Chapter Seventy Six
Nick told Heath briefly about Anna and Lisette being harassed at Jarrod's office. He was furious.
"Nick? Can Anna shoot? I made Grete learn a few weeks ago. I trust Butch but just in case—Seems that fancy derringer of Jarrod's mighta come in handy."
"Good idea little brother and I already talked to her about it. She's getting Kai and Henry to bed. Henry was confused when Lisette came home in such a state. He's a smart kid. He knows something is wrong around here."
"Well, wish me luck. gotta go tell Grete about the sheriff and Jehu—-put it off long enough."
Heath walked down the hall and pushed open their door. He saw one of his favorite sights, Grete in front of the vanity in her robe brushing out her hair. He had to school his body as he came up behind her and kissed her neck
"I missed you Heath."
"I missed you more, wife. Let me get cleaned up."
He took his time in the water closet dreading telling her about the missing preacher.
She looked so lovely and desirable when he came out—his will was muddled for the conversation and he took her into his arms.
"It can wait until tomorrow."
—&—-
Victoria checked on Lisette several times during the night. The empty wine glass by the bed had seemed to do the trick. Jarrod was asleep on Henry's trundle next to her, fully dressed. She covered up her oldest and kissed his forehead. He stirred and opened his eyes.
"Mother? Everything ok?"
"Yes she is sleeping and it is my prayer that this will all work out soon. You son—-deserve your share of happiness."
"Thank you lovely lady."
"Sleep well."
—&—-
Paul woke up with a terrible hangover. He grimaced at the young married woman beside him still sleeping peacefully.
The Marlborough party had turned quite wild after the chaperones retired for the evening. Their east coast mansion in Newport, Rhode Island was the site of many raucous parties of the Knickerbocker children.
Paul partied with Astors, Vanderbilts—-Winthrops, Morgan and other families with bored millionaire children. The beautiful young twenty-year-old beside him was married to a sixty-year-old in a wheelchair. She waited each night until his nursemaid dosed him with a sleeping draught and she escaped to her world of parties, alcohol and handsome young men.
Paul got up and used the water closet. He wanted to head back to his hotel room and freshen up. He and the lady had used each other for their mutual delight but he worried it would seem ungentlemanly to leave before dawn.
He discarded the sheath discreetly into the rubbage bin inside of a tobacco pouch.
"You know the servants talk," he said to himself.
He quietly dressed in his pants and shirt. He checked his pocket watch again.
He frowned—-the watch had been a gift from his father-in-law. With gratitude and respect, son.
"I will look for a new watch next time I am in New York. Something with diamonds. This old one doesn't seem to keep the proper time." he told himself.
He sat in the chair still deciding if he should leave or not. The letter this week he received from Nate Springer Esquire of San Francisco came to his mind. He tried to tamp down the implications all week.
"I know Lisette. She won't endanger Henry. She guards his future like a hawk."
The woman moaned and sat up, "A hawk? Is something outside?"
He was mortified he spoke aloud,
"No my lovely, reciting a poem."
"Ah, what a fine thing to do."
"It's almost dawn. I must leave and I assume you should too. Would you like a ride in my carriage or will that draw attention to our assignation?"
"I will call my own just in case." she smiled, "Last night was lovely. Maybe another day?"
"Of course my dear lady. I bid you adieu for now."
"I like a man who speaks French."
He frowned for an instant. All his French had come from Lissy.
He got in his carriage and headed to the hotel.
Nate's words came back to him—We are in possession of a private investigator's findings confirmed by a Pinkerton report and a birth certificate. It is to the benefit to all parties to settle this discretely and with haste.
"She wouldn't dare."
—-&—-
"Boss? Should we head back? It might heat up if them ladies get fired up."
"It's yore fault. Thought you said Heath was arrested."
"I saw him go off with his brothers to jail. Saw it with my own eyes."
"Hmphf. Why ain't the preacher's body found? Thought you put it where they'd be sure to find it. Implicate Heath. You had his round of bullets and the same kind of gun he used. That special one he orders at the smith. Lifted those—"Can't sell these. They's ordered for the Barkleys."
"I did, I swear. Right in the pond they was dredging. Buried him with Heath's bullets in him. Stopped up the drain so the water would lower. Should have exposed it by daybreak. I even rode out there and the plan worked. No water and a mound of dirt I could see from the trees."
"Damn. Seems foolproof. Like I said earlier. May be keeping it a secret for some reason."
"Maybe we need to hype up the rumors? What about Widow Jones family? They's still hot under the collar. Does their delivery boy still run some errands for the cook downstairs?"
"Yes sir.
"Make sure that cleaning girl he's sweet on—- Overhears it. Let's see if we can add some kindling to the fire."
"Are there any details you don't notice?"
"Pride myself on it. Couldn't get where I am today without noticing anything I can use. Always tell as much of the truth as possible too. Makes it harder for folks to figure out the lie dug down into it."
"Are we going home after they hang Barkley?"
"Nah. Still want a visit with the Frenchie. Maybe she will be unattended during the hanging. And Paul may thank me. Iff'n she doesn't survive all my manhood has to offer, he gets his kid and all the money that goes along with it."
"You would kill her?"
He shrugged his shoulders, "Happens. Everyone dies sooner or later."
The hand swallowed down at the utter callousness of his boss.
"Sooner I make my gold the better. I want out of here."