Authors: Connie Mason
“We’ve got him trapped, Casey,” he called out. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Be careful, Mark.”
The intruder spat out a curse when he realized he was in trouble. He had expected everyone to be sleeping and had walked unsuspecting into a hornet’s nest. He cast about for an escape, saw the lamp, and acted instinctively. Grasping the lamp by its base, he dashed it to the floor. It sputtered a moment then burst into flame.
Mark and Casey started forward at the same time. A small section of the carpet caught fire, and if it
wasn’t contained the entire upper floor would go up in flames. Obviously the intruder was desperate. Mark and Casey sprinted toward the fire with one thought in mind. The intruder reacted at the same time.
The intruder and Casey passed one another on the staircase, going in opposite directions. The man shoved past Casey, not stopping until he reached the front door. Casey glanced over his shoulder in time to see him rush out the unlocked door. Casey grunted in surprise. He was certain he’d locked that door before retiring to the study earlier that night. But there was no time for reflection now. Barefoot and wearing long johns, Mark was already fighting the blaze with a blanket he had pulled from his bed.
Belle could no longer stand the suspense of not knowing if Casey was all right. She had heard the gunshots, heard Casey shout for her to remain in her room, and her heart thumped wildly against her breast as she waited … and waited. She heard scuffling outside the door and smelled smoke. Fear for Casey overcame her panic and she threw open the door. She saw a dark figure rushing headlong down the stairs, and she saw flames licking down the hallway.
She released her breath in a shaky sigh when she saw Casey at the top of the staircase, apparently unharmed. He raced toward the fire, ducking into their room on the way. Words were unnecessary as he seized the water pitcher from the commode and ran back into the hall, where he dumped the entire contents onto the flames. The fire sputtered then died a natural death.
“Is everyone all right?” Casey called out.
Wan Yo hobbled into the hallway, followed by
Tommy and Greta. The servants on the third floor had heard the commotion and were creeping down the stairs. Casey saw them and told them all was well and that they should return to their room.
“We’re all fine,” Greta said, searching Mark for signs of injury. “What was that all about?”
“I wish I knew,” Casey muttered. “Did anyone see his face?”
“It was too dark,” Mark said, “but he was big. How did he get in?”
“Through the front door,” Casey explained. “I know I locked it so he had to have a key. Get all the locks changed tomorrow, Mark. Wan Yo, see that all the locks on the windows are intact.” Both men nodded. “I’ll search the ground for clues first thing tomorrow. Everyone go to bed now, the danger is over.”
“I will stand guard tonight,” Wan Yo said as he moved down the stairs. “You and missy go to bed.”
“I’ll stay with Tommy,” Greta offered.
“Take Belle to bed, Casey,” Mark advised, “she looks done in.”
The hallway was empty now but for Belle and Casey. Belle had said little during the past ten minutes, and Casey wondered if she was in shock.
Belle was the first to speak, her eyes never leaving his face. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m fine. I was worried about you. I heard gunshots.”
“It was too dark to see clearly but I don’t think I hit him.” He guided her into her room and closed the door behind them. “Go to bed, love, you need your rest.”
“Who do you think it was?”
“I don’t know, but he seemed to know exactly where he was going. He had a key to the front door. Perhaps a former employee was looking to rob us.”
“I don’t think so,” Belle said slowly. “There’s more to it than that.”
“I’ll take care of it. Go to bed.” He turned to leave.
“Casey, don’t leave me! Stay with me tonight. I need you.”
She was trembling. Casey swept her into his arms and carried her to bed.
“Y
ou want me to stay with you?” Casey asked, both surprised and pleased. Belle had never asked him to stay with her before. He placed her in the center of the bed, then stood back and searched her face for a glimmer of her thoughts.
“I was afraid for you. I don’t want anything to happen to you,” Belle said on a quivering sigh.
“You were afraid for me?” A slow smile lifted the corners of his lips. “Do you realize what you’re saying?”
Belle nodded, abruptly realizing how desperately she’d miss this man if he left her. And he might if she continued to treat him with suspicion instead of the love he deserved. “I need you tonight, Casey.
“If all it took was a shock to bring you to your senses, I would have created one a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry … I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
Casey suffered a jolt of disappointment. He should have known better than to expect more. She was frightened. It wasn’t as if she wanted him. “Is that all?”
“Will you stay?” Belle asked, skirting his question.
Casey let his breath out slowly. “Of course.” Belle scooted to the far side of the bed as Casey began undressing. He slid beneath the covers nude, but he made no move toward Belle.
Belle couldn’t blame Casey for not wanting to touch her. She knew he expected her to express more than a need for his comfort but some perverse demon inside her resisted. What would happen if she told him she loved him? she wondered. Would he become frightened and leave? Or would he express his own love? Did she want to risk rejection? She knew he wasn’t going to leave her now that there was a baby. Why couldn’t she be satisfied with that? Because it wasn’t enough, she told herself.
“Hold me, Casey,” Belle pleaded. She still hovered at the edge of shock. Tonight had been a frightening experience. What if something had happened to Casey?
Casey knew Belle spoke from fright and shock but he could no more keep his arms from embracing her than he could stop breathing. He pulled her close, inhaling deeply of the soft, flowery scent that clung to her hair and skin.
“Nothing will happen to you or our child while I’m here to protect you, love.”
She cuddled close to him. “I know. I’ve always felt safe with you.”
Casey was inordinately pleased by Belle’s admission. It wasn’t what he’d hoped for but it was enough for now. “Go to sleep, love. You’ve had quite a fright for a pregnant lady.”
“I’m not sleepy. Make love to me, Casey.”
Casey went still. Belle had never asked to be
made love to before. Had shock done something to that stubborn reserve she’d always imposed upon herself? As much as he wanted her, he couldn’t take advantage of her fragile emotions.
“That’s not what you really want, love.”
“Dammit, Casey, I know what I want and I want to feel you over me, around me, inside me. Flesh to flesh, mouth to mouth. I want to be totally consumed by you until I can no longer think. Please, Casey, love me.”
“You make me crazy, sweetheart. I’d love you every day of your life if you’d let me. Are you sure? I’ve never been certain you truly wanted me. I was experienced enough to make you want me, but that’s not the same as knowing you desire me in the same way I desire you.”
The words Belle wanted to say lodged in her throat. Instead she showed him by action how much she wanted him. She groped for his manhood and stroked his thick length to the root. Casey went rigid, letting her small hand handle him in any way that pleased her. She was slowly driving him toward ecstasy and he groaned with the need she was creating inside him. When she lowered her head and opened her mouth to him, he cried out her name. Her mouth was hot and wet and he felt a powerful climax building inside him. He allowed her free reign a few moments more then pulled her away and tucked her beneath him.
“Now it’s your turn,” Casey said in a low, sexy growl.
He proceeded to torment her sweet body with his mouth and hands until she begged him to come inside her. Grasping her hips, he thrust full and deep into her soft warmth and stroked them both to
shimmering splendor. When it was over, Casey couldn’t recall when he’d been so thoroughly sated, so perfectly at peace. When he raised up to ask Belle if she felt the same, he was disappointed to find she had fallen asleep. He sighed regretfully, wondering if she had turned to him only out of fear and shock and if he’d ever know the truth.
The following morning Casey arose before Belle had awakened and made a thorough search of the grounds. He found several footprints, but nothing to indicate the identity of the intruder. Mark saw to the changing of the locks on the doors and Wan Yo reported that the locks on all the windows were intact. Casey and Mark went into the study after breakfast to discuss the break-in the night before.
“What do you think?” Mark asked curiously.
“The intruder had no interest in the study, where the safe and money were likely to be found. He went directly upstairs to the master bedroom. It was almost as if he knew exactly where he was going.”
“Do you think it was one of the discharged servants?”
“It’s possible, but I don’t think so. The only one who might match the size of our intruder is Kellerman, and there is no reason for him to hurt Belle.”
Mark scooted to the edge of his seat and leaned forward. “Do you actually think the intruder wanted to hurt Belle?”
“Call it a hunch, but that man meant harm to either Belle or myself. Maybe both of us.”
“Damn! For what reason?”
“I think it might be Hank Jones but I can’t be sure. I’ve got my work cut out for me if I’m going to find the culprit. Stick around the house today, will
you, Mark? Make sure my stubborn wife stays out of trouble.”
“That’s a tall order, brother. I’ll do my best.”
Casey found Kellerman in a squalid brothel on Kearny Street. Casey dragged the man out of a whore’s bed and held a gun to his head while he posed his questions. Without weapons to bolster his courage, Kellerman spilled his guts. He admitted that he had sold the key to the house, which he had kept after McAllister’s murder, to a man named Jones, with whom he had struck up a conversation one night in a saloon. He had also provided Jones with a description of the inside of the house.
Casey’s dire threats gleaned no more information and he left Kellerman to his whore, warning him that it would be unhealthy for him to remain in town. Kellerman got the hint. He was gone before sundown. That still didn’t solve Casey’s problem. Evidently Jones had gone into hiding for he had literally dropped out of sight.
Mark refused to allow Belle out of the house during Casey’s absence and Greta made certain she obeyed his orders. Belle wanted to visit Harry Hopkins and assure him that they hadn’t given up, that Casey was trying to find the real killer. She worried excessively about Harry’s health. If not for her, Harry would not be in jail now. But if he hadn’t falsely confessed to the crime she would most likely be in prison, or maybe worse. Juries had been known to sentence women to death.
That night, when Casey joined Belle in bed, he told her that he had found Kellerman, and revealed what Kellerman had said.
“So Hank Jones had a key to our house,” Belle
said, shivering with the thought. “Why would he want to hurt us?”
“My guess is that we’re getting too close to the truth about McAllister’s death. Once Harry Hopkins is hung for the murder he figures he’s off the hook. Until then he’s going to do everything he can to keep us from digging into his past. Don’t worry, love, I’m not taking any chances where you or my child are concerned.”
Casey didn’t make love to her that night, but Belle was content to lie in his arms and listen to the thumping of his heart.
The next day Casey reported the break-in to the sheriff then resumed his search for Hank Jones. To Belle’s delight Mark was unexpectedly called away to the winery late in the afternoon. While Greta was busy with Tommy’s lessons, she was able to sneak away unnoticed with a basket of nourishing food for Harry Hopkins. Sheriff Rogan was not in his office when she arrived at the jailhouse, but the deputy complied with her request to visit the prisoner.
Harry Hopkins smiled wanly at Belle through the bars. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“I’ve brought hot soup and freshly baked bread. Jail food didn’t agree with me and it probably doesn’t with you, either.” She passed a jar of soup and two thick slices of warm, buttered bread through the bars.
Harry sipped the soup and sighed. “It does taste better than the fried potatoes and beans I was served for lunch. Thank you.”
She watched him eat, wishing she could do more. When he finished, he passed the empty soup jar to her.
“Casey is still looking for Hank Jones,” Belle said. “Our house was broken into last night. Casey believes Jones is responsible. Someone means us harm and we have no other enemies that I know of.”
“I wish you’d let well enough alone,” Harry said softly. “I’m dying anyway, a little neck stretching isn’t going to hurt anything.”
“How do you know you’re dying?” Belle asked fiercely.
“Look at me. How can you doubt it? I visited a doctor a spell back and he told me there was a cancer growing in my stomach. He gave me a few months to live. Fessing up to the crime you were charged with was the most selfless thing I’ve ever done. I can die happy, knowing I done one good thing in my life.”
“I won’t let you die, Harry, I won’t!”
“Those words mean more to me than you can guess. It’s been a long time since anyone cared whether I lived or died.”
“I care, so does Casey.”
Harry gave her a gap-toothed smile. “Best you get yourself home, little gel. It’s nigh on to suppertime.” He glanced out the barred window behind him, concerned over the lengthening shadows. “Your husband will be worried about you.”
Belle was startled to see that it had grown dark during the length of her visit. Casey would be livid if he arrived home before she did and found her missing. Perhaps he was already out looking for her.
“I’ll try to return tomorrow. Don’t worry. If you have to die it’s going to be in bed.” Her bravado didn’t fool Harry. He had already resigned himself to death, and the view of the gallows through his tiny window confirmed his fate.