Wicked. Beth Henderson
of her home.” Anxious to be away now, she quickly described the killer. “I believe Miss Tauber was considering blackmailing someone and was murdered to protect this person’s secrets.”
The sergeant displayed a modicum of interest at the news, but Lilly no longer wished to lay details at his feet. Not that she had many to offer.
“She only mentioned that she was considering taking this action,” Lilly added, trying to whitewash Belle’s memory. Was it because Belle had been a prostitute that the sergeant was disinclined to pursue the matter? Or was what Deegan and Hannah had said true? That a Coast law officer kept his nose out of situations where his own life might be put at risk? “However, it was a man. I do hope you are able to catch the fiend who murdered her, Officer. Now if you will excuse me?” Lilly dropped the veil over her face and turned her back on him. She was relieved when he didn’t send anyone after her to stop her from leaving.
The sergeant waited until the woman in the outlandish outfit was through the door and striding purposefully away from the station before signaling to Bitner.
“Take this to our friend,” he said, scribbling on a scrap of paper.
“Knew that woman was trouble when I first eyed her,” Bitner claimed. “Want me to follow her first?”
“No need,” the sergeant insisted as he sanded the note, folded it and passed it to his messenger. “She obligingly told me where she lived. Besides, we don’t know if she’s told anyone else about this. Our friend will need to know.”
“That’s why he pays us,” the constable, said tucking the paper in the inner pocket of his jacket.
“That’s why he keeps us alive,” the sergeant corrected.
Lilly’s faith in Deegan nearly evaporated when he wasn’t waiting where she had last seen him. Angry at him, the policemen and, in particular, herself, she shoved her hands in the dilapidated muff and headed for the nearest omnibus stop.
Why hadn’t she listened to Deegan? Why had she been so insistent upon visiting the station house?
Because she was stubborn, mule headed and determined not to be influenced by her attraction to him, that was why. If he hadn’t paid attention to her, would she have been so insistent?
Probably. It was her strong sense of justice, her compassion for those less fortunate that had led her to bring her camera to the Coast. It was her belief that crimes should be solved and evil punished that had made visiting the police so necessary.
Now she wished she had been content to bake bread, do the laundry, scrub the floors and handle nursing responsibilities at her parents’ house. Wished she had never dreamed of an independent future.
But she didn’t wish Deegan Galloway out of her life. He was her dragon slayer and there was one very large dragon yet to slay.
She was nearly to the waiting bus when he fell into step next to her, intimately commandeering her elbow.
“An omnibus, Miss Renfrew? Too plebeian for a heroine like yourself,” he murmured, steering her past the stop to where a handsome closed carriage waited, its body well polished, its matched pair of bay horses well groomed, its driver decked out like—a dockworker!
Lilly stood stock-still, staring at the apparition.
“Afternoon, miss,” the driver murmured, tipping his cloth cap.
Deegan pulled the coach door open and offered her his hand to help her climb inside. “One thing we need from you, lass,” he said. “Our destination.”
Still a bit stunned, Lilly gave it to him.
“You heard, Billy boy?” Deegan called to the stevedore.
“Like a bell,” the man assured him. Deegan had barely closed the door and settled in next to Lilly when the carriage jerked forward.
Relaxing against the plushly padded cushions, Lilly lifted the concealing veil and began untying her borrowed bonnet. “You were right,” she said, laying the hat, veil and muff on the seat opposite her. “They weren’t interested. Belle’s murderer will never be caught and punished. By them.”
She wondered if Deegan had noticed her pause. If he would read what was in her mind.
If he did either, he gave no outward sign. “Wouldn’t one of those street preachers quote a Bible passage at you about that?”
Lilly sighed deeply in resignation. “Yes,” she whispered. “‘Vengeance is mine saith the Lord.’ But that doesn’t appease my need for justice.”
“I didn’t think it would,” Deegan said. “No more sword-of-justice wielding for you today, though. It is well past time for you to be home.”
There was no arguing that. Her sister, Vinia, would be furious and her parents worried. Of all the times Lilly had been away from home, she had never stayed out past dark. By the time they reached her neighborhood on the far side of Nob Hill, there would be little but an occasional streetlamp and the glow of light from the houses to guide pedestrians. At least, thanks to Deegan and the borrowed—stolen?—coach, she wouldn’t be among their number.
“This equipage is far too dear for my purse,” Lilly said. “I’ve barely enough with me to take the streetcar.”
Deegan resettled in his seat, moving closer to her. She wondered if he was as aware as she was that his thigh was nearly touching hers now, separated from such shocking intimacy only by her layers of cloak, skirt and petticoats.
“Not to fret, darlin’,” he said. “I have more than enough. Tell me what happened with the police.”
Nothing, Lilly thought sadly. But she told him what had been said, tempering the report of her emotional reaction to it all.
When she had finished, he offered her his handkerchief. “My poor wren,” he soothed as she dabbed at the tears that had gathered in her eyes.
When Deegan made no further comment, Lilly realized that he wasn’t going to offer his services. If she wanted his help, she was going to have to boldly ask for it.
And that would take courage she was currently lacking.
She looked down at her gloved hands. His handkerchief was still clutched tightly in her fingers, as if it were a lifeline. Lilly handed it back to him. “Again, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you, Mr. Galloway,” she said.
“Your safety is all that is important,” he assured her, removing his hat and tossing it across to land next to her borrowed finery.
“I am not wealthy,” she warned, “but surely remuneration for your time, if not your quick thinking, is in order.”
Outside the window, the landmarks that marked the boundaries of the Coast fell away. Some of Lilly’s tension receded along with them. While her posture remained rigid, she could feel her features grow more relaxed. What could she tell her family to account for the lateness of her arrival? That she’d gone into the local version of hell and witnessed a crime? That she had lost track of time because of the heady attentions of a handsome rogue?
“There’s no reason to repay me, Miss Renfrew. Think of me merely as your Good Samaritan.”
More likely, Lilly would remember him as the most fascinating man she had ever met. “I will. But surely—”
“Perhaps if I was a shopkeeper, I would agree with you, wren,” he said. “But, as I am not, the gift of a smile will suffice.”
A smile! The man was either mad or incurably romantic. She had yet to hear a woman of any age or station claim men were ever romantic. Of course, the phrase had rolled off his tongue too smoothly to sound sincere, had been too glib not to be well practiced and frequently delivered. Her hero was beginning to show signs that he was like other men.
Lilly didn’t care one iota.
“I would prefer to pay my debts in something more