Destiny's Daughter (37 page)

What was left of the setting sun was an orange haze dipping below the waters of the Mississippi. The air was so heavy with moisture it tasted of rain. Heat lightning danced on the horizon, flickering in the swiftly gathering darkness. Chase, dressed all in black, mounted a fresh horse and headed for the wharf. Though worried, his mind was more at rest, knowing Annalisa was safe and in the competent hands of Dr. Lynch and Hattie Lee.

She had fought him. Knowing how obstinate she was, he hadn’t played by the rules. But it was the only way he knew to force her to take care of herself. The doctor would give her something to help her sleep, and while she rested, her body would heal itself.

The news about Nate Blackwell’s financial affairs puzzled him. Nate was a wealthy man. Though much of his property had been destroyed during the war, he was hard-working, ambitious. The crops he had planted were producing more than enough to pay the outstanding debt on the plantation. In a few more years the land would be operating at full capacity. The improvements on the boat must have been expensive. Why would Nate spend the money on such luxuries if he were unable to pay his back taxes? Nate’s ship had been spotted several times late at night. The cargo it carried was rumored to be men, strangers to Louisiana. Yet Nate claimed that the ship never left the harbor. Something was very wrong. None of this rang true. Yet, Chase thought, urging his horse faster, he had promised Annalisa.

Annalisa. What a remarkable woman. He had never known anyone with such strength of will. With each day, he loved her more. And yet he had steadfastly refused to allow her to get too close to his private life. Despite their lovemaking, he had selfishly kept much of himself from her. His hand clenched around the reins. He had kept the truth from her for too long. Originally he had thought her ignorance of the facts would guarantee her safety. Now he knew better. As long as Montagnet continued to wield power, Annalisa would never be safe. The madman had to be stopped for good. And when he was, Chase promised himself, he intended to go to her with the facts. In that moment, they would both be set free.

Hearing the slap of waves against the shore, Chase dismounted and tied his horse. From this point on he would have to go on foot in order to avoid detection. His first stop would be Nate’s ship.

The closer he got to the wharf, the stronger his feelings grew that something about this deal was all wrong.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, reminding Chase of the boom of cannons. The sound of war would probably never leave him. Walking soundlessly through the tangled growth of vegetation that grew at the water’s edge, he ducked down as a light came into view. Oars dipping, a flat-bottomed boat rounded a bend in the river and sliced silently through the current. As the boat glided out of slight, Chase stood and made his way to where Nate’s boat was docked.

For long minutes he waited in the shadows, watching the vessel bobbing in the water. There was no sign of life aboard. Patting the package of money wedged firmly in his pocket, Chase darted across the wharf and climbed over the railing of the boat. Flattening himself into the narrow strip of shadow, he moved stealthily toward the prow. Every few feet he paused to listen for any sign of trouble. The night was quiet. Despite the heat he felt a sudden chill. Too quiet. There were none of the usual night sounds. No night birds cried. No voices of drunken sailors floated out on die breeze from the decks of other boats. Why hadn’t he noticed it before coming aboard? The hair on the back of his neck rose. It was all wrong.

Turning, he began to run for the rail. A figure stepped from the shadows. Chase felt the cold metal of a pistol pressed against his throat.

While other men caught and pinned his arms, Charles Montagnet’s voice sounded triumphant. "Monsieur Masters. We meet again. Odd, is it not? We went fishing for the Archangel of Mercy. And in our net we find—you."

*  *  *

Annalisa lay still while Dr. Lynch poked and probed the gash on her head.

"You may have suffered a mild concussion. We don’t know much about head injuries yet. Some people seem to recover immediately. Others suffer headaches, fainting spells, dizziness." He held up his hand. "How many fingers do you see?"

"Doctor." She hated this fuss. She wanted to be left alone. "I can see perfectly well."

"How many fingers?"

She let out a sigh of frustration. "Three."

"Very good. Now I want you to drink this powder in a little water."

"Why?"

"It will help you sleep."

She turned her head aside like a recalcitrant child. "I don’t want it."

"Take your medicine, child, and stop wasting the doctor’s time." Hattie Lee loomed over her, waving a glass and spoon.

"You take it, Hattie Lee. I can sleep perfectly well without it."

The doctor’s voice was patient. "You’ve been through a terrible ordeal, Miss Montgomery. Your sleep may be punctuated by bad dreams. This potion will help you sleep soundly."

"No, doctor." She turned her head away in firm refusal.

Glancing at Hattie Lee, he shrugged and closed his bag. "I’ll stop by in the morning." He touched Annalisa’s arm. "I hope you manage to get some sleep."

"Thank you, doctor."

Annalisa listened as all the way down the stairs Hattie Lee lectured the doctor about allowing his patients to overrule him. With a weak smile, she pulled the blanket around her shoulders and closed her eyes. She needed no powders or potions to help her sleep. It was enough to be lying between clean satin sheets in her own bed, knowing she was far away from the clutches of Montagnet. When Chase returned, and only then, would she sleep.

She heard the low hum of voices, the clatter of carriage wheels as Dr. Lynch drove off. A few minutes later she heard the thrum of horses’ hooves and the din of voices raised in alarm. More alert, she recognized Nate Blackwell’s voice.

Sitting up, she listened as the words grew louder. Swinging her feet to the floor, she searched for a shawl to wrap around her immodest nightshift. Before she could reach the door of her room, it was flung open.

"Nate. I was just coming down." Seeing the look on his face, she felt her heart begin to race. "What is it?"

"The others just told me the news of the latest foreclosure. It must be a mistake. There are no taxes owed on my property."

"Are you certain? Could there be some debts incurred while you were away?"

"Annalisa, take my word for it. There are no debts on my land."

"But why would the bank threaten to foreclose on your boat as well as your property?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea. Maybe it was Willis’s idea of a joke."

Watching him, the truth suddenly dawned. "Or a plot to trap the Archangel of Mercy. Thank heavens Chase found you in time."

"Chase?" Nate gave her a blank look. "What are you talking about?"

"Chase has been our intermediary."

Nate continued to stare at her without comprehension.

Annalisa gave him a knowing look. "There is no longer any need to hide the truth from me, Nate. I know. I’ve known all along that l’Archange de Miséricorde is you."

Nate caught her hands and led her to the bed where he gently forced her to sit. "Hattie Lee told me about your ordeal, Annalisa. I can see that you are more distraught than you realize. You must be exhausted. You make no sense."

She felt her patience beginning to snap. "Stop treating me like a child. You and Chase. You continually treat me as if I haven’t a brain in my head. I know that you’re the mysterious benefactor who has been going around giving money to the needy. When I figured it out, I made a bargain with Chase. I would pass along any information to him, and he would in turn take it to you. We’ve been working together for many months."

"Annalisa." Nate held her cold hands in his and gave her a gentle smile. "I have no knowledge of this Archangel. I admire him greatly. But I assure you, I am not he. And as for Chase Masters, he has never come to me with information."

For the longest time, she simply sat and stared at Nate, trying to comprehend all he had said. At last she gave a long sigh. "You are truly not the Archangel?"

He shook his head.

"And Chase has never come to you with the information I gave him?"

Again he shook his head.

"But each time I told him about a foreclosure, the family in question received the necessary sum of money. That means that either he gave the information to someone else, or . . ."

Nate watched her, trying to piece together what she was saying. ". . . Chase himself is l’Archange de Miséricorde!"

Clapping a hand to her mouth, she stood and began pacing. "Oh Nate. It’s a trap. Don’t you see? They set out to trap the Archangel. Chase. And I’ve sent him to his death."

*  *  *

The women’s voices were a babble of protest. In their midst, Annalisa, wearing a black gown, her hair tied back in a snood of black lace, ignored their arguments while she pulled on black kid riding gloves.

"Chérie, what makes you think you’re any smarter than Chase Masters? If he walked into a trap, how can you possibly get him out of it?" Gabrielle wrung her hands and wished with all her might that James Lynch were still here. He would talk some sense into her.

"Think what you’re doing, child. Are you going to just ride up and start shooting?" Hattie Lee stood, hands on hips, staring at Annalisa as if she were addled.

"Send for the chief of police, Annalisa. He’s our friend. He’ll find a way to save Chase."

At that, Annalisa rounded on Eulalie. "I don’t know whom to trust anymore. Even the police chief is suspect. I’m handling this myself."

"I’m going with you," Jessie said.

"So am I." Luther picked up a rifle and began checking it.

"Have you all gone crazy?" Hattie Lee asked indignantly.

Annalisa felt a wave of relief. She would trust these two friends with her life.

"I’m going, too."

Everyone glanced at Nate Blackwell. His face was pale, his hands unsteady. "I think it’s time I faced my fears squarely," he said.

Francine, with eyes brimming, handed him her carbine. He touched a finger to her cheek, then handed the weapon back to her. "I prefer this," he said, indicating his pistol. "Confederate army issue. It saved my life more times than I care to count. I vowed that I would never use it to kill again. But I think our lives are in as much peril as they were during the war."

Francine’s lips quivered, but she held back the tears. "God go with you, Nate." Now what had possessed her to say a thing like that?

He gave her a lingering look, then turned away. The four made their way to the barn and saddled their horses. As they rode away, the women stood on the front veranda, watching until the figures had faded into the darkness.

As they made their way toward town, they heard the sound of horses’ hooves approaching. Pulling into the woods, they watched as a half-dozen hooded men passed by.

"The terrorists are back," Annalisa whispered. "And this time, without Chase’s leadership, they hope to finish what they started before."

Jessie touched her arm. "We can’t leave the women alone. I’ll take care of them, Annalisa. With Luther’s help, we can finish them and then join you and Nate at the wharf."

She nodded. "Hurry, Jessie. The women aren’t expecting this attack. They’ll be unprepared."

Urging their horses through the woods, the two men disappeared into the shadows.

"Francine is there, Nate," Annalisa said softly. "You should be there with her."

"I want to be. My heart is torn. But I think Jessie and Luther can handle this. I can’t let you go into unknown danger alone."

Did he know what courage it took to choose between Francine, the woman he obviously loved, and the needs of a friend? Annalisa felt her heart overflowing with gratitude. "I knew I could count on you, friend. Come on then," she said, spurring her mount.

When they reached the wharf, Annalisa and Nate tied their horses, then began searching for Nate’s boat. They were dismayed to see the lights of its cabins far out on the river.

"It’s sailing," Annalisa cried.

"But I gave the crew no such order." Nate began pacing the docks. "Who took my boat out? And why?"

"These men need no orders from you to do their dirty work. This way, they can kill Chase and dump his body overboard. And who’s to know?" Annalisa felt tears sting her eyes at the thought of Chase, alone, trapped.

"Are you needin’ a boat to ferry you somewhere?"

Annalisa and Nate stared at the flat-bottomed boat that drifted silently toward the wharf. Standing in it was Emile Soulet. Perched on his shoulder was Delia’s cat.

"Emile!" Annalisa felt a surge of hope. "Can you take us out to Nate’s boat?"

"I’ve been watchin’ that vessel," Emile said, giving her a hand as she stepped down into his boat. "Strange things are goin’ on there tonight."

"What sort of strange things?" Nate leaped aboard, and sat down quickly as Emile began poling away from the dock.

"Men. Strangers I never saw before were unloaded, while a few others stayed on board. The boat was in complete darkness until it was away from shore. And I’ve heard gunshots."

Annalisa’s heart stopped. Gunshots. Chase. "Can you pull alongside that vessel without being seen?"

The beefy man shrugged. "They may have posted guards. But I’ll try."

When they were within a few feet of the boat, Emile lifted his pole from the water and motioned for the others to lie flat in the boat. Drifting closer, he reached for a rope that dangled over the side of Nate’s large vessel.

"Think you’re agile enough to climb aboard?" he asked Annalisa.

She took the rope in her hands and began pulling herself up. When she reached the rail, she peered over the edge, then, seeing no one, pulled herself over. Instantly, Nate followed.

"You take this deck," she whispered to Nate as she fell over the railing. "I’m going below."

"Annalisa." He touched her shoulder. "These men are armed."

"So are we," she replied. "And we have the element of surprise on our side."

But there are only two of us, Nate thought. A headstrong woman and a war-weary coward. There was no sense putting his thoughts into words. He was certain he could never dissuade Annalisa from her plan. And besides, she was already scurrying below deck.

In the flickering light of lanterns, Annalisa made her way cautiously, alert for any sound. Voices, low, angry, caused her to pause outside a cabin.

"Where do you get the money to help these strangers?" Annalisa recognized Willis’s voice.

"I’m a very wealthy man." It was Chase’s voice, low, taut with anger, and slightly slurred from pain.

Annalisa strained to peer through a tiny crack. All she could see was Chase tied in a chair. Blood streamed from a gash above his eye. The front of his shirt gaped open. His chest was spattered with blood.

For a moment, Annalisa felt faint. Dear God. They were going to kill him before her eyes. Taking deep breaths, she fought a wave of nausea. Think. She had to think.

"Who was working with you?"

Annalisa struggled to see the speaker. How many men were in there with Chase?

"I work alone."

"You can’t believe a word this liar says. Someone had to give him the exact amounts these people owed. Someone who had access to that information."

Annalisa felt her heart sink. The man speaking was Montagnet. Once again, they were dealing with the devil himself.

As she watched, Montagnet held her stolen ledger toward Chase. "What does this code mean?"

When Chase said nothing, Montagnet moved menacingly closer. "I need to decipher this code. Then I can blackmail the good citizens whose names appear in this ledger." He struck Chase hard with his pistol, then rasped, "Tell me."

"Go to hell."

Annalisa saw Montagnet press his pistol against Chase’s temple. Swallowing back her fear, she boldly threw open the door to the cabin and lifted the rifle to her shoulder. "Throw down your weapons and surrender. We have this boat surrounded."

Willis turned deathly white and slumped onto the edge of a bunk. Montagnet glowered at her, while the other two men, strangers to her, looked to Montagnet for direction.

"Do as she said. Throw down your weapons."

Surprised at the ease with which she had accomplished this, she said with growing boldness, "You there. Untie that man."

As the stranger moved toward Chase with a knife, Annalisa said firmly, "Toss down your knife. Use your hands only. Make one move to harm him and I’ll be forced to kill you."

As the man bent to his task, Annalisa saw the look in Chase’s eyes a moment before a gun was pressed to the back of her head.

"Drop your weapon, miss."

Stunned, she released her grip on the rifle. It was grasped from behind and yanked fiercely from her hands. A man she recognized as a member of Nate’s crew tossed the rifle to Montagnet.

"Well, now. Here we are again, Miss Montgomery. You just can’t stay away from me, can you?"

As he stepped closer, he pressed the muzzle of the rifle to her heaving chest.

Behind him, Willis gasped aloud. "Montagnet. Please. I won’t be a party to the killing of a woman."

"You mean," Annalisa said through clenched teeth, "you don’t want to watch them kill me, but you would have no problem watching them kill Chase?"

"Yes. No." He mopped his forehead, then slumped once more on the bunk. "I want no part in killing anyone."

"It’s too late for that, Willis," Montagnet spat. "We can’t afford to let them live. They know too much."

"Please, sir. I have a wife and children."

"What about the wives and children of those you cheated out of their land?" Annalisa said, forgetting her fear. "Did you never think about their suffering?"

"Please, Monsieur Montagnet," Willis said, trembling violently. "I must leave this cabin. I have no stomach for this."

"Take him above," Montagnet said to the others. "With Masters tied and Miss Montgomery unarmed, I can handle them alone."

"I wish to go ashore," Willis whined as he was leaving.

"When this is finished." Montagnet gave Annalisa a chilling smile. "The lady and I have some—unfinished business to attend to first."

Annalisa felt the cold thread of fear trace its icy fingers along her spine.

When they were alone, Montagnet slapped Annalisa’s face with such force, her head snapped to one side. "So. You scorned my gown and left it in the dirt. And now you dress in black. For a funeral, my dear?" He gave a bitter laugh. "The funeral of Masters here. And your own. You thought you could just walk away from Charles Montagnet." His eyes glittered dangerously. "For a moment when I saw you in that doorway, I was almost sorry you had escaped the fate I had planned for you tonight at your house. My men had orders to bring you to me alive after they killed all the others. I wanted you to watch your friends die."

"Then those hooded men who attacked us previously were sent on your orders."

He smiled, and she felt a chill of apprehension. "Everything that happens in New Orleans is done because I order it. When are you going to understand just how important I am?"

"Your men are in for a surprise, Charles. I have friends at that house who are armed and prepared to fight for their lives."

His eyes narrowed. Holding the gun to her head, he caught her by the hair and pulled until tears sprang to her eyes.

"You’ve just run out of luck, my dear Miss Montgomery. This time I intend to have what I want." Turning to Chase, he said, "This is your last chance, Masters. Tell me how to decipher the code in that ledger."

"How would Chase know my mother’s code?"

"Because I helped Sara devise it," Chase said, tasting the blood in his mouth. "Your mother funneled important information during the war. It seems courage, brains, and patriotism run in the Montgomery family."

Annalisa felt a surge of pride that was quickly dashed as Montagnet held a knife to Chase’s throat.

"Tell me the code."

Though Chase’s eyes flared with hatred, he said nothing.

"Then you may have the pleasure of watching while I show your lady what happens to women who cross me."

"You’re the one who crosses those who trust you," Chase said through clenched teeth.

"And what does that mean?"

Chase glanced down at the scar that knotted his chest and stomach. "Though you never knew my name, I was your old nemesis. You remember Nemesis, don’t you, Montagnet? She was the Greek goddess who punished extravagant pride. And you were the monster who ordered your own company into an ambush without adequate weapons because you had already found a buyer for the rifles that were supposed to be issued to your men."

"Port Hudson?"

"I’m surprised you remember. There were probably so many times you sold your own men for a few pieces of gold."

Montagnet’s eyes narrowed. "You were the president’s emissary?"

Chase’s eyes were as black as the night. "Not were—am. I still represent the president."

Annalisa felt her heart soar. The man she loved, the man who pretended to be interested in nothing more important than a game of cards, was on a mission of mercy. Her heroic, saintly Archangel was the man who owned her heart. Even the fact that she was about to die at the hands of a madman couldn’t dispel the joy she felt at this knowledge. Tears of happiness spilled over her lashes and stained her cheeks.

"You have sealed your death." Montagnet’s voice rose to a fever pitch. "That gold has helped build my empire. Long after you’re dead and gone, I’ll be the man running this country. People will bend to my will, just as you and Miss Montgomery are about to."

Tearing the snood from her hair, he watched as her dark hair tumbled about her shoulders and spilled down her back in a tangle of dark silk.