Authors: Kathleen Y'Barbo
“Flora, I told you⦔ He shook his head and went silent as his eyes seemed to be scanning the horizon.
As the orchestra finished their tune, the night sounds of New Orleans replaced the combination of voice and chamber music in the ballroom. The air was thick with the portent of rain, quite heavy and still. Even the wisteria vine that wound around the porch rails appeared to be drooping from the weight of it.
Slowly he returned his attention to her. Again she caught him looking at her ears.
“Do you like them?” she asked sweetly.
“Very nice.” He met her eyes, this time with a measure of what she almost believed might be insolence.
Flora took a deep breath and let it out slowly. From where she stood, she could see the crowd through the closed French doors. Unfortunately, Mr. Tucker had chosen an unlit corner of the balcony, so it was quite unlikely anyone could see them.
She thought of Lucas and his sister. Of Irish eyes and then of Violet and Brimmfield. When had simple solutions become so complicated?
Her attention returned to the man beside her. A wrong word could cause more trouble than she wanted, of this she was certain. And yet he had lied to her. He had stolen the one possession she valued most. And worse, he had given her a hope that she might have gained a safe future for Violet through her marriage to him.
For that alone he deserved to go to jail.
Now, if Lucas would only hurry and miss her. Hurry and find her. Find them.
He moved a step closer and leaned against the balcony rail, his elbow touching hers. A sideways glance told her his attention was on the crowd inside.
“Why am I here, Flora? Are we to be married tomorrow or not?”
“My mother's earrings,” she said with the same steel holding up her spine. “I want them back, Will Tucker.” A pause. “Or whatever your name is. And no, I don't think marriage will suit us now. Not with what I've come to know about you.”
To her surprise, he showed no sign of emotion. Rather, he swung around to place her between him and the rail. Now the eyes that she'd felt were so kind seemed harder, his touch that had been soft she now began to fear.
“My name is Will Tucker. I am a detective for the Frisco Railroad. I've told you all of that. As for the rest, I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Yes, you do,” she said softly. “I know what happened to Mary-Margaret McMinn.”
His eyes narrowed. He looked away, revealing a vein throbbing at his temple that she could see even in the pale moonlight.
And then in an instant his expression returned to neutral. “Detective Wilson and I are still investigating her death,” he said lightly.
“Detective Wilson? Are you claiming that man at the telegraph office isâ”
“A lawman? Yes. And if you've heard that woman's death was an accident, you're mistaken. Her brother was the only witness besides the driver, and those men aren't paid enough to tell the truth if a lie is more profitable. Anyway, once we finish our investigation, we can certainly take up another regarding your jewelry. Now what was it again? A watch?”
“No, Mr. Tucker. A stolen watch is what you gave me. Stolen earrings are what you're intent on passing forward to the next victim. Only there will be no next victim.”
“Flora, truly I don'tâ”
“Enough!” With anger blinding her to caution, Flora reached out to jab him with her index finger. “I'm tired of hearing lies from you, Mr. Tucker. Someday the truth will catch up to you, but here is what I know for certain. You gave me Mary-Margaret's watch. Please tell whomever you're planning on giving my mother's earrings to that she will be prosecuted for receipt of stolen property. And, by the way, they are an exact copy of the ones I'm wearing, so obtaining a match for evidence will be quite simple. But you already noticed that, didn't you?”
“Flora,” he said as he remained stock-still. “You're making some dangerous accusations.”
“No, Mr. Tucker, I am merely stating facts.” She rested both hands on the rail and prepared to hold on tight should the man attempt to push her.
Protect me, Lord
, was the prayer she breathed as she stared up into the face of the man she had almost married.
“You don't want to cooperate with Lucas McMinn.”
“Well, that's where you're right. I rarely want to cooperate with him. In fact, he would be extremely upset if he knew I was out here with you. However, I want my mother's earrings back. Just give them to me and we can both walk away.”
“I don't make a habit of walking around with women's jewelry, Flora.”
“Then find them and return them. Concoct a story. Drop them on my doorstep. Send them in the mail. I don't care what you do, but return them.”
Mr. Tucker's chuckle held no humor. And then he was gone, vaulting over the railing to land on his feet in the courtyard below. Flora's shaking knees refused to move, her quivering lips unable to call out for someone to give chase.
And then she recalled just who she was. She was Flora Brimm of the Natchez Brimms. And she was the second best climber in all of Natchez.
Testing the rail, she looked around to be certain no one was watching. Lucas and Mr. Russell were still deep in conversation, giving Flora reason to believe she'd never have time to alert them and still catch Tucker.
Her decision made, she lifted her skirts to ease over the rail and then moved carefully to the narrow strip of windowsill. From her vantage point she could see that Mr. Tucker had run into a snag in making his escape. The courtyard where he'd landed had a locked gate. At present, he was attempting a climb that looked most unlikely.
Looking beyond the gates, she spied several carriages with drivers waiting. Unfortunately, the darkness that made the balcony an excellent meeting place also hid her from view. To call out would be to risk the criminal escaping another way.
Only she could stop him. What she would do when she caught up to him was the least of her concerns. All she knew was that he must be caught before he took advantage of someone else. Perhaps a citizen's arrest would be in order.
Or she could just club him over the head and wait for help. She sighed. Not likely, given the fact she couldn't even work herself up sufficiently to slap her cousin. And he was threatening her home and family.
The creep down in the courtyard had merely stolen baubles. Her mother's baubles, to be sure, but inanimate objects all the same.
For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
Her courage bolstered, she edged over to grasp the worn wooden shutter, all the while praying the black iron straps securing it would hold. Inch by inch, she crossed the space between the windows until she reached the next one. Again, she prayed the shutter would hold until she could make her way past.
Unfortunately, it did not.
Air swirled around her as she tumbled backward, the worn green shutter besting her in its swift descent. Something zinged past her and then returned to cinch her waist, stealing the air from her lungs. A second later, the ground coming ever nearer, breath failed her and all went black.
L
ucas hauled Flora against him and then cut loose the filament line that had caught her. As light as she was, her dead weight had made it challenging to raise her back up to the balcony. As he was pulling on the line and bringing the woman he loved to the shelter of his arms, Lucas couldn't help thinking that if he and Kyle never created another invention, he was perfectly happy with the knowledge this one gadget had saved Flora's life.
Unfortunately, the filament line had squeezed tight around her middle. Had she not been wearing a corset of hardy material, Flora might have had broken ribsâor worse.
Instead, she would be sore but otherwise very much unharmed.
“What the⦔ Kyle came up behind him, carefully closing the door. “I thought I saw you out here, but I⦠What happened to Miss Brimm?”
A movement down in the courtyard caught Lucas's attention. “She's fine,” he whispered. “She almost fell climbing down the wall, but our filament line saved her. The breath has been knocked out of her, but she ought to come to in a minute.” He made another sweeping glance of the courtyard. Yes, there it was again. “Stay with her while I check something out.”
Kyle nodded and gathered Flora into his arms. Lucas yanked on the rail. Sturdy enough. Another look back to meet Kyle's gaze. “Yeah, I know. You love her, so I'd better keep her safe.” He patted the revolver strapped to his side. “Go on. If she wakes up, I'll keep her out here until you return. Either way, we'll get her to safety together.”
A nod and then he climbed out and followed what surely had been Flora's path across the front of the building. Carefully sidestepping the place where the wooden shutter hung precariously, he saw a drainpipe and lunged for it.
Capturing the metal with both fists, Lucas glanced back to be certain Kyle still maintained his vigil with Flora. At a nod from his old friend, Lucas put his mind to the task at hand.
With the orchestra playing an up-tempo song, the sound of his boots hitting the brick courtyard was, he hoped, sufficiently muffled. He could still see Tucker's fair hair as he gave up on trying the gate and moved across the courtyard toward the servants' quarters.
Lucas had grown up traversing most of the back gardens and alleys in this part of New Orleans, so it was a simple matter to duck under the rainspout and around the corner to follow the side yard until it met the back wall of the old summer kitchen.
A crunch of footsteps on gravel told him Tucker was nearby. Lucas palmed his weapon and moved forward, his own steps quiet as a cat from all the years of playing hiding games in places just like this one.
He reached the edge of the building and paused to take a deep breath. When the steps came near, he said a quick prayer and then rushed from his hiding place to tackle Will Tucker. The crook never saw him coming, though he did put up a good fight.
Two swings with his free hand, and Lucas had Tucker on the ground. He stood over the downed criminal with his weapon poised. Everything in him begged the man to break and run. Any excuse to shoot him.
Instead Tucker swiped at the blood on his cheek. “I guess I deserved that,” he said slowly. “You gonna shoot me?”
“Nothing would please me more. Unfortunately, if I did that would make me no better than you. Get up and let's go.”
Tucker did as he was told. When he was upright, Lucas snapped on handcuffs and led him out to the front gate. Summoning the Brimms' driver, he sent the fellow off in search of a police officer. He glanced behind him and looked up at the balcony to see that Flora was still in Kyle's arms. The fact that she was not yet standing troubled him, though he forced his attention back on Tucker. A thorough pat down revealed a Navy pistol that Lucas quickly pocketed.
“Got anything else you need to admit to?”
“Nope.”
Lucas ran his hand over Tucker's jacket and felt a suspicious lump. “What's this?” he asked as he reached into the jacket and found a small box hidden in a pocket. He hoped it contained Flora's mother's earrings.