My Angel (9 page)

"The man wasn't satisfied with the merchandise and insisted that some of the garments be redone." After looking Devil straight in the eye, she added hastily, "He still isn't satisfied and he returned several garments. He won't pay the bill until the clothes suit him.

"Madame Giselle says he left her high and dry without a cent. She says the dresses are perfect the way they are, and the changes he's insisted on are impossible. That's why she was so cross with you just now. She wants her money."

"Tell your boss that if I find the lady in question, and if the lady is willing, I'll settle the bills."

"Oh, thank you, sir." The girl swung around, her skirts billowing, and headed back to the shop.

"Bad news, Devil?"

The slight sneer in Rusty's voice didn't sit well with Devil at the moment. He wasn't in the mood to deal with the little scamp, nor did he care to listen to the boy's lies. His anger and frustration burned deep even while he thanked Allah he'd found at least one clue to the angel's whereabouts.

"No, now that I think on it, the information is very good." Devil's stride lengthened. "What do you want, Rusty? More advice?"

"Mother wanted me to ask if you wanted a piece of pie."

"No." He paused thoughtfully. "Get Jabbar ready. I'm going for a ride."

"Think you'll meet up with the little blond hellion again?" Rusty taunted.

Devil schooled his features.' 'What do you know about her?''

Rusty shrugged his thin shoulders. "Not much.'' He glanced sideways at Devil then at the tall man striding toward them.

"Misha," Devil said.

Misha tipped his hat.

Devil waited for an answer, his arms crossed over his chest, a stern expression on his face. "Out with it, Rusty. All of it."

Rusty had the look of the cat who caught the canary and wasn't about to spit it up. "She kept her big stallion here."

Devil waited, and his hand came down on the back of Rusty's neck, exerting pressure. The boy squirmed then settled.

"The man she came to
Denver
with rode out of here a few hours ago. Headed into the hills." Rusty looked too smug.

"What do you know about him?"

"I think the man gave the big stallion to her and then decided she wasn't worth the money he spent on her. I think she's run off. Haven't seen her in two days."

"Have Jabbar ready in an hour," Devil said and watched patiently while Rusty scurried into the livery, rubbing his neck where Devil's fingers had exerted pressure.

"I'll make sure the boy gets into no more mischief," Misha said.

Devil nodded. "Watch him carefully."

On impulse Devil started for
Holladay Street
. Questions about Angel came to mind, questions he wasn't sure he wanted the answers to.

Rusty clearly baited him. Why?

The man the boy spoke of had a place in Angel's life. What exactly his Angel was to the man, he had to find out. Mistress? Lover? Wife? The thought of Angel being anyone's wife made his heart stop.

But the thought of his Angel ending up on the wickedest thoroughfare in the West made him sick to his stomach. He didn't know where to start looking for her, but at the moment
Holladay Street
seemed like the best idea he could come up with. As he walked he passed shabby cribs, elegant parlor houses, and fancy brothels. She could be in any one of them.

Revulsion swept through him. His angel was no whore. He would have sensed her experience, would have recognized the practiced moves, the knowing kisses. Yet a desperate urge to find her gripped him with talon-like fingers. He stared at the filthy cribs, praying he wouldn't discover her in one of them.

Devil pulled his pocket watch from his vest pocket. Time seemed to slip by, the hour of the auction drawing closer. All hell was about to break loose while he walked aimlessly up and down a street filled with whores.

He ran restless fingers through his hair. After the auction he'd locate her. Right now he didn't have the time. He had made promises and he had to keep them. He prayed his Angel was not a prostitute, and he prayed he would find her soon. He didn't like the thought of her left alone and vulnerable.

Devil headed back to the livery, his mood tense and irritable, calling himself a fool in several languages. His Angel was too sweet to become one of those hardened ladies of the evening. She had responded to his kisses as if she'd never been kissed before.

He had jumped to conclusions.

His heart relieved, he whistled a tune from the old country as he walked down the sidewalk.

~ * ~

Devil mounted Jabbar and cantered the big horse through the streets of
Denver
until he reached the edge of town. Misha rode with him. They turned their horses into the hills and let the stallions have full rein. A hot spring sun shone down on them. Sweat-slipped down Devil's neck.

One hour later Devil rode between two granite cliffs and then down into a hollow sheltered on four sides by stately evergreen trees. A cool breeze dried his sweat-soaked shirt. Misha stayed behind, preferring not to show himself to the other men.

In front of Devil, Dakota, Sam and Trey were mounted, and a fourth man leaned against a boulder. The fourth man's head was wound with a stark white bandage.

"Jacob?" Devil asked.

The man nodded. "Devil Blackmoor."

"You've found proof?"

Once again Jacob nodded. "A senator, a colleague of Stevens', came forward." Jacob's smile was grim. "Told us enough to put Stevens away for life."

Devil understood the subtlety behind Jacob's words. "I take it the man wasn't excited about telling the truth."

"He needed a bit of pressure."

"Our witness as well as Stevens has been dishonest for years," Sam said. He pushed back his hat.

"Emma didn't kill her mother,'' Dakota's voice was quiet, his dark eyes pensive. "I'm getting her out of the house now." Dakota turned to leave.

"Wait!" Sam's command held Dakota back.

"For what?" Dakota's voice, pencil thin and threatening, stopped Devil cold.

"For the sheriff to arrest him. We don't want him to fly now."

"Not when we're so close to putting the two of them away for life." Jacob touched the bandage on his head, pausing as if distracted. When he looked back to Devil, he offered an answer to Devil's question. "Lawrence Stevens killed her, and the madam helped," Jacob said. "He poisoned our mother slowly, day by day, until she didn't have the strength or the will to live.

"Emma would be free right now except for the fact that Stevens has her in the bordello. He's killed once, and as long as he has nothing to lose, we're afraid for Emma's life. Until we can get her out of there safely, he can't know what's going on."

Dakota dismounted, and the tension in the set of his jaw and the lines of anguish in his face disturbed Devil. This was a tricky situation. A hotheaded husband would accomplish nothing.

As if guessing Devil's concern, Sam spoke up. "The auction goes forward as planned."

"Dakota has already placed a silent bid. In disguise he's been to see her," Jacob said. "If the bid isn't enough, we're prepared to go as high as necessary. If he pays enough for her, he can walk out of the bordello with Emma on his arm then we can storm the place."

"Did Emma recognize Dakota?" Devil dismounted.

"She knew him."

"Perhaps that has its own merits. She'll understand we'll be there for her."

"Perhaps."

"And pigs fly." Dakota's heated reply made Devil jerk around. "She thought I betrayed her."

Once again Jacob touched the bandage, choosing to ignore Dakota's outburst. "Tonight at the auction Sam will be at the bordello, as well as Trey. She'll be protected. The sheriff will have his men there, and the Pinkertons will infiltrate the house. Nothing will go wrong."

Another hour passed while they went over the plans. Devil was to stay inside the bordello and watch Emma. If anything happened upstairs, Devil would step in to help. He would make sure the auction proceeded as planned, and that the proof against Stevens and leBon would be damming. Emma would have to be at the auction no matter what.

Devil watched the men ride away. He prayed nothing bad would happen, but he didn't trust Lawrence Stevens. Devil guided Jabbar back to town, his thoughts on the night's work.

"Misha?"