By Grace Alone (The Death Dealer Book 2) (3 page)

Four

Grace wasn’t completely surprised to see Thom in Marcus’s seat of power the next morning. The King of Thieves had fallen into the Guard’s sights, and waiting out the storm would be the safest route. Grace knew that guards would be poking around the Angel, they’d all be questioned, and life would be upside down for a while. But the silver lining was that the Death Dealer could return to helping people, rather than doing a thief’s bidding.

Others were less optimistic. Ridley, distraught over her adoptive father’s absence, spent the morning haranguing Thom for information.

“This will be trouble for us,” Jim said softly and leaned his belly on the front counter. He, Rosemary, and Grace watched Ridley’s tantrum with interest. The young woman’s hands were thrown up in anger while she stamped her feet. Her face was a bright, tomato red.

“Why?” Rosemary asked. “None of us have done anything.”

“Moore wants Marcus, and the whole city knows he spent most of his time here. Even if he runs off, where do you think Sergeant Moore is going to come first? I never should have let the Guild stay here.”

“They paid fairly,” Grace reminded him. “The Angel was able to afford those repairs this past spring because of the rent Marcus paid to conduct business here.” Anger at Marcus aside, he had brought in most of Jim’s business and kept the inn from becoming too dangerous to occupy.

“But what of it when trouble comes knocking at my door? Then where is he? Gone to visit a sick mother? Nonsense!”

Ridley stomped over to them; her face still red in frustration. Her hair was disheveled where she had pulled at it and she glared at Jim and Rosemary. “Leave!” she snapped.

“This is
my
inn, missy. How about I tell
you
to leave!” Jim said.

“Grace, come with me!” she said, her eyes shooting daggers at Jim.

“Better do what her highness says,” Rosemary joked. In response, Ridley kicked her in the shins. “Ah! What?”

Grace turned Ridley around, leading her by the shoulders. “Come on, you.”

In the stables an old, crotchety man mucked out the only stable currently occupied. He frowned at seeing the women. “You leave to be a serving wench for Jim, but you’re always hanging around here!” Mayhew barked with a scowl.

Even in the heat, with the almost nauseating stench of muck, she missed her work in the stables. Work was easier inside the tavern, but less fulfilling. She even missed cranky old Mayhew.

“Can we beg a moment of privacy?” Grace asked.

“What nonsense is this?”

Ridley continued to fume under Grace’s hands. “I’ll clean the stalls tomorrow in exchange.”

“You’ll clean it twice tomorrow!” When Mayhew left to plot Ridley’s destruction, Grace noticed he had been more pleasant than usual.

“Marcus just left! He didn’t even tell me where he really went!” Ridley moaned. “He’s been so closed off since Constable Taylor’s death, and now this. Sick mum? Bah! His mum has been dead for years!”

Grace wasn’t sure what to say. Hiding out was the best decision Marcus had made recently and she was relieved to see him gone for the time being, but this wasn’t something she wanted to share aloud. Grace released her grip on Ridley’s shoulders and the young thief turned to face her. Her face was now a dull pink and tears trailed down her cheeks.

“Thom says I’m to be his right hand man for now.”

Grace overturned a bucket and bid Ridley to sit, but Ridley fiddled with her hands and paced instead of taking the offered seat. “You need to calm down, please.”

“This is all that Sergeant Moore’s fault!” Ridley fumed and kicked an empty stall door. “He isn’t respecting the order of things in this city! Only a fool with a death wish would harass the Thieves’ Guild like this!”

The door that led back into the tavern opened and Grace looked up as Ridley continued her tirade. Sergeant Moore stopped his descent into the stables and leaned his body against the doorframe, arms across his chest. There was bemusement on his face as he listened.

“Ridley…” Grace tapped her shoulder.

Ridley shrugged it off. “They should have done him in when he patrolled around the Emerald Rose. You know they almost did! Fool got lucky, though. Well, his luck won’t last forever.”

“They tried more than once, Miss Hunewn,” Sergeant Moore said, and Ridley stopped her pacing.

The threats and insults all died in her throat and Grace felt her own face grow hot in embarrassment for her friend’s loose tongue.

“Too bad they didn’t finish the job,” Ridley finally muttered. She stormed past him, bumping his shoulder roughly as she reentered the tavern.

“Charming,” he said, and moved closer to Grace.

“You won’t get much information from her or Thom.” She bent down and righted the bucket, unsure what else to do. She felt awkward in the presence of the sergeant when she had been asked to trail him less than a day ago.

“I don’t expect I will. I’m actually looking for information from you.”

Grace backed herself into an empty stall. The action was that of a nervous girl, a girl who was probably hiding something, so she tried to calm herself. It didn’t do to look guilty. Inside the stall, she picked up Mayhew’s abandoned shovel.

“Me, sir?” She made a silent plea, hoping he would just think she was intimidated instead of trying to hide something.

“And Jim and that saucy girl, Rosemary, too. Marcus Hunewn has spent years at the Angel. You all know more than you think.”

“Sergeant Moore, I don’t think it’s wise for me to gossip or speak against my betters,” she tried to deflect him. It was safer than telling the truth. She could play the naïve, bewildered barmaid and he’d go away.

“Betters? You’re Rogue Lane’s noblewoman. I wouldn’t exactly count Marcus as your ‘better’. And this isn’t gossip…a guard is dead and those responsible need to be punished.”

“You wouldn’t be here if Constable Taylor had killed the Atkins brothers.” She groaned inwardly and bit her lip. Even as she spoke, she knew it was a mistake.

“Excuse me?” Sergeant Moore didn’t look angry, but rather taken aback.

“If Taylor had murdered them, no one would care and justice wouldn’t be done. The Guild wouldn’t attack the Guard in retaliation; Marcus would never allow it. He’d be furious, sure, and maybe send out an army of cutpurses, but he’d never endanger his men like that. But Taylor would walk away with his mates clapping him on the back.”

“Are you defending their actions?”

She tightened her grip on the shovel. Her knuckles were bone white. “No, but they are men the same as Taylor and they shouldn’t be hunted like animals. Adam and Harris should be pulled into the magistrate’s court. Justice should be done, but not the street justice currently in play, and certainly not torture by vengeful guards.”

Nathaniel rubbed his chin. “Why do you think I’m searching for Harris?” He closed the gap between them and leaned up against the stall, looking in at her. “If Marcus finds him, Taylor’s ghost will hunt these streets looking for justice.”

Grace couldn’t be sure how much the guard actually believed about what he said because his face was an unreadable mask. “If the Guard finds him, he’ll be tortured.”

He shrugged. Grace wanted to see Harris stand before the magistrate to receive his fair punishment. Men like Marcus and Sergeant Moore shouldn’t be the ones doling it out. “I don’t know where Marcus is.”

“Well if you hear anything, please get word to me.” He bowed his head and walked back out.

Grace let the shovel drop to her feet. Trouble was closing in all around her.

~*~*~

Grace put a platter of fried fish before Thom. He looked unnatural and uncomfortable in Marcus’s seat. The evening regulars of the Angel had picked up on the tension between Thom and Ridley and decided to stay far away from the tired looking man. The word
usurper
was whispered here and there. Looking at his miserable expression, Grace didn’t think the word
usurper
applied. No, here sat a patsy.

“This smells like it’s a week old,” Thom commented, although the usual sarcastic bite was missing from his voice.

“Take your complaints up with Jeremiah.” Eyes from all corners of the common room were locked on them, but Grace kept looking at Thom, ignoring them.

“Sergeant Moore is talking to everyone on Jim’s staff,” he continued. “He’s too smart a man to let his thoughts be known, but was there even a hint of anger in his tone?”

“I think he’s very even-tempered about the whole situation. Actually, I’d expect him to be madder, given that Marcus has run off.” She let annoyance creep into her voice. She didn’t like the sergeant’s neutral tone about everything; like he had no reason to be worried.

Thom didn’t even blink. “Everyone who walks Rogue’s Lane knows Constable Taylor was a cheat, the same as everyone knows Harris Atkins had a fierce temper.” He lowered his voice and motioned for Grace to put her ear closer. “Plenty of city guards were glad to see him offed, though pride would never allow them to admit it. Rumor on the streets is that Sergeant Moore wants justice done, even though he wasn’t a fan of Taylor’s. People say he once arrested Captain Kay’s first mate for disturbing the peace, and you know how ornery
that
bunch gets.”

Kay Lansa was the captain of a pirate ship that occasionally restocked food and water stores in Glenbard. Grace had tangled with her while in the guise of the Death Dealer, and she’d not seen such rage since. Kay and her crew did whatever they wanted when they were in town, and the guards always turned a blind eye. Grace felt a begrudging respect for Sergeant Moore if he had the stones to make such a fearsome enemy.

She moved back from Thom. Her heart went out to him. The man didn’t like the position he was in, but he would never break his loyalty to Marcus.

“I need a favor, Grace.” People around them moved closer, though they tried to make it look as though they were uninterested. They all wanted to know why Grace lingered so long with Thom.

She turned on them, her gray eyes bearing down. The assembled thieves all looked away and tried to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping. Grace said nothing, but continued to stare down anyone who caught her eye.

Thom sighed. “We’ll talk later.”

Grace bobbed a curtsy to him, taking her leave, and Ridley moved from her seat across the common room. It was bad enough being stuck between the thieves and the guards, but now she found herself between Thom and Ridley as well.

“What did
he
want?”

“He asked what Sergeant Moore wanted.” Grace grabbed a tray of ale mugs Jim had left for her to deliver. The amber liquid sloshed at the sides, but she managed to keep it all in the mugs. “Don’t be so hard on him.”

“I wouldn’t so hard on him if he’d tell me where Marcus really went!”

It wasn’t Grace’s place to interfere with Guild business. She was in too deep already. However, Ridley would always be at her elbow, demanding answers to questions Grace had no right to know.

“Maybe there’s a reason he won’t tell you.”

“But I’m his daughter!” Ridley continued to trail Grace, even as she dealt with patrons.

The men thanked Grace for her service and she managed to make it away from the table with only one pinch on her bottom. She dumped the contents of one of the mugs in the offender’s lap and promised worse if the drunkard tried it again. Throughout all this, Ridley mumbled and complained. As much as she wanted to, Grace didn’t have the heart to remind her friend that gossip was her lifeblood. Ridley loved to have a secret and brag, and especially to brag she had a secret. Anyone who spent five minutes in her company would know why Thom hadn’t told her anything about the current matter. It was also why Marcus saw fit to never share the Death Dealer’s identity.

Grace returned the empty tray to Jim. “Missy, my girls have work to attend to,” Jim said, and pointed an accusing finger in Ridley’s direction. Never mind the fact that he’d spent all day carrying on about the predicament Marcus had put him in. The whole affair was giving Grace a headache.

“You old fool! Don’t talk to me like I’m some common wench off the street!” Ridley’s raised voice caused a few people to halt their conversations and stare.

Grace put herself between the two. “Stop acting like children,” she scolded. “You’ll cause a scene and someone will leave to fetch the Guard, and I’m sure neither of you want to see the likes of them back here today.” That was enough to back them off. “I’m headed home, Jim.” She had been there since sunrise scrubbing and cooking. It was time to leave before her head split in two.

“Ack.” Jim flicked his wrist at her in a frustrated dismissal.

Grace removed her apron and slung it over Ridley’s shoulder. “At least talk to Thom before decrying him. And by the way, I know you’re the one who put the word
usurper
on people’s lips. You’re not doing any favors by starting vicious rumors we all know are not true. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Ridley’s red, shamed face wasn’t lost on Grace, and she patted her shoulder in a comforting gesture.

A chorus of “Good-night, Grace” filled her ears as she left. Even with the sunset, the heat hadn’t let up. The night was filled with dead air. Even a wisp of breeze would have helped, but at least it wasn’t the same stuffy air she had been breathing in the Angel. Grace rubbed her forehead once she was out in the street. It felt like a hundred tiny hammers beat away inside her skull.