Silver Lies (60 page)

we’d better assume they unlocked your trunk as well." Llewellyn collapsed in a chair, staring at Inez. Cat’s voice turned brisk. "She left her sidearm at the door,

of course. What else might she carry, Useless?"

Useless rolled Inez onto her back. Inez could now see Cat and Llewellyn to one side, Angel to the other. Useless hovered above her.

"She carries a pocket pistol." Cat gestured impatiently with her fan. Useless located the gun and handed it to Cat, who

inspected it before setting it on the fireplace mantel. "Any

thing else? Knives or what-not?" "She don’t use a knife." Inez kept her eyes steady on Cat and tried to breathe as

normally as possible around the stinking kerchief. Cat tapped her lips with the fan, eyes narrowed in thought. "Search her. We’ll leave nothing to chance. Nothing."

Grumbling, Useless patted Inez’s shirt sleeves and worked his way down her waistcoat. He extracted the bankroll from her waistcoat pocket and handed it to Cat.

Cat flattened the money on her lap. "Fifties and twenties."

She passed the bills to Llewellyn, who examined them.

His breath erupted in an exclamation. "These are ours! Even the twenties, and I only did a sample run of them. Denver never got the samples or the plates from Rose." He gazed at Inez, eyes wide and dark. "
You
have them. Where are my plates, Mrs. Stannert?"

Cat waved his words away impatiently. "The plates, the counterfeit, it’s all small potatoes. It means she must also have…" Cat leaned forward and said, deadly soft, "The map. Where is it, Mrs. Stannert?"

Inez blinked twice in what she hoped passed for surprise.

"Ask her about the plates!" squawked Llewellyn. "They took me a year to make. They’re flawless. Denver was ready to pay us a thousand apiece for them."

Cat laid a soothing hand on Llewellyn’s shoulder. "When the map and title to the Lady Luck are mine, you’ll never need to engrave another set of plates or letter another saloon sign. Useless will work the claim, then we’ll sell to Harry or the highest bidder for tens of thousands, as planned. After that, you can paint to your heart’s delight. We’ll travel to Paris, London, visit all the grand salons where your art will be appreciated."

Cat glared at Inez with a look that, if a knife, would have ripped out her heart. "All I need is that goddamned map."

Llewellyn wrung his hands, a gesture more fitting to ruffled sleeves than rough homespun. "Catherine. It’s not so simple now. What about that prospector? The one you made the deal with? He still owns half the claim and won’t reveal the location. And he’s still gallivanting around. Somewhere."

"Chet Donnelly? We won’t need him if we have the map." She talked as if to a child. "Next time Chet visits, I’ll provide a bottle of spirits laced with snuff and—" she snapped her fingers. "He’ll be found stiff and dead in Tiger Alley. Like Joe Rose. And the claim will have one owner. Me."

Her gaze slashed at Inez. "I suppose in all your skulking about you discovered that Joe was our Denver courier. On his last run, he was supposed to deliver the new plates and samples and bring back counterfeit for distribution. His contact was found dead a week later. No plates. No samples. No money." She leaned back in the chair, tapping her knee with the closed fan. "At first, Denver thought it was one of their own. Joe swore he’d given the man the plates and samples. He also insisted that there was no counterfeit in his shipment from the Denver Mine and Smelter Supply Company. Joe lied. He lied about a lot of things. His downfall was, he lied to me."

She turned to Useless. "Take that thing out of her mouth." He did so. "Now, I promise you, Mrs. Stannert, one yell, the gag goes back in, and Useless will lead you to a lingering and painful death. Where’s the map?"

Inez took a deep breath. "Did you kill Joe Rose?"

Cat smiled slow. "Poor Joe. I was riding the same brute of a horse that almost trampled you Christmas Eve. Only Joe didn’t have a fleet-footed minister to pull him to safety."

She shrugged eloquently, white shoulders smooth as satin.

Llewellyn’s eyes were riveted on Cat in horror. "You
killed
Rose?"

Cat patted his hand absently. "An accident, my sweet. I didn’t see him in the dark. The alleys are so treacherous." Her eyes glinted. "Well, Useless, she won’t answer, she only wants to ask questions. Gag her again. Maybe you can convince her it’s much, much better to tell us where the map is."

"But I heard the marshal found Rose’s watch in Jackson’s pocket!" Llewellyn sounded as if he was arguing with himself.

Cat looked at Angel. "Yes…I wondered how Joe’s watch wandered from my home to Emma’s pocket. Seems Angel can walk through locked doors. From Emma’s pockets to Jackson’s merely took a little sleight-of-hand on Useless’ part. Clever, Useless. With that maneuver, you redeemed yourself from that

previous mess." She glowered at Useless, who writhed.

"But, but she caught me in the house!"

"And you had to take your pleasure before leaving her for dead. But not dead enough. Emma Rose," Cat sneered, "acted as if she was above us, when all along she’d turned out in the sisterhood. Joe was such a willing dupe, what with his gambling debts and his wife’s reputation to protect."

Llewellyn buried his face in his hands. "As soon as the storm breaks, I’m leaving, Catherine. You should come too, fortune or no." His voice was muffled. "It’s all closing in. First, Sands destroys my workshop. It’s a good thing Cooke warned me, I barely escaped with that trunk. Now, this. Maybe Mrs. Stannert’s talked to Sands, maybe he knows about us, my love. Sands sneaks around like, like a wolf. Who knows where he’ll turn up next."

"I know where he’ll be in an hour." Cat almost purred.

Llewellyn looked up. "You don’t mean—"

"Oh, I do. He’s coming here. The good man has been yielding to temptation, inch by inch. He’s finally ready to take the plunge and succumb to the sins of the flesh. Not that he’s any stranger to those pleasures, right, Mrs. Stannert?" She smiled sidelong at Inez, then tapped Llewellyn’s clenched fists with her fan. "Don’t be jealous, love. It’s only business. And when I’m done, a little something in the coffee will ensure that he never preaches another sermon." She sighed. "Too bad. At least, I’ll have the last of him."

"Huh. Bet she wishes it were her." Useless made a grab at Inez’s crotch. Furious, she kicked his shin.

Useless jumped back. "Bitch!" That one hate-laden word told Inez all she needed to know about the identity of the killer in the bank.

He raised a hand to strike her.

"Stop!" Cat’s voice froze him to the spot. "She’s bleeding all over my rug as it is. Save it for later, Useless."

She snapped her fan open and lazily moved it back and forth. "So, my love, we’ll hide you in Angel’s room until after the reverend’s visit."

"He’s coming here? To your home?" Llewellyn sounded affronted.

"We must be discreet with the clergy. Now, what should we do about this." She indicated the immobile women. "My love, your workshop’s destroyed?"

"Completely." He sounded miserable.

"Well, then, they won’t be back." She turned to Useless. "Get the wagon and take these two to the workshop. Kill them. But not a mark on Angel. Do you understand? Not one." Useless looked disappointed.

"However," she added in an off-hand way, "do whatever you want with Mrs. Stannert."

Useless’ gaze melted on Inez. "Whatever I want." He licked his lips. Inez felt the sweat of terror slick the palms of her trapped hands.

Cat continued. "Remember, we want the map or the location of the claim. If she tells you, be a gentleman and kill her quick. Then get rid of the body. Toss it down a mine shaft, I don’t care. Just be sure when you’re done that no one—and I mean
no
one—will ever be able to identify her.

Llewellyn interjected, "Is this necessary?"

"Let me decide what’s necessary and what isn’t." Her fan tapped his chest. "A sensitive artist shouldn’t worry about such ugly doings."

"If I’m not supposed to touch Angel, how do I kill her?" Useless sounded grumpy, as if ordered to clean out the livery stalls with his hands.

"Get the wagon. I’ll tell you when you return."

Llewellyn addressed Cat after Useless left. "He’s worse than useless, he’s crazy! You can’t let him do this. We’ve got to get rid of him."

She turned on him. "Who will stake and work the claim? Who will take care of these—" she nudged Inez with her shoe, "problems? You?"

Llewellyn shrank back in his chair.

"All men have weaknesses, my love. For a finely turned ankle perhaps, or red hair." Cat touched her hennaed locks. "Others, like Useless, have darker cravings. I keep him on a short leash with my girls, but with Mrs. Stannert, I’m going to let it slip. He’ll lick my hand in gratitude. I know the men who come here in the evenings. During the day, they turn their eyes away, but I know each of them down to their boot soles. And their secrets. When I have the Lady Luck, they’ll have no choice but to see me in the daylight at last."

With a determined rustle of silk, she rose and left the room.

Llewellyn looked mournfully at Inez. "My poor Catherine. Do you know her deepest sin? It’s the same one that your poet assigns to his Prince of Darkness. You told me once." He leaned forward. "The sin of injured pride. She wants to be loved for herself. To be given proper due for the magnificent creature she is. My love and admiration apparently aren’t enough."

He sat back, weary. "I’m sorry it’s come to this, Mrs. Stannert. I enjoyed working on your painting. What a pity it’ll never be finished."

Cat reappeared with a paper and a brown bottle. "Angel’s room is on the second floor by the backstairs. Be careful crossing the alley."

She watched him depart, then glared at Inez, bitterness drawing hard lines around her mouth. "I want to leave you with one last thought about your husband. The oh-so handsome, oh-so charming Mark Stannert." She knelt by Inez, pulling her skirts aside from the blood-soaked carpet. "Last May, when he and I signed the contract to buy your saloon, he swore you and Jackson would go along. He took eight hundred dollars in partial payment and promised to return with your signatures by morning. I never thought he’d skip town, leaving a wife and child."

She smoothed the paper in her lap. "Llewellyn couldn’t stand to see me so cruelly treated. He drew up new papers, Useless found receipts with your signatures, and…" She held up a forged contract for Inez to see.

"Your husband is gone, you’ll be dead by morning, and Abe’s as good as." She spoke as if ticking off a guest list. "When the hullabaloo dies down, all I’ll need is a little help from our friendly bank manager and your saloon is mine. Your husband." She arched her eyebrows meaningfully. "He certainly knew how to distract a woman from all good sense, didn’t he?"