The Killing Look Read online

  As he took up his position, Cade reflected on the little man’s clear contempt for the Chinese. Guess we all need someone to look down on. His own inadvertent joke made him chuckle, but he didn’t share it with the tailor. He didn’t want to get stabbed again.

  CHAPTER NINE

  After the tailor had finished his work, Cade found himself with nothing to do. He decided to set out and explore the house. Given the generally uncomfortable feel of the household, he didn’t know how well his reconnaissance might be received, but he needed to know the lay of the land here. He left his weapons behind. As he walked out of the room, he caught himself closing the door behind him softly and carefully, so as not to make a sound. What the hell, he thought. They’ve got me so buffaloed, I’m acting like I got no right to be here. He reopened the door and closed it a little harder. That made him feel even more foolish. He looked around the hallway. Every door was closed. He’d have to ask who slept where. The stairs he’d climbed to get here were halfway down the hall. Another set led up to what he assumed was the master sleeping quarters. He took the steps down to the hallway where he’d entered earlier. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, a doorway opened onto an opulently furnished parlor on his right. It was empty. There was no sound of voices, no indication that the house was even inhabited. The quiet seemed somehow unnatural for a home where people were supposed to be living. There was a heavy walnut door to his left, slightly ajar. He pushed it and it swung open. Behind it was a large room, with a large bay window facing the street that allowed light in. Luxurious-looking green leather chairs were placed about the room, and bookshelves lined with books dominated the wall. It was a study, or library, where the master of the house could retire, possibly with his cronies, and chew the fat over brandy and cigars.

  Cade exited and went into the parlor. He noticed a book on one of the side tables. He picked it up and looked at the cover. A lurid drawing of an Indian in an extravagant headdress and buckskins charging on horseback with lance upraised was splashed across it. The title blared The Yellow Chief: A Romance of The Rocky Mountains. Cade smiled. So someone in the house had a taste for cheap dime novels. He put the book back on the table and moved on. Down at the end of the hallway he located the large formal dining room, complete with gaslit chandelier. It was there he heard the murmur of voices coming from behind a door to one side. He heard someone laugh, a deep, masculine laugh in a voice that sounded oddly familiar. He swung the door open and the laughter stopped.

  He was looking into a long, narrow kitchen. Standing at the iron stove on the left was Bridget, stirring something in a large pot. Samuel was seated on a stool behind a large, waist-high prep table that ran half the length of the room. He had a cup of something raised to his lips and a smile on his face. Cade hadn’t known he was capable of smiling. Both of them turned to look at Cade as he stepped across the corridor and into the kitchen. “Afternoon,” he said.

  “Good afternoon.” Samuel’s smile had disappeared without a trace. “Anything I can get for you, sir?”

  “No. No,” Cade said. “Just gettin’ the layout. Figgerin’ out where everything is.”

  “Well,” Bridget said, “this here would be the kitchen.”

  Cade ignored the sarcasm. “I reckon so.” He stepped back into the narrow corridor and looked down it to see a door at the end. Daylight came through a small glass pane at the end. “And down that way is a back door to…where?”

  “Carriage yard,” Samuel answered. “Stables and carriage house across it.”

  “Behind that?”

  Samuel picked up his cup. “A twelve-foot hedge, backing up to the yard of the house the next street over.”

  “A hedge?”

  “Bushes,” Bridget supplied. “Tall, thick bushes,”

  “I know what a hedge is,” Cade snapped. “I want to see it. If there’s a back way onto the property, I need to know about it if I’m goin’ to guard these folks, and the two of you in the bargain.”

  Bridget and Samuel looked at each other. Samuel shrugged and put his cup down again. “Follow me.” Cade stepped aside and let Samuel lead him down the corridor.

  “This door kept locked?” Cade asked as Samuel opened it.

  “At night, yes.” He stepped out. “During the day, there’s deliveries. Most of them come to the kitchen door, though.” He pointed to another door, off to the side of the kitchen.

  “Two back entrances?” The problem was getting more complicated.

  “This way,” Samuel said. Cade followed him into a large round space, with the earth packed down by years of feet, hooves, and wheels. On the other side of that yard was the carriage house and stable, a one-story building with huge white doors pulled closed. Behind it, he could see the dark green of the hedge. He walked over, passing by the carriage house, and stood in front of it.

  The growth was neatly trimmed and, Cade guessed, closer to ten feet than twelve. He put out a hand and pushed against the tightly bunched growth. It was a formidable obstacle, he had to admit, but it was only bushes. “Any gate through this?” he asked. “Any way to the next property over?”

  Samuel shook his head. “Missus likes her privacy.”

  Cade turned. “Missus?”

  “Mrs. Hamrick.”

  Cade nodded and walked down the length of the hedge, to where it turned and ran down the other edge of the property to the corner of the house. It formed a green wall around three sides of the stable yard, with a long, cobbled driveway running by the other side and connecting the yard to the street. Cade was beginning to feel hemmed in. In fact, this whole house had made him feel claustrophobic since he’d walked through the front door. He looked up at the three stories of the structure, at the windows and turrets that protruded here and there. Without speaking, he walked back to the house, Samuel trailing behind. When he walked back in, Cade looked around the hallway and kitchen again, sucking at his teeth as he thought.

  Samuel interrupted his contemplation as he stood in the hallway. “Well?”

  Cade looked at him. “Well, what?”

  “Can you protect the house?”

  “This house? Not without more men. I hate to sound like a croaker, but I’d feel a sight easier with riflemen at the back and the front. Someone up in one of those windows keepin’ watch wouldn’t hurt, either.”

  Samuel shook his head. “Missus would never approve. She gave Mr. Hamrick the dickens for bringing you home.”

  Cade looked at him, startled. “So just who is it wears the long pants in this household?”

  Samuel didn’t answer. He turned away and walked back into the kitchen. Cade wanted to grab him and give him a walloping for his insolence, but he restrained himself. It wouldn’t do to get shit-canned for fighting. He shook his head and made his way back upstairs, thinking things over.

  Protecting the house was out of the question. It was too big, with too many entrances and exits. He’d need to stick close to Hamrick. Problem was, he didn’t even know where his employer was at the moment. He’d have to have a serious talk with Hamrick when he saw him again. In the meantime, he reverted to the remedy of all seasoned soldiers when given nothing to do: he lay down on the bed and went to sleep.

  CHAPTER TEN

  He was awakened by the clattering of dishes and muttered imprecations in a language he didn’t recognize. Instinctively, his heart pounding, Cade sat up in the bed, swinging his legs over, his hand going to the pistol hanging on the bedstead. In a moment, he had it out, pointing at the intruder, pulling the hammer back with his thumb.

  He found himself staring over the iron sights at the slight figure of Bridget, frozen with her hand holding a silver platter an inch above a side table. Her eyes widened with terror for a half second, then narrowed to the contemptuous stare to which he’d become accustomed. “Can I at least put yer dinner down before ya shoot me?”

  He lowered the gun. “Sorry. You startled me.”

  She nodded stiffly, then turned back
to setting his food out. He could see that she was still shaking.

  “I really am sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  She turned to face him, raising her chin defiantly. “You think you scare me, big man?”

  “Yeah,” Cade said. “And that’s not doing anyone any good at all.” He shook his head. “Everyone in this damn house is on edge. Everyone here acts like they’re mad at somethin’, but I wonder if they ain’t just afraid. And I’m supposed to protect them against whatever it is they’re afraid of, but I’ve got no damn idea what it is.” He slid the gun back into its holster. “Maybe you can help me figure it out so I don’t end up drawing down on the wrong people. Like I just did on you.” He patted the bed next to him. When Bridget gave him those narrowed eyes again, he slid all the way up to the space by the headboard and pointed to the posts at the foot of the bed. Reluctantly, the woman walked over and took a seat as far away on the bed as she could get. She didn’t look at Cade.

  “So,” he said, “who is it that wants to hurt our boss man?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.” For once, her prickly facade dropped and she looked at Cade imploringly. “I really don’t. He doesn’t confide in the servants. Well, maybe Samuel. All I know is he came home one night two weeks ago in a tremendous taking. He told Mrs. Hamrick someone had taken a shot at him.”

  “Samuel said Mr. Hamrick had another fellow working for him before me. Was he around then?”

  She made a face as if he’d mentioned a relative caught in sexual congress with a sheep. “Walker,” she said. “He was useless.”

  “So, this Walker…he skedaddled as soon as there was a threat?”

  Bridget nodded. “Useless,” she said again. “Like tits on a boar.”

  Cade ran his hand over his face, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. “But we still don’t know who the threat is. Hamrick…sorry, Mr. Hamrick…mentioned the Chinese. And the hoodlums.”

  Bridget snorted. “The hoodlums? A bunch of children let run wild, thinking they’re so frightenin’ with their brass knuckles and clubs. Any real man could send them packin’ with a look. Besides, they only pick on the Chinese.”

  “The Chinese,” Cade said. “You think maybe it’s them?”

  She shook her head. “Who can tell with those people? They don’t think like us.”

  “When it comes to killin’,” Cade muttered, “we all got a lot more in common than you might think.”

  “What?”

  He shook his head. “Never mind. I guess we just have to go on and see what comes our way.”

  “Well,” Bridget says. “You’ll get your chance, soon enough. I heard Himself tellin’ Samuel to have the carriage ready tonight for an excuuuuursion,” she drew the word out mockingly.

  “Business or pleasure?”

  She smiled, that same sardonic expression on her face. “You think they let the likes of us know?”

  He nodded. “Good point.” As he stood up, Bridget slid over and put her hand on his arm. She looked up at him, her dark brown eyes wide and more vulnerable than he’d ever seen them before. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m as in the dark as you. I wish there was more I could tell you. I just feel there’s somethin’ terrible about to happen.” She looked at the door as if expecting a bogeyman to come through it. “Not just for Mr. Hamrick. But for his wife. And that sweet little girl.”

  Cade moved to put his own hand on Bridget’s, but the maid suddenly seemed to recognize how close they were sitting. She slid quickly to the other end of the bed, then hopped down to the floor.

  “Bridget,” Cade said, but he stopped when he saw that fierce look was back.

  “I told you, big man,” she snapped. “I’m not bedding you. Not tonight. Not ever.”

  “I ain’t asked,” he snapped back as he stood up, “and I wasn’t fixin’ to.” Their fierce staring contest was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come,” he called out.

  The door swung open to reveal Hamrick standing there, dressed in black trousers, another elaborately embroidered waistcoat, and a dark bowler hat. His eyes flickered from Cade to Bridget, then back again. He smiled sardonically. “I need you to accompany me on an outing, Mr. Cade. I trust this is not an inconvenient moment?”

  “No, sir,” Cade answered. “I am at your disposal.”

  “I was just makin’ up the room,” Bridget said, clearly flustered.

  Hamrick regarded her coolly. “I’m sure.”

  Annoyed as he was with Bridget, Cade didn’t like the way her face crumpled at the insinuating tone, and he cared even less for the way Hamrick seemed to enjoy the girl’s humiliation. He also wasn’t pleased at the thought that Hamrick had been listening at the door. He took the gun belt off the bedpost and buckled it on. Then he went to the hat rack in the corner and put on his Stetson.

  “Ready when you are, sir,” he said.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The carriage was waiting for them out front, Samuel rigid as always in the driver’s seat. He looked straight ahead, not acknowledging Cade or Hamrick until Hamrick spoke. “Evening, Samuel.”

  “Sir.”

  “Should I ride shotgun?” Cade asked. “Or with you?”

  Hamrick smiled. “You’re the bodyguard, Mr. Cade. Which do you recommend?”

  Cade pondered a moment. “On a trail, I’d want to be up front. To see what might be comin’ at us or at the side. In a city,” he shook his head as the complexity of the problem began to impress itself on him, “in the city, I don’t know which way a threat might come from. Can I ask where we’re going?”

  “Why, the Barbary Coast, of course. For business reasons, you understand.” Cade thought he might have heard Samuel snort derisively, but he wasn’t sure, and Hamrick didn’t react.

  “Then I best sit close as I can.” Cade climbed up as Hamrick slid over. Samuel, impassive as ever, twitched the reins and shouted, “Gee-YUP,” and they were off.

  “So,” Hamrick said after several minutes, “if you do want to bed Bridget, I can give you some advice in that regard.”

  “I don’t know what you mean, sir,” Cade answered. Hamrick didn’t pursue the issue further, but Cade could still see his smirk. Ten dollars a week, Cade told himself. Ten dollars. He’d put up with a lot of guff from employers for a lot less money. It still didn’t mean he had to like it.

  They descended the hill again as darkness crept over the city. The lights were beginning to come on. First a few sparks in the gathering gloom, then the gas lamps began to kindle, creating a constellation, then a galaxy of light that they descended into, the view narrowing as they came down from the heights into the crowded city. Before long, the wide prosperous streets began to narrow, the surroundings becoming more and more shabby, until they were back in the Barbary Coast.

  The quarter was in its full chaotic glory. The sidewalks teemed with lurching drunks, shifty-eyed footpads, and half-dressed whores leaning out of doorways and windows, promising all manner of delights, some quite improbable. Wide-eyed farm boys in overalls and weary miners, their clothes still dusty, stumbled through the circus of vice, just itching to be parted from their carefully hoarded money. Music, often tinny and off key, spilled from random doorways. Cade kept his eyes moving and his head on a swivel, looking for threats and finding them everywhere. Nothing was specific enough to make him draw the pistol at his hip, although his hand never strayed far from it. This body-guarding job was harder than he’d thought, especially if Hamrick intended to keep visiting the most crowded and violent quarter of the city.

  Eventually, the carriage pulled up before a ramshackle three-story building, not that much different from a hundred others in the quarter. A ragged and unshaven vagrant slouching in a chair by the swinging doors of the street-level entrance raised his bleary eyes, then sprang to his feet and ran inside. In a moment, a black boy of no more than ten or eleven years ran out and took the bridle of the right-hand horse
before looking up at the stern-faced Samuel in the driver’s seat. The sight of Cade and the gun at his hip made the boy flinch back as if he’d been struck. He recovered his composure in a second, however, and stepped boldly back to stand beside the horse and look up at Samuel. “May we look after your horses, sir?”

  Samuel looked down at him, imperious as a graven pharaoh, before giving a curt nod. The boy took hold of the bridle again, leaning over to whisper something in the horse’s ear. The animal twitched the ear, whinnied, then allowed himself to be led past the front entrance and down a narrow alley between buildings. Cade tensed. This would be a perfect spot for an ambush.

  “Rest easy, Mr. Cade.” Hamrick sounded amused. “This is a safe haven.”

  “In my experience, sir, that’s where you’re most likely to get jumped.”

  They passed beneath a wooden arch into a small courtyard lit with torches. Shadowy figures lined the walls, slouched beneath overhanging balconies. Cade drew the pistol, but held it down along his leg.

  “Are you frightened, Mr. Cade?” Hamrick’s voice still held that tone of wry amusement, but Cade thought he might be hearing a crack in the cool facade.

  “No, sir,” he said. “Not frightened. Just careful. If you know these folks, you might want to give me an introduction.”

  Hamrick chuckled, that crack in his languid exterior quickly pasted over as if it had never occurred. “That might be difficult, considering no one here uses their real name. Not even me.”

  The shadowy figures along the walls were coming into better focus as Cade’s eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom. They were all female, or at least a reasonable facsimile, dressed even more revealingly than the women he’d seen accosting strangers on the main street. A couple were actually naked above the waist, breasts sagging and pendulous in a way that was the opposite of erotic.