To Know Her by Name (47 page)

“Stop!”

Nelson turned, his hand still holding Pup. Pup kept her eyes toward the door so she knew exactly when they were joined by two other men. She didn't have to feign fear as Duncan stepped in front of her. His eyes cold on her face, he reached up and removed the wig.

“Well, well,” he spoke, his voice little more than a whisper, “if it isn't Bryan Daniels.”

Pup's gaze was transformed in a moment. Composed, sure of herself, and even slightly amused, she looked boldly back at Duncan Phipps. Even if she were about to die, there was one comfort: She was not the criminal.

Duncan watched her for a moment and then jerked his head. The door was shut, and the two other men remained inside.

“I want your name, and I want it now.”

Pup hesitated without looking unsure. She wasn't certain if he thought her a man or woman and wanted to figure which gender would be to her best advantage.

“I'm waiting.”

Pup's brows rose. “Considering the fact that the last two names I've given haven't been mine, how could you possibly know I'd be telling the truth?”

She was surprised when an admiring smile covered his mouth.

“Go ahead.” Genuinely amused, he liked anyone who could match wits with him—at least for a time—as long as he eventually gained the upper hand. “Tell me a name anyway.”

“And if I refuse?”

Duncan shrugged. “I guess it doesn't really matter. It's not as if your grave will be marked.”

Pup now shrugged as well, impressing Duncan again because she showed no fear. He studied her some more.

“You're good, but then you probably know that. When I think back on Bryan Daniels, I realize now that if I had really studied you, I'd have known your gender.” He paused and weighed her a little more. “You're very good.”

Pup said nothing. She showed not one flicker of emotion.

“Show our mystery lady to an upstairs room,” Duncan ordered Nelson. “I'm sure she can tell us quite a lot.” He turned back to Pup. “You might not be so reluctant to talk in the future.”

“You've already stated your plans to kill me; why should I talk?”

“I may have spoken rashly.” He was the smoothest she had ever seen him. “Indeed, I think the two of us could get along very well together. I'm sure whomever you work for couldn't possibly match the salary I'd be willing to pay you.”

Pup managed to look bored.

“Take her upstairs.” She hadn't been impressed with his offer, and the frigid tone came back into his voice. “See to it that she doesn't leave us anytime soon.”

Feeling she had nothing to lose, Pup boldly took the wig that still hung from Duncan's fingers and put it back on her head. Again the banker was impressed but tried not to show it. A moment later she was taken away, each of the men at the door holding one of her arms. Escape was impossible. Nelson led them upstairs. He did nothing to disguise his loathing as he opened a bedroom door and watched her walk in. He slammed it a little too loudly, and Pup listened to the turn of the key. This was no time to lose her head, but her knees suddenly turned to water. She sank down on the nearest chair, her mind racing with what she should do next.

Longmont

“Hello, Mr. Stuart,” Happy Conway, the train station manager, greeted the men as they came in. “What's up, McKay?”

“Hello, Happy. Could we use your back room for a few minutes?”

“Sure, help yourself,” he offered, his eyes frankly curious as they went in and shut the door. McKay wasted no time in taking Richard Stuart aside. Trent, his gun already out, dealt with Jubal.

Phipps' man was completely searched and divested of a gun and two knives. Determined not to let Jubal get away or harm anyone, Trent went over him twice, even holding the gun on him while he asked Jubal to remove his shoes. While this was going on, Richard and McKay spoke.

“Does this have to do with your inspection?”

“Yes.”

Richard looked regretful. “When I didn't hear back from you, I thought that things were all clear.”

“I'm afraid not.”

“How did you know that was Jubal Hackett?”

“We know a lot of things.”

The men stared at each other. “I need to search you and the case, sir.”

Richard nodded. It was humiliating, but it could have been on the platform; he had to thank McKay for that small courtesy at least. It didn't take long to find him clean, and after giving the banker a measured look, McKay went to Trent and Jubal. Jubal was now cuffed from behind and sitting on a crate. The two treasury men spoke briefly, and then McKay exited. No one had to tell the apprehended men that he was going for two more train tickets. It was as McKay had said: They were headed to Denver all right, but not the way they'd planned.

Denver

The day was getting long. In fact, Carlyle was headed home very soon. He had a few more papers to clear from his desk and then he would leave. In the midst of deep concentration, a messenger knocked. Carlyle tipped the lad, asked him to stay around outside, and opened the letter. He smiled at the words he read and made a call on the interoffice telephone. Nick answered almost immediately.

“Is Paine with you?”

“No.”

“Now might be a good time to send for him.”

“Give us five minutes.”

Both men hung up and, just as planned, Carlyle knocked on Nick's door five minutes later.

“Come in,” the older man called. “What is it?”

Paine was in the chair in front of the desk, and Nick was in his seat. Carlyle shut the door and approached, reading as he went.

“News from McKay. He's brought Stuart and Hackett back from Longmont. He's waiting at the jail for word from us.”

“Excellent.” Nick held his hand out as if he wanted Carlyle to give him the note, but then he glanced at Paine.

“What is it, Paine? You look ill.”

Nick's chief aide licked his lips.

“McKay has brought in Richard Stuart and Jubal Hackett?”

“Yes. Didn't I tell you that he and Trent Adams were on the job?”

A sick smile crossed Paine's face. “Of course,” he tried to bluff. “I must have forgotten.”

“All right. Well, let's finish this letter,” Nick went on, business as usual. “Here, Paine, read Carlyle what we have.”

But he couldn't do it. He stammered and began to sweat.

“I don't think I feel well, Mr. Wallace,” he finally whispered and stood. “I think I'd better go home.”

“Are you sure there isn't something you want to tell us, Paine?” Carlyle now inserted, and the man really looked at both Nick's and Carlyle's faces.

“You know. You've known all along.” He was growing angry. “You've known all along, and you've played me for a fool!”

“You are a fool,” Nick said without compassion, “to think you could get away with this.”

“You can't pin anything on me!” Paine now said rashly, his face going from white to red. “I don't know anything!”

“You know plenty, Paine, and before this is over you're going to tell all,” Carlyle spoke up, careful to keep his body between Paine and the door.

Paine was shaking his head wildly, and Nick came to his feet. His voice was hard.

“We're going to send Duncan Phipps to jail, Paine; you can help us do it, or you can go with him.”

The younger man looked as if he would panic and run, but the uncompromising look on Nick's face seemed to take all fight out of him. He sank back down into the chair, slumped over, his hand to his head.

Carlyle went back out and gave three messages to the boy who waited. One was to his wife telling her he would be late, another was for Camille Wallace so that she would know not to expect Nick, and the third missive was to McKay Harrington at the jail, telling him the three of them would be with him shortly.

Pup was surprised when dinner was delivered to her. She had expected to be killed, tortured, or starved at the least, but not fed. The meal looked good, but part of her was afraid to touch it. However, it had been hours since she'd had food, and she knew she had to take the chance. There was nothing to fear. It didn't taste odd, and she didn't feel sick or faint, but neither could she eat very much. She was much too tense.

Darkness fell, and since she couldn't get the windows open, the room was warm. Praying all the while for strength and wisdom, she was able to light a lantern and, at one point, she even tested the bed. When a clock down the hall chimed 11 times, she gave up, removed her shoes, and lay down. Less than an hour later she fell into a fitful sleep.

Back at her apartment, Nick's stomach churned and his heart hammered in his chest as it had been doing for hours. Stuart, Hackett, and Paine were all behind bars. So where was Pup? Pup was working at the enemy's mansion, a place she no longer needed to be—but it was too late to tell her. Something had gone wrong, terribly wrong; he could feel it in his bones.

He waited until midnight and then went to Carlyle's, rousing the man from bed. He gave him orders to have undercover men guard the Phipps mansion effective immediately. Carlyle called on some of his best, assuring Nick that they would handle it.

Nick finally headed toward home, his heart still sick with worry. It wasn't just Pup who was on his mind. He knew now that he should have pulled her Sunday night, or even pushed the point with his wife the night before, but he didn't and now it was too late. His heart clenched in agony as he tried to figure out how he could have been so lax. It clenched further when he asked himself how he would ever break the news to Camille.

39

“Well, now,” Duncan's voice was almost congenial as he addressed Pup, “I was hoping you were an early riser. It looks like you had a comfortable night.” His eyes surveyed the room and then focused on Pup.

The captive maid didn't see any point in answering. They had brought her breakfast, and she'd eaten a few bites. The rest sat on the tray near the door. If he was hoping to be thanked, she knew she would disappoint him.