Really folks, I'm so overwhelmed by the love that's coming this story's way so as a big thank you to all who are hitting those buttons and passing on their thoughts I wanted to get a nice quick update out there so thank you everyone for your wonderful encouragement!
Disclaimer; see Chapter One
Chapter Four
Crowe turned out to be as odious as his name suggested. That morning Maura had not so much enjoyed a quiet breakfast at the safehouse Frost had found them for the night, anxious to move on with her mission she discovered herself lacking her normal methodical patience but Frost had insisted that no one would be in the Land of the Living at The Dirty Bandit until at least lunchtime.
'And while you're at it, you might wanna think of your undercover name. I've always been kinda partial to Katie Beauclerc myself' he'd said over a cup of freshly brewed coffee that Maura had to admit smelled heavenly after a rough night spent on a straw mattress that caused her to itch in several of the most unimaginable places. When she inquired curiously as to the reason for the very specific name choice he had simply shrugged in that mischievous way she had already come to recognise and replied 'I knew a girl once…'
He had also suggested that she try and mellow her East Coast accent so the other girls at the inn wouldn't think she was too snooty and if she faltered, to cover herself by telling them she'd been born somewhere like France or England before her parents moved them all out West.
And so it was that later that afternoon Katie Beauclerc walked through the swinging saloon doors of The Dirty Bandit and asked for Mr. Crowe. She explained that she had heard he was looking for a new floorshow and offered him her passable singing talents.
"So you sing, huh?" he asked gruffly, the smack of chewing tobacco between his teeth providing a rather pungent counterpoint to his speech and Maura fought the urge to recoil as he leaned closer to her across the bar. He eyed her in a similar lascivious manner as had the scarred man on the train the previous day, keenly assessing her attributes. Then abruptly he nodded, having apparently settled something within his mind; 'well, hell if they don't pay to hear you sing they'll sure pay to come look at you anyhow. Besides, ain't no one else been askin'. Get your behind back here at sundown and use the back stairs. Girls'll show you your room. We'll talk terms after you've shown me what you can do ' he said, jabbing his thumb in the general direction of the back of house but his hot, sticky eyes remained fixed well below what was considered polite for a gentleman. Then again, it was clear that Crowe was no gentleman, neither was she too keen on his questionable choice of words.
With that settled she had returned to the safehouse where Frost had already assured her he had some appropriate attire waiting for her.
She wasn't sure exactly what she had been expecting but she was fairly certain that it didn't include the outrageously vivid crimson bustier and black stockings he produced the instant she walked through the door.
"Ta-da!" he exclaimed, brandishing the outfit proudly.
"Frost!" she giggled, half-amused, half-scandalised as she hurriedly turned to shut the door behind her before anyone caught sight of the two of them. She knew she was probably being silly out here where people were exposed to far worse than saucy undergarments on a daily basis but she couldn't help her very Eastern sensibilities.
"What? It's perfect!" he said.
"How on Earth did you get this?" she asked, still a little shocked even as she gingerly stepped towards him to get a closer look at the shiny garments. "Actually," she continued, holding up a halting hand, "I don't think I really want to know the answer to that on greater reflection."
She fingered the satiny red of the corset lightly, assessing its appeal.
"It does appear around my size at least," she admitted reluctantly, "but honestly Frost, I cannot wear this. It's…it's…"
"Something a woman of a certain occupation would wear?" he finished for her with a meaningful tilt to his eyebrow.
"Point taken" she acknowledged ruefully.
"Look, Maura," he said a touch more conciliatory, he could sense her nerves under that bravado of naïve readiness, "you really don't have to go through with this. We always can find another way. Heck, it was brave of you just to come this far but…no one'll blame you if you back out now."
"But that's just it Frost, they will" she said plaintively, "if I go home now I will be proving my peers right. All those men telling me every day that I have no business practicing my craft in a man's world, I'll be proving them all right. I do have to do this or I'll be just another weak woman."
He looked at her long and hard for a moment.
"Maura, you are not weak. Cavanaugh obviously believes in you or he wouldn't have sent you here, right? You got this ma'am" he said with a wink. "I believe you can do this."
She smiled finally, taking the red bustier from his grasp to hold it up against herself, striking an awkward pose;
"It's Katie, remember?"
"Well Katie Beauclerc, I think you're gonna do just fine tonight."
XXXXX
A few hours and many mini-panics later saw Katie Beauclerc warily peeking through the doorway at the top of the outside staircase round the back of The Dirty Bandit, her corset hidden away beneath a long coat that reached almost to her ankles. To the casual passer-by the only things that might have looked a touch daring were the black patent leather heeled shoes with silver buckles that gleamed in the broad moonlight atop sensuous stockings that felt deliciously libidinous against her skin as she moved. It was still early days but this new and unfamiliar sensation for Maura, of masquerading as Katie Beauclerc, a woman of outwardly easy virtue felt remarkably freeing.
Inside were a dozen similarly-clad corseted figures cutting the perfect silhouettes all in the gaudiest mixture of colours Maura had ever seen. It was at once wonderful and terrifying, like a secret world of magic much as she imagined the backstage to a theatre might be and, in a way, she supposed, it was just exactly that. All greasepaint and illusion, nothing as it seemed. Girls with elaborate hairstyles and feathers & flowers sticking out from all manner of strange places bustled past the doorway. Maura manage to observe for a few minutes unnoticed until one woman caught the edge of the door with a hard clunk;
"In or out honey, you're letting a draught in!" she snarled, her eyes narrowed in annoyance, "an' just who the hell are you anyway?" she asked in a high-pitched cry while shifting her hands to her hips and tapping her foot impatiently.
"I-I'm the new singer," Maura stammered, "Katie, Katie Beauclerc" she finished gamely, sticking her hand out which the other girl opted to ignore.
"Third room down the right, the girls in there'll take care of you" she said shortly, jerking her head back towards the far reaches of the corridor, her tight auburn ringlets painstakingly piled high up on the top of her head wafting precariously with the sudden movement.
"Uh, thank you" Maura mumbled and shuffled off down the corridor, the tight bustier cinching her waist making any rapid movement ungainly, thinking to herself that she must look like a great wading bird.
"Uh, excuse me, pretty little warbler!" came a screech from behind her and Maura turned on her heel, almost knocking herself over in the process to find a delicately gloved finger pointing at the still open door. Jaw agape she rustled forward to close the door but by the time she looked up the redheaded goddess was already waltzing off down the hall, her voluptuous hips sashaying in the very embodiment of lust as she went. Maura watched agog. Never in her wildest dreams could she ever be so confident, so…brazen!
When she had finally recovered her senses, Maura found the door the redhead had directed her to and poked her head inside, mindful not to get caught malingering again she dodged inside hoping to stay as unobtrusive as possible but a pretty young brunette noticed her entrance. This one, however, sported a broad smile and a ready hand in greeting which Maura accepted warmly.
"Hi there, I'm Peggy, what's your name beautiful?" came the girl's rich, soothing tones.
"M- er- Katie, Katie Beauclerc. How do you do?" Maura stumbled yet again, it is not a lie, she told herself vehemently, feeling the beginnings of a tell-tale itch breaking out across her arms, while I am here my name is Katie Beauclerc! Come on Maura, pull yourself together! "and thank you, you're very sweet" she gushed, suddenly taking note of the other woman's subtle compliment and flushing appropriately.
"Well, I do very well Miss Beauclerc. I guess your Crowe's new singer, glad to have you aboard!" she beamed, her fresh face and golden-brown eyes twinkling in the dim illumination from a dozen or so candles littered about the dressing tables.
"Thank you" said Maura returning Peggy's infectious grin as the dark-haired girl who looked even younger than Maura's twenty-five years showed her where she could store her things and powder her face if she wanted to- not that she really needed to Peggy noted out loud;
"Why Katie, how'd you keep your skin so soft and nice like that? God, you'd think you'd never even seen a day of sunshine in your life!"
Maura couldn't think of an answer quick enough that wouldn't get her into trouble so she simply raised a shoulder modestly and lowered her face, looking abashed instead. Peggy didn't seem to mind, opting to take Katie for the shy type.
One by one the other girls gradually introduced themselves politely, taking note of Maura's various attributes with feminine appreciation but neither did they appear threatened- the new girl looked too timid to start muscling in on their clientele.
The noise of the dressing room was clamorous with excited chatter while the women swapped gossip and the air became progressively headier with the addition of several layers of perfume. It was getting harder and harder to breathe although admittedly that could have been the corset. Perhaps that was why instead of the slow, skilful extraction of information she had planned for the evening Maura rather imprudently blurted;
"I hear that Jane Rizzoli has been known to frequent this place…" she trailed off, noting the odd expression that crossed Peggy's features at the mention of the name.
Well done Maura, that was discreet! She inwardly cringed.
"Frequent?" Peggy chuckled, "my, you are a little far from home aren't ya, honey?" she stated matter-of-factly. "Yeah, Jane used to come 'round here, not for a while though. Why you askin' anyway?" she asked curiously.
"Oh, I was just wondering. I've been hearing a lot about her since I got here, I just wondering if she was really as they say. I've never met an, an outlaw before" she covered in a panic although her explanation wasn't exactly a lie either. Peggy's gaze settled on Maura's face shrewdly for long moments as if trying to assess the other woman's sincerity and the doctor wondered why, meeting the intense stare earnestly.
"Jane hasn't been here in a good long while," she said eventually, shrugging as she fiddled about with her scant few possessions atop her allocated dresser, "and I don't know what you've been hearing but some friendly advice? Honey, ain't no one round here'll speak a word against Jane Rizzoli, least of all me and the girls here" she continued at Maura's nod of encouragement, "She's well liked round these parts so you just mind what you're hearing alright?"
"So what is she like?" asked Maura, coming to rest atop a pile of clothes at the side of where Peggy continued to make herself up with tiny touches of powder and paint.
"Ha! Jane?" cried another skinny girl named Rita before Peggy could answer, "why Jane's more of a gentleman than the, uh…gentlemen!" she laughed instigating a round of giggles to rattle about the room. Peggy rolled her eyes good-naturedly and shook her head before turning her head to look Maura straight in the eye;
"Don't believe everything you hear sweetie," she said firmly but not unkindly, tilting Maura's chin up with her fingertips, "if Jane ever comes back around here you'll see what I mean and I hope to god it's soon."
XXXXX
The air, when Maura finally braved the trip down the stairs to the main saloon hit her like a force ten gale, her head rocking back convulsively at the stench of sweat colliding with a strong hit of whiskey and cigar smoke that burned at her eyes. All around the large space men caroused over poker games while girls with their buxom bosoms on full display bounced on laps and laughed with false delight. Yes, a few coins could provide great incentive.
Glancing across at the bar she spotted Crowe's stare and he thrust his head roughly in the direction of the piano and Maura took the hint, wading through the rollicking, roiling swathe of people to the rickety old piano where a young man in a brown suit and bowtie plonked away at a tune, just barely audible above the general hubbub.
"Hello!" she shouted, "I'm Katie Beauclerc, are you Sammy?"
"Yes ma'am!" he yelled back and pointed towards a stack of sheet music propped on the upright, "you read dots?"
"Why yes!" she exclaimed, elatedly grabbing the sheets in a tight enthusiastic grasp- at last, something familiar that she knew how to do, "but I don't know any of these songs" she said despondently, flipping through the yellowing leaves of paper. Clearly the sort of singing she had been used to performing in the polite parties of Washington society were not quite bawdy enough for places like The Dirty Bandit she thought dismally.
Thankfully Sammy noticed the disheartened look crossing Maura's features and he grinned winningly at her;
"Tell you what Katie, why don't you just start singing something you do know and I'll join in!"
Maura contemplated for a second, all too aware of Crowe's hard stares from across the bar, silently urging her to get on with it. Clearing her throat, she proceeded to sing, nervously at first but the longer she sang without anyone jeering or shouting in disgust the more confident she grew and soon her voice soared above the crowd, even a few of the patrons began to join in as the notes of the familiar chorus filtered through the thick air;
'Through progress of the railroads our occupation's gone;
So we will put ideas into words, our words into a song.
First comes the cowboy, he is pointed for the west;
Of all the pioneers I claim the cowboys are the best…'
The song finished to wild cheers and rapturous applause, even Crowe's features smoothed into a grumpy sort of satisfaction. After a second song, Maura smoothly moseyed back over to the bar, noticing with not a little gratification the look of consternation pasted across the redhead's face who had been so rude to her earlier in the evening. She was already starting to enjoy this undercover malarkey; you're here to do a job, remember? She mentally kicked herself.
The redhead looked as though she were about to saunter over to where Maura now stood self-consciously at the corner of the main bar with malicious intent but as it happened a small whirlwind of excitement distracted her as a bundle of barely contained energy barrelled through the swinging shutter doors.
"Lucia!" cried Peggy, the redhead and several of the other nearby girls.
"Well hi there, stranger," came Peggy, immediately placing her arm around the newcomer's shoulders and kissing her cheek, "funny, we were just talking about you" she murmured into the other woman's ear as she led her over to the bar and pouring her a whiskey.
Lucia? Maura's ears perked up, wasn't that the name Frost thought was Jane Rizzoli's alias? She thought, sidling herself subtly closer; Looks like Rizzoli is more of a regular here than the girls were making out…unless, no, they must know who that is but why would they lie about it? Are they protecting her in some way? Or perhaps themselves?
Carefully she edged nearer still, just enough to try and earwig on the ensuing conversation.
'Well hey there pretty stranger, long time no-see' intoned the redhead in sensual undertones, insinuating herself into the narrow gap between Lucia's body and the bar top, almost knocking the bottle of whiskey over and bringing the other woman's hand to her own waist.
'Now, now, don't tell me you missed me there Miss Rachel' came the cocky reply, 'I'll just bet you've been getting' more'n' enough attention to keep me off your mind' and Rachel gave her a mock-affronted smack to the arm.
The newcomer, Lucia, was tall and slim, not out and out muscular but definitely wiry with a distinct power behind her movements. Here was a physical being clearly used to getting what she wanted or at least knowing how to make it happen but that voice. That voice, Maura found it drawing her into a whiskey-soaked haze. It was rough but there was a gentleness behind it in the way she talked and flirted playfully with the women who now crowded around her like bees round a queen, even some who had previously been seeing to other 'customers'.
Lucia, for her part, sipped her drink and smiled as she listened to the girls' chatter for a few minutes before politely excusing herself, nodding to Crowe and hinting for him to meet her at the far end of the bar, flicking a curious glance at Maura for just a second on her way past.
"Who's the new girl?" she muttered under her breath at the contemptible barkeep. She had no real regard for the man and knew fine and well how he treated his employees which was why she had tried to help out where she could, slipping them a few extra coins here and there, fending off over familiar patrons that proved a little too 'handsy' without stumping up the required fee first or worse still, using their hands in more violent methods but he was a useful mine for information and so she tolerated him with thinly veiled contempt. He tolerated her because of the business she brought him through her own notoriety and also by the healthy amount of coins that passed from her curiously ridged hands to his. He never had ever built up the nerve to ask her how she got those scars. He'd heard that the last man who asked her had wound up dead. How true that was he didn't know but it wasn't worth finding out.
"New singer. She's off limits for now," he grunted, offering a sick grin that made her guts give a sharp twist, "I got plans for her though, don't you worry Rizzoli."
"Looks like she's pretty new to the game" she noted with false dispassion. She looks nervous, she noted, her eyes are everywhere…and that skin's perfect, never been touched. That girl don't belong in a place like this she thought sourly. It was bad enough that a sweet thing like Peg had found herself in a place like this.
The two continued to converse for a while and Maura watched avidly. They were too far away and the tavern once again far too noisy to pick up any of the conversation and besides, Lucia's back was turned to her but she was a decent lipreader. If she focused, she could just make out Crowe saying something like;
"Carson? Nah, not seen him in months…I'm telling ya Rizzoli, he ain't been by here…"
So it was Jane Rizzoli. But hold on, she thought, racking her brains, hadn't Cavanaugh talked about the Carson Gang, Jane's old associates…hadn't Cavanaugh mentioned something about Carson Gang trying to bring Jane back into the fold, gah, something about a mutual interest…Maura couldn't think straight and while she may have picked up more of the conversation a decidedly unfriendly arm slapped itself about her shoulders and a wicked voice cut through her ear breaking her concentration;
"Sorry honey but you ain't getting' your hands on that one!" redheaded Rachel howled with bitter laughter, "you gotta earn your stripes first but hey, don't you worry your pretty little head now, you go find one of the boys that's more your style. This one's mine!"
And then she sauntered off, interrupting what looked like a mildly irritated Jane. Maura's head was already pounding and she really wished she could just go on upstairs to bed but she found herself continuing to stare openly at the barefaced woman who was now pressed up against the bar, the buckle of Jane's belt pressed lewdly and the juncture of her thighs as Rachel giggled wildly, her arms thrown casually about the other woman's leonine neck.
"What do you know about the new girl?" asked Jane quietly even as she began a gentle assault on Rachel's neck, allowing her hands to wander to down to the hem of Rachel's corset.
"Not much. City mouse come to the country, probably won't hack it for long…ha!" she laughed loud in Jane's ear, "mouse is about right! Afraid of her own itty, bitty shadow that one. Why do you care so much anyway?"
Jane shook her head distractedly;
"I don't know," she paused, allowing her thoughts to settle for a second, "there's something…off. What the hell's a girl like that doing in a place like this? She was watching me talk to Crowe."
Rachel huffed impatiently;
"She's trying to make it in a world she don't belong in- clumsy with it too! There. Now are you gonna keep this up or are we gonna have us a little good time tonight? I have missed you y'know!"
Jane suspected it was the crop of cash she usually brought with her that Rachel had really missed but Jane was a prime customer and Rachel was sort of the chief around the inn who kept the rest of the ladies in line, so-to-speak. Jane would have much rather spent the evening with the quiet, unassuming Peg but she also knew that Rachel would never have stood for it. Rachel was brash and boisterous and proud, in an odd sort of way about what she did for a living. Jane was quiet and reserved, she lived her life in the shadows but the impetuous redhead insisted on throwing a stream of bright light on them both purely for her own bragging rights. She was fun and good for a laugh and god-knew even Jane had a hard time keeping up with her but honestly, Rachel enjoyed her place of privilege as first to bag and bed anyone with a notorious reputation who happened on through.
As for Maura, it was only when she felt the unwelcome heat at her back that she noticed a sweating lump of grease that smelled like it hadn't been bathed since he was a day old had begun sidling up to her. She tried in vain to back away but the man kept leering at her, attempting to paw at the well-rounded bounty on blatant display before his eyes. Soon the blonde found herself backed into a corner with nowhere to go but then to her complete horror a shot was fired from seemingly nowhere, the glass the man had been holding was shattered all over the sticky wooden surface of the bar and he scuttled off into the throng. It was only when she looked across at Lucia…Jane…whoever she was that the woman was silently holstering a still smoking pistol back into its place on her belt all the while having never removed her head from Rachel's neck. But before she had time to react Peggy came rushing up, her hands instantly placed on either of Maura's shoulders;
"Katie! Honey! Are you alright?"
Maura, for her part, was completely poleaxed. Not once in her life had she ever actually experienced gunfire. Yes, her father had kept a rifle in his study for self-defence back in Boston but he had never actually used it! She stared open-mouthed at Peggy, unable to coalesce any of the words racing through her mind into a coherent sentence.
"C'mon, let's get you a seat, I think maybe I oughtta explain a few things to you, alright?" and with that, Peggy led a still dazed Maura off to a small side table.
While Peggy went to get Maura a steadying drink of cold water, recovering from her own shock after discovering that the blonde never touched a drop of alcohol except for a glass of Champagne at New Year. After all, Who the heck could afford Champagne? Maura spotted Jane and Peggy murmuring in conversation, unable to read what they were saying, their heads bent close together and for an instant, Maura was inexplicably envious. Eventually the two broke apart with Peg reaching for a jug of water from behind the counter while Jane walked past with a rather giddy-looking Rachel who looked to be leading the tall brunette towards the back stairs. Jane cast her an appraising glance as she passed by followed with a smirk that was cocky yet not unkind and a cheeky wink that made Maura's stomach give an involuntary flip. There were so many layers of interaction going on here that the very literal doctor had no genuine hope of understanding. What she needed was to talk to Frost in the morning. In the meantime, she hoped that Peggy might be willing to answer some of her questions. If not, she was certain she would be haunted by that smirk the rest of the night.
Phew! That felt like a lot of information to get out at once there but it needed to be done! Hope it wasn't too much of a slog to read!
Remember that reviews and button-presses are like fat-free muffins to me so feed the writer!
Incidentally, if you are like me and caught up in this crazy weatherfront then stay safe out there guys!
Also, don't worry, we'll be seeing much more of Jane's perspective in the next few chapters but we're being introduced to this world by Maura so I kinda had to get her in there first.
