Heaven Scent (24 page)

She heard Beau speak. “Rafe, the police
want to take him away. Do you want to question him?”

“Tarin, don’t do this.” Rafe’s voice
was quiet, low, stilling her in her tracks.

She clutched her stomach. Holy God
above, she ached. The note of anguish in Rafe’s voice nearly undid
her. She wanted nothing more than to turn around and run to his
arms.

But she couldn’t. It would be temporary
insanity in a world where long term reason was
necessary.

She caught a sob in her
throat.
I love you, Rafe.

She walked away without a backward
glance.

#####

"Start talking, you sonuvabitch, or
I’ll take you out back and finish what I started.”

Shoving
Duncan
back in the chair, Rafe
straightened to his full height. He was not in the mood to
pussyfoot around, dammit. He needed to get out of there and get to
Tarin. Despite Henry’s request to give her time, Rafe was
determined to see her.

“I don’t have to talk to you. You’re
not the police.”

Duncan spat on the cell floor, an inch
from Rafe’s boot. Staring down at the puddle, Rafe slowly raised
his head. This guy was a glutton for punishment.

Hands on hips, Rafe glared at Duncan
through narrowed eyes. The man’s face was a bloody mess and he was
itching to make it bloodier. His nose was twice its original size
and broken. Dark rings were already forming beneath his swollen
eyes. He stunk to high hell and had more empty holes in his mouth
than he had teeth. He was cocky for a man arrested on attempted
murder charges.

But not for long.

The police were more than happy to let
Rafe and Beau do the questioning. Especially once Henry Worthington
tossed his money around. Duncan had more to explain than attempted
murder. And Rafe wasn’t leaving until he had all of the answers he
needed.

Stepping over to the bed, Rafe propped
his foot on the mattress. Bending, he pulled the knife from his
boot. He held the blade in front of his face, pretending to study
it. “What is your connection to Randall Kent?”

The man’s eyes widened as far as they
could -- considering.

“What? Did you think I didn’t know
about your relationship with Kent?” Rafe lowered the blade to stare
at the bastard. “I’ve seen you on Hunter’s dock. Did he put you up
to this?”

The man glanced at Beau, who leaned
against the bars. He looked back at Rafe and said
nothing.

With a heavy sigh, Rafe straightened.
“Go ahead, St. John. Let’s get this over with.”

Pulling away from the bars, Beau
sauntered across the cell as he pulled a slim, gold case from his
inside coat pocket. Stopping in front of Duncan, Beau flicked it
open. The man jumped. Inside were several long, thin shoots of
sharp bamboo.

Duncan shook his head violently.
“No!”

“Are you ready to talk?” Rafe leaned
down in his face.

The man’s eyes were glued to Beau’s
hand. When Duncan said nothing, Rafe gave a curt nod. Beau went to
work. He grabbed Duncan’s hand and pinched the center of it,
forcing his fingers wide. Grabbing one of the bamboo shoots, Beau
moved to shove it under the nail of his forefinger.

Duncan screamed like a pussy. “Aye,
aye!”

Beau straightened away and stepped
aside. Duncan shook his hand out, flexing his fingers.

“Aye, what?” Rafe boomed, as he stood
above him, arms crossed over his chest.

“Kent. He promised to pay me in gold if
I killed you.”

Gritting his teeth, Rafe
stared down at the fool.
Sonuvabitch
. Kent. Rafe had known he
was a bad seed from the beginning. His family and Tarin had lived
around him for years and not picked up on it. Yet, Rafe knew from
the moment he met him.

A sense of relief swept through him
that Tarin had not been the target. But, that didn’t mean she was
safe.

“Why did he want to kill
me?”

Duncan shrugged. “I didn’t ask
questions. I just needed the gold.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

“I don’t lie! He told me to kill you,
the sooner, the better. As soon as he heard you were dead, I would
get my gold.”

Rafe stared at the man, wondering why
he was so desperate for money. Didn’t Hunter pay his workers?
“What’s your relationship with Kent?”

Duncan’s gaze slid away to stare at the
floor. “He ships with Hunter. I work for Hunter.”

Swooping down on him, Rafe shoved the
knife into his throat. The man gasped aloud.

“You damned liar. Kent doesn’t ship
with Hunter.” The point dipped further into the man’s skin but he
didn’t draw blood – yet. “Tell me the truth – all of it. Or, I’ll
slit your throat right here, right now. I’m sure no one would miss
you.”

Eyes wide, the man glanced at Beau who
nodded slowly. “I’ve seen him do it. I’d talk if I were
you.”

He swallowed hard. “Aye!
Aye!”

Rafe straightened again.
“You try my patience. Talk.
Now
.”

“Kent,” his voice shook, “he uses
Worthington shipments to send opium to his customers. He pays me to
deliver them on the other end.”

Rafe glanced at Beau with a raised
brow. He loved when his gut was right. “Why doesn’t he just ship
them himself? Why use Worthington’s shipments as cover?”

Duncan shook his head. “He says it
would cut into his profits. He always finds a way to ship without
paying - says duty fees and shipping charges are too expensive. He
never has paid and he’s been shipping for six years.”

“Does Hunter know of this arrangement?”
Beau asked, twirling a shoot between his fingers.

“No.” The man shook his head. “Kent
approached him after…” he glanced at Rafe, “Sutherland died, but
Hunter wasn’t interested.”

Rafe felt like someone had slapped him.
“What do you mean, after my father died?”

“He shipped with your father until the
day of his death.”

Chapter 14

Rafe stopped beside his coach when Beau
jumped up to take the reins. “What the hell are you
doing?”

“You’re in no shape to drive,” he said
matter-of-factly.

“Like hell I’m not. Move over.” Rafe
moved to climb in where Beau sat.

Beau let out a gust of breath. “Just
get your stubborn ass up here, Sutherland.” Beau nodded to the
empty seat beside him.

Cursing under his breath, Rafe went
around the coach. Damned Frenchman. Just because he was older than
Rafe, he thought he could boss him around now and then. Jumping up
beside Beau in the seat, Rafe decided to boss him for a change. “I
want to go to Worthington’s house.”

Clicking the horses, Beau steered them
away from the jail. “I know.”

“How do you know, St. John? Do you
think you’re some damned mind reader now?”

Rafe felt wound tight as a top. He had
needed just a few more seconds alone with Duncan to take out his
frustration. Unfortunately, the police wouldn‘t allow
it.

“Rafe, within the last two hours, the
woman you love was almost killed by a gun intended for you, and you
found out your father was in business with the man that hired him.
Not to mention your ladylove has handed you the mitten. You’re
entitled to be upset.”

Rafe stiffened his back. He ground his
teeth to the point of pain and nearly snapped the wooden bench
beneath his hands. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking
about, St. John. First of all, I’m not in love with Tarin, and she
hasn’t given me the mitten. We’re getting married if I have to drag
her to the church.”

Beau stared straight ahead.

“As for my father, nothing should shock
me anymore. I don’t know why I reacted like I did.”

Taking a deep breath, Rafe tried to
make himself relax. Shutting his eyes, he willed himself to calm
down.

“It’s perfectly acceptable to admit
that you were scared for Tarin’s safety.” Beau’s low voice cut
through the tension that gripped Rafe. “You would not be the
honorable man you are if you’d reacted otherwise. She is your
future, your life. And contrary to what you tell yourself, you are
in love with her.”

Rafe shook his head,
aggravated to no end. Damned Frenchman. He
did
think he was a mind reader. “I am
not in love with her, dammit!”

With raised brows, Beau replied, “You
didn’t see your face when you went after Duncan. You would’ve
killed him on the spot if I hadn’t stepped in.”

Rafe blew out a breath. Beau knew him
well. Seeing a gun pointed at Tarin had turned him into a madman.
All he could think about, all he had wanted to do, was kill Duncan.
He had wanted to rip him limb from limb and would have, if Beau
hadn‘t stopped him.

Wouldn’t that have been a sight for
Tarin to see?

“
I’ve killed men before.”
Rafe frowned as the words escaped his mouth.

“In the line of duty,” Beau
acknowledged with a nod. “But never out of fear of losing someone
you care for.” He turned to Rafe. “You were not in
control.”

Rafe thought about that for a moment.
Was it fear? He had thought he’d dispensed with fear years ago.
Yet, when he thought about losing Tarin forever, he did feel a
fear. A fear of never seeing her again. A fear of never hearing her
laughter or tasting her kiss. A fear of never holding her close. On
top of those fears was the fear of letting her down, of not being
strong enough, wise enough to save her. Of living to see her with
someone else.

Wincing, he looked away. Good God
above, he couldn’t stomach the thought.

Did that mean he loved her?

Cursing under his breath, he drew a
knowing smirk from Beau. She deserved perfection. He used to be
close. Now, he was a damned mangled mess of a man that was as wild
as she was cultured.

Hell. Maybe he shouldn’t fight for her.
He laid his head in his hands.

“Confused?” Beau asked, as they came to
a stop.

Rafe glanced up to see the Worthington
home. If nothing else, Henry deserved to know what had happened
with Duncan.

“Hell, St. John. I live
confused.”

He jumped down from the coach. Beau
followed suit, frowning as he nodded at Rafe’s clothing. Blood
stained his coat and pants. Rafe shrugged out of his coat and threw
it on the coach seat. “I draw the line on dropping the
trousers.”

Laughing, Beau walked beside him to the
door. “When we’re done here, drinks are on me.”

“Good.” Rafe knocked on the door. “I
spent all of my money on taffy.”

#####

“She’s asleep.” Henry met them at the
study door and shut it behind them. “I had Hobbs put some laudanum
in her tea this afternoon. She finally settled down a few minutes
ago.” He motioned for them to sit before the fireplace. “What did
you find out?” He sat opposite them, his eyes huge, with lines of
worry framing his mouth.

Rafe sat forward. “Outside of Patrick,
what we discuss here today stays in this room. Is that
clear?”

Henry sat forward, mimicking him. “Well
that depends on what you tell me, Rafe. If I feel the need to
contact the police or my attorney, I will do so.”

“The police are already involved and if
you need an attorney, I will act for you.”

Squinting, Henry added, “Unless I need
one against you.”

Rafe lifted a corner of his mouth.
Worthington was beginning to grow on him. “No, but you may need one
against Randall Kent.”

Henry’s back stiffened. “Kent?
Why?”

Beau crossed an ankle over his knee.
“Kent hired the man you saw today to kill Rafe.”

Henry stared at them, mouth agape. “You
lie. Kent would never do such a thing.”

“Just as he wouldn’t use your shipments
abroad to deliver opium?” Rafe raised a brow.

Jumping up from the chair, Henry cried,
“What?!”

Rafe proceeded to explain all he had
learned that day, as well as what he had seen on the Hunter
docks.

Henry paced the length of the room,
anger radiating off him as though the fireplace roared. “Where is
Duncan now?”

“In jail.” Beau leaned forward as well.
“He is to remain there until we gain substantial evidence against
Kent. Right now, it is Duncan’s word against Kent.”

Nodding, Henry came to sit again. “We
must not alert Kent to our knowledge.”

“Yes,” Rafe agreed with a nod. “And we
must keep Tarin away from him. She’s not going to like it, but we
need to keep her safe until we catch him.”

Henry’s hands fisted in his lap. “I’ll
kill the bloody bastard should he go near her.”

The madman reared his ugly head again.
Rafe gritted his teeth. “Not if I get to him, first.”