Ask a Shadow to Dance (29 page)

They followed a couple dressed in formal evening wear onto the dock then veered left to the Showboat where Jim was talking to a couple of crew members. As soon as he had each one clear on responsibilities for the cruise, he took David and Joe back to his office behind the gift shop.

“Okay, Jim, I’ll need complete privacy on the third deck tonight, for about half an hour, as soon as you can manage it after we leave.”

“What else?”

“I’m going to try to get three people off another boat that’s cruising tonight. If I manage it, I’ll need a place to take them. They’ll require medical treatment.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed and his forehead creased with disbelief. “I’m not following.”

“You don’t have to understand it. Will there be a place for me to treat them, assuming I get them on board?”

“Bar on the first deck, stern. I can run everybody up front.”

“Thanks, Jim. I owe you one.”

“The next time you go on vacation, take me with you.
Anywhere. Don’t bring me back for at least a month. Someplace with palm trees and sunshine and girls who think wearing clothes is against their religion.”

I laughed. “You got it.”

When they got back outside, Bob was there. They boarded the
Memphis Queen III
.

Chapter Eighteen

“Where on earth could he be?” Lisette said aloud, echoing the phrase screaming through her mind. David would never have been gone so long if something hadn’t gone wrong.

She went through the house again, checking every door and window, making sure they hadn’t been disturbed. The house remained as quiet as a tomb. She tried to shake that thought.

She was halfway up the stairs before she fully realized what she was doing. But it didn’t matter. She kept going, into her secret room, where she’d spent hundreds of hours of her childhood.

Opposite the attic, this room sat on top of the house like a crown, bestowing the finishing touch to the Italianate architecture. The trio of arched windows drew her like magic. She gazed toward the river and saw the top deck of the
Cajun Star
, awaiting passengers for its last cruise down the Mississippi. Black smoke curled lazily above the twin smokestacks. When the boilers were running at full capacity, smoke and fire would belch from the stacks in thick columns.

The watch Lisette had pinned to her left shoulder told her they had only an hour before they had to be on that boat, according to Andrew’s ultimatum. Maybe David could find Jacob and Aunt Portia before then.

How many hours had she gazed out these windows as a child, dressed in Mother’s old clothes, her feathered hats and boas on her head and around her neck? Lisette wondered.

She and Delia, her best friend in
all the world, pretended they were fine ladies. Taking turns, they called on each other, served tea in chipped china cups, ate biscuits and cookies and sandwiches prepared by their cook—Aunt Portia—and gossiped about everyone they knew.

“Lydia has a new baby,” Lisette would say, sipping tea with her little finger pointed daintily toward the ceiling.

“How marvelous,” Delia would answer, brushing a crumb from her chin. “Was it a boy or a girl?”

“A girl.
She has her mother’s chin.”

“How dreadful.”

They would burst into peals of laughter over Lydia’s chin, sometimes spewing cookies and tea across the table and onto the rug.

Mostly though, they stood at the windows, staring through the trees toward the river, speaking in hushed tones about private and scary things.

“The man I will someday marry,” Delia would whisper, “will be tall and handsome, with flashing eyes and a quick wit. He will adore me above all he possesses and would throw it all away in a second if given a choice between his riches and me.” At this, she would sigh. “I shall be the most beautiful lady in Memphis, except for you, of course, Lisette. You’ll be the most beautiful too.”

“Of course.”

“I shall ride in an elegant carriage with matching horses with plumes on their harnesses. Everyone will sigh when we pass and say, ‘There they are. Can you believe how beautiful she is? Such a perfect couple.’”

It would then be Lisette’s turn.

“The man I will someday marry will be kind and gentle and will love me more than life itself.”

“Will he be tall?”

“Perhaps. Tall enough that I shall look up into his eyes when he holds me.” More sighs. “But not so tall that I could not circle his neck with my arms and kiss him without stretching upward too far.”

“Not too far . . .”

“Above all, he will love the world as I love it and take me to the farthest reaches of this continent, across the seas and around the world. Every wonder of the world will be ours to see and experience and share.”

These dreams occupied them by the hour. They never tired of repeating them.

Before Lisette reached the age of twenty-two, Delia married Fenimore Byerly, an employee of the Tennessee Brewery, and bore him three children in three years. Fenimore was short, plump and balding. Delia swore he was the epitome of “the man she would someday marry.”

Lisette heard noises below and rushed down the stairs, frantic to see David.

She stopped mid-way down the final flight. Andrew stood just inside the front door. The facing on the front door was splintered. Hot anger flooded through her.

“I’ve come to take you to the boat, Lisa. Get your things.”

“I’m going nowhere without David,” she said, as calmly and steadily as she could.

“Well, then you’re going to be waiting a long time. He isn’t coming.”

Her heart pounded mercilessly in her chest. What had Andrew done to David?

He guessed what she was thinking. “Oh, he’s alive and well, although embarrassed and rather wet, would be my guess.”

What on earth could he be talking about?

“He took another swim in the Peabody fountain and disappeared, just as he did the first time I met him. Isn’t it clever the way the fountain has that effect on him?” He shook his head mockingly.

He came toward her. She backed up the stairs, searching for a way to escape him. He matched every step, his eyes gleaming wickedly, his forced smile chilling her as no north wind ever could. There was no way to leave the house, short of plunging out a window, on any floor except the first. She was trapped. But she would never surrender.

Lisette whirled and ran up the steps, around and up the next flight, desperate to reach the secret room, but his hands closed on her shoulders before she reached the third floor and he dragged her down. She tried to scratch or bite him, but he held her from behind, his arm so tight across her breasts she almost screamed with the pain. She kicked backward, hoping to dislodge his hold, but he twisted her around and struck her face so hard she
almost blacked out.

“Stop it! I’ll beat you to death where you stand! Do you hear me?” He struck her again.

Weeping, her head throbbing until she thought it might explode, she stopped fighting. She was no good to Jacob or Aunt Portia beaten to a bloody pulp.

Andrew dragged her roughly down the stairs to the foyer, through the front door, which he left standing open. A carriage waited. He shoved her inside, climbed in,
then grabbed her wrists before she could orient herself enough to attempt escape. He yelled to the driver who slapped the horses sharply. They leapt away, jarring the carriage, throwing her back against the seat. Andrew raised his hand as though to hit her again.

“No! Please, I’ll be still. I promise.”

He lowered his hand. His eyes no longer held that same cold gleam she’d seen before. There remained only a frightening madness, pain she’d never imagined, and cruelty born of neglect and apathy.

Dear God, let David be all right, she prayed. She sensed he was no longer in this century. Through the past week she had come to recognize his presence like a signature, a feeling deep inside which lay warm and comfortable in her soul as nothing ever had.

The dock was alive with the fierce activity of loading trunks and baggage, cargo and supplies for the week-long trip to New Orleans. Arriving passengers chattered and laughed, eager to begin a journey she knew would end in tragedy.

The nonstop time required to reach New Orleans was probably no more than three or four days, but that duration doubled with the habit of stopping repeatedly to take on more cargo. But these stops were irrelevant on this particular trip. After midnight, the
Cajun Star
would cruise a different river. And all these people would be gone forever.

“We’re here. Smile, Lisa. Let everyone see how happy you are to be going home to New Orleans.” Andrew held onto her arm while she stepped down from the carriage. She had no baggage, nothing to qualify her as a passenger of the
Star
for the next week. Perhaps that fact would afford her an opportunity to alert someone to her plight. If she tried to attract attention by screaming or yelling, Andrew would knock her senseless and somehow explain away her distress. She had to speak directly to the one person on this boat known and trusted. The thought gave her a burst of optimism and hope.

David was nowhere to be seen. He must not have been able to return. It was up to Lisette to protect herself and her family and somehow get them off this boat before midnight.

She examined every face, hoping to see the Captain supervising the loading of cargo, but he wasn’t there. They approached the boarding plank.

Andrew whispered harshly, “One sound from you and I’ll knock you unconscious and throw you in the river. You’ll drown before anyone knows what’s happened.”

She nodded tersely.

He handed a ticket to the purser standing beside the plank. “Mrs.
Westmoreland, bound for New Orleans. Her trunks are already on board.”

The purser frowned, his forehead creasing. “I have no record of any trunks with that name.”

Andrew laughed awkwardly. “Try the name Morgan. I may have used her maiden name by mistake when I brought them.”

The Purser checked his cargo manifest,
then nodded, the creases in his forehead easing. “Morgan. Two large trunks.” He tipped his hat to Lisette. “Have a nice trip, Mrs. Westmoreland.”

She nodded.
Two large trunks.

“Not one word to the Captain. There isn’t a lot of air in those trunks. You wouldn’t want dear Papa to run out of air, now, would you?
Or Aunt Portia? What a pity that would be.”

Lisette squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “Bastard,” she breathed just loud enough for him to hear.

“I thought you might approve. Now, up the plank with you. I intend to see that you are comfortably settled before I leave you to your cruise.”

“Where are those trunks?”

“I had them stored.” He reached into his pocket. “The location is in this envelope. I’ll give it to you when I leave the boat. Not one instant before. If you make a scene, I promise Papa and Aunt Portia will suffer for the mistake.”

She said nothing. Rage threatened to blot out every bit of sensible thought needed to defeat this monster. At the very least, he should die with them.

Chapter Nineteen

People flooded onto the
Memphis Queen III
. David wondered if they were going to be able to find any place on this boat where they could be alone. All the preliminaries for casting off, the greetings and instructions, the opening of the bar for those who wanted to get a head start on the party, drove David crazy. Why couldn’t they dispense with all of this and get on with the cruise! They made their way up to the third deck. It was crawling with people.

“Hey, Bro, you’re letting it get to you.”

David’s first reaction was to lash out at Joe, but he was right. It
was
getting to David. Time was running out. Only a few hours remained until midnight. If the boilers were destined to explode, and the result as grisly as he’d read in a book about the
Sultana
tragedy, they had to be off the boat and a decent distance away to avoid being injured or killed by the explosion. The possibilities scurried in his brain, like mice fleeing a sinking ship. Joe patted his back. David hadn’t answered because he didn’t trust himself to say something polite.

“It’s going to be all right, David.”

That did it. “How the hell do you know that?”

Joe gave him apologetic look. “I don’t. I just know we have to believe it, that’s all. Looking for the worst means that’s what we’ll end up with. We have to be positive.”

“Otherwise, I won’t be calm enough to make this work.” David took a long, slow, deep breath. “Not knowing is killing me. Not knowing about the boat and what’s going to happen, not knowing about Lisette and what that bastard could be doing to her.” He rubbed his eyes. How in the hell could anyone be calm?

“They’re casting off now, so we’ll be underway soon. Did Jim say this deck would be available? I can’t see how, with this many people on board.”

They were all over the boat, laughing, talking, drinking. The band was playing in the ballroom on the second deck where David had seen Lisette the first time.