Love and Glory: The Coltrane Saga, Book 3 (42 page)

“Then why did he end it?”

Alaina gave her head a toss, sending her curls dancing. “We had a lovers’ spat. That happens, you know!” Her eyes narrowed. “But then how would
you
know? You married the only man who ever came to court you. And there hasn’t been another. What do you know of romance? Donald never struck me as the kind to set a woman on fire.”

Marilee stared out the window, determined not to let Alaina get to her.

Rosa, on the other hand, exploded. “Miz Alaina, that’s a terrible thing to say to yo’ sister, ’specially after what she went through last night. Lost in the storm. Wanderin’ around all night tryin’ to find her way home. Now you just hush up that kind of talk. You got a mean tongue.”

Alaina lifted her chin. “Perhaps it was mean, but it is true. No one can understand the feelings I have for Travis Coltrane.”

“Well, it don’t make no never mind,” Rosa quickly told her, “cause yo’ daddy done put his foot down and said you ain’t
 
seein’ him no mo’. And you told me the marshal won’t gonna see you no mo’. So you just stop actin’ like a baby. You got plenty menfolks what wants to court you without gettin’ mixed up with somebody yo’ daddy don’t like.”

Alaina glared at her, furious. “And I thought you were my friend, Rosa.”

Rosa shrugged. “Sometimes friends has to tell you when you doin’ wrong. I only do it ’cause I love you, and I hate to see you hurt y’self and hurt yo’ sister just ’cause you finally run up on a man you can’t wrap around yo’ little finger.”

Alaina sniffed. “Maybe I’ll just go ahead and marry Stewart Mason and move out of this wretched house. Then I won’t have to put up with either of you anymore.”

Marilee could not help but laugh, “You aren’t that stupid. Stewart doesn’t mean a thing to you. You’ve only led him along because Father pushed him on you. So why don’t we stop all this nonsensical talk and let me get dressed?”

Alaina turned toward the door with a swish of her skirt. “You’ll see!” she said tremulously. “Both of you will see!” She left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Marilee reached for the cream-colored taffeta morning dress and pulled it over her head. Soon she was ready to face her father.

He was waiting in his study, tight-lipped and grim. After a quick embrace, he settled into his high-backed leather chair, lit a cigar, and commanded, “All right. Tell me what you were doing out in that blasted storm last night. I want to hear the whole story.”

Her heart pounded as she looked at him, struggling to remain calm. Dear Lord, why did he have to be involved in the Klan? Her own father!

His fist pounded the desk, causing her to jump. “Damn it, girl. I’m getting sick and tired of my daughters gallivanting around the countryside at all hours of the night.”

She told him the story she had rehearsed, about wanting to get some fresh air before going to bed, about the storm, and about her horse bolting in fear.

“I’m still angry with that stupid nigra, Rosa. Why she waited till almost 3:00 A.M. to wake me and tell me you were gone, I’ll never know. Said she fell asleep!” He grunted. “How could she sleep knowing you were out there in that goddamn storm?”

Marilee closed her eyes. Rosa assumed she was still out on Klan business. She had been instructed never, ever to report Marilee missing until the last possible moment. She surmised that, to Rosa, three o’clock in the morning had been the last possible moment.

“It’s bad enough,” his voice rose, “that Alaina has all the gossips wagging over her little escapades into town at night to see that damned marshal. I don’t know what’s come over that girl or what kind of power that man holds over her. I’ve a mind to sic the Klan on him and teach him a lesson. He’s a fool if he thinks…”

His voice trailed off as he saw the expression on Marilee’s face. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you looking at me like that?”

She folded her hands in her lap and stared at them. “Could you do that, Father? Could you send the Klan after someone?”

“Well, of course,” he replied, sputtering. “I have connections.

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Your connections.”
Damn,
she cursed herself silently,
why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut?

He bounced back instantly. “What are you talking about? Afraid of what? What are you trying to say?”

She took a deep breath, searched wildly for the right words, then plunged ahead. “I’m afraid you have too many connections, Father. I don’t want to see you in trouble.”

“Now wait a damn minute!” He rose swiftly from his chair and rushed around the desk to tower above her. She continued to stare down at her clasped hands as he continued his tirade. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I will not stand for it. Of course I have connections. I have connections with everything that goes on in this county, perhaps in the whole goddamn state. But that does not mean I am directly involved in, or responsible for, what goes on. Do I make myself clear?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. She had known it would be like this if she ever tried to talk to him about it. Father could not be reasoned with. Not now. Not ever. She whispered, “If the law ever breaks the Klan, and you are involved in the slightest way, you could go to prison.”

He chuckled. “Do you think I’m that stupid, girl? Do you think I have become one of the richest and most powerful men in the state of Kentucky by being an idiot? I don’t know what has caused you to entertain these worries, but I suggest that—”

Loud pounding on the door interrupted him. Before he could call out, Stewart Mason rushed in. “I heard you found her,” he cried, then saw Marilee. His face turned the color of flour. He worked his lips silently for a few seconds before choking out the words, “How…how are you?”

It sounded ridiculous, even to her, but she kept her composure despite the loathing she felt for him. “I’m fine, Stewart, thank you.”

He looked terrified, and she struggled to restrain a smile as she recounted the same story she had just given her father. “So you see?” she ended brightly. “It was just an unfortunate evening, but thank heavens, I’m all right.”

He cocked his head to one side, as though waiting for her to begin screaming the truth. It was obvious his mind was churning with questions. How had she escaped? Where was Tom Higgins? Why was she lying about what had really happened? And most of all, did she know he was involved?

To her father, she said, “I understand that Willis is missing. You don’t suppose the Klan had anything to do with his disappearance, do you?”

His lip curled back in a snarl as he shouted, “Don’t concern yourself with nigras and keep your nose out of Klan business. Now get out of here. Mason and I have things to discuss.”

She stood slowly, blinking. Hurt from his outburst washed over her. He fumbled impatiently with papers on his desk, ignoring her. Stewart watched her every move. Realizing there was nothing to do but leave, she hurried from the study.

But she did not go upstairs. She turned quickly toward the sewing room. Whatever the two were about to discuss, she was determined to hear it.

Once inside the secret passageway, it was with great effort that she forced herself to move slowly, lest there be a sound to expose her. She could hear her father’s muffled voice. Little did he know that she stood inside the wall, listening to everything.

“…time has come to stop him once and for all!” he was saying. “That beating you and the others gave him didn’t do a damn bit of good. It only served to make him all the more determined. Now you tell me that Willis disappeared last night, just before the Klan was going to tar and feather him for taking Alaina into town to meet the sonofabitch. That’s not good. Not good at all. There’s a spy around, and I’ve got suspicions that Coltrane is behind it all. I’ve got too much at stake, Mason. So have you.”

Mason replied sharply, “Hell, yes. He’s turned Alaina’s head, taken her away from me.”

“He hasn’t taken her away, you fool,” he said in disgust. “Turned her head a bit, maybe, but he hasn’t taken her away, and he won’t. I’m tired of his interfering in my business and interfering with my family. I want him dead, Mason!”

Marilee could not suppress her gasp of horror.

“What was that?” her father asked suddenly, alarm in his tone.

“I didn’t hear anything.” Stewart shrugged. “Hell, I tried to tell you weeks ago we should go ahead and kill him and Bucher. There’s no telling how much they know. I told you Coltrane’s been seen slipping around here at night, but I figured he was coming to meet Alaina.”

“I think he was. He can’t know much or he would have moved by now. But I don’t like the way nigras keep escaping. I’m afraid Coltrane knows more than he’s letting on. The safest thing to do is kill him and be done with it.”

Marilee pressed her hands to her trembling lips. She pressed closer to the wall, swiped at a cobweb, and shuddered as a spider scurried over her hand. No time to be female and scream. Travis had to be warned, and the only way to warn him was to hear their plan.

Bitter bile rose in her throat along with the reality of just how ruthless her father really was. Was this cold man really her father? She forced herself back to their conversation. This was not the time to go to pieces.

She heard her father say, “It must look like an accident. The Klan mustn’t be implicated. That would only mean more trouble with the law. It’s one thing to kill nigras and another to kill federal marshals.”

“What if the niggers kill them?” Stewart said triumphantly.

There was a pause, then, “How do you propose to arrange that?”

“Simple. We think we’ve located that troublemaker, Munroe. Now, everybody knows what a rabble-rouser he’s been. We’ll kill Coltrane and Bucher and make it look like Munroe did it. We’ll say they were going to arrest Munroe and he shot them. Then some good, God-fearing citizens happened along, and the nigger tried to run, and the good citizens shot him as he was trying to escape. More lawmen come in to investigate, and all they’ll do is sympathize with us and our problem with the uppity, trouble-making niggers. It’ll make us look good, and we’ll be left clean. And no more Coltrane and Bucher.”

He sounded quite proud. “Congratulations, Mason. That’s about the best idea you’ve ever come up with. Who knows? One day you just might be smart enough to run things by yourself.”

Mason sounded bitter. “Everybody thinks I do already.”

“Well, we know different, don’t we?” Her father chuckled. “When do you think you can locate this Munroe? I’d like to get them out of the way as soon as possible. I’ll rest easier once it’s done, and I also won’t have to worry about the gossip about Alaina.”

“I want that more than you do,” Mason snarled. “I’ll know by midafternoon if we’ve got our hands on Munroe. The only thing is, Bucher’s got a busted leg and he’s laid up. I hate to set things up in town. It’s risky. But that’s the only way we can get both of ’em.”

“No, you fool. That’s asking for more trouble. Set it up wherever you locate Munroe. I don’t care where that is. Have someone Coltrane won’t suspect of being involved get a message to him that the Klan is about to hang a nigra. He’ll come running. Then you can ambush him and kill the nigra.

“As for Marshal Bucher,” he continued matter-of-factly, “just have someone quietly persuade him to go with them, once Coltrane has headed out of town. When you get him to the scene, shoot him, too. It would be too risky to kill him in town. Of course, all of this is going to take place well after dark.”

Good Lord, thought Marilee, how could he sound so methodical, so pitiless? She heard the sound of a cabinet opening, the tinkling of glasses. They were having a drink. She thought of leaving at that very moment to run and warn Travis, but dared not. There might be more. She could not chance missing anything.

“You should have key people in the Klan in public places tonight,” her father went on brusquely. “That way, anyone suspected of being involved with the Klan will have an alibi. You are going to have to leave the killings to the ‘drones.’ That means you can’t be involved, either. Make sure you’re at the saloon, playing cards. Be sure you are seen by plenty of people.”

“Boss, I can’t do that. If I take all our leaders and leave the job to the ordinary Klan members, there’s sure to be a slipup. Plus, you’re involving a lot of people who shouldn’t know what’s going on. The more who know, the worse the chances of keeping it a secret. Why, some of those stupid bastards would even brag about having a hand in killing the marshals. We can’t risk that.”

Silence. The sound of her father’s sigh. “All right. You will have to do it. I will lock myself here in the study tonight. As soon as it’s over, report to me. I will leave a side door unlocked so you can slip in. If anything happens, I will swear that you were with me all evening. But just you make sure nothing goes wrong, damn it,”
he warned.

“Don’t worry,” Mason laughed. “I’ve been looking forward to this too long to make any mistakes.”

“Good. Soon all we’ll have to worry about is whether or not there actually is a spy within the Klan. I’d hate to think we have neighbors who would betray us.”

Marilee drew in her breath and held it. What was Mason thinking at that moment?

“We’ll look into that, boss. You can be sure of it,” she heard Mason respond. “Right now, let’s just get through tonight.”

The sound of a rapping on the door startled the men and Jordan called out irritably, “Yes, who is it? I asked that I not be disturbed.”