Running Wild (40 page)

“No, it’s O.K.,” Nick answered as he started flipping
through the envelope’s contents. A quick look in Lee’s direction found a frown
on Lee’s face.

“It’s not that Romeo isn’t a concern,” Lee said catching
Nick’s eyes, “but bringing back Jane and Star is a trifle more immediate.”

Gabe’s frown deepened. “Mrs. Harrington is with Miss
Montgomery? Where have they gone?”

“To Chicago,” Huntington said tiredly, “with my wife’s
lover. The hell with her, Lee. I’m sick of fighting. I’m letting her go,” he
said sitting back in his seat and rubbing his eyes.

“With Simon Price,” Gabe said, slowly. “He has family in
Chicago.”

“Bloody hell, even the Pinkerton knows?”

“It’s my job,” Gabe said. “Nick.” He pierced Nick with his
eyes. “You’ll want to go after them, posthaste. The situations are connected.”

Another jolt. It seemed like the last two days had been one
after another. “You think Romeo could be Price,” he stated, as his neck muscles
knotted.

“I am all but certain.”

“Jesus,” Lee whispered.

“No,” Del said, shaking his head. “No. Price loves Jane.”

“But,” Nick said looking at Star’s letter still on the bed,
“Jane begged Star to join them. Why would she do that if Simon wanted . . .
sonuvabitch . . . he used Jane to lure Star away from Newport.”

“Without a doubt,” Gabe said. “Mrs. Huntington and Price met
before Montgomery’s wedding. The Huntingtons were invited to it, I expect?”

All three nodded.

“Jane might have provided Price with your address. I’ve yet
to find the boy Romeo hired to purchase those flowers, but the telephone calls
originated from this hotel, where Price was also staying. Moreover, Price’s
father works for the railroad.”

“I thought his parents were dead,” Lee said.

“His mother is, not his father. She was estranged from her
mother. She and her husband moved from Boston to Chicago before Price was born.
After Price’s birth, his mother became a reformer, which completed the rupture.
When she died, Price’s grandmother, Mrs. Farnsworth, took Price under her wing.
She got him admitted to Harvard and set up a trust fund, enough for Simon, but
not his father, to live on. Father and son remain on friendly terms, however.”

“That might explain why he’s so dead set again the
movement,” Nick said. “You think his father’s connections could have gotten him
access to the baggage car and Star’s trunk?”

“Easily,” Gabe answered.

“What trunk?” Lee asked.

Gabe stayed focused on Nick. “We’ve no direct proof, not
yet, but as possibilities accrue. . .”

“And then there’s the picture frame,” Del said slowly.
“Doubtless Price used my
wife
to enter the house.”

“I expect so,” Gabe said, as if he understood perfectly well
the information about a picture frame that Nick had never heard of. “Nick, I’m
in complete earnest when I say there’s no time to lose in this.”

“What picture frame?” Nick asked as shoulders started to
ache, too.

“We checked,” Del said. “The next train doesn’t leave until
six a.m. tomorrow.”

“Damn,” Gabe sighed.

Lee rubbed his neck. “I want to know about the trunk
and
the picture frame. Perhaps we’d all better lay our cards on the table. It seems
that Star’s been keeping us in the dark.”

For the next several minutes they took turns talking about
what they knew—the many, not a few, telephone calls, some picked up by maids,
some by family. The flowers, the trunk, the photograph, the Bible. At the end,
they stared at each other in stunned silence. By and by, Nick, heart galloping,
rose and started yanking clothes out of the bureau. Star might’ve left him, she
might hardly care about him at all, she might be selfish enough to give away
his child. But she was in danger and fool’s errand though it was, he couldn’t
stop loving her.

“Good idea,” Del said rising. “I’ll pack, also. Lee’s got to
stay with Jess, but I’ll come by later and we’ll finalize plans.”

“Lee,” Nick asked, as he pulled out a drawer and dropped its
contents in the trunk, “can you coordinate with Gabe? Wire us information as
you get it.”

“Of course,” Lee said. “I’ll speak to my father as well.
Perhaps Gabe, you’d join me? He may have resources you do not.”

Gabe hesitated. “From Boston, is he? I should be honored to
make his acquaintance. First, though, Nick, if you would be so obliging, I
would like a moment’s privacy with you.”

Nick frowned as he pulled his six-shooters from the bedside
table to lay on the bed. He couldn’t see what Gabe could have to say that the
others couldn’t know, but arguing would take precious time. “O.K.” They stepped
into the hall. “What is it?”

Gabe took a breath and put a hand on his shoulder. Something
crossed his face briefly before he said in a low voice, “Miss Montgomery shall
be fine, as long as you leave tomorrow and take Huntington. You’ll want the
assistance. But don’t—and I mean this in all earnestness—don’t allow him near
Mrs. Huntington. Understand?”

Nick frowned. That marriage had always made him uneasy and
Del’s notorious reputation for an explosive temper only crowded the mourners.
“You’ve heard of them in Philadelphia?”

Gabe smiled wryly, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “One
can hardly avoid it. Keep him as far away from her as possible.”

Nick sighed. “I’ll try, but I can’t keep a man from his wife
if he wants to see her.”

Gabe held his gaze a moment before dropping his arm with a
sigh. He shook his head. “You’re right,” he said looking away. “It’ll be for
Viv to manage then,” he added under his breath.

“Viv?”

Gabe looked back at him. “My sister-in-law. She’s quite, uh,
talented at cleaning up messes after the fact.” He took a breath and then
offered Nick one of his rare, real smiles. “You’ve got your guns. A rifle cane
too, I believe?”

“Yes,” Nick said. Had he told Gabe about that? “Star gave it
to me.”

“Good. Keep it with you at all times. You’ll need it.”

Shakespeare, Hamlet

Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

Star stared out the window at the passing landscape. It was
as flat as she felt. A hazy morning sun shone on miles and miles of bright
green cornfields.

“Two hours late,” Jane complained, sitting next to her. “We
ought to be in Chicago by now. You would think that without snow to slow the
rails, we’d be on time.”

Star shrugged. “The lines cannot always account for freight
traffic.”

“I don’t see why freight traffic can’t wait for
us
.
Are people not more important than produce? I dare say, I had the worst night’s
sleep of my entire life last night, with the train swaying from one side to the
other. They might slow it at night, don’t you think, to allow us to sleep?”

Sitting across from them, Simon scowled at Jane over his
book. “First they are too slow and then they are too fast. Is there nothing
that will please you?” he snapped.

Star glared at him. Since New York, his conciliatory manner
had changed, becoming increasingly domineering and patronizing.

“I am only suggesting,” Jane said in a whiny tone that
grated on Star’s nerves, “that they be a little more accommodating to the
passengers.”

“You are by far the worst traveler I have ever had the
displeasure to meet.”

Star winced. Jane’s whole body seemed to compress as she
said in a soft mewling voice, “I am ever so sorry, Simon. I did not mean to
discomfort you.”

“Then stop pestering me with your silly complaints,” he
said, rising.

“Oh, but where are you going?” Jane asked, reaching for his
hand.

He shook her off. “I am escaping your cloying company to
smoke a cigar.”

“Oh, Simon, I’m sorry,” she cried out. He stalked away,
leaving Jane in a veil of tears.

Star clenched her fist to control the urge to race after
Simon and slap him silly. “Do not apologize, Jane. He does not deserve it.”

“I oughtn’t to complain so much. Men don’t like it.”

Star’s eyes narrowed as anger tightened her belly. “Just
because a man doesn’t like something doesn’t mean you are obliged to stop it.
At all events, sleeping last night was difficult for everyone.” Especially for
those haunted by dreams of escaped demons choking them in their sleep. “I
suspect it made all of the passengers cross.”

“Including, Simon,” Jane defended.

“He is well bred enough, Jane, to know he oughtn’t to snarl
at us about it. Honestly, I cannot, for the life of me, see what you like in
him. He’s been absolutely boorish.”

“That’s just the discomfort of traveling,” she said, drying
her eyes with a handkerchief. “He’s always before been exceedingly considerate
of my welfare. Oh, I have some of his letters. You shall see for yourself.”

Star refrained from rolling her eyes, as Jane dug through
her purse. She pulled out several letters and then searched through them, no
doubt for the perfect example, full of flattery and poetry, for Jane responded
best to that. Whereas Star responded to rough-voiced whispers of erotic
direction—

She bit her lip as tears rushed to her eyes. Oh, she missed
him, with every last nerve in her body. Even a thousand miles travel couldn’t
wash it out of her.

Jane dropped a letter in her lap and Star, eager for
distraction, skimmed the first lines.

And froze.
Romeo
.

Her hands started shaking. Romeo’s handwriting. . .

“Well, Jane,” Simon said over them. He stopped abruptly. “Is
that one of my letters?” he demanded.

“Yes—you see—” Jane stopped, for even her poor observational
skills must acknowledge that something was dreadfully wrong.

“Why, I supposed then the cat is out of the bag,” he said
almost cheerfully, and sat down across from them again. He reached into his
pocket. For what? Star sucked in her breath. “Go on show them all to her if you
wish. After all, Virginia has shown my correspondence to all manner of people,
have you not? Including your cowboy-lover.”

Oh God, she couldn’t breathe—

“Correspondence to Star?” Jane squeaked.

“Yes,” he answered smoothly. “Permit me, my dear, to
re-introduce myself. I am Romeo, Virginia’s secret admirer.”

You belong to me.
He’d known about Nicholas and her
because he’d seen them, possibly first-hand. It had enraged him so entirely
that destroying Nicholas’s photograph had not eased his ire. And he employed
Jane’s love—carefully cultivated love—to drag her away from safety. Oh dear
God, she was in danger. They were
both
in danger.

“But—but—” Jane sputtered, stricken.

Saving them would require bold action. Star excelled at
boldness. “Yes, but it’s over now,” she said, rising. “Come along Jane, we have
endured quite enough of this.”

Holding her gaze, Simon withdrew his hand from his pocket,
along with a revolver, which he then concealed from casual view next to his
thigh. He pointed it at Jane. “My dear Virginia, oblige me by sitting back
down. Jane, compose yourself. You would not wish to make me nervous, would
you?”

Heart slamming into her chest, Star lowered her voice. “You
are not so stupid as to fire that. The porter would be upon you in a minute.”

He cocked his head, his smile never leaving his face. His
eyes were dark, cold. Why had she never noticed that before? “Did I never tell
you, Virginia, that my father works for the railroad? The porter is an old
friend of ours.”

Memory flashed through her mind. The porter had addressed
Simon by name and given them the best of sleeping arrangements. “He would not
countenance murder,” she bluffed, for who knew what the man might countenance?

“He’d think twice before accusing me, however. You might,
note, also, our seating arrangements.”

They were at the back of the train, separated from other
passengers by several empty rows. Simon could, she realized with a terrified
whirring in her brain, shoot them both and then escape out the door directly
behind her. The jump from the train
could
kill him, but it was far less
likely than that gun killing her and Jane first.

He watched her, his smile widening as if he enjoyed her
growing anxiety. He was playing with her. “I’d shoot her first, you know,” he
said pleasantly. “Do you want another death on your conscience?”

Jane let out a squeak of pain and horror. “Oh no, Simon, you
cannot mean it—”

“Shut up Jane,” he snapped, and then addressed Star in an
eerily jovial voice. “Do sit down, Virginia. You aren’t going anywhere.”

***

“And so, sir,” Nick said to Ward after finishing the details
of the rescue plan, “Del and I are leaving first thing in the morning. We’ll
return Star to you without any harm.”

Ward studied Nick from behind his desk. His face remained
remarkably calm, although Nick spied tightness around his eyes. “If Price has
not already harmed her. She ought not to have withheld this from me. It seems,
Nick, that we are once again indebted to you, this time for hiring Keller. You
trust him, I take it. The man has a reputation in Boston due to a scandal
several years back.”

“I do.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry, sir, I ought to have told
you instead and let you handle it.”

“
Star
ought to have told me. Trust me, she knew quite
well that you’d never risk her ire.” He paused. “You love her, I believe,
almost as much as I do.”

Nick’s started. Damn, what did a man say to that kinda
thing? How did he know?

Some things cannot be kept quiet . . . I suspect people
‘knew about us’ before we even did
.