“I can’t. He’s no longer living in Chicago. He returned to Colorado Territory.”
“Write to him and request his help, at least monetarily. Many men are willing to give some assistance in order to keep the matter quiet.” It was unfortunate but true. Some men could be coerced into doing their duty.
“I’ve written to him already, but he hasn’t responded.”
Catherine bit back a retort, wishing the man was present and that she could give him the lecture he deserved, but at the moment, she was wasting precious time discussing him. Dark crimson was still pooling against the newsprint, and it was becoming all too clear she needed an extra pair of hands to hold Kit in place if she had any hope of succeeding in the manual compression.
The prostitute who’d sent the errand boy to fetch her roomed across the hallway. Catherine had no choice now but to seek her out and wake her up.
“I’ll be right back.” Catherine crossed to the door and exited before Kit could object. As she stepped into the dank hallway, the light from the window at the far end spilled inside and illuminated a scene that made her blood run cold.
A well-dressed, bald-headed man with a paunch held a gun to another man’s chest, a half-naked man who looked as though he’d just been dragged from the bed in the room behind him.
She didn’t have to see the bald-headed man’s face to know who he was. She’d been at enough political events and parties to recognize him. Rocky Rogers Kenna, alderman of the Nineteenth Precinct in the First Ward.
She also recognized the half-naked man. His long neck and equally long arms had earned him the nickname Stretch in political circles, as had his penchant for stretching the truth. He led the charge of sullying the reputations of the aldermen who refused to join in corrupt policies, including her own father’s, fabricating lies upon lies. Of course, most God-fearing people disregarded everything Stretch said. But still, he was a dangerous man to oppose.
Before she could make sense of what was going on, a gunshot echoed in the hallway, and Stretch stumbled against the wall. As he slid down, blood smeared a trail, the red a stark contrast to the light floral wallpaper. When he landed on the floor, he collapsed into an unmoving heap.
Rocky kicked Stretch, sending him sprawling into the open doorway, revealing a bullet hole directly at his heart. His body flopped, his arms and legs at odd angles.
He was dead. Rocky had killed Stretch.
Catherine sucked in a sharp breath.
Rocky pivoted and in the next instant was pointing his gun at her.
Too late, she cupped a hand over her mouth, her attention riveted to the barrel aimed at her. For long, tense moments, she cringed and waited for another blast and the pain of a bullet hitting her, perhaps ending her life.
As he lowered his gun, she still didn’t allow herself to breathe. She wanted to escape back into the room behind her, but she was too paralyzed to move. She’d just witnessed a murder. Heaven help her. While she’d encountered a great deal of immorality and wickedness when answering God’s call to aid the less fortunate, she’d never observed one man taking another’s life.
Surely this didn’t bode well for her. . . .
Maybe Rocky wouldn’t care that she was there. Maybe he was corrupt enough he’d let her go on her way. Maybe he would assume she was one of the women who lived in the brothel and not bother with her.
One of the women? Catherine almost laughed at the outlandish supposition. Her evening dress wasn’t anything like the revealing attire of the prostitutes. Hers was fashionable, with a long basque bodice that combined with her overskirt to create a layered look. She rarely used hoops since they were too cumbersome, and she hadn’t yet taken to the large bustles at the back of the waist that were becoming fashionable. Her dark hair wasn’t lavishly styled but instead pulled up into a simple knot. She wore no makeup. In fact, she guessed she appeared rumpled and harried, hardly a seductress.
“You’re Paul Remington’s daughter.” Rocky’s words echoed in the hallway, more of an accusation than a question.
No, apparently she wouldn’t be able to slink away in oblivion. Even as she fought to find an excuse or ruse, she inwardly chastised herself for being a coward and considering running away from the scene of a crime. She couldn’t, not when a murder had occurred, and the man who committed it needed to be brought to justice.
She straightened her shoulders. At five foot four, she needed every inch her petite frame could give her. “Yes, I’m Catherine Remington.”
“What’s a fine lady like you doing in this establishment at this time of day?” His words were hard and biting, almost as if she’d imposed upon him with her presence.
“As a matter of fact, I’ve been here all night assisting one of the young women during her time of travail.”
He cocked his head, his brows lifting.
“I’m a midwife. I’ve been here delivering a baby.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you stepped into the hallway when you did, isn’t it, boys?” Rocky directed his question toward two men standing just inside the open doorway above the dead body. They stepped over Stretch until they were both positioned behind Rocky, arms crossed and staring at her.
She’d noticed the men with Rocky on occasion. Perhaps they served as his guards or his servants. Either way, she wouldn’t let them intimidate her.
“Young lady,” Rocky said, “I’ll need you to testify to the police and the judge on my behalf, let them know Stretch came after me and that I was left with no choice but to shoot him or lose my life.”
Had Stretch provoked him? She glanced at Stretch’s crumpled body. There wasn’t a weapon in sight. Blood poured out of the open wound in his bare chest, forming a dark puddle on the floor. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kenna, but I can’t testify to that end—”
“Sure you can. You were right here.” He straightened his suit coat as though his business was finished. “You saw everything just the way I said.”
He wanted her to lie for him? So he could get away with murder? Well, if he didn’t already know, he was about to learn that she was a woman with as much integrity as her father. “No, actually, I didn’t see Stretch do anything to harm you.”
Rocky started down the hallway toward her, and his men followed on his heels. Their footsteps tapped a dangerous rhythm. If he could kill Stretch, what would stop him from killing her?
Chapter
2
Catherine wove her fingers together to keep them from trembling. And she lifted her chin, as if that could somehow ward off any threat Rocky Rogers Kenna might pose. But the fact was, she was completely at his mercy with no means to defend herself.
He didn’t halt until he was inches away. His eyes had grown darker at his approach, as though they were bottomless holes that led to his black soul.
If she were a betting woman, she’d guess he wouldn’t actually end her life. Not after already having the hassle of one murder to explain away. Even so, she had to find a way to escape.
“Miss Remington.” He sugarcoated her name. “I have no doubt you’re an upstanding young woman. Everyone will believe you when you testify to my innocence in this unfortunate matter.”
“I’ll testify to the truth, Mr. Kenna.”