Cougar's Prey (9781101544846) (6 page)

Josiah felt a nervous twitch ride up his spine, and he regretted not carrying his gun.

A quick glance over his shoulder told him that the way out of the back of the building was still clear.

“Doesn't matter much what you want at this point, Wolfe. The people want their story, and they're making darn sure everyone on Congress Avenue hears those demands. This isn't going away anytime soon. You should have thought about that when you killed Captain Feders.”

Josiah felt his anger rising. Hoagland was trying to provoke him. “I'm not answering your questions, sir.”

“I won't give up.”

“I'll tell you what, Hoagland. Let's wait and see what comes about after the meetings today, then you come to my house, and I'll sit down and talk with you. How's that?”

“An exclusive?”

“Call it what you want, but if I don't get out of here soon, you'll have your next big story. I'll be torn limb from limb.”

“That sure would sell some newspapers, now, wouldn't it?”

The chants were growing louder, the crowd closer. Josiah could smell the anger in the air. It was like kerosene, ready to explode at any moment.

“Murderer! Killer!” was being repeated over and over again.

“I need to get out of here,” Josiah said.

“I can have your word that you'll talk to me?”

Josiah nodded yes. “My word is all I have left.”

“All right, then,” Hoagland said. “I'd run if I were you.”

A shiny black coach sat waiting outside the back door of the capitol building. The polish gleamed in the midday sun, making it look like the fancy rig was downright glowing. Two horses, both solid black and impeccably cared for, stood in wait, while the driver, dressed professionally in black, too, began swinging his arms wildly upon seeing Josiah exit the Old Stone Capitol in haste.

“Come, Señor Wolfe, in here. Hurry, you have very little time. It is safe, I promise you.”

Josiah recognized the driver immediately. It was Pedro, the manservant and general overseer of the Fikes estate.

The door to the coach popped open, but the window panels were pulled closed, so it was impossible to tell who was inside.

The last thing Josiah wanted to do was jump into the fire from the frying pan, boarding the coach that looked more suited for a funeral parade than an escape and coming face-to-face with the Widow Fikes. He'd had enough grilling for one day, and if he never saw that woman again, it would be too soon.

Noise from the crowd grew louder from inside the building. Josiah only had a second to decide whether to make a run for it, leading the angry mob to the only safe place he had left, his home, or trying to ditch them in the nearby Mexican section of Austin, “Little Mexico,” with which he was more familiar than most Anglos—or trying his luck with the coach. Either was a risk, but in the end, with the screams growing louder, and the crowd drawing ever closer, Josiah chose to trust Pedro.

The manservant had showed him no ill intent in the past, but the allegiance the tall, well-groomed Mexican had to the Widow Fikes was unmistakable—he was loyal to her commands and whims more than to any other person without exception. Except for one: Pearl.

Pedro was even more loyal to the widow's daughter than to the widow, and it was that thought that prompted Josiah to jump inside the waiting coach.

He slammed the door behind him as he dove into an empty bench seat.

Darkness surrounded him as an unknown arm pulled the door closed and locked it tight.

Chants came from outside as the crowd burst from the building in fervent chase. Someone threw a rock at the coach, and another angry pursuer hit it with a hand, struggling to open the locked door.

“Murderer! Killer! Traitor! Hang! Hang! Hang!”

Before Josiah could scream at Pedro to get a move on, the coach lurched forward and began to pull away from the crowd.

Still lost in darkness, Josiah could not see what was happening outside of the coach, if they were surrounded or being chased. Nor could he see who was sitting across from him, but he had a hint; the smell of spring filled his nose. It was a familiar fragrance, one that he immediately recognized and associated with Pearl and not her mother.

The coach was at full speed now, the inside still jarring and shaking as Pedro cut and turned every which way he could, obviously trying to escape the mob without causing any harm to anyone inside or outside, as he tried to shake the pursuers off his trail.

“Josiah.” It was a whisper in the dark. It
was
Pearl. “I'm sorry, Josiah.”

A shift of weight, then a rustle of clothes met Josiah ears, and he suddenly felt Pearl against him, burrowing her face into his chest.

His eyes were adjusting now, and the side panels cracked and pulled as the coach sped away, teetering at the turns, allowing bits of harsh sunlight inside the close quarters. Thankfully, Pearl was alone.

He was relieved to see her, but having her next to him, being alone with her, under no scrutiny at all, made him extremely uncomfortable—and happy at the same time.

Josiah tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go, no escaping Pearl's embrace. He felt his chest grow moist and realized that Pearl was sobbing into it. Her tears were warm and heavy. Crying women were a mystery to him.

The loudness of the crowd had dissipated, but the ride in the coach was still thunderous and noisy.

“I thought I would never see you again,” Pearl said, raising her face to Josiah's.

Even tearstained and full of emotion, there was no mistaking the striking beauty of the face of the woman Josiah found himself in the company of. He had to restrain every muscle in his body not to kiss her deeply.

Pearl Fikes had long blond hair that looked like it came straight out of a fairy tale and could have been spun into gold. Her eyes, when not full of tears, were a soft blue and were gentle, loving, and kind—unless she was cross; then there was no mistaking that Pearl was the daughter of Captain Hiram Fikes, unyielding to fools and idiots, with a stubborn streak a mile long.

Josiah was glad to be near Pearl, regardless of the scrutiny, glad to take in the fragrance of her skin, to touch her, to hold her.

From the first moment he had seen her—standing on the balcony of the grand house on the estate in the falling evening light—Josiah was certain she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Guilt, of course, had taken over his heart, because his love for Lily still lived deep in his soul. He had tried to ignore Pearl, tried to deny the attraction he felt for her . . . but he could not resist. Not when she obviously felt the same way about him.

“How did you know that I had a meeting in the capitol?” Josiah asked.

Pedro had slowed the coach, and Josiah pulled away from Pearl slightly, freeing his arm so he could peek outside. They were north of downtown Austin. It looked like they had outrun the mob.

“I know far more about what's been going on than you think I do, Josiah Wolfe.”

Josiah opened the blind halfway, wishing he had a gun with him. “I don't need a rescuer.”

“Obviously you do.” The sunlight beamed off Pearl's wet face. She straightened herself up and produced a delicate lace handkerchief out of nowhere and began to dab her face dry. “What was your plan? Just to run as fast you could?”

“I was going to lead them into Little Mexico, a place very few Anglos go, even in the light of day.”

“But you know your way around there?”

“Thanks to Juan Carlos, I do.”

“Well, I suppose that was a good enough plan.”

“I wasn't expecting a crowd.”

“I'm sure you weren't,” Pearl said, tucking the handkerchief away in the folds of her dress. It was not black like everything else Josiah was surrounded by. Her dress was off-white, perfect in every way, and looked like it had come straight off the shelf in Hadley's Lady's Shoppe, a fine and expensive store on Congress Avenue.

Josiah exhaled deeply and focused on Pearl's face. The last time he had seen her was after he returned from near Laredo, after he faced Pete Feders and pulled the trigger. Her mother was furious, but Pearl had made it clear that she was not distraught by the news, that she saw it as their chance to be together. Josiah wasn't so sure then that they could ever have a life together. He was even less sure now.

“Where is Pedro taking us?” Josiah asked.

“A spot on the river where we can be alone and talk.”

Josiah settled back into the corner of the seat, as far away from Pearl as was physically possible. “You think that's a good idea?”

“You shouldn't let my mother scare you.”

“Have you read the papers lately?”

“Every word. You think my mother is behind the headlines?”

“I have reason to believe she is, yes,” Josiah said.

Pearl nodded, glanced out of the open window quickly, then turned back to Josiah. Her face was less than serene, but not angry, perhaps annoyed. “I cannot dispute the fact that Mother may be feeding the flames, but even without any intervention or prodding on her part, the papers would be making this a bigger story than it really is.”

“And you think it's a good thing to be seen with me?”

“I couldn't go another minute without seeing you.” Tears welled up quickly in Pearl's soft blue eyes.

“How can I court you properly with all of this happening? With your mother banishing me from your property forever? I just think we need time, Pearl. Let things quiet down a little bit. At least wait and see what General Steele and the others decide about my fate. If there is a trial, then all of this will just get worse. And where's that going to leave us?”

“I'll stand by your side proudly.”

“I know you will, but I think that would just make things worse for you. So far, the papers have been kind to you, painting me as an interloper, a specter of greed, only after your inheritance. That's why I suspect that your mother is pulling some strings. Otherwise, we would be flayed together as conspirators in Pete's death.”

Pearl drew in a breath, exhaled softly, and looked upward for a long second. “Mother has very few strings left to pull, Josiah. You are more than aware of that. I don't know how much longer she will be able to keep up the charade of wealth. The bankers visited yesterday. My life is about to change in a way I'm not sure I understand, Josiah, and you are the steadiest, most trusted person I have to count on. I know you didn't kill Peter to get him out of the way. You had no choice.”

It was not exactly a question, but the look on Pearl's face seemed to demand an answer. Josiah let the words linger, did not respond right away. There would always be a moment to consider whether or not Josiah had any other choice than to shoot first—but there was no way Pete Feders was going to be taken in to face the crimes he'd committed, not without a fight. The choice of his life, or Pete's life, or Scrap's life, would have come quickly if Josiah had let the shot go. He might be dead now himself. There was no way to know. He only knew he couldn't live with the regret for the rest of his life, like he was at the moment.

“I had no choice, Pearl,” he finally said. “I didn't want to kill Pete Feders.”

“I know you didn't. I know your heart. I felt it beating against my very own.”

“As much as I would love to spend every second from now until eternity alone with you along the river, I think we need to have Pedro take me home.”

“I need you,” Pearl whispered.

Josiah stiffened. “When the time is right.”

“What if that time never comes?”

“Then we'll just have to treasure what time we've had together.”