The Bride Wore Blue (24 page)

C
arter stepped out of the shadows for another lap around the Homestead House. He adjusted the collar on his coat again. Huffing, he tugged his hat forward to keep the chilling rain off his face. If he wasn’t so stubborn, he’d call it a night and go home. Change out of these wet clothes. Enjoy a hot cup of coffee and climb into bed.

Shouts from inside the house erupted like sudden bursts of thunder. A shiver coursed up Carter’s spine as people poured down the front steps, murmuring and wailing. He dashed into the crowd.

“I can’t believe she’s dead,” one woman cried.

He tensed. “Who’s dead?”

“Poor Miss DeVere.”

Carter charged forward, showing his badge. “I’m the Sheriff’s deputy. Let me through.”

The crowd parted like the Red Sea, and he rushed into the house.

“Up there.” A heavyset woman, her dark cheeks awash with tears, pointed to the staircase.

He took the stairs two at a time. At the landing, he followed the sobs and somber voices to the bedchamber at the end of the hallway. Three working girls stood huddled in the corner. Pearl DeVere lay atop her bed, a sheet covering her face.

Carter approached the body and pulled off the sheet, letting it fall to his feet. No blood, and no sign of a struggle. But the madam of the house was clearly dead.

Pulling his notepad and pencil from his shirt pocket, Carter looked at the girls. “I’m Deputy Alwyn. Please tell me what you know.”

A dark-haired girl wiped tears from her paint-streaked cheeks and joined him beside the bed. “I’m Opal. Our cook, Mary, pulled me out of the ballroom. Said one of the girls told her Miss Pearl was dead. We came up here. When we found Pearl like this, I laid the sheet over her.”

Carter looked at the other two girls. “Which one of you found her?”

The redhead and the blonde he’d seen the day he came to talk to Miss Pearl about the horse shook their heads.

“It wasn’t any of us, deputy.” Opal sniffled. “It was Violet.”

Miss Pearl had told him she had three girls. “Violet?”

“New girl, been here about a month.”

He hadn’t seen a fourth girl coming and going during his watch or in town on Tuesdays.

“Until tonight, Violet only worked afternoons,” Opal said.

“Where is she now?”

“Mary said Violet ran through the kitchen and right out the back door like a fire lit her tail.”

Carter had chosen the wrong shadows to hide in, and in the noisiest of neighborhoods. He made notes, and then looked at the other two girls. “Did either of you see or hear anything?”

The blonde stepped forward. “I saw a man go into Miss Pearl’s room just minutes after Violet came up.”

“Did you recognize him?”

“It was Leon. Don’t know his surname.”

Opal nodded. “He’s Pearl’s special friend. They were always exchanging gifts. She gave him a horse a few weeks ago.”

Leon Kelso from Louisville, Kentucky.

“She told us he bought her this gown.” The redhead glanced at the pink pearl-studded dress Miss Pearl wore.

“Did you see this Leon after you were summoned to the room?”

“No, and he wasn’t in the room when I came up. I haven’t seen Violet again either.”

There was a good chance a prostitute and a robber were on the loose together. Was one or both of them responsible for Pearl DeVere’s death, or did the sporting girl have other reasons to hide from the law?

Vivian sat in the mud with her hands tied to a saddle behind her, her feet strapped together. Her captor lay just five feet away, wrapped in a bedroll while she shivered under a smelly, wet horse blanket.

He’d taken her below the depot, where he retrieved a chestnut, and she’d ridden with him up a dark path, whipped by overhanging branches. Her wig hung from a tree somewhere in the dark. Now the horse stood tethered to a sycamore a few feet away. If she could get to the mare, she could escape, but she’d lost count of how many times she’d tried to stand under the weight of the saddle. It was impossible.

Vivian pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in her ripped skirt.

She’d blamed her father because he left her in Maine and wouldn’t let her go to Paris. She’d blamed her sisters for making her feel like she could never measure up to their level of morality and achievement. Tears pooled at her chin. The truth was that her plight was no one’s
fault but her own. She’d chosen Gregory’s word over God’s. She’d chosen to work at the Homestead House instead of swallowing her pride and asking her other sisters for help. Miss Hattie was in no hurry for her rent. She would have waited a few weeks longer.

Vivian blew a knot of unruly hair out of her face. She’d been out to prove she could stand on her own two feet, and look where it had gotten her—tethered to a saddle in the middle of the night with a killer as her captor. She’d lied to everyone who cared for her, and soon they’d all know it. Miss Hattie, her sisters, and Carter.

Lord, I have sinned. With Gregory. Pride. Deceit. Lies. Hiding. Sneaking. And I blamed everyone but myself, even You
.

Tears poured down Vivian’s face onto the soiled gown. She’d been so selfish. So naive. So foolish.

Please forgive me, Lord. I don’t deserve Your help, but I do need You. Please help me
.

Within minutes, her tears subsided, and although she couldn’t explain it, she felt better. Peaceful and watched over. Perhaps she wasn’t alone with this man.

Lord, please be with my sisters and my father. And with Carter
.

Vivian leaned against the saddle that weighed her down and closed her eyes.

Moments later, an explosion broke the silence. Vivian jerked her head up to see her captor coming toward her with a rifle in his hands. Beads of sweat streamed down her spine. She tried to jump to her feet, but the saddle pulled her back down, and she flopped onto her side in the mud.

The bandit walked past her, and she twisted enough to see the silhouette of a dead animal that lay just beyond her.

“Good thing you stopped sniffling when you did,” the bandit said, “or I’d never have heard that mountain lion growl.”

A mountain lion?
Vivian’s breath caught. “Thank you.”

It felt strange to thank him after all the bad things he’d done, but he had just saved her from an animal attack, and she was truly grateful.

Her captor spit and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I should’ve let the animal kill you and saved myself the trouble.”

“I didn’t kill Pearl.” Turning away from him, Vivian pulled herself back into a sitting position, bumping her hip on a rock as she did. “I went upstairs to tell her I couldn’t do that kind of work.”

He huffed and stomped back to his bedroll. “Got news for you, missy.” His laugh tensed her stomach. “There’s men waiting where I’m taking you, and you’ll entertain them without pay.”

Acid burned Vivian’s throat. “Were you the man who requested my company tonight? ”

“I planned to teach you not to snoop outside Pearl’s door.” He spit again. “When I found you with her, your lesson took a turn for the worse.”

“She was already dead when I found her.” Her voice sounded as shattered as she felt, falling apart with no one to pick up the pieces.

“Doesn’t matter if you killed her or not. My Pearl is dead, and you’re going to pay.”

Curling into a fetal position, Vivian fell onto her side, against the saddle. If she survived this night, she’d find a way to get away from him.

God, help me
.

At first light, Carter walked Liberty out of the corral and looked at his bleary-eyed friend. “Thanks for saddling him, Jesse.”

“No trouble.” Jesse hooked his thumb in his overalls and followed Carter out of the gate. “You sure you don’t need me to join the search party?”

Carter palmed a carrot and held it out to his bay, then swung up into the saddle. He wasn’t like his father. He wasn’t going after the suspects alone. “I’ll have two officers from the police department with me. Any more than three of us would be too conspicuous.”

Jesse nodded. “Be real careful, you hear?”

Carter tapped the brim of his hat. “I intend to.”

Had his father said the same thing to his mother when he left home that day to keep the peace in the red light district? It didn’t matter. Carter was setting out to bring in a prostitute, not rescue one.

He returned Jesse’s wave and urged Liberty down the muddy road toward the depot, where the two officers were to meet him. He was riding past the train station when he heard a shout.

“Deputy Alwyn!”

He pulled up on the reins and twisted toward the depot steps. Baxter, one of the town drunks, shuffled toward him, waving his worn hat. Carter didn’t have time for town gossip or questions surrounding last night’s events.

“Wait up, Deputy! I heard about our poor Miss Pearl.” Baxter shook his unkempt head. “You heard about that guy who shot up Edgar’s piano a couple of months ago?”

Carter swallowed his impatience and nodded.

“I seen him again last night.”

Carter perked up. “You did? Where?”

“Twice.”

“When? Where?”

“He came into Ollie’s all spiffed up, bragging about bein’ on his way to the big wingding over at the Homestead House.”

Carter nudged Liberty closer to the man. “You saw him again, later?”

“I was going to the Central Dance Hall. Saw him and a little lady walkin’ all cozy-like toward this here depot.”

If Leon and Violet boarded a train, they could be anywhere by now. “Did you see them go inside?”

Baxter shook his shaggy head. “Nope. They had a horse tied out back and rode off up the hill.”

Carter followed the man’s gaze. “Toward Ute Pass.”

“Yes sir. Thought it might help you to know.”

“It does, Baxter, thanks.”

Two uniformed policemen rode toward him on sorrels. Clucking his tongue, Carter signaled Liberty to close the distance between them. Both men wore blue double-breasted uniforms with bottle-cap hats. Ten men would’ve been less conspicuous than these two.

“Deputy.” They spoke in unison.

“Morning, gentlemen.” Carter pinched the crown of his hat. “We’ve got a couple of people who fled the scene—a man and a woman. The man is tied to the train and bank robberies. And Mac’s death. Baxter said he saw them headed north last night, and I have reason to believe they have a hideout at Ute Pass.”

“Yes sir,” said the rail-thin officer with a wisp of a chin. “Sergeant Grady told us they were the last people seen at Miss DeVere’s room before her death.”

Carter drew in a deep breath. “You two up to a chase?”

The heavier one tugged his uniform shirt over his belly. “We’re ready, sir.”

Carter turned Liberty north and hoped he was ready. No telling what he’d find, but given their brash behavior the past several months, he didn’t expect any of the bandits to give up without a fight.