Wilder Than the Rest: MacLarens of Fire Mountain (20 page)

“Drew! What a surprise.” Pierce held out his hand then pulled his cousin into a hug before stepping aside to let him enter. “When did you arrive?”

“Last night. I spent most of today with Louis, reviewing his plans to purchase more property and some other transactions. The man’s mind never rests,” Drew joked as he looked around the opulent entry and into the parlor. “This really is quite a place.”

“Yeah. It is an amazing house. Never thought I’d have the opportunity to stay in a place like this. For all its beauty, I much prefer the ranch. Come on.” Pierce led Drew into the library and poured them each a drink.

“You look like you were on your way somewhere.” Drew sipped at his drink and leaned against the desk as Pierce lowered himself into a large leather chair.

“No place in particular, just needed to get away. Thought I’d head down to the docks, get lost in one of the saloons, maybe play some cards, and grab some supper.” He shrugged.

“Sounds good to me. The last thing I want is to get back to the hotel and find an invitation from Louis to one of his many business suppers. Your idea sounds much better.”

A few hours later the two men sat at a table in one of the many saloons in the Barbary Coast area of San Francisco, watching one of the floor shows after finishing supper. They’d decided to hold off on cards until later.

“How long before you head home?” Pierce asked over the sound of a piano and women’s voices coming from the stage.

“Two weeks at the most. I’m certain Tess will be fine, especially surrounded by all the other MacLaren women, but it’s our first and I don’t plan to be away when the baby comes. Dunnigan agrees. I think that may be why he moved up the timing for his purchases. What about you?”

“I don’t know. Could be a few weeks or more.” Pierce held up his glass and toasted a pretty brunette who sashayed by their table, then turned his attention back to Drew. “One thing is certain, this will be my last case.”

“Not quite what you thought?”

“Guess not.” Pierce rolled the shot glass between his fingers, thinking about the last few weeks. “Too much sitting around and waiting.”

“And Mollie?”

Pierce’s head snapped toward Drew. “What about her?”

Drew chuckled. “The last time we spoke, you couldn’t wait to get away from her, didn’t want to be partnered with her on this job. Has that changed?”

Pierce thought about it, knowing the answer he’d give today was different from what he’d said a couple of months ago. “It’s going all right.”

Drew was perceptive. It was one of the traits that made him a good negotiator for both Louis Dunnigan and the ranch. Something had changed between Pierce and Mollie, he just didn’t know what.

“You bringing her back to the ranch?”

Pierce glanced at his cousin, the edges of his mouth curving up in a slight smile. “Hope to.”

“Good, Pierce.” Drew slapped him on the back. “That’s real good.”

******

An hour later, they stood at the bar of another saloon, talking in low tones and making plans for Drew to come for supper, maybe move out of the hotel and into the mansion while in town.

Although in the same district as the other saloons they’d visited, this one was on the edges of the red-light district, near the more respectable middle-class neighborhoods that surrounded the seedier sections of the docks.

Both turned to look over their shoulders when shouts erupted from one of the tables. Five men played cards, another stood, waving his hands and cursing. From behind him, a tall, dark-haired man walked up and clasped a hand to the man’s shoulder.

“Sit down, Jim. Looks to be a friendly game, you’re just having a run of bad luck.”

Jim took in the man who’d spoken, and nodded. “Yeah, Colin, guess I just got a little hotheaded.” He took a seat and resumed play.

Drew and Pierce watched as the one called Colin ambled up to the bar along with two others who looked enough like him to be brothers. The three took places next to Pierce.

“Three whiskeys,” he ordered before nodding at Pierce and Drew then turning his attention to the two men who’d walked in with him.

“Here you go, Colin,” the bartender said as he placed the drinks down. “Quinn, Brodie, good to see you. Didn’t expect you’d be back for a while.”

“Didn’t expect to be back either. Got a few things we need to take care of that can’t wait.”

The brief conversation ended when Colin picked up his glass and tossed back the tawny liquid, letting it wash down the dust from their ride to the city.

Pierce and Drew went back to their conversation, forgetting the men next to them. The saloon settled into a quite cadence of soft discussions, cards being shuffled and dealt, and drinks being poured. It was late, near midnight, when the door burst open and a rough-looking, burly man, of average height, with a thick, unruly beard pushed his way past several tables and came to a stop.

“MacLaren!” he yelled.

In unison, five heads turned from the bar to look at the man who must have weighed close to three hundred pounds. No one spoke.

“You and me, Quinn. We need to talk.”

One of the men pushed away from the bar to face the man. “Not tonight, Edison,” Quinn replied, his voice calm, reasonable. “It’s late and I aim to get some sleep.”

“Now, Quinn. This can’t wait.”

The other two men on either side of Quinn turned to stand alongside their companion.

“Nothing’s going to be finalized tonight, Edison. Get some sleep, we’ll talk first thing tomorrow,” Colin replied and turned back toward the bar.

“Dammit, MacLaren, this needs to be settled now.” Edison wasn’t backing down.

Drew and Pierce watched the exchange, stunned to hear the name Edison had thrown out.

“Pierce, you know of any MacLarens up this way?” Drew asked.

“Hell, I’m not aware of any MacLarens, except in Fire Mountain. But damn if the one doesn’t look just like my father.”

Drew watched as Edison lifted his right hand and settled it on the butt of his gun. “Ah hell,” he murmured and stepped forward.

“Look, Edison, I don’t know anything about you, but you’re beginning to get on my nerves and my cousin’s.” He nodded toward Pierce. Edison flashed a stunned expression toward Drew, but didn’t respond. “These gentlemen have made a good suggestion. Why don’t you take them up on it?”

Edison’s jaw worked a few times before he spoke. “This conversation’s got nothing to do with you, mister. It’s between me and the MacLarens. I suggest you stay out of it.”

Drew sighed. “You may be right. But know if you push this any further, you’ll be up against five MacLarens, not three.”

The three men at the bar—Colin, Quinn, and Brodie—turned their full attention on Drew, their eyes narrowing as they absorbed his words.

Pierce faced the man, his face as firm as Drew’s. “Believe me, those are odds I wouldn’t want to face.”

Edison let his right hand drop to his side and backed up a step. “Who the hell are you?” He aimed his question to Drew.

“Drew MacLaren. This is my cousin, Pierce. Now, I don’t rightly know these three gentlemen,” he nodded toward Colin, Quinn, and Brodie, “but if they’re anything like the rest of the MacLarens, you’ll be in a world of hurt if you keep pushing this issue. Go home, Edison. Save it for tomorrow.”

Everyone watched as Edison let Drew’s words sink in then backed up. “Tomorrow, this gets settled,” he yelled as he stomped out the door.

No one in the saloon moved, including the five MacLarens.

A tense moment passed before Colin walked up to stand in front of Drew and Pierce. “This wasn’t your business, mister,” he directed at Drew.

“Probably not.” Drew reached toward the bar and picked up his whiskey.

“Could’ve gotten yourself killed,” Colin tried again.

“Doubtful,” Drew drawled. “Anyway, the man’s gone. Now, Pierce and I can get back to our conversation.” He didn’t take his eyes off the tall, broad-shouldered man who stood before him. The dark, wavy auburn hair and moss green eyes were eerily familiar.

Pierce noticed the other two MacLarens move in front of him and stop.

“Where you boys from?” the one called Quinn asked.

“Fire Mountain, Arizona,” Pierce responded. “You?”

“About twenty miles east of here in Settlers Valley.”

Pierce stuck out his hand. “Pierce MacLaren. This is my cousin, Drew.”

“What do you say we get a table and talk?” Brodie suggested and led the way.

******

Three hours later, the five men had sorted through the family history to learn they were closely related and had come to America within a short time of each other.

Although each of their paths had been unique, the MacLarens in California held ranchlands to rival those in Fire Mountain.

“When do you head back to Settlers Valley?” Pierce asked as they stood to leave.

“Not sure. A week, two at the most,” Colin responded. “We’re staying at The Palace Hotel. We expect to see you before we leave.” He smiled for the first time that night.

Drew and Pierce watched the three cousins mount their horses for the ride to The Palace, looking forward to seeing them again.

******

Two nights later, Pierce, Mollie, and Chaz quietly approached the dockside location of Grayson & Flannigan. Chaz split off to locate the guards while Pierce and Mollie watched from a distance, confirming they had a clear path to the office.

They stayed low, moving from one building to the next, avoiding one guard before reaching the front entrance to the office. There were no lights, only those visible from the nearby ships that were docked and waiting to load or unload. Pierce reached up and turned the knob. Locked. He pulled out his tool pouch, opening the door within seconds and slipping in, Mollie close behind.

They checked the front desks, and finding nothing of interest, moved to the back office. Pierce started with the unlocked desk while Mollie searched the file cabinet. Although the desk held numerous files, it failed to provide anything that would point to Captain Flannigan being involved in anything of interest to their investigation.

Mollie rifled through one file cabinet then moved to the second, finding nothing in either one. Her eyes lit on the two chests next to her. She tried to open one, then the other, and found both locked.

“Pierce, I need you to open these.” She nodded to the two chests.

He used his tools to open one and nodded for Mollie to start with it. Pierce took the second chest. His was full of clothing, a couple of old blankets, and some rolled up maps. He’d just closed the lid when he heard Mollie gasp. She’d moved from the chest, which held little, to the bookshelf.

“I may have found something.” She held up a large bound book. As she thumbed through the pages, a stack of papers fell to the ground.

Pierce snatched them up and began to read.

“What is it?” Mollie stood at his side, looking over Pierce’s shoulder.

“It’s not what we expected to find.” He continued to read then looked at Mollie. “Seems Jock suspects Georgiana of being involved with some others in illegal activities that could impact Grayson & Flannigan. He mentions Thomas and Virginia Traxton as possible partners with Georgiana. There are some other names I don’t recognize. Jock believes there is someone else involved, a man from the East Coast. He doesn’t list a name.” He glanced up at Mollie. “I wonder if this ties in at all with the person Chaz mentioned.”

“Does he say what it is he suspects?”

“No. Only that he is trying to find out what she’s doing and protect himself and the company.”

“Anything about the mayor or his wife?”

“Nothing.” Pierce grabbed a piece of paper and pencil from the desk, jotting down names and dates.

“It appears we may need to focus on your lady friend, Georgiana Grayson.” Mollie smirked as she walked to the window and peered out. “We’d better leave.”

Pierce ignored her comment and slid the book back onto the shelf just as gunshots sounded outside. “Get down,” he hissed and pulled his forty-five from its holster before moving to the back door.

Another gunshot rang out. He looked behind him to see Mollie holding her gun while trying to look through the dirty glass to the outside.

“I can see a large man with a rifle crouching near one of the warehouses. He’s sighting on something, but I can’t see what.”

“Any sign of Chaz?”

“No.” She continued to watch while Pierce pushed the back door open and peered out.

“I need to find him—” Pierce began before a noise from the front office stopped him. They turned and aimed their guns in that direction.

Chaz pushed open the door then stopped and held up his hands. “Don’t shoot.”

Pierce and Mollie lowered their guns as Chaz shut the door and crouched beside the desk. “I only saw two guards. Both are tied up under the docks behind the main warehouse. The third must have shown up after you two got inside. We need to leave, now.” He dashed toward the office door. “Out the front is best.”

Mollie and Pierce followed, staying low, guns drawn. They slipped through the front door and plastered their bodies to the side of the building. Chaz looked around a corner, and seeing no one, broke for the unlocked gate and the street beyond. Pierce and Mollie were close when shouting came from the office.