Page 13 of Love Be Mine (The Louisiana Ladies #3)

John glanced across at Hugh. "Go ahead and see this young man. No one will mind if you desert us for a few minutes."

Jean stood up. " Non . We will leave. We only came to welcome you to the city, and it is time we were on our way." Shaking John's hand once more, Jean said, "I have enjoyed our talk this evening—and I did not expect to!"

"Surprisingly, so did I," John admitted with a crooked grin. "Perhaps we have both grown mellow with age?"

Smiling and shaking his head at the same time, Jean murmured, "Who can tell? This promises to be a most interesting summer, that I can tell you!"

The two Lancasters escorted their departing guests to the front door. Shutting the door behind them, Hugh said, "I shall see Etienne now. I do not know how long I shall be."

John shot him a shrewd glance. "It appears that Mr. Gras's arrival is a bit more than just the innocent business matter you described to the others."

"Yes, it is. I would have preferred that our guests had not learned his name or of his visit. I am hoping that Mr. Gras will prove to be the weak link in the chain of our thieves."

"You suspect one of them? Certainly not Jasper!"

"No, not Jasper," Hugh said with a laugh. Then he turned somber. "But as for the others..."

The two men parted, John deciding to seek out his bed and Hugh to meet with Etienne. After bidding his stepfather good night, Hugh entered the small parlor at the front of the house. Etienne was nervously pacing the floor, his young face white and tense. The mere opening of the door had him starting like a hare flushed by a hound.

His eyes wide and fearful, he stared at Hugh as if he had seen a ghost. "Monsieur!" he cried. "You did not tell me that you would have guests. I never would have called tonight if I had known."

Hugh indicated that he should be seated and murmured, "I am sorry. I had no idea that I would have guests this evening and I did not know that you would choose to call tonight." He glanced at Etienne as the young man gingerly sat down. "The men who just left are all known to you—Jean Dupree, Francois Dupree, and Alain Husson. All, one, or none of them could be involved in the thefts at the company—until we know differently, you would be wise to be on your guard against all three of them." Hugh grimaced. "It was most unfortunate that they were here tonight of all nights."

Etienne swallowed and muttered, "Sacrebleu! Unfortunate does not describe it. It could mean my life if anyone suspects that I am meeting with you."

Hugh remembered that odd moment when he had reluctantly mentioned Etienne's name earlier. "Just meeting with me would put you in danger?" he asked, his eyes fixed on Etienne's pale face.

Etienne gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, oui ! The men who steal from your company are powerful. They will kill me if they even think I mean to cooperate with you."

Hugh said nothing for several seconds. He had been so intent upon his own goal that he had not considered he could be putting Etienne's life in danger by wooing him to his side. Silently Hugh cursed himself for not realizing that he might be dealing with ruthless men—men who would apparently kill. But would these men really kill, he wondered, or did Etienne merely believe that they would?

Hugh sighed. In his innocence he had assumed that the situation facing him was simple; the company profits were falling and he intended to find out why. He had suspected thievery and/or embezzlement all along, but he had not thought that any of the company's partners were involved. That suspicion had come later, although not much later. It was still possible that whoever was behind the losses was someone with no connection to Galland, Lancaster and Dupree. New Orleans was rife with a criminal element, but he doubted that the thief was an outsider. And it was unlikely that the problem was confined to mere employees of the firm. No, Hugh was certain that the person who pulled all the strings was one of the partners. But which one? A tigerish smile curved his mouth. It would be nice if it turned out to be Alain Husson—he would enjoy destroying that arrogant son of a bitch.

"You find my peril amusing?" Etienne asked sharply.

Hugh's smile vanished, and he shook his head. "No. I do not. But I wonder if you have not overestimated the danger. Thievery is one thing, coldblooded murder another. Will these men really kill you?"

"They will."

There was such honest conviction in Etienne's voice that Hugh put his own doubts to rest. Not only, it seemed, was he dealing with thieves, but men who practiced murder as well. He grimaced. Not a pleasant situation. An equally unpleasant thought struck him—if the person who was behind the thefts was one of the partners, this evening he might well have signed Etienne's death warrant by having identified him as his visitor.

Across the distance that separated them, Hugh studied the younger man. Etienne's face was pale and haggard, and there was a quiet desperation in his dark eyes. His decision to help had not come lightly, and Hugh admired his courage.

"You are a brave young man," Hugh said softly.

Etienne shook his dark head and said tiredly, "Indeed, I am not, monsieur." He rubbed his fingers across his forehead. "I am my mother's only son, you understand? My father died nearly three years ago, and I have five younger sisters who must be provided for." He smiled sadly and met Hugh's eyes. "My papa was a good man, but he did not leave Maman or any of us a great deal when he died. Oh, we are not destitute, but Maman is relying heavily on what I earn to provide respectable dowries for my sisters."

"I understand," Hugh murmured, his gray eyes full of sympathy, but no pity. To pity this young man would be to offend him.

Etienne's gaze dropped from Hugh's. "It was to earn more money that I gambled," he admitted unhappily. "I thought..." He gave that bitter laugh again. "Oh, it does not matter what I thought. I became heavily in debt and it was then that..." He swallowed and stared at the floor in front of him.

"It was then," Hugh said softly, "that someone approached you with a way to pay off your debts as well as earn extra money, yes?"

"Oui."

"Who was it?"

Etienne slumped in his chair. "I do not know," he said under his breath.

Hugh frowned. "What do you mean? Surely you know his name?"

"I do not. I swear it, Monsieur! I received an unsigned note outlining a way in which I could redeem my debts and, as you say, obtain extra money. I threw it away." He glanced at Hugh. "I like to think that I am an honest man, monsieur. I did not want to steal. I did not want to become a thief, but Maman, my sisters, my debts." He buried his head in his hands. "We would have been ruined! There would have been no husbands for my sisters; Maman would have been disgraced. And my debts..."

"A difficult situation," Hugh said gently.

"Several weeks went by, and I heard nothing more. I thought that was the end of it, but it was not. Another note was delivered to me, with the same message. I threw that one away, too... but not right away." He looked at Hugh. "I was tempted, monsieur. Vastly. I had lost more money, and the man who held my notes was pressing me to pay."

"Would that have been Alain Husson?"

"It was. How did you guess?"

Hugh shrugged. "Monsieur Husson's penchant for gambling and winning is common knowledge. As is the unfortunate luck that seems to befall people who do not pay their debts to him promptly. But go on with your tale."

"There were two more notes to me, each delivered a few weeks apart and finally..." Etienne swallowed, his gaze fixed unhappily on Hugh's face. "And finally, I gave in. I agreed to help. For one shipment only."

"How did you contact the sender of the note? You said you do not know him?"

"I do not. As always, I was given instructions that if I agreed, I was to go to the Silver Cock and leave four silver bits on a specific table. Then I was to leave. I did as I had been instructed."

"The Silver Cock—I do not believe I am familiar with that place."

Etienne gave a mirthless smile. "You would not be. It is a low tavern, a vile den of thieves and vice, located in the Swamp."

Hugh nodded. The Swamp was a notorious area a dozen blocks from the waterfront. Gambling dens, houses of prostitution, and unsavory taverns abounded. The population was composed of ruffians and rogues, whores and pimps, and the unruly riverboat men and others who were not too choosy where they spent their money or laid their heads. Robbery, murder, and rape were common occurrences. It was not an area a respectable man would have normally frequented. The Swamp was a law unto itself.

"I see," Hugh murmured. "And after you followed your instructions?"

Etienne sank back into the chair. "A few days passed, and I heard nothing. I wondered if my message had been received. Then one evening as I was walking home, a hood was dropped over my head, and I was pulled into an alley. I was terrified, Monsieur! All I could think of was my poor maman and my sisters—how alone they would be if I died." He swallowed again. "But I was not to die. A man with a gruff voice told me precisely what I was to do. Where I would find the supplies I would need. It was a printer's shop and a package was waiting for me. It had my name on it. In the middle of the stack of paper was a note. I had been told to look for it. I was to keep the paper safe and I would be contacted and told more when necessary. Again several weeks went by." Etienne sighed heavily. "And then the ship La Marie-Rose arrived from France. Almost the entire ship's cargo was for the company—it was a very large shipment. I started work as I usually do on the inventory that afternoon. That very night I was roughly awakened in my room and found to my terror that these men had dared to enter my home— Maman and my sisters were asleep just down the hall. Despite the darkness, they hooded me again, a knife was held to my throat and after swearing to do terrible, terrible things to my family if I made a sound, they gave me my instructions." A shudder went through Etienne. "They must have eyes everywhere, else they would not have known that I had even started the inventory. I was told precisely what to do. I was to pretend to continue the inventory and to make excuses if Monsieur Brisson or anyone else who wanted to know why I was not done with it asked. In two days, I was to begin anew and to make note of any differences. On the special paper I had already been given I was to make a false copy, making it agree with what remained in the warehouse and substitute it where necessary in the original lists. I was to destroy any original pages which would have revealed the theft and keep my mouth shut—they would see to everything else. My money would be paid as soon as the goods were sold."

"And was it?"

"Oh, oui," Etienne said wearily. "It was a grand sum. Enough to pay off all my debts. I felt a new man."

"And?"

"And I was a thief, and I did not like myself very much. I thought that that would be the end of it."

"But you gambled again."

"A little," Etienne answered honestly. "But not a great deal. I had learned my lesson. It was not the gambling which trapped me—it was agreeing to help them in the first place. I thought that I would only need to do it that one time, but I had not reckoned with the men who used me. They came back, meeting with me the same way, in an alley with a hood over my head. And they wanted me to do it again and again." Etienne fixed a pleading stare on Hugh. " Monsieur , you must believe me when I say I resisted. I did. I wanted nothing more to do with them. But it was made clear that having helped once, if I refused to help again, everything would be blamed on me! I had to help them or face total ruination." He looked away. "I did what they wanted."

There was a brief silence. It was obvious that Etienne was exhausted. He was slumped in the chair, his head in his hands.

"You never saw their faces?" Hugh asked with a frown.

"Never." Etienne lifted his head and smiled bleakly at Hugh. "I have nothing to prove my story. Not a scrap of paper. Not an identity. Not a thing."

"Did you talk to anyone at the Silver Cock? Or at the printer's shop? Did you try to find out who picked up the silver or who had ordered the paper for you?"

"The Silver Cock is not a place where one asks questions. As for the print shop, I did go back and ask who had placed the order, but no one seemed to know. They were polite and, I am sure, honest. Whoever is doing the stealing is very, very clever—and has taken great pains to keep his identity a secret."

It made for an outrageous tale, but Hugh did not doubt a word of it. Careful questioning of Etienne brought little more to light, and by the time Hugh had picked Etienne's brain clean, he knew everything Etienne knew about the thefts. Despite his disappointment with what he had learned, he reassured the young man that his part in the thefts would be kept secret and that he would be rewarded for his help. Showing Etienne to the door, Hugh said quietly, "For the time being you should do your job as you normally would. Until another large shipment arrives they are not likely to contact you." Hugh shot him a piercing look. "The moment you do hear anything, let me know immediately. Do not hesitate an instant."

"What will you do?" Etienne asked fearfully.

The young man deserved honesty. Bleakly Hugh admitted, "I do not know yet. But do not be alarmed. I will keep my word and keep you out of it as much as possible."

They said good night and parted. Hugh spent what remained of the night pacing the floor, considering all that he had learned. It wasn't, he thought grimly, a very great deal, and most of what Etienne had told him, he had already suspected. It was comforting to know that he had not been far off in the manner of the thefts, but it galled him that he had not learned more about the men involved. He grimaced. All he had learned tonight simply confirmed his suspicions.

Hugh had guessed that several men were involved—there had to be to move the goods. Gangs in New Orleans were common, and Hugh did not doubt that he was dealing with a well-organized, ruthless group of criminals. It was also clear from things Etienne had told him that the first thefts had not been as large or as frequent as the ones that had taken place in this past year or so. The thieves had been cautious at first, but as they had met with success after success and no hint of suspicion fell upon them, they had grown greedy. If they had continued to keep their plunder small, who knew when their tactics would have been discovered? Fluctuating profits were to be expected in his kind of business, and Hugh doubted that even he himself would have questioned a slight drop here and there.

But this last year they had grown very greedy indeed. Why? Simple greed? Or need? And what need? During his questioning Etienne had admitted that his payment for each theft had remained the same, no matter the size of the booty. More men to pay? Hugh did not think so. In fact, he did not believe that he was dealing with a large gang of thieves. It probably, excluding Etienne, consisted of no more than half a dozen carefully picked men. Eight maximum. And the leader.

So who was behind it? Hugh liked Alain Husson for the position, and it was not just his own prejudice against the man which led him in that direction. Alain's unsavory connections and his reputation for being ruthless in pursuit of money owed him were already known. A man who, if rumor was to be believed, hired scoundrels to terrorize and brutally attack his debtors would not hesitate to use such tactics in other matters. He was acquainted with the denizens of New Orleans' underbelly. But was it Alain?

And if the mastermind was not Husson, then who?

Jean? Francois? The notion that it could be one of his wife's relatives had not escaped him. Gloomily Hugh admitted that he had always believed that one of the reasons Micaela had trapped him into marriage was to protect her family.

But if it had been for her family's sake that Micaela had gone to such lengths to marry him, did she know something? Suspect something? Hugh's jaw clenched. The next time he was face-to-face with his charming wife, he was going to have a frank conversation with her.

Determined not to think of Micaela or her part in the difficulties at the family company, Hugh shut his mind to the tempting image which erupted in his brain—Micaela standing before him, her dark eyes soft and welcoming, her mouth warmly smiling... With a muttered curse, he damned himself for a fool. As for loving her—he did, he would not deny it, but he sure as hell was not happy about it.

Dawn was breaking when he decided to seek a few hours of sleep, and it was midmorning when he awoke. After a hasty bath, he dressed and hurried down the stairs. A brief word with Sampson elicited the information that John Lancaster was in the courtyard. Asking Sampson to bring food and coffee out there, Hugh walked out to the courtyard. After greeting his stepfather and apologizing for sleeping late, he took a seat at the iron table where John sat sipping a cup of coffee.

Conversation between the two men was inconsequential until after Sampson had appeared and served Hugh his breakfast: John had eaten earlier. Once Hugh's crawfish omelette, fresh strawberries, and pain perdu with cane syrup were served, and a piping-hot pot of coffee placed on the table, Sampson withdrew, and the two men were able to talk seriously:

Between mouthfuls of food, Hugh told John everything that he had learned from Etienne the previous night. It took a long time as he had to backtrack occasionally to explain a particular aspect or point. There was much discussion between the two men about the situation, even more speculation about who the mastermind behind the thefts could be, and several fruitless minutes were spent trying to devise a way to flush their quarry.

The day was increasingly humid and warm, the air still and heavy. Around two o'clock in the afternoon, Hugh raised his eyes and scanned the dirty-skirted clouds drifting across the blue sky. "It looks as if we may get a thunderstorm, shortly," he said. "Shall we go inside? It will be cooler in the house anyway."

Settled in Hugh's study, they continued to discuss their problems. John had wanted to know more about Alain Husson, and Hugh complied.

When Hugh was finished speaking, John leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him. "I cannot," he began, "believe that both or even one of the Duprees is involved in this. Jean and I have had our disagreements in the past, but he is an honorable man." John grinned at Hugh. "Perhaps not as good a businessman as he would like to think, but an honest man. He is loyal to his family, mayhap too much, and I am convinced that he would do nothing to harm the company. As for young Francois..." John's face hardened. "I will tell you the truth—I did not like his father." He sent Hugh a glance from under his elegantly arched brows. "Did you ever meet Renault?"

Hugh nodded. "Once, on my first trip down to New Orleans—Jasper introduced us."

"Like him?"

Hugh smiled. "Not particularly. He was very haughty, very condescending. I thought him a cold, calculating bastard—not someone I would turn my back on for fear of finding a dagger plunged into it."

"That was Renault," John said grimly. "I only met the boy last night, and I see flashes of his father in him, but I also see a great deal of his mother in him. You know him better than I—is it likely that Francois could be behind our troubles?"

"I doubt it. And yet, I cannot entirely exonerate him. If Husson rubs shoulders with the criminal element in the city, Francois is the one most likely to be in financial difficulties. In much the same way that Etienne was drawn into their intrigue, I could see Francois being done the same way. It is common knowledge that he owes Husson a tidy sum of money, just as Etienne did. It is possible that Francois is an unwilling tool."

"Possible, but likely?"

"I do not know," Hugh said disgustedly. "Francois was not happy about my arrival or my marriage to his sister. Last night you saw him at his most charming, believe me."

They speculated on the problem for several moments longer, before John said, "Enough of this for now. Tell me more about your bride. When do we go to Amour?"

Hugh hesitated. He had known this question was coming and he had not yet decided how he was going to handle it. Walking a narrow path between truth and mendacity, he said slowly, "Etienne admitted to me last night that upon orders, he had destroyed the message which had arrived several weeks ago alerting us to the possible arrival of Le Lys Bleu and her cargo. Apparently Le Lys Bleu herself also carried a message for us, which Etienne also destroyed, about another ship which would be sailing approximately six weeks behind her. Assuming she sailed as indicated she should be, barring pirates and storms, arriving around mid-July. Etienne said that Le Coq will be carrying another large consignment for us. I want to be here when she arrives."

"I understand, my boy, but there is nothing stopping us from leaving the city for a few days, is there? Perhaps even a week or more? Nothing is likely to happen until Le Coq arrives. And it is the fever season. Anyone with any sense has already left the city." He smiled. "I did not travel all this distance to die of fever in New Orleans, did I?"

"Of course not," Hugh said easily. "It is too late today to start for Amour, and after last night I am longing very much for a good night's sleep. I shall send a servant tomorrow to let Micaela know that we shall be arriving on Thursday. That will give me tomorrow in which to make certain that all is well at the office, and that Etienne is following my orders."

* * *

On Wednesday, as he had planned, Hugh went to the office. He finished up a few details and was pleased to see Etienne, looking a little haggard-eyed, busy at work. Except for a sudden paling when Hugh asked him to join him in his office, Etienne seemed as always.

Hugh did not keep him long. Only long enough to let him know that he would be leaving the city on Thursday and would not be back for a week, ten days.

"If you need me," Hugh said, "for... anything , send someone you can trust with a message. Amour is not above a hard three-hour ride from the city. I can be here the same day I receive any message from you."

Etienne nodded. He turned to go, but Hugh called him back.

"You have placed enormous trust in me," Hugh said quietly. "I shall not fail you. I do not believe that any harm should come to you and I would not willingly place you in any danger, nor ask you to risk your life." He hesitated before saying, " But if these men are as ruthless as you say, if something were to happen, I promise you that your mother and sisters will not suffer."

Etienne's eyes searched Hugh's. What he saw there must have reassured him, for he said huskily, "Thank you, monsieur. I have worried much over my decision to talk to you. You have relieved my mind."

A half hour later, having told Monsieur Brisson where to reach him and when he would be returning to the city, Hugh left the office. Upon his return home, he found that a message from Jean Dupree had arrived. Sipping a glass of port in a shady corner of the courtyard, Hugh read the message. He glanced across at his stepfather, who was sitting beside him.

"We shall have company at Amour," Hugh said. "Jean writes that he and Francois will visit on Monday or Tuesday. They are going to Riverbend for a few days and then will come to Amour. They do not say for how long they intend to stay."

John laughed and shook a teasing finger at him. "Ah, my boy, that is what you get for marrying a Creole girl—have you not heard the saying that when you marry a Creole bride, you marry her and her five hundred relatives! Be happy that the Dupree family is small."

They spent a pleasant afternoon and evening and around eleven o'clock they had just decided to retire for the night, when Sampson knocked on the study door and entered with a note for Hugh. Puzzled, Hugh slit open the sealed missive and quickly read the contents. His face tightened.

Having dismissed Sampson, he said to John, "It is from Etienne. He writes that he has important news for me, news that will not keep, but that he is afraid to come to the house. I am to meet him at midnight at the company's warehouses."

"It could be a trap," John said, his eyes troubled.

"It no doubt is a trap," Hugh replied grimly, "but if this note is not from Etienne, it is the first time that I have had any direct message from the men who are stealing from us. If only Jasper had not left the city today. I will have to go. It may be the only way I can find out more about them."

"More than likely," John snapped, "you will find out how a broken head feels!"

"Perhaps. But I am not going in blind. I will be ready for treachery, and I will be armed."

"I am going with you. I may not be Jasper, and I may not be a young buck anymore," John muttered, "but I can still shoot and I am handy with my fives."

Hugh hesitated, but the stubborn expression on his stepfather's face stilled any remonstrations. "Very well," Hugh said with a grin. "I shall be happy to have your company."

There was no conversation between the two men as they left the house less than an hour later and made their way to the warehouses. Both were armed, Hugh comforted by the feel of the pair of pistols hidden on his person and the knowledge that John was similarly armed. The knives they both had concealed in their boots added to his sensation of being prepared for whatever might come from this nocturnal visit.

As they drew near their destination, the scent of the river came sharply to their nostrils, and the warehouses loomed up in black bulky shapes against the starlit sky. The flickering glare from the Carondelet lamps which hung from chains on the corner posts at each street intersection lent only fitful light, and As he had already experienced, Hugh was aware of how easily an ambush could be launched from any of the dark alleys.

Approaching the warehouse, Hugh was startled to see that one of the large doors was standing wide-open, clear yellow light spilling out into the darkness. He and John exchanged glances.

"It would seem," John whispered, "that whoever sent you the note is already inside."

"And not hiding that fact either," Hugh retorted.

Cautiously the two men entered the cavernous building. The light came from a lantern which had been left sitting on top of a large crate near the entrance of the warehouse. It was still and silent. Hugh took a dozen or more wary strides into the warehouse before he stopped so suddenly that John, following closely behind, barreled into him. Grimly the two men stared at the scene that lay before them.

At the edge of the dancing yellow light lay the body of a man, scarlet rivulets of what could only be blood radiated outward from the still form. Snatching up the lantern, Hugh brought it closer to the body.

Etienne Gras lay dead on the floor of the warehouse. His throat had been cut, the vicious wound extending nearly from ear to ear. He looked much the same as he had when Hugh had seen him earlier, except now the dark eyes revealed the stark terror of his final moments....