped back and dusted her hands, as if intimidating him had been all in a day’s work.

“Bitch!” Cooper mumbled none too loudly and glowered after her as she pranced off with skirts swaying from stem to stern. His face contorted in a grimace as he twitched and tugged at his breeches, trying to right everything. What he feared most now was that he had been permanently shriveled.

Frye gradually collected his aplomb and straightened his clothes, shoddy as they were. Assuming an air of one who had immense wealth, he returned to the lower foyer and strolled out into the crisp, late afternoon air. He had no doubt that his associate would keep the appointment; it was certainly in the man’s best interest to comply. Of course, Cooper Frye had been careful to arrange a meeting where the two of them would be well in sight of people. It was much safer that way.

  
  “D
AMMIT
, R
HYS, YOU’VE GOT TO LET ME GO
,” J
EFF
demanded hotly as he whirled to face the lawman, who, at the moment, was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped on his desk. “By now, most everyone in Charleston knows I’ve been arrested, and that knowledge will surely mean danger for my wife. Whether it’s Gustav or the miscreant who attacked us, they’ll likely see her as a bird in hand while I’m conveniently locked up and out of the way.”

“You’re not locked up, Jeffrey,” the sheriff pointed out, not unreasonably. He swept a hand toward the only occupied cell in the jail. Now that the doors were on both cells, he could even feel confident about keeping his young prisoner. “Olney is locked up. You’re free.” He indicated the wide area in which his guest was striding irately about, as if that one needed a reminder that he was roaming about the office unhindered and of his own accord. “In fact, if you don’t stop pacing about, you’re going to wear a damned hole through my floor.”

“I’d like to wear a hole through that thick pate of yours, my friend. Maybe then you’d be able to understand what I’m talking about,” Jeff retorted, pivoting about. “Can’t you understand that my wife is virtually alone in Elizabeth’s house, with only her maid and a four-year-old boy to come to her aid if something happens? Gustav has already been there, pressing his case to have her for himself. And no telling what that hooded demon who attacked us might be tempted to do in my absence. I tell you, Rhys, you’ve got to let me go!”

“Now, now, Jeffrey, I’ve got everything under control,” the sheriff assured him. “I’ve spoken to Elijah, and he’ll continue to watch over your wife. If anything happens, he’ll let me know.”

“That’s not nearly enough to satisfy me!” Jeff argued. “Not now! Not while I’m in here!”

Rhys heaved a sigh, growing a bit frustrated with the unyielding persistence of the man. “Look, Jeffrey, why don’t you just go lie down in your cell for a while and take a nap or something,” he suggested. “Maybe then you’ll calm down and see my point. If I were to let you go, then you’d likely be strung up, and what good would you be to your wife then?”

Pausing, Jeff set his jaw thoughtfully aslant and considered his situation, giving Rhys justification to think that he intended to be more reasonable now. That supposition was served quick death when Jeff stated his deductions. “I could just as well walk out of here. You haven’t arrested me, and you know damn well that I’m innocent. So, I guess basically that leaves me a free man.” Seriously testing that theory, he grabbed up his frockcoat and strode toward the front door. “I’ll see you later, Rhys.”

“Charlie!” Rhys barked, overturning his chair in his haste to get to the portal first. He did so, but only barely.

“I’m here, Sheriff,” the deputy replied, shuffling in from the back room.

Rhys met the glaring emerald eyes that were level with his own, and though he never wavered before them, just the same he felt the hackles rise on the back of his neck. He faced a man equal to his own height and, though lighter by a couple of stone or more, was still very much in prime physical strength. Jeffrey Birmingham could be damned pleasant, as Rhys well knew, even easygoing, but there was no doubt about it, steel formed the core of his backbone. It didn’t take but a moment for Rhys to realize just why the Birminghams were considered dangerous men to rile. If those deep green shards couldn’t stab a person to the heart, then it would be the men who possessed them who’d continue the fight until the last foe and culprit was hung. “Handcuff Mr. Birmingham to his cot.”