Wings of a Dove (61 page)

    Weasel paused in front of a familiar frame building, his eyes darting to a lighted window on the second floor. Mr. Paynter had a business to run, and he wouldn't let anything or anybody get in his way. Mae would be taken care of soon, and then it would be Marsh's turn. Weasel had no doubt Mr. Paynter had also sent for him because definite plans were being made to take care of Marsh and he was the best person to point him out. He didn't mind. He liked being in on the excitement.

    It would be like the last job he had helped finish for Mr. Paynter quick and fast, probably on a crowded street. When this job was done, Marsh would be dead, and Mr. Paynter would be in the clear again with nobody looking into his business and everybody more scared than ever to cross him.

    Yeah, he liked that.

    His uneven lips twitching with anticipation, Weasel knocked on the front door of the house. The door opened a cautious crack.

    "Mr. Paynter wants to see me."

    The door opened wider and Weasel stepped inside, nodding at the curt reply: "Mr. Paynter's waitin' for you."

    Weasel walked up the staircase, pleased with himself and his importance and excited at what was to come.

    James peered out the window of the railway car, scanning the terminal with a tense glance as the train drew to a screeching halt. He was impatient with the delay caused by a last-minute switching of tracks, and he was driven by his certainty that Allie was in danger. That certainty had grown stronger inside him with each mile he had traveled.

    Snatching up his suitcase, he left the car, hurried across the platform, and pushed his way through the milling throng. Emerging on the sidewalk outside, he glanced anxiously around the crowded street, paying little attention to the chilling dampness that hung on the heavy air and the gray, overcast sky threatening rain. Spotting an approaching hack, he raised his hand, catching the eye of the driver, his anxiety growing as the carriage made its way toward him.

    Not taking the time to examine the strange panic all but overwhelming him, James gave Delaney's Wabash Avenue address to the driver with an admonition for haste. A tense frown lined his face as the carriage moved into motion.

    Her expression sober, Allie glanced briefly toward the overcast sky as Delaney lifted her into the rented hack and climbed in beside her. She shivered as the carriage lurched forward, concerned that this was not an ideal day to bring Margaret home. Amending that thought a moment later, Allie realized she should be grateful that Margaret was well enough to be discharged from the hospital for recuperation at home after such a limited stay. She knew she also should be grateful her own ankle had improved so dramatically in recent days that she was managing to get around quite well on her own. Delaney's assistance was a precaution on which he insisted, but she had already decided that as soon as full strength returned, she would take the rooms James had found for them and relieve Delaney of the burden of their care.

    Refusing to submit to the disturbing feelings that thought evoked, Allie shivered again as the carriage negotiated a turn in the road and a gust of most air brushed her face. But she knew instinctively this most recent decision had little to do with the uneasiness that had plagued her since awakening. Her peculiar inability to define the cause for that uneasiness heightened her tension.

    "Are you all right, Allie? I have to make a brief stop at the printer's along the way, but it shouldn't take long."

    "I'm fine, just a little chilled."

    Delaney's assessing gaze moved over her face. He reached out to cover her hand with his, and Allie realized it was useless to attempt to conceal her anxiety from him.

    "I'll be finished with the assignment I've been working on at the newspaper soon. Everything will settle back to normal once we have Margaret back with us again."

    Lines of concern tightened between Delaney's eyes, and Allie's disquiet deepened. Except for the time he had spent with her at the hospital each morning, she had seen very little of Delaney in recent days. He returned home late each night, exhausted and tense, and she suspected he was working on something very difficult for the newspaper. She had the feeling it was all drawing to a head, and although she realized it had little to do with her, she was concerned.

    She also realized that the unspoken ties between Delaney and her grew stronger each day, and she feared

    Determined to evade the thought which followed, Allie responded with a soft statement. ''You're right. In a little while everything will be as it should again. I suppose I can be patient a little longer."

    Delaney slid a reassuring arm around her shoulder. It was a natural gesture of comfort, and Allie accepted it. It would only be a little while longer.

    Olga jumped at the unexpected pounding at the front door. The delicate teacup she held slipped from her fingers and crashed onto the kitchen floor, and she frowned at the shattered pieces as the frantic pounding continued.

    She hurried to open the front door, angry words freezing on her lips at the panic apparent on the face of the familiar redheaded woman standing there. Shoving past her into the foyer and pushing the door shut behind her, Mae Brewster demanded breathlessly, "Where's Mr. Marsh?"

    Olga's reply was cautious. "He's out this morning."

    "Where is he, damn you!" Desperation touched Mae's voice as she gripped Olga's arms. Her small hands were surprisingly strong, and her rough nails dug into the older woman's skin as she shook Olga with growing hysteria. "They came after me Mr. Paynter's men! They said they was goin' to kill me for talkin' to Mr. Marsh, but I got away! They said some others was goin' to kill Mr. Marsh, too. Tell me where he is!"

    Bewildered by the girl's statement, Olga shook her head. "Mr. Marsh went out with Mrs. Case. They went to"

    "To the hospital?" At Olga's nod, the girl went still. Her hands dropped to her sides and she stepped back. "Then it's too late. They said some of Mr. Paynter's men was waitin' for Mr. Marsh to show up at the hospital like he does every
mornin
'. They're goin' to kill him, and I ain't goin' to be able to do nothin' about it."

    Olga's lined face paled. "The police we can tell the police!"

    "No, I ain't goin' to no police. They'll arrest me, and then when I get out of jail, Mr. Paynter's men will be waitin'. It's too late anyway too late."

    Mae pulled open the door, pausing on the doorstep, tears brimming in her frightened eyes. "Mr. Marsh treated me nice, and I wanted to save him. But now I gotta save me."

    Biting her lip against her tears, Mae turned to go down the steps, but collided with a fair-haired man who had walked up behind her. Freeing herself from his supporting hands with a gasp, she brushed past him and was out through the gate as he turned a sharp, inquiring glance toward Olga's white face.

    "What happened, Olga?"

    "Mr. Case!" Trembling so violently she could hardly speak, Olga gasped, "Some men they're going to kill Mr. Marsh!"

    "Where's Mrs. Case?"

    "She's with him! They went to the Marine Hospital to pick up Margaret. That girl
Maeshe
said some men are waiting there for Mr. Marsh to arrive, and then they're going to kill him. She said"

    Without a word, James started back down the steps. His shout halted the hack that had brought him as it pulled away from the curb. Covering the distance to the carriage within seconds, he barked an order as he jerked open the door. "The Marine Hospital quick!"

    The carriage lurched forward even as James secured the door behind him. Sitting back in the seat, he closed his eyes at the horrifying realization that he was in danger of losing Allie in a way he had never dreamed.

    The Marine Hospital it could not be far! He must get there in time!

    Allie looked at Delaney. He was silent, appearing lost in thought as he stared at the hospital, which was coming into view. His hat lay on the seat beside him, and his profile was clearly outlined against the street beyond. His serious brow, the straight, strong bridge of his nose, the chiseled contours of his cheek, the well-shaped lips and strong chin it was a picture that had filled her dreams, waking and sleeping, for most of her life. It was etched into her soul, never to be displaced.

    But it gave her little peace this day. Instead, it seemed to    accelerate her anxiety, driving all anticipation of Margaret's impending release from her mind. Something was wrong. Something…

    Allie's fingers sought the outline of the medal beneath her bodice, her hand dropping away as Delaney turned toward her with an encouraging smile.

    "Dr. Lindstrom has probably already signed Margaret's release. It's my bet she's ready and waiting for us to pick her up right now."

    Delaney turned as the carriage drew up at the curb, and Allie frowned. Something felt very wrong.

    Delaney pushed open the door. He reached toward her, but she shook her head. "I don't need help. I can get down by myself."

    Determined not to allow Delaney's frown to deter her, Allie waited until Delaney stepped down onto the curb before taking the hand he extended toward her. Wincing at the pain in her ankle, Allie stepped onto the curb, suddenly grateful for the support of Delaney's arm.

    There was a rush of footsteps to her right, and Allie turned to see several men running toward them. Delaney's head jerked, and she heard his low grunt of surprise, saw the alarm in his clear eyes in the brief second before he pushed her roughly behind him. She heard a familiar voice shout her name as the men neared, saw a familiar fair head briefly cross her line of vision. A gunshot, and Delaney flung her to the ground.

    A scuffle Delaney and a man with a gun!

    Allie was struggling to her feet when James suddenly appeared at her side. He pushed her back down on the sidewalk and spoke in a harsh, breathless rasp. "Stay down, out of the way! There are a few of them but I think"

    Another gunshot, and James jerked suddenly upright. A startled expression crossed his face in the brief second before he fell to his knees beside her. Momentarily motionless, his eyes on her face, he slowly crumpled to the ground.

    Incredulity held Allie motionless as a third shot rang out and the struggle behind them ceased.

    The thud of a body hitting the ground and the sound of running footsteps made her raise her terror-stricken gaze to the man standing over her. Her eyes met and held Delaney's for the briefest moment before snapping back to James, lying so still beside her.

    Male voices shouting… more people running, scuffling, carriages arriving… confusion… but Allie saw none of the furor around her. Moving as if in a dream, she touched James's cheek.

    "James" Her voice was a low whisper, building in volume as she repeated his name over and again. "James, look at me. Talk to me!"

    She was kneeling on the muddy walk, struggling to raise James's head to her lap when strong hands aided her effort. She stroked James's face, pressing light kisses against his cheek. She whispered his name over and over against his ear, pleading with him to open his eyes. She became angry when he failed to respond. She shook him violently, her ire growing when he remained limp and motionless in her arms.

    "James, wake up! Open your eyes… please open your eyes!"

    She felt hands on her shoulders, attempting to raise her to her feet, but she shook them off, cradling James in her arms, pressing her face tight against his cheek.

    "James, I love you. I need you. Please don't leave us. James…"

    "Allie, get up."

    "No!" Suddenly viciously angry, Allie pulled back from Delaney, pushing at his hands. "Leave him alone! I'll take care of him! I can"

    "He's dead, Allie."

    "No!" Her eyes wide with horror, Allie looked back at James's still face. Fear a hot, white heat inside her, she grasped James's coat, shaking him with all her strength. Suddenly realizing that her hands were wet and sticky, she lifted them to stare at her palms. They were red with blood. She shook her head, frowning. She wiped her hands against her skirt.

    "Allie"

    "No! He's not dead!"

    Suddenly she was fighting Delaney as he drew her to her feet, struggling against him as he sought to restrain her. From the corner of her eye, she saw a policeman kneel beside James. She saw him shake his head. She saw a blanket descending over James, being pulled up over his face.

    She screamed. An endless shriek, the scream went on and on inside her mind, continuing after the staring faces faded, echoing after all sound dimmed. The memory of the sound was the only reality remaining after the light darkened and faded away.

    The air was sweet with the scent of new bloom and freshly turned earth. Bumblebees, their furry striped jackets fresh and new, buzzed among scattered wildflowers with a soft, comforting sound natural to the sunlit, quiet morning. A faint breeze stirred the warm air, loosening a wisp of hair from the tight bun secured atop Allie's head, whipping it against her pale cheek as she stood beside the open grave. Unconscious of the silent circle of people around her and of the strong male presence at her back, she watched in silence as James's coffin was lowered into the gaping hole in the ground.