Carol Finch (16 page)

“I was hoping I might have the pleasure of dancing with you later this evening,” Fletch added belatedly.

“Of course, I shall look forward to it.”

“Shall we take a stroll along the boardwalks while the last-minute arrangements are being made?” Hawk suggested as he tucked Shiloh’s hand in the crook of his arm. He leaned closer to add, “I’m hoping you can introduce me to people who have acquired sudden wealth or are living above their means. My guess is that someone is making a killing by feeding information to the gangs, pinpointing the best times to strike vulnerable targets.”

Shiloh shouldn’t have been disappointed that Hawk’s request to escort her down the street had more to do with business than pleasure. But she was. Resigned to serving a practical purpose, Shiloh pasted on a smile and strode down the boardwalk. She nodded a greeting to several acquaintances who stared curiously at Hawk and Fletch.

“Here is one of Cerrogordo’s most influential citizens,” she declared, pausing directly beside the blond-haired, hazel-eyed man who was supervising the last-minute details of arranging food that had been carted from his hotel restaurant.

“Logan and Fletcher Hawk, this is our illustrious mayor,” Gideon introduced.

Hawk sized up the thin, wiry gentleman who paused from spouting orders to nod a quick greeting. He noticed the mayor didn’t lower himself to carting crates and chairs for the festivities. He allowed others to do his dirty work.

“How do you do,” Reggie said, nodding a disinterested greeting before gesturing this way and that to keep his employees scurrying to meet his demands.

As they continued on their way, Gideon murmured, “Reggie Clark might meet with difficulty during the next election because of his connection to Lucille Warren.”

When Hawk and Fletch frowned, bemused, Noah explained, “She operates the Paradise Social Club.”

“Paradise is a favorite haunt for men,” Shiloh put in, staring deliberately at her brothers, who quickly glanced the other way. “Unfortunately for social club enthusiasts, the women have banded together to apply pressure on the mayor and town council. They want to pass an ordinance that outlaws houses of ill repute within the city limits.”

Hawk chuckled. “A town divided? That’s what civilization does for a place.”

“Yes, it does,” Noah replied. “But rumor has it that Mayor Clark is a silent partner. He keeps postponing discussions about closing down Paradise and the other establishments in the red-light district.”

Shiloh directed Hawk’s attention to the robust, red-haired man who was barking orders at several young employees who were scurrying around another booth placed in front of the gunsmith shop. “That is Hiram Evans. He has built up his merchant business rather quickly. Almost
too
quickly, come to think of it.”

“She’s right,” Gideon spoke up. “I haven’t given Hiram’s means of financial backing much thought, but he’s doubled the size of his store by leasing the empty building next door.” He glanced curiously at Noah. “Do you recall when Hiram began his expansion? Wasn’t it about the same time as the road agents infiltrated the area?”

“It was a couple of months after Shiloh left for New Orleans,” Noah recalled. “Hiram claimed that he’d inherited from a long-lost uncle. Whatever the case, his immediate success has gone to his head.”

“How so?” Hawk asked as he scrutinized the burly businessman whose intense gray eyes kept darting this way and that, keeping track of everything around him.

Hiram’s gaze landed on Hawk and Fletch then dismissed them quickly in favor of settling on Shiloh. Hawk saw lust flicker in Hiram’s gaze and he disliked the man immediately. After the introductions were made, Hiram spent more time sidling up to Shiloh than making small talk with the new acquaintances.

“I wouldn’t say that Hiram flaunts his newfound wealth, but he hired the best carpenters he could find in Houston to build an ostentatious home,” Gideon reported as they ambled down the boardwalk.

“If we’re listing men in position to know all and see all and profit from it, we can’t exclude William Proctor.” Noah inclined his head toward the new bank. “Will is backing several new businesses in town, too. No one knows exactly where his money comes from, other than his local patrons.”

Hawk appraised the tall, lean man whose dark goatee made his face look as long as a horse’s. Leaning against the brick bank building, Will Proctor was decked out in an expensive black suit that looked as if it had been tailored to fit his rail-thin frame.

Having recently purchased elegant garments to alter his appearance—so gang members who arrived in town to enjoy the fandango wouldn’t immediately notice him—Hawk knew Proctor’s garments came with a high price tag.

There was also an air of superiority in the way Proc
tor held himself. He stared over the milling crowd, looking down his patrician nose at the locals. Proctor reminded Hawk of the holier-than-thou soldiers who patrolled the Apache reservation.

Hawk cut Fletch a glance, wondering if his brother was making the same comparison.

“Put a uniform on that haughty gent and he could pass for a patrol guard at Bosque,” Fletch muttered sourly.

“I was thinking the same thing myself.”

Hawk’s bitter reflections trailed off when Shiloh patted his arm comfortingly. “If the banker is involved in this theft ring I’m sure you will see to it that he pays penance,” she murmured. “Avenging your friend will be your inspiration.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “Archie Pearson
will
be avenged.” Hawk glanced back at his brother. “I neglected to tell you that I found Archie’s pearl-handled dagger in the saddlebag of one of the men who’s locked in jail.”

The news put a scowl on Fletch’s face. “Wish I’d known that when I interrogated those two bastards. I had more than one ax to grind with them and didn’t even know it.”

Hawk’s thoughts trailed off when he heard Shiloh gasp and felt her go rigid beside him. He followed her wide-eyed gaze then muttered sourly when he saw the auburn-haired dandy decked out in frilly, expensive finery strut down the boardwalk. He twirled his black lacquered cane, making the bejeweled rings that encircled four of his fingers flash in the sunlight.

“Shiloh!
Chérie amour,
there you are! I have been looking all over town for you.”

H
awk gnashed his teeth when the highfalutin aristocrat with the heavy French accent sauntered up to Shiloh. His vivid blue eyes focused solely on her; he grasped her hand and pressed several zealous kisses to her wrist. “My arrival was perfectly timed,
oui?
What a quaint little festival you have here on the outpost of civilization.”

Hawk pulled Shiloh’s hand from Antoine’s grasp before he slobbered all over her. Possessive jealousy pelted him like hailstones. Never mind that Antoine What’s-His-Name looked to be the perfect match for Shiloh’s striking beauty. This man had betrayed her, left her with a broken heart and soured her on all men everywhere. For that, Hawk wanted to strangle him.

“What are you doing here?” Hawk demanded while Shiloh stood there, speechless, staring wide-eyed at Antoine.

He kept waiting for Shiloh to lambaste this dandified Romeo with that sassy mouth of hers. He knew he’d enjoy watching her cut the man down to size, especially since
he
wouldn’t be on the receiving end of
her sharp tongue for a change. He frowned, wondering why Shiloh wasn’t letting this two-timing scoundrel have it with both barrels blazing.

Oozing charm, Antoine displayed a wide smile. “I have come to my senses,
monsieur.
” He struck a sophisticated pose then dropped into an exaggerated bow in front of Hawk. “If you are one of her brothers I wish to formally ask for her hand.”

“You can’t have her hand or anything else,” Hawk snarled in his most ominous voice.

Antoine had the good sense to take a cautious step backward. Damn good thing, too, because Hawk was looking for any excuse to pound this pretentious opportunist flat and mail him back to Louisiana.

“Hawk is not my brother.” Shiloh gestured toward Noah and Gideon. “Not that it matters because I speak for myself. It is one of the advantages of living way out here in the
outpost of civilization.
”

Obviously Antoine didn’t realize he was being mocked because he smiled broadly and cranked up the charm another notch. Of course, there was a great deal of money at stake and Frenchy wouldn’t say anything that might hurt his chances of talking himself back into Shiloh’s good graces.

“Ah,
mon amie,
you have every right to be annoyed with me. I understand, and I humbly beg your forgiveness. I realized my mistake in the nick of time and have come to correct it.”

“Did you? I doubt it,” Hawk said and snorted derisively. “Now go away.”

Antoine regarded Hawk fleetingly then focused his charismatic smile on Shiloh. Hawk really wanted to go for his throat. When he took an instinctive step forward, Fletch clamped hold of his shoulder to restrain him.

“Easy, big brother,” Fletch said confidentially. “This isn’t the time to call attention to yourself. The whole point of dressing in these fancy trappings is to blend in with the crowd so the outlaws don’t spot us before we spot them. Shiloh can handle herself with this dandy if she is so inclined. As she said earlier, it is
her
choice…now isn’t it?”

“Damn, I really hate it when you’re right,” Hawk muttered as he forced himself to relax his stance.

“
Chérie?
Grant me a stroll around town with you on my arm,
s’il vous plait.
” Antoine pleaded in such a sugarcoated tone that Hawk developed an instant tooth-ache.

Everything inside Hawk rebelled when Shiloh allowed Antoine to draw her to his side. Hawk had to make himself let her go—and it wasn’t easy, believe you him.

When Antoine patted Shiloh’s arm in pretended affection, she offered him a blinding smile. She was actually glad that Antoine had shown up. He needed to be taught a lesson and she knew she would feel much better if she could string him along and see how
he
liked it.

Besides, Hawk no longer needed her as a prop. She and her brothers had armed him with information about prospective suspects. Hawk was undoubtedly anxious to monitor the activity of his suspects. He didn’t need her for that.

He didn’t need her for
anything.

“Are you sure about this?” Gideon asked as he glanced back and forth between Shiloh and her fawning companion.

“Just say the word,” Noah encouraged, staring icily at Antoine, who was so focused on Shiloh that he seemed unaware of the murderous glowers directed at him.

Shiloh studied Hawk’s stony stare that promised Antoine all sorts of pain and torment. It was comforting to know that he’d come running if she couldn’t handle Antoine’s pretentious attempt to win her over again.

“Come along, Antoine.” She led him away from the scowling men. “I’ll show you around our fair city. It isn’t the bustling port that New Orleans is, but it does have its own irresistible charm.”

“Like you,
chérie,
” he cooed as he brushed his beringed forefinger over her cheek.

There had been a time not so long ago that this man’s caressing touch had filled her with warmth and giddy pleasure. Now he left her with cool indifference.

She was immune to his practiced charm, thank goodness.

Shiloh listened to Antoine yammer about how he’d realized what he’d lost when she left New Orleans and how he’d hopped a stage to make the long journey across Texas so he could reconcile with her.

Shiloh intended to deal with this smooth-talking Don Juan in her own way, while Hawk focused on his assignment.

Having her revenge on Antoine was just the distraction needed to take her mind off Hawk. She hoped.

“Pay attention,” Fletch muttered while Hawk stood on the edge of the dance area, watching the Frenchman twirl Shiloh around to the beat of the music provided by the local band.

Jealousy was eating Hawk alive, damn it. He’d never had to deal with these kinds of feelings before and they didn’t sit well with him.

“Why did
he
have to show up here?” Hawk scowled aloud.

“Because he obviously got paid off or threatened by the other heiress’s father and decided to reconcile with Shiloh,” Fletch speculated. “A meal ticket is still a meal ticket.”

Hawk presumed Shiloh’s willingness to wander off with that charlatan indicated she still had tender feelings for him. Hawk wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled. It must be true that love turned a person deaf, blind and stupid because Shiloh should have sent Frenchy packing immediately.

He knew she could do better than a tumbleweed Ranger who had nothing to offer her, but she still deserved a hell of a lot better than Antoine. He’d say and do whatever necessary to marry Drummond money.

“Snap out of it.” Fletch gouged Hawk in the ribs with his elbow. “Take a gander at the banker. He is standing in the shadows of the alley. He has attracted interesting company. Do those men look familiar?”

Hawk forcefully shoved aside his frustrated musings and surveyed the two shabbily dressed ruffians. Since he didn’t recognize them, he tapped Noah on the shoulder then gestured toward the men standing just outside the circle of light cast by the lamppost.

“Are those the men you spotted at the camp north of town while you were searching for Shiloh?”

Noah and Gideon nodded simultaneously. “I remember the Mexican with the red band on his sombrero,” Noah replied.

“The bowlegged white man was there, too,” Gideon said.

Hawk glanced back at Fletch. “Why don’t you drift in that direction? See if you can pick up on their conversation.”

When Fletch walked off Hawk forced himself to ig
nore Shiloh and her flamboyant dance partner so he could scan the men in the milling crowd. Now that darkness had descended more partygoers had shown up to enjoy the festivities—and the kegs of beer that flowed freely.

Hawk’s attention riveted on the mayor who was standing outside Paradise Social Club with a buxom female. Her blond hair was pinned on her head in a fashionable coiffure and her formfitting red silk dress advertised her wares—to the extreme.

“Lucille Warren, I presume,” Hawk said to Gideon.

Gideon smiled wryly. “Yes, and Reggie Clark doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s been carrying on with the madam. Of course, Reggie’s wife has retaliated by spreading word that
she
is having an affair with Hiram Evans, now that he’s acquired the money to be considered one of the town’s elite.”

“So, Mrs. Clark is sleeping with the upstart merchant to spite her husband who’s carrying on with Lucille, who’s trying to remain in good standing with the mayor so he’ll continue to side with her when the townsfolk exert more pressure to close the door to Paradise Social Club,” Hawk summed up.

Gideon snickered. “You have the gist of it. But I can’t say how the banker fits in and why he’s chatting with those ruffians. I’ve seen William Proctor at the social club several times, but he favors the brunette named Rachel.”

“Of course, he isn’t the only one who favors Rachel,” Noah inserted.

Hawk studied the brothers Drummond, wondering if they called on Rachel occasionally and how their sister reacted to it. Not favorably, he guessed.

Hawk glanced skyward when he heard the flutter and coo of birds. He’d asked George Porter to release
the pigeons at dusk and he wondered if they might alight in the second-story windows of the bank or the gabled peak atop the merchant shop. Unfortunately, the birds weren’t pigeons. They roosted in the trees rather than the tops of buildings.

His attention shifted to the bulky silhouette of the man swaggering toward Paradise Social Club. When the newcomer passed directly beneath the streetlamp, where Lucille and Mayor Clark stood watching the couples move gracefully around the dance area, Hawk came to attention.

“Morton DeVol,” Hawk muttered.

“Is that the leader of the outlaw faction you infiltrated?” Noah questioned.

Hawk nodded sharply. “DeVol is headed for the bordello. I wonder if the men speaking to the banker will show up to parley with him.”

“Perfect place for a rendezvous,” Noah said. “No one’s place of business will draw suspicion as bandit headquarters.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Hawk murmured.

“I’ll go with you, Hawk,” Noah volunteered. “Gid, you stay here and wait for Fletch.”

“I’d like nothing better than to incarcerate Morton DeVol and his cutthroat sidekick, Everett Stiles,” Hawk said as he and Noah wove around the townsfolk who clogged the boardwalk.

“Why’s that?” Noah questioned, from one step behind him.

“I had to stand aside and watch those two bastards rough up a woman during a stage holdup soon after I infiltrated the gang. She was like your sister. Bold, defiant and unwilling to give up her valuables until physically forced into it.”

Noah grimaced. “Standing aside must have been hard.”

“Damn hard,” Hawk agreed. “It was just as bad as watching soldiers violate Apache women at the reservation and being held at gunpoint and physically restrained while it happened.”

Noah scowled. “Hell and damnation.”

“It was indeed.” Hawk veered around a cluster of men that reeked of sweat and liquor then he quickened his step to reach the brothel.

“I’m sorry for trying to string you up when we found you and Shi together in camp,” Noah murmured. “The prospect of Shi being mistreated made Gid and me a little crazy.”

“Apology accepted.”

Hawk didn’t mention that he
deserved
to be strung up for what he’d allowed to happen that night—and last night. But he didn’t have time to deal with indignant and outraged brothers while he was hot on Morton DeVol’s trail.

His thoughts scattered when he heard the flutter of wings and glanced up to see a pigeon duck into the dormer window on the third story of the bordello. His accusing glare swung to the mayor who was rubbing himself against Lucille’s well-advertised cleavage.

No wonder Mayor Reggie Clark resisted the movement to shut down the men’s social club in Cerrogordo. Clark might well be operating a criminal ring from the top story of the bordello, while appeasing his sexual appetite with the madam.

Damn clever ruse, Hawk thought. The leaders from the four outlaw factions could come and go from the social club to swap information without inviting the slightest suspicion.

Clark, a noted businessman in town, was privy to information about stage schedules and strongboxes transporting money. Not to mention keeping up with whichever prosperous ranchers had livestock ripe for the picking. While hiding in plain sight, Reggie could coordinate the activities of his rings of thieves—and no one was the wiser.

Of course, Hawk couldn’t be too quick to rule out William Proctor and Hiram Evans because they had acquired wealth and prosperity recently. He needed more facts and evidence and he didn’t want to get hasty and spook the ringleader into going to ground. Without the ringleader in jail, this scheme might crop up again after the Rangers rode away.

Hawk watched Reggie stroll into the social club a moment after DeVol. Hawk and Noah stepped into the elaborately decorated parlor where scantily clad women and their male customers shared drinks from the private bar. A portrait of a nude woman, draped seductively over a fainting couch, hung on the wall behind the bar.

Hawk and Noah lingered in the shadowed corner while Reggie and Lucille climbed the staircase. As if on cue, Morton DeVol—who apparently did bathe and shave on occasion, and had for this rendezvous—escorted a giggling harlot upstairs.

“You must be new in town, sugar,” came the sultry female voice beside Hawk. “Is this a friend of yours, Noah?”

Hawk glanced down at the woman who batted her big brown eyes at him then turned her flirtatious smile on Noah.

“He’s a long-lost cousin,” Noah said inventively.

Hawk couldn’t let it pass so he leaned over to Noah
and said confidentially, “If your sister discovers you’re a regular here she’ll skin you alive for your double standards. You know that, don’t you?”

Noah grimaced. “That’s one conversation I’d just as soon not have.”

“Well, boys, which one of you wants the first turn?” the slender blonde asked as she hooked her arms around Noah’s and Hawk’s elbows to urge them toward the steps.