Authors: Elizabeth McKenna
“Really?” She pouted a little.
“Really,” he agreed, smoothing away a lock of hair from her cheek.
“So, you wouldn’t mind if I kissed you a bit?” She reached up and put her arms around his neck, brushing her lips against his.
“Mmmm, not at all.”
“And you wouldn’t mind dropping the blanket?” She pressed her hips against his.
“Consider it done.” He tugged at one corner and the blanket fell to the floor.
Cera moved her hands down his back, caressing the muscles until she reached his hips. Switching to his front, she stroked him until he stiffened in her hand. Trying to hide her smile, she stood on her toes and kissed his nose.
“Well now, looks like you have something to think about all day too.” She sidestepped around him and grabbed the satchel.
Jake groaned as she pulled clothes out of the bag. “You’ll pay for that, Cera. Rest assured, you’ll pay.”
“Take it like a man—or maybe I should say ‘like a woman’—and get dressed. I want breakfast before we go talk to the chief.”
*******
When Cera and Jake arrived at the police station, the same bored officer staffed the front desk. She wondered if he ever went home and whether his wife minded his long absences. After another look at his stout body and unsightly face, she decided it was probably for the best.
Turning her mind to the matter at hand, she approached the desk and once again tried to smile sweetly at the officer. “Good morning to you, sir. We are here to see Chief Williams.”
The officer raised his eyebrows at them and grunted, “Is that so?”
Jake took a protective step forward, but she nudged him back. “Yes, we have most urgent business with him. Is he in yet?”
The officer’s eyes narrowed. Ignoring her question, he pointed a stubby finger at Jake. “The chief chewed me out pretty good yesterday because of you. How the hell was I supposed to know you were his friend and some big war hero?” He spit a large gob of tobacco juice into the spittoon, wiping the dribble from his mouth with the back of his hand. “You don’t look like a hero.”
Cera tried to laugh convincingly. “Oh! That was an amusing mix up wasn’t it? But that’s water over the dam. I’m sure the chief isn’t upset anymore—we certainly aren’t.” Jake opened his mouth to protest, but she waved a hand in front of his face to silence him. “So anyway, may we speak with him?”
“Sure you could, but he ain’t here.” The officer snickered as if he had said something amusing.
Trying to hold her temper, she pressed on. “Will he be in soon?”
“I don’t know. No one’s seen him today.”
This time Jake succeeded in stepping in front of her. “What do you mean?”
“Just what I said—no one’s seen him. Before he left here last night, he said he might have business to attend to today. He ain’t here, so I guess he’s tending to his business.”
Cera gave Jake an anxious look. “What kind of business?”
The officer leaned forward in his chair. “Do I look like a secretary? I don’t know what kind of business and even if I did, it sure wouldn’t be any of your business.” He leaned back, laced his fingers over his ample midsection, and glared at them from under half-lowered eyelids.
“So you have no idea where he is?” Jake asked.
“Are you deaf as well as dumb?” The officer shook his head in disgust. “War hero, my ass.”
Jake motioned toward the door with his chin. “Come on. Let’s go by his home. Maybe his wife will have more information.”
He took Cera’s arm and led the way. A few minutes later, they arrived at the front door of a small, two-story clapboard house. A middle-aged woman answered their knock.
“Yes, may I help you?”
Jake removed his hat. “Begging your pardon for the early hour, but are you Mrs. Williams, the chief’s wife?”
“Why, yes I am.”
“We’re looking for your husband. I’m an old friend—from the war.”
Mrs. Williams’ face broke out into a wide smile. “Of course, Captain Tanner! My husband told me all about you last night. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Won’t you come in?” The chief’s wife moved aside and waved them in. “I have a fresh pot of coffee ready if you would like some. I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name?”
“Cera Cassidy, ma’am. It is a pleasure to meet you.” She stuck out her hand and the chief’s wife shook it warmly. “And thank you for the offer of coffee, but we are in a bit of a hurry. We need to talk to your husband right away.”
“Oh, dear, has something happened?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” Jake reassured Mrs. Williams, his eyes shifting to Cera with a plea to remain silent. “We need to talk to him about some unfinished business.”
“Oh, well, I’m sorry. Andy isn’t here. He left early this morning for Sacramento. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Cera tried to keep the distress out of her voice. She had been so sure her troubles with Biggs were about to end. “No, I’m afraid not, but thank you for your time.” She nodded at Jake. “We best be going.”
As they headed for the door, Jake stopped and turned back to Mrs. Williams. “Would you mind if I left a note for the chief?”
“Not at all. Let me get you a pencil and paper.”
Jake scribbled a few lines and then handed the folded paper back to Mrs. Williams. “Please give it to him as soon as he returns. It’s urgent.”
After saying goodbye to the chief’s wife, Jake and Cera walked a few blocks in silence.
“Now what do we do?” Her eyes moved up and down the street, taking in the nearby pedestrians. “We can’t give the scroll to anyone but the chief. What did you write in the note?”
“I told him we were headed to the Buena Vista Winery. If he could meet us there, we might be able to help him with the problem we discussed at dinner.”
She clenched her fists in frustration. “We are so close to nailing Biggs, I hate to run away now. I feel like a coward, and that feeling doesn’t set well with me.”
Jake took her hand, smoothing out the fingers. “We need to think of the others. We can’t keep everyone safe here. Sometimes it’s better to retreat than attack. Trust me on this.”
“Do you think the chief will come?”
“He’ll come. He hates Biggs as much as we do.” Jake pointed toward the street. “There’s a cab. Let’s head back to Isaac’s. We’re wasting valuable daylight.”
*******
With a clear sky and a warm sun above them, they headed north toward Santa Rosa. The women squeezed into Isaac’s carriage, while the men flanked them on horses. Ginger and Cera took turns driving, trading off whenever they stopped to rest and stretch their legs. Though the terrain was hilly in places, they made good time despite their late start.
Mary Beth kept up a steady stream of chatter, entertaining her companions with stories of card games gone awry, and Cera felt grateful for the laughter. At the last minute, Isaac’s son, David, decided to join the group. She hoped it was because of a growing affection for Ginger and not only concern for his father’s safety.
As the sun began its descent in the sky, her mind turned more and more to the problem at hand. She still didn’t like running from Biggs, though she was willing to admit the wisdom of it. Nevertheless, she couldn’t see past the present moment—what should they do while waiting for the police chief—and what should they do after turning over the scroll? Will it be the end of their troubles? She doubted it would be that easy. So how should they prepare themselves for the worst to happen?
Breaking into Cera’s thoughts, Ginger asked, “Have you ever been to Tessa’s winery?”
She shook her head and then slapped the reins, urging the horses to conquer the current hill. “Isaac described it once as being on a beautiful piece of land with views of the surrounding mountains. The house itself is very large and Tessa doesn’t have any family, so there’ll be plenty of room for us.”
“That may be so, but we’re not on a social visit. Tessa’s pretty brave agreeing to all of this.”
Cera frowned. “Brave or stupid, but I don’t think Biggs will follow us. I imagine all of his criminal activities keep him busy. Hopefully, he’ll think he scared us permanently out of town. When we meet up with Chief Williams, we’ll show him Lan Chiu’s name on the scroll. Then he can arrest Biggs and the Chinese Tong for murder and kidnapping, and we can come home.”
“You think it will be that simple?” Ginger’s face clearly showed her doubt.
Sighing, she looked off into the distance. “I’m praying it will be that simple, Ginger. I’m just praying.”
******
Biggs watched the smoke rise from the cigar pinched between his finger and thumb, while across the warehouse, Quinn and Lewis punched the guttersnipe. With blood running freely from the boy’s broken nose, Biggs figured it wouldn’t be long before he told them what they needed to know. He took one last puff from the cigar and exhaled noisily. Usually he admired loyalty, but this boy was wasting his time.
“That’s enough,” he ordered, walking over to them.
Breathing heavily, Quinn gave one final kick before heeding his boss’ command. “He ain’t talking.”
As soon as the blows stopped, the youngster curled up on the dirt floor, moaning in pain.
Pulling a Bowie knife from a leather sheath attached to his waist, Biggs pointed to the boy. “Stand him up.”
Grabbing him by the suspenders and hair, Lewis hauled the boy to his feet.
Quinn laughed. “Look, he pissed himself.”
Biggs silenced Quinn’s laughter with a glare. “Did you at least find out the street rat’s name?”
“Before we snatched him from the piano player’s house, I heard the housekeeper call him ‘Sam,’” Lewis offered.
Biggs laid the knife blade flat against the boy’s neck. “You don’t want to be dead meat, do you, Sam?”
Eyes wide with terror, Sam whimpered in reply.
“That’s what I thought.” Biggs smiled. “Now, I’m sure everyone will understand if you tell us where Miss Cassidy and her washed up whores went. You’re only a child. They can’t expect you to die for them, can they?”
Tears fell down the boy’s cheek, merging with the blood from his nose. Pink splotches of the blood and snot mixture dotted his torn shirt. “Please…please don’t hurt me no more…”
Biggs licked the sweat from above his thick lips. He loved when they started to beg. Shifting his legs to conceal the growing bulge in his pants, his mind wandered to when and where he could satisfy his body’s desire. First things first, he disciplined himself.
He applied pressure with the knife’s tip until a few drops of blood spurted from the boy’s scrawny neck, making Sam gasp at the new source of pain. Keeping his voice soft, Biggs urged, “Just tell us where they are.”
“And you’ll let me go?” Sam’s face showed distrust, but his eyes still reflected hope.
Biggs breathed, “On my mother’s grave, I promise you will be free.”
“When they couldn’t give the Chinese scroll to the police chief, they skipped town,” the boy said in a rush. “They headed to a winery in Santa Rosa.”
Biggs stepped back, his mouth suddenly dry. “Chinese scroll? What are you talking about?”
Sam’s frightened eyes shifted back and forth between the men. “Umm, I dunno know. Some paper they got all excited about.”
Grabbing the boy by the front of his shirt, Biggs demanded, “How did they get this paper?”
Sam’s body trembled as he answered. “I gave it to ‘em.”
Biggs took a deep breath. Keeping his voice level as if he was a schoolteacher and the boy his pupil, he asked, “And where did
you
get it?”
“One of my gang pinched it from the Tong.”
Biggs threw Sam to the ground. “Dammit, that whore is going to pay for this! I’ll kill her with my own hands. We have to get that scroll back or that Chinese bastard Yee will cut off our balls.” He pointed the knife again. “Do you know the name of the winery?”
“Buena Vista, I think. Somethin’ Mexican like that.”
“Good. See how easy that was?” Biggs patted Sam’s head and then wiped the knife clean using the boy’s shirt. He almost laughed at the relief on the boy’s face. The idiot actually believed they were going to let him go. “Kill him and then meet me back at my office. Be ready to ride. I want you two to head out while I round up the rest of the gang.”
Biggs walked slowly away from his men and the now screaming boy. As he checked the time on his pocket watch, his other hand moved down the inside of his pants. As the screams grew louder, pleasure filled his hand.
******
Isaac whistled to Ginger and pointed to a clearing a short distance up the road. As they approached it, she slowed the wagon allowing him to grab the horses’ harness. He guided the team to a shady spot and unhitched them, while Jake and David helped the women out of the carriage.
“Ugh, it’s been awhile since I’ve had to travel this far in a wagon,” Sadie said as she rubbed the knots out of her back. “I sure don’t miss it.”
“I could use a bath,” Mary Beth added. “I feel like I have road dust on every inch of my body, including between my teeth.”
“That’s because your mouth’s been open the whole day,” Sonya replied dryly.