Pulling on the reins of his horse, Gerald guided his mount through the trees, leaving Judge Harry Krupp alone in the darkness with his portly companion.
“It seems you keep your promises,” Krupp told his companion, gesturing toward the rubble with a negligent thumb before nodding in satisfaction.
Silas Gruber barely glanced at the remains of the boxcar and the litter of singed boards. “I told you I’d see to it that Clark didn’t have a chance to tell anyone that you’ve been taking bribes as one of the governors of the Star. Or that for a thousand dollars, you’ll throw a case out of court. And for ten thousand, you’ll see to it that the Star executes the suspect—whether or not he is guilty. Now it’s your turn. I’ve already paid you nearly eight thousand dollars to execute Ethan McGuire for robbing my bank five years ago. And since I killed Jeb Clark for you tonight, I consider the balance paid in full. This should bring Ethan McGuire out of hiding.”
Krupp shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. If I were him, I’d hightail it out of the area as fast as I could go.”
Silas shook his head. “Not McGuire. He’s led a charmed life in the past. No doubt he thinks he’s incapable of getting caught.” He turned to fix a steady look of determination on the judge. “Just remember, Judge. I’ve done your dirty work, and I’ve paid your fee. See to it that you apprehend the man and hang him, once and for all.”
The judge smiled in the darkness. “Have no fear, Gruber. No one ever escapes the Star Council. Especially if the price is right.”
Silas Gruber threw his companion a look of contempt. “For the past three months you’ve been unable even to find the man, let alone execute him. Forgive me if I seem a little doubtful now.”
The judge stiffened. “I told you that once you’d killed Clark, I would take care of McGuire.”
“Just see to it that I get what I’ve paid for,” Silas interrupted heatedly. “Otherwise I’ll make sure you sorely regret having cheated me,” he muttered. “And I won’t turn you in to the law. I’ll turn you in to the so-called men of honor who constitute the Star Council of Justice. Somehow, I think they’d be very interested in knowing that, for the last four years, the head of their group has been taking bribes to assassinate innocent men. And he’s been using the Star Council of Justice to do it.” With that parting remark, Silas threw Judge Krupp a look of mocking disdain, then drew back on the reins, maneuvered his horse from the trees, and disappeared into the night.
As Krupp stared at the spot where Silas had been, his jaw tightened in anger and his hands clenched around the reins. Gruber was getting far too cocky.
And the man knew too much. Far too much
.
Krupp’s expression tightened and his jaw grew hard. “I’ll see to McGuire. Then I’ll see to you, old man.”
Though his return seemed to take twice as much time as his escape, Ethan and Lettie were able to slip through the trees and across the back yard with little more than a passing glance in their direction. Once inside, Ethan hurried up the stairs while Lettie darted to the front of the house to delay Natalie Gruber, who had just arrived from town.
Heaving a deep breath of relief, Ethan slipped through the door to Lettie’s bedroom and closed it behind him. Then, as the panicked energy he’d felt began to subside, he wearily climbed the steps and moved across the broad expanse of floor in the middle of the garret. Lifting a hand to his brow, he winced when he saw that his fingers shook slightly.
Damn. He’d nearly been caught that time.
Impatient with his own outward show of weakness, Ethan drew the bonnet from his head and walked to the center of the room, gazing around him at the familiar domain. In the last few days, he’d grown to hate this garret, grown to hate its hot confines, its sloping ceilings, its profusion of windows.
Yet, now, he couldn’t think of any place he would rather be.
Dropping the hat onto the bed, he reached to unfasten the collar of the mantle, stripping the heavy garment from his arms and tossing it in the direction of the bonnet, until he stood once again in his black trousers and Goldsmith’s voluminous shirt.
When the door opened, Ethan jerked, his arm automatically whipping to hold his revolver at a ready aim, even though, deep down, he knew Lettie was the only person with a key.
She topped the stairs and eyed the revolver with startled concern. But her concern was tempered with the dregs of her own fear.
Something sober and just a little frightening shivered through Ethan’s system when he realized this girl cared for him. She truly cared for him. Not as a thief to be captured, not as a McGuire to be respected, but as a man.
Lettie slowly smiled, and to Ethan, her smile seemed more welcoming than the sanctuary of the garret. Somehow, though he didn’t know why, her smile represented hope. Hope that he could find a way out of this mess and make a future for himself. An honorable future.
When he didn’t speak, Lettie gestured to the revolver he still held pointed at her chest.
“Jumpy?”
“A little,” he admitted grudgingly after a slight hesitation. Taking a deep breath to still his hammering heart, he lowered the weapon to his side.
Lettie placed a pail of water at the top of the steps and gazed at him consideringly for a moment before saying, “You’ll be safe here.”
“For how long?” he inquired bitterly. “It’s only a matter of time before someone in this house discovers I’m here.”
She didn’t have any answers for him, and he finally turned away, slipping his revolver back into its holster. Outside, the sound of the manhunt had subsided somewhat. The cursing of men and thunder of hooves had become more distant, but no less disturbing.
“I think it’s time I stopped this,” Ethan muttered, turning toward the window but knowing he couldn’t even look out for fear someone outside would see him. A bubbling frustration built within him and he swore, then swore again. “Dammit! Who’s doing this to me? What have I done to deserve being hunted like a rabid dog for someone else’s crimes?”
He heard Lettie move closer in an attempt to placate him, but he spun away, striding to the opposite side of the garret. “I’ve spent enough time cooped up in this damned attic! Even now, I feel the walls closing in on me.” He turned again, stabbing the air with an outstretched finger. “I want to get even. Hell! I want the person responsible for this to pay. In spades!”
Lettie opened her mouth, then hesitated before finally saying, “I think I have a couple of ideas.”
Ethan regarded her with sudden interest, feeling the embers of hope within him beginning to take spark. “Well?” he prompted, when she didn’t speak right away.
“I could go to my brother and provide you with an alibi.”
Ethan shook his head. “They think I’m training an accomplice. Besides which, the moment the Star got wind of my whereabouts, I’d be a dead man.” His eyes narrowed. “What’s your other idea?”
Lettie smoothed her hands down her skirts. “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
He waved her objections aside. “Now’s not the time to get shy on me, Lettie.”
“Someone is evidently trying to trap you, copying your methods as the Gentleman and—” She stopped when he regarded her in sudden suspicion. “I’ve known you’re the true Gentleman Bandit for some time.”
“You know?” he echoed in confusion. “How?”
“I may be young, but I’m not stupid.” She stepped toward him. “As a little girl, I remember hiding on the stairs and hearing my brother rant and rave about the Gentleman. I am not so scatterbrained that I’m unable to put two and two together. My brother has begun looking for the Gentleman, and you are going to a great deal of effort to avoid him.
You
are the Gentleman Bandit—or at least you were years ago. But you weren’t the man who stole that gold in Carlton two weeks ago, or in Petesville, or Dewey, or Eastbrook months before that. And you didn’t injure that deputy, or murder Jeb Clark.”
He took a deep breath, shaking his head in amazement—yet why he was so surprised by her insight, he didn’t know. From the beginning, Lettie had seemed to sense more about his past and his character than anyone else he’d ever known. He took a deep breath, and the anger and frustration within him subsided somewhat beneath a slow blossoming of purpose. “My apologies if I insulted your intelligence. So, what do you suggest I do to get out of this?”
She plucked at the edge of the pocket of her apron, staring at it as if it held the secrets of the world, then glanced up, her expression determined. “I think it’s time you went out into the community to do a little sniffing around. Since the robberies are occurring within a twenty-mile radius of Madison, I think the culprit has to be here, in this town, don’t you?”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed, realizing that he hadn’t been the only person who’d noted that fact in the recent months. He watched as a slow, mischievous smile slipped across her features and seeped into her eyes. At once, Ethan was reminded of Lettie’s youth and the impulsiveness she’d displayed more than once on his behalf.
“I just checked an Agnes Magillicuddy into room five—last door on the women’s wing, next to the back stairs landing. If anyone happened to see us return, they’ll believe it was our new… reclusive boarder.”
She lifted a key from her apron pocket and tossed it to Ethan. He caught it easily and peered at the tip, discovering that an elaborate numeral five had been engraved in the brass.
“Mrs. Magillicuddy has recently suffered the loss of a loved one and wishes to be alone,” Lettie continued. “All alone. She will not be dining with the rest of the boarders and has agreed to pay a substantial sum in order to have her meals brought to her on a tray.” The tilt of her lips lifted even more in a slow, self-satisfied smile. “A stroke of brilliance, wouldn’t you say?” she asked, referring to her attempt at subterfuge.
“I have a feeling we haven’t reached the part I’m not going to like yet.”
“Well… no.”
Ethan took a step forward. “Am I right in assuming that your plan has something to do with the mysterious Mrs. Magillicuddy?”
“Well, yes.”
A slow wave of suspicion began to seep into his mind, but Ethan pushed it away. No. Lettie couldn’t possibly think that he would… that he could…
“Lettie, I won’t do it,” he growled.
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “No, but I have a feeling you’re going to suggest I—”
Lettie’s smile became an audacious grin and her eyes sparkled in the lamplight. “I think Mrs. Magillicuddy should be seen on occasion in town, don’t you? Just to keep people from suspecting…” Her words trailed away, and she reached into the deep pocket of her apron to remove two switches of thick black hair.
Ethan shook his head from side to side in fierce refusal. “No. I won’t do it.”
She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I’ve also obtained a corset and a pair of… um… false bosoms for your use.”
“I will not dress up like—”
“Your equipment was supplied by none other than Mrs. Silas Gruber, Grey Boardinghouse’s infamous Lady of the Manor. Be careful what you reach for when you’re with Natalie. It’s not all real.”
“Lettie.”
“Of course, we’ll have to find you a few changes of clothing, but there aren’t that many more days until wash day. I’m sure something will manage to get lost between the pot, the line, and the boarders’ armoires.”
“Lettie, I am not dressing up like a woman!” Ethan muttered fiercely, then quickly lowered his voice to a mere whisper. “I won’t.”
“Yes, you will. Just once or twice,” Lettie coaxed. “Just enough to give the ruse some credibility.”
When she advanced toward him, Ethan began to back away, wary of the spark of humor that still gleamed in her eyes.
“I won’t,” he insisted again.
“It’s the only way you’ll get into town unnoticed.”
He regarded her with stubborn refusal. “No.”
She huffed in irritation. “Then you’ll spend the rest of your life in this garret—unless Jacob finds you first.”
Ethan swore, lifting his head to glare at the ceiling as if searching for any other alternative.
Lettie dropped her teasing facade and moved across the room to lay her hand on his arm. “It’s the only way, Ethan.”
Ethan knew it was not the only way. He’d managed to slip away from the boardinghouse several times before. But Lettie was correct in the fact that he would not obtain much information that way. He needed to get into Madison proper. He needed to be free to visit the robbery site in Carlton—as well as the site of the robbery that had occurred only hours before.
He glanced down at her, his expression gradually changing from stubborn refusal, to disbelief, to acceptance. “No one is going to believe I’m a woman,” he muttered one last time.
“They’d better,” she warned. When he sighed, she pressed her point. “Tonight proved that these robberies aren’t going to stop even if you manage to leave the area. The Star Council suspects
you
. No matter where you go—unless we find a way to clear your name—you’ll spend the rest of your life waiting for the Star to catch up to you.”
He knew she was right, but something within him still resisted. “But … a woman?”
“In the next few days Madison will be in an uproar. With two robberies so close to one another…” Her voice trailed away as she realized just how serious Ethan’s position had become now that Jeb Clark had been killed. “With two robberies and Jeb Clark’s death, there’ll be enough strangers coming into town for the funeral services for you to slip unnoticed through the crowd.”
“Why couldn’t I dress up as an old man?”
“They’ll be looking for a man, Ethan. They’d never look for a woman.”
Ethan cringed away from the idea, trying to imagine himself cavorting around town in skirts and a bonnet.
Hell.
“It’s the only way, Ethan.”
He studied her, his brow furrowed.
“You said yourself that you’ve got to do something.”
He sighed.
“My brother’s not stupid, Ethan. He’s suspected that you’ve been hiding nearby for some time. One of these days, he’ll burst through that door without any warning and you won’t have time to get to the roof. You’ve got to do something before that happens.”