The Killing Look Read online

  “Understood. Hope we can continue to do business together,” Cade said.

  Simonson nodded. “Until then. I’ll see myself out.” He walked off down the hall toward the tradesman’s entrance in the back.

  When he was gone, Samuel looked at Cade without expression. “It takes a big man to accept an apology like that.”

  “Amusin’ as that is,” Cade said, “we should probably stop pickin’ on the little fella. We may need him.”

  Samuel nodded. “Understood.”

  There was a knock at the front door.

  Samuel and Cade looked at one another. “You want me to get that?” Cade said. Before he could answer, Mrs. Hamrick came out of the front parlor and went to the door herself. A sudden apprehension came over Cade, and he strode down the hallway toward the door. “Ma’am,” he called out, “you need to let me…” But she had already opened it. Cade drew his pistol from beneath his coat when he caught a glimpse of the person standing there. “Ma’am,” he said in a tight voice. “You need to step back.”

  Mrs. Hamrick looked back over her shoulder, frowning. “Don’t be silly. It’s just a young girl.”

  “A young Chinese girl,” Cade corrected. “Please, ma’am. Step back.”

  “Oh, for goodness sakes,” Mrs. Hamrick said, but she stepped back.

  The young woman did seem harmless enough. Cade wasn’t good at judging the age of the Chinese, but she looked to be in her mid-teens. She was slender, with a pretty oval face and serious eyes. She was dressed in a plain gray skirt and white blouse. Cade lowered the gun to his side. “Can we help you, Miss?” he asked gruffly.

  The girl bowed. “Excuse me,” she said in a voice only slightly accented. “Is Mr. Hamrick at home?”

  Cade stepped forward and gently moved Mrs. Hamrick aside with his left hand. “And who would like to know?”

  The girl didn’t seem rattled by the gun still in Cade’s hand, but then it was hard to tell. “My name is Mei. I have a message to deliver.”

  Cade tensed. “A message? What kind of message?”

  “It is an invitation. From Mr. Kwan.”

  “And who, may I ask, is Mr. Kwan?”

  “Mr. Kwan,” she said, “is the leader of the Green Dragon Society.”

  “Mr. Cade,” Mrs. Hamrick murmured, “I believe some of the information you seek has come to you.” She just as gently moved Cade from in front of her and gestured to the girl. “Come in, young lady,” she said. “And have a seat in the parlor. I’ll fetch my husband.”

  It was a tense and uncomfortable trio who waited in the parlor. The Chinese girl, Mei, sat rigidly on the edge of one of the luxurious chairs, hands in her lap, staring straight ahead without expression. Cade sat across the room, with Samuel standing guard by the door—for what, neither of them knew, but after the events of the other night, a Chinese in the house, even a young and apparently harmless girl, had them on edge. Cade watched the girl closely, and it was then he noticed that her hands in her lap were trembling. She grabbed one in the other to try to stop the shaking, but it only made it slightly less noticeable. The kid’s terrified, he thought. And she’s just a little bitty thing. What the hell are we so jumpy about? That made him relax a bit, and he looked around the room. He caught sight of Bridget peeking around the corner of the doorjamb. She noticed him looking at her, gave a little squeak of alarm, and pulled back.

  “Bridget,” Cade called out. There was no response. “Mr. Clayborne,” Cade said, “would you be so kind as to fetch Miz Bridget back in here?” Samuel nodded and walked out. Cade turned his attention to the girl. “Miss,” he said, “would you care for some refreshment while we wait? Some tea, maybe?”

  For the first time, the girl showed some expression as she blinked in surprise. “Tea?”

  “Sure.” He put on a teasing smile. “Unless you’d prefer something stronger.”

  The girl ducked her head shyly. “No. Tea would be nice,” she said, and smiled slightly. “Thank you.”

  Samuel had returned, with Bridget trailing sullenly behind him looking as if she was being towed. “Miz Bridget,” Cade said. “Mr. and Mrs. Hamrick will be down in a bit. Why don’t you brew up a pot of tea for them and our guest here?”

  Bridget looked as outraged as if he’d asked her to disrobe. “Guest!?” She looked at Mei. “Guest, ya say?”

  “And for the rest of us,” Cade said firmly. “Get along now.” Bridget exited, muttering under her breath. The three of them sat in silence until they heard footsteps on the stairs. The girl stood up. That prompted Cade to do the same.

  Hamrick came into the room, dressed in his shirtsleeves with no jacket. He had a scowl on his face that reminded Cade of a bare-knuckle boxer stepping into the ring. “What the devil is all this?” he demanded.

  Mrs. Hamrick walked in behind him, composed as usual. “This young lady is called Mei,” she began.

  Hamrick interrupted. “I don’t give a damn if she calls herself President Grant. What the hell is she doing in my house?”

  Mrs. Hamrick’s voice could have caused frost to form on the windows. “She’s come to deliver a message.”

  Mei bowed slightly. “Excuse me. An invitation.”

  “I think you should hear what she has to say, dear,” Mrs. Hamrick said.

  “I don’t…” he began, but she put a hand on his arm, gently, and he closed his mouth. After a moment, he spoke through clenched teeth. “All right. Say your piece.”

  The girl bowed again, more deeply this time. She spoke as if reciting a lesson. “Mr. Kwan, leader and Father of the Lu Long Society, sends his greetings. He was sorry to hear of the recent attack on your house, and to hear that none of your family was injured brings him great joy.” She took a breath, as if trying to remember the next part, before going on. “He assures you that neither he nor anyone in his employment had anything to do with this cowardly and vicious attack. To endanger families and children is a disgrace he would never bring on his house or his name. All he wishes is that the white man and the Chinese live side by side in peace.”

  Hamrick stood with arms crossed across his chest, clearly not impressed with what he was hearing. “And who does this Mr. Kwan claim is responsible for the attack on my family?”

  “He does not know.” The next words flowed more naturally, clearly Mei’s own this time. “I do know, sir, that a man, a white man, has been trying to create bad feeling against the Chinese. He’s done it by—”

  Hamrick cut her off. “Okay, that’s enough of this balderdash.”

  “Mr. Hamrick,” Cade said, “maybe we should hear her—”

  “Shut up.” Hamrick turned to the girl, who was visibly trembling at the display of anger. “You tell your Mr. Kwan that I see through his Oriental tricks. He’s not going to escape justice for what he tried to do to my family. I am going to destroy him. Tell him that. Just that.”

  Mei’s face had gone expressionless again. She didn’t speak, just bowed.

  Hamrick turned to Cade. “Throw this urchin into the street.” He turned to his wife. “Marjorie, come with me.” He turned and left the room, his footfalls heavy on the floorboards.

  She followed, but not before giving Cade a nod. “Mr. Cade.” It was all the instruction he needed. She left as Bridget came in, carrying a silver tea service.

  Cade turned to Mei. “This way, Miss,” he said kindly. They passed Bridget on the way out of the room.

  “Is no one goin’ to drink this tea, then?” she complained.

  “Sorry.” Cade led the girl to the front door and accompanied her onto the stairs leading to the street.

  “So,” Mei said, her voice bitter, “are you really going to toss me into the street?”

  “No, Miss. I don’t assault children, either.” He looked to the street, where a cab, its passenger compartment hidden behind a black curtain, waited. The driver was dressed in a cloak far too heavy for a day so warm, and a slouch hat was pulled down over his face. Pro
bably another Chinese, trying not to draw attention. “That your ride home?” he said.

  Mei nodded.

  “And would Mr. Kwan be in that cab, by chance?”

  “No. He sent me as his emissary.” She sighed. “Thank you for your kindness.” She looked back at the closed door. “If only he’d listen.”

  “Maybe he will. I know I would have liked to hear more. If you can tell me the rest of the message, I’ll deliver it myself.”

  She regarded him appraisingly for a moment, then nodded. “What I did not get a chance to say was that two men have been meeting at my house. One of them hid himself behind a screen and pretended to be Mr. Kwan. The other…” she looked at the door, “…the other seemed to have some sort of…” she searched for the word, “…feud with Mr. Hamrick.”

  Cade gaped at her for a second before finding his voice. “So, this other fella, the one with the grudge against Hamrick, he’s tryin’ to get the Chinese to do him dirty?”

  The girl nodded. “That is why Mr. Kwan wished to have a meeting with Mr. Hamrick. To discuss that they have a mutual enemy. One they could maybe fight together.”

  Cade shook his head. “I don’t see Hamrick meetin’ with any Chinaman, let alone joinin’ up with one. No offense intended.”

  She continued to look at him as if she was cataloging him for a menagerie. “No,” she said finally, “I do not believe you mean any offense. So, I will tell you something you might wish to know.”

  “Oh? What’s that?”

  “Chinese people find that word, ‘Chinaman,’ insulting.”

  “Do you now?” Cade said, smiling at her. “Well, my apologies, Little Miss. Seems I have a lot to learn.”

  She smiled. “The scholar says that real knowledge is to know how ignorant one is.”

  “Well,” Cade said. “That is indeed a deep sayin’. You know this scholar fellow personally?”

  “Yes. In a way.” She hesitated and looked toward the waiting cab. “Perhaps a meeting could be arranged between Mr. Kwan and yourself.”

  He was beginning to like this spunky little girl, but that idea set his hackles rising. “Maybe,” he said cautiously.

  “Maybe.” She set off down the steps to the street, not looking back. Cade glanced at the cab, to see that the driver was peering at him. With a shock, he realized the face peering at him from under the hat was a woman’s. The perfection of her face nearly took his breath away. Before he could recover from his surprise, Mei had hiked herself up into the cab. The driver gave Cade a wink and an impish grin, then pulled her hat down, shook the reins, and turned away as the cab departed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Mei had lied about one thing. Mr. Kwan sat in the other seat of the shrouded cab, dressed in a suit like the white men wore. He saw from the look on her face how the meeting had gone. “Tell me,” he demanded.

  “I’m sorry, Honored Sir,” Mei said. “He didn’t wish to meet.”

  Kwan grunted with irritation. “What were his words?”

  “Honored Sir, I…I don’t think you would—”

  “Don’t tell me what I want and do not want, girl! Tell me.”

  She bowed her head. “He said he wasn’t going to be tricked. And that you…” she took a deep breath, “…that you were not going to escape justice. He promised to destroy you.”

  Kwan was silent for a moment, looking at nothing, thinking. Mei spoke up.

  “There is something, sir.”

  He focused on her. “What?”

  “The man who guards him. A man named Cade. He seemed willing to listen.”

  Kwan’s eyebrows knit together. “I am to meet with some sort of underling?”

  Mei bowed more deeply. “No, sir. It was just an observation.”

  When she raised her head again, he seemed to have forgotten her. He was looking away, still deep in thought. When the cab stopped, Kwan got out without speaking. Mei hesitated, then followed.

  The cab was parked in a large indoor garage. Kwan was nowhere to be seen. Lin was handing the horse’s reins to a groom, giving him instructions in a low voice. She was dressed in long trousers and shirt, with a man’s slouch hat pushed back on her head. She turned to Mei. “I see from Mr. Kwan’s expression that the talk didn’t go well.”

  Mei shook her head. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  Lin sighed. “Walk with me.” Mei followed her up a rickety wooden staircase, through the door at the top of the stairs, and into the labyrinth of corridors that made up Mr. Kwan’s headquarters. Eventually, they made their way back to the library. Lin pulled up a chair and motioned for Mei to sit on another. “Tell me what happened. What was said. As exactly as you can.”

  Mei did her best, sometimes closing her eyes to better recall the exact words. When she was done, The White Orchid was nodding. “And this man. This Cade. You think he will listen to reason?”

  “Maybe. But Mr. Kwan thinks it will be a loss of face to meet with ‘an underling.’”

  Lin snorted. “Men are ruled by their pride when they’re not being ruled by their lust.” She smiled. “That makes them easy to control.”

  “You think Mr. Kwan is easy to control?”

  “Harder than most. But in the end, he is only a man.” She stood up. “Stay here. I’ll be back. Are you hungry?”

  Mei shook her head. “No, thank you.” She felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I’m just scared. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. And I’m so tired of being scared.”

  The White Orchid put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Little Sister. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

  Mei put her hand over Lin’s, and the tears came more freely then. She felt the soft caress of one long-nailed hand in her hair, then The White Orchid was gone.

  ***

  Cade could hear the ruckus from upstairs as he went back inside the house. Samuel was at the foot of the stairs, one hand on the carved newel post, looking up. His brow was furrowed with worry.

  Cade grimaced. “Really goin’ at it, aren’t they?”

  “Do you think we need to go up there?” Samuel asked.

  “Not unless it sounds like someone’s gettin’ a beatin’,” Cade said. “You’re better off stickin’ your hand into a beehive than gettin’ between a husband and wife arguin’. And it sounds like Missus is more than holding her own.” There was an enraged male bellow, then a crash of crockery. Samuel started up the stairs. Cade put a hand on his arm. “Hold up a second.” The next thing they heard was the heavy tread of shoes on the second-floor stairs, then Hamrick appeared at the top of the stairway, his coat and hat in his hands. His face was flushed with rage as he pulled on his coat.

  “Cade,” he snapped. “You’re with me. Samuel, get the carriage ready.”

  “Beggin’ your pardon, sir,” Cade said, “but one of us ought to stay behind. To guard the house.”

  Hamrick stopped halfway down, his eyes narrowing. “Are you contradicting me, Cade?”

  Cade kept his voice as reasonable as he could. “No, sir. But the Chinese…they might come back.”

  Hamrick looked back up the stairs. At that moment, Mrs. Hamrick appeared at the top. Her eyes were wild, her face red, and her hair had come loose and hung about her shoulders.

  “Answer the damn question, John!” she shouted down. “Where were you?”

  “Marjorie,” he called back up, but she hadn’t waited for an answer. She’d vanished up the third-floor stairs. They could hear a door slam, a sound like a gunshot that had Cade reaching for his pistol.

  Hamrick looked as if he was about to stay something, then turned back to Cade. Before he could say anything else, Cade spoke up. “I can handle a team, sir. And Samuel’s heeled.” Hamrick still seemed unconvinced, so Cade played his ace. “There’s the little one to think of, sir.”

  Bridget had joined them at the foot of the stairs, looking up at Hamrick accusingly.

  Finally
, outnumbered, he broke. “Fine. Be ready to go in five minutes.”

  “Yes, sir.” Cade nodded to Samuel, who stood aside to let Hamrick down before bounding up the steps two at a time. “If you’ll wait here, sir,” Cade said, indicating the parlor. “Is there still tea, Bridget?”

  “Aye,” she said. “But it’s gettin’ cold.”

  “I’ll be around front in two shakes, Mr. Hamrick,” Cade promised.

  A few minutes later, Cade had the carriage and team ready. As Hamrick trudged toward it, Cade looked up at the house. Mrs. Hamrick was standing at a second-story window, looking down at them. She held her daughter in her arms. Her hair was still down, hanging loosely about her shoulders. He liked the way it looked. Cade touched his hand to the brim of his hat. She responded with a wave and pulled the curtain shut.

  “You’re sure you can handle this team, Cade?” Hamrick said as he clambered into the carriage.

  “Yes, sir,” Cade said as he set the team in motion. “Where to?”

  “Chinatown.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Cade didn’t like the idea, not one bit. But if it would get Hamrick and his wife apart long enough to cool down, he supposed they’d go to Chinatown. The carriage was the fanciest rig he’d ever driven, but the team was first rate, sprightly in step but quick to respond to the reins or his voice. Hamrick sat behind him, silent. “Anywhere in particular, sir?” Cade ventured.

  A brief silence, and then, “Sacramento Street.”

  “Yessir. But I’ll need directions.”

  Hamrick gave him instructions in a tight, tense voice, then sat back. Cade steered the team, trying not to think of blonde curls, loosed and tumbled and wild around the face of his employer’s wife.

  They made their way down, the streets growing more and more crowded, first with exclusively white faces, then a few black and brown faces mixed in, then a hodgepodge of all races making their way along the streets. The smells of the city became stronger and more mixed as well—the rich aroma of horse manure, the mouthwatering scents of cooking meat coming from the restaurants and smaller eating houses, the smell of sawdust from a nearby mill. It wasn’t unpleasant, Cade decided, but on the whole, he preferred the smaller western towns he’d encountered on the way here. They were less complicated, both in terms of navigation and of aroma. But he was here now, and he had a job to do.