“Works for me.” Clem nodded. “How do you plan to go about stopping him?”
Tom rested his hands on the counter, bowing his head. Hitting things wouldn’t get them anywhere. Besides, it hurt. “It’s not Dempsey. It can’t be.”
“Okay, I’ll bite. Why isn’t it Dempsey?” Nando leaned against the doorway, watching him. “Chief’s heading back into town, by the way. And he’ll be calling the sheriff and the Feds, in that order. Kidnapping goes to the FBI. Plus you can expect the Toleffson family to be showing up on your doorstep within the next few hours.”
Tom closed his eyes. He had a feeling this might be the last chance he’d have to figure out what was going on before everything spun into chaos. “It’s not Dempsey because he’d want more than a million if he decided to do this. He’d lose his job with Brandenburg. He’d have to leave the country. And if he hurt Deirdre…” He paused, drawing in a breath. “If he hurt Deirdre, he’d have a lot of people after him, including me. A million’s not enough to take that kind of heat. Besides, the bastard probably already has a million or so of his own. He used to play for the Cowboys.”
Nando nodded slowly. “Okay. Doesn’t exactly rule him out, but it’s worth talking about. If it’s not Dempsey, who is it?”
“It has to be somebody who knows who Deirdre is.” Clem folded her arms across her chest, considering. “I mean, most people around here just think of her as Deirdre the barmaid. They don’t even know her last name. And even the ones who know her last name don’t know her daddy’s rich. After all, why would she be working here if she had any money?”
Tom shot her a dry look, but Clem shrugged. He knew she was right, unfortunately. “How famous is her father? If people in town knew her name was Brandenburg and she was related to Docia Toleffson, could they put two and two together?”
“Maybe, but it’s a stretch.” Nando shifted to his other shoulder in the doorway. “I mean Brandenburg’s a famous name in Texas because they had part of the OK Ranch out west, that big spread on the Goodnight-Loving Trail. But just because her name was Brandenburg, that wouldn’t mean she was part of the famous Brandenburgs. And Docia Toleffson was Docia Kent before she got married, not Docia Brandenburg. Not many people would know Deirdre came from money just from the name alone.”
“So who could figure it out?” Clem mused. “Maybe somebody who knew Texas history.”
“Somebody could have figured she’d have to have money to be able to open her shop,” Nando said. “Maybe somebody she talked to, ordered stuff from. Maybe she told them she’d get money from her father.”
Tom shook his head. “No. She’s made a point of not getting money from her father, and not saying she was going to. She didn’t want anyone to know about him since he walked out of her life. Besides, her biggest investment has been in the shop, and I’m her landlord.”
“What about the paint? Cleaning supplies, stuff like that.”
“I paid for that. She’s improving my property.”
“She was going to buy a coffee roaster,” Clem cut in. “Those things aren’t cheap.”
“That wouldn’t be from around here,” Nando said. “She’d have to order it from someplace like Austin, and people from outside Konigsburg probably wouldn’t know what the situation was here—that she was working as a barmaid at the Faro.”
“Besides, I don’t think she’s ordered it yet. She hasn’t bought much of anything.” Tom felt a prickle at the back of his neck like a small electric shock. “Except…” His hands tightened into fists, almost involuntarily.
“Except?” Nando prompted.
“Except for three café tables and some chairs from that maniac asshole Milam Broadus.”
Nando straightened slowly, so did Clem. “Broadus would know all about the Brandenburgs. The SOB acts like he’s got Texas history tattooed on his eyelids.”
“But would he know Deirdre is one of those Brandenburgs?” Clem shook her head. “I mean, it’s not obvious.”
“He might know she was Docia’s cousin. Deirdre’s used her name as a reference sometimes. Since he’s such a fanatic about Texas for Texans, he might know the family trees of people in Konigsburg. All the Texans, that is. Those of us from Outside don’t count.” Tom’s chest was suddenly so tight he had trouble drawing in a breath. He figured that pressure would ease when he had his hands around Broadus’s throat.
“Okay, hold it.” Nando squared his shoulders, suddenly looking a lot more like a cop than he had before. “Maybe it’s Broadus and maybe it’s not. But this is the end of the investigation as far as you’re concerned. From now on it’s up to us. There’ll be more cops on this than ticks on a buck, local and Federal. You need to keep out of it, Ames.”
Tom stared at him, his hands flexing.
“I’m serious. Let us handle this. If you go after Broadus, I swear I’ll pick you up and throw you in a cell.”
Tom took a breath, forcing his lungs to open. “You’re going over to Broadus’s place now?”
“Yeah, I’m going over to Broadus’s place now. And I’ll call the chief and tell him what’s up. Stay here, Ames.”
Clem put her hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Tom. She’ll be all right.”
Tom wished to god he could believe her. He sank down into one of the kitchen chairs. “Okay. You’ll call when you find him?”
“I’ll call.” Nando jerked his phone from his belt as he headed for the front door. He was moving quickly, but not as quickly as Tom would have liked.
“Milam Broadus,” he growled as soon as Nando had gone, “is a dead man.”
Clem nodded. “One way or another. Of course, Deirdre may kill him before you can get there.”
Deirdre wasn’t sure how a kidnapping was supposed to proceed, but she was pretty sure Broadus’s way wasn’t standard. For one thing, he hadn’t tied her up or blindfolded her. Not that she wasn’t grateful, but that might not bode particularly well for her future if Seifert had anything to say about it.
On the other hand, Broadus didn’t seem to be considering things like ending up in prison for the rest of his life with her as the star witness against him. Maybe he was counting on Stockholm Syndrome to make her a willing accomplice.
Fat chance.
He followed Seifert into the room after sunrise when he brought her a tray with a bowl of Rice Krispies and a glass of orange juice that she suspected was actually Tang. “I apologize for taking you hostage, Miss Brandenburg. It was necessary.”
“Hostage?” Deirdre took a bite of Rice Krispies. The milk tasted like nothing she’d ever had before. She managed not to choke.
“The thing is, we’ve had a hard time spreading the word. If real Texans knew about the Texas Secession Initiative, we’d be swamped with recruits. But the Lamestream Media won’t get the news out if it hasn’t been approved by the usurpers in Austin and Washington. Once we have the money from your father, we can get our manifesto published without their censorship. In fact, that’s part of the delivery instructions—our manifesto goes on the front page of the
Dallas Morning News
.”
Deirdre licked her lips. “So you kidnapped me for publicity?”
Broadus frowned. “We took you hostage to make sure our message gets out. That’s not ‘publicity’. That’s a public service.”
“But aren’t you also asking my father for money?” Deirdre gave him her most guileless look, the one that usually worked on accountants whose figures were suspect.
“We need money. Your father can give it to us. Your friend told me so. And after he understands our cause, could be he’ll join us too. The Brandenburgs have a big part in Texas history. Now’s the time for Texas patriots to join together.”
Deirdre thought of all the Federal contracts currently being run by Brandenburg, Inc. She really doubted her father would be interested in seceding from the United States. But Broadus had said something interesting. “What friend of mine did you speak to?”
Broadus shrugged. “Don’t know his name. Big fella. Well dressed. Looked like a football player. Saw you and Ames together and said your father would put a stop to that. You know who I mean?”
Okay, Craig Dempsey was definitely going to be suffering grievous bodily injuries if Deirdre had anything to say about it. “That’s my friend from Dallas. He once played for the Cowboys. He might be someone you could recruit to your cause.” She fluttered her eyelashes at Broadus, then glanced at Seifert.
Oops
.
Seifert clearly wasn’t up for being charmed. His beefy arms were folded across his considerable belly and he regarded her through narrowed eyes. “She oughta have a blindfold, at least,” he snarled. “So she can’t say it’s us. And you oughta tie her to that chair so she can’t get loose.”
Broadus’s mouth became a thin line. “Seifert, we’re citizens of the Republic of Texas. We treat ladies with respect. We don’t need a blindfold or ropes.” He turned back to Deirdre. “Will you give me your word of honor not to abuse my hospitality?”
“Of course.” She gave him a tiny smile, wishing she could cross her fingers behind her back. “Word of honor.”
Seifert shot her a narrow look. “You believe in secession, Missy? You on our side?”
“Oh, I’m not political at all,” she said quickly. She pushed the abominable cereal away and sipped the Tang.
“A true lady lets her menfolk do the heavy thinking,” Broadus agreed. “Although I’ll give you some of our literature. You can read it over, and then I can explain all the things you don’t understand.”
Deirdre nodded. “Yes, thank you—that probably would be the best way to do it.”
“Still seems like she oughta be blindfolded,” Seifert muttered. “And tied up.”
“Seifert, I’ve told you. We do not tie up ladies.”
Seifert muttered something that sounded like “work in a bar”.
Broadus scowled at him. “What was that?”
“I said I don’t know no ladies that work in a bar. ’Specially not a bar like the Faro. What kind of lady serves beer to drunks?”
Broadus turned toward her, raising an eyebrow. “He’s got a point, Miss Brandenburg. What were you doing there?”
Think fast, Deirdre!
“My father wanted me to experience…real life. Before I settled down and got married, that is. So I’d learn to appreciate money. And the working man. And how tough it can be to make a living. Before the government takes it all away in taxes.” She knew she was babbling, but she was trying to find the right buzzwords. For a moment a totally incongruous picture of Tom floated through her mind, naked from the waist up, pale golden hair glowing in the lamp light. A working man, who’d had a tough life.
And now these morons are making it tougher.
Broadus frowned. “Well, it’s a good thing your father was trying to teach you about freedom and true Americans, but why did he want you to work in a bar?”
Deirdre shook her head quickly. “Oh he didn’t choose my job. I chose it myself. I guess I was a little…naïve. I thought it was like being a waitress.”
Broadus gave her an indulgent smile that made her skin crawl. “Well then your daddy shouldn’t have let you go to Konigsburg by yourself. He should have come down and helped you find a job in the right kind of place. You could have worked for us, for example. We know how to treat ladies.”
Deirdre blew out a breath. “Yes. That might have been better all around.” She put her glass back on the tray.
Seifert picked the tray up again, watching her with cold gray eyes. “So we’re just gonna leave her here? Like this?”
Broadus shrugged. “Yes we are. I’m going to lock the door, Miss Brandenburg. And you’re on the second floor with quite a drop to the ground. I wouldn’t try going out the window if I was you. Probably break a leg if you do. And then I’d have to tie you up, like Seifert says.” He gave her another indulgent smile.
Deirdre suddenly felt like kicking him. She wondered how much damage her sneakers could do. If only she were wearing the high heels she wore when she worked at Brandenburg, Inc.
Broadus nodded toward the door, and his minion carried the tray outside. He paused in the doorway, still smiling. “You take care now, Miss Brandenburg. I’ll bring you those leaflets in a little while.”
“Yes, you do that,” Deirdre said between her teeth. She listened to the sound of the key turning in the door. There was no latch on the inside. At least Broadus had managed to think ahead that far.
She walked to the window, noting the chamber pot under the bed and the pitcher and basin on the dresser. All the comforts of the nineteenth century home. Unfortunately, it looked like Broadus was being accurate. The ground was a good twenty feet away and the bed had only a single thin wool blanket—not nearly enough for an effective escape ladder.
She gritted her teeth, folding her arms across her chest. At least in a battle of wits, she clearly had the edge over those two doofuses. Now if she could only figure out how to use it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Waiting for Nando’s call made Tom’s shoulders itch. He sent Clem home, over her protests, then sat alone at the bar, nursing a bottle of Shiner. It occurred to him that he’d been doing exactly the same thing the night before, only he’d also been watching Deirdre sweep up glass. And then, like a moron, he’d refused to stay with her.
He wanted a do-over. Hell, he wanted a do-over for the whole week.
Ham Linklatter, the dumbest of the Konigsburg cops, arrived at some point to examine the yard. He took away several plastic evidence bags full of stuff Tom was reasonably sure had nothing to do with Deirdre or her kidnapper.
He stepped outside to watch the sun inch up over the horizon, casting Main in pale light. Then he went back to his seat and dozed for maybe an hour, before giving up and dialing Nando’s number.
“What?” he snapped after five rings.
“Did you find her?”
“No. Broadus’s store is locked up tight. No sign of anybody around.”
“What about his house?”
“He lives over his store. Nobody’s home.”
“But…”
“Look, Broadus is still up there on the suspect list. So is Dempsey. We’re also checking for outsiders, maybe from Houston. Anybody suspicious. The Feds are trying to locate her father. If anything else happens, I’ll let you know.”
The sound of the disconnect in his ear was like a pistol shot. Tom stared down at the phone, ordering himself not to throw it against the wall. After a short period of deep breathing and extreme obscenities, he headed into the kitchen to see if Clem had any coffee lying around.