The lawman met his gaze with one that was the color of a wolf ’s and just as unnerving. “During your association with Renn, he never once talked about San Francisco or why he left?”
“We might have talked a little about his family but not much else.” Come to think of it, Griffin hadn’t offered up much personal information about himself, but they had managed to become friends, anyway.
“You’re sure? He never once mentioned Venton or Reno Dalton? Not even a girl? I find it hard to believe that young men your age wouldn’t talk about girls.”
Griffin arched a brow. “Not one in particular, no.” What did this man think, that he had nothing better to do than sit around chitchatting about girls all day? “I didn’t learn about Dalton until I arrived in Manhattan.”
“Damnation,” Kirby mumbled, rubbing the stubble along his jaw with the palm of his hand. “I suppose he wouldn’t talk about Venton’s murder, not if that’s what he was runnin’ away from.”
Just what sort of information was he after? And was that concern he heard in the man’s tone? Griffin went ahead with the obvious. “Jasper is not a murderer, Mr. Kirby.” He didn’t care what kind of evidence the lawman had. He refused to believe the young man he knew would kill someone in cold blood.
Kirby regarded him for a moment. “Your faith in your friends is admirable, Your Grace. But regardless of that, I want to talk to Renn myself.”
He wouldn’t be much of a lawman if he simply took Griffin’s word for it, and Griffin respected that. But if Kirby wanted information, then he was going to have to share some. “Tell me, Mr. Kirby, what is it that leads you to believe that Jasper murdered this person?”
Kirby hesitated, as though considering his words. Perhaps he decided to trust Griffin, just as Griffin was prepared to trust him. Sometimes a man had to listen to his gut. “Your Grace, I don’t think Renn murdered Mr. Venton.”
“You don’t?”
“No,” Kirby asserted with a shake of his head. His eyes were serious, his expression unguarded. “I believe Venton was killed by a girl named Mei Xing.”
Chapter 11
Finley didn’t get much of a chance to poke around in Dalton’s business. She managed to sneak into his bedroom but found nothing of any interest—not even a safe—except a book filled with stories and pictures that made her face hot and the rest of her feel twitchy. After looking at it, she had a pretty deep suspicion that this was exactly the sort of book her stepfather, Silas, kept in the locked cupboard at the back of his shop.
Once she was done with his room, she moved on to the parlor but didn’t expect to find anything. Anything important—that wasn’t hidden in his bedroom—would be in his study, and that’s where Dalton was at the moment.
Jasper and the others weren’t back yet, so there was nothing for her to do and no one for her to talk to—unless she went to Dalton. She was pretty certain he had Mei with him, and she’d rather swallow live leeches than spend any more time than she had to with that girl.
There was something of a training room set up in what normally would have been a drawing room, on what some of the people around here referred to as the first floor. This was confusing because she was used to calling it the ground floor, which was followed by the first, second and so on. There was a sparring square and a sandbag for punching, along with other equipment to improve physical health and strength. Dalton shared the modern belief that exertion was good not only for the human body but the mind, as well. It was the perfect place for her to go to burn off some of this nervous energy dancing through her veins.
She was already dressed in loose knee-length trousers with lace trim on the hems and a comfortable shirt with a supple leather corset over the top, so she didn’t need to change. She jogged downstairs, her thick-soled boots quiet, and headed straight for the training room.
She began with some stretches to limber up her muscles, then moved on to climbing the rope suspended from the ceiling. When she reached the top, she turned and went back down the rope headfirst, coiling the rope around one of her legs to keep steady. She reached the bottom and was just about to turn around and go back up again when she heard footsteps. She looked up to see Jasper walking toward her. He didn’t have his Stetson on, and the ends of his hair stuck out a bit from where the hat had set.
“Ain’t you just like a monkey,” he remarked with a grin. Finley smiled back. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” “You do that. Want me to hold that for you?” She had moved on to the sandbag, and the extra weight
would make it more difficult for her to move. “Thanks.”
Jasper put himself flush against the leather bag and anchored himself by wrapping his arms partially around it, using his elbows as added security.
A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that they were alone in the room. “Where did you go?” she asked, keeping her voice low just in case.
“Forger,” he replied. “Dalton paid him for three copies of an invitation to the Museum of Science and Invention.”
Finley swung at the bag with her left fist and connected with a solid thwap. “What’s going on there?”
“Don’t know. Little Hank grabbed them from me before I could read the whole thing. But I did see something about it being a gala event. There can’t be too many of those going on, can there?”
“Your reckon is as good as mine,” she allowed, taking another swing. “During the Season, the upper class can get dozens of invitations to similar affairs. However, they’re normally at different places, so no, I don’t think there could be too many galas going on at that museum. I’ll send a message to Griffin later.”
Jasper grunted when she hit the bag so hard it actually moved him back a couple of inches. “You need to tell him we’re going to the Olympia tomorrow night, too.”
“How did you manage to hide a piece of the device in a theater?”
“They were still building it at the time. I got a job on the construction crew.” He leaned into the bag, and this time it didn’t move as much when she hit it. She could send a full-grown man flying with a good punch, but there was no point doing that to the bag—it would only break, and then she’d have hundreds of pounds of sand to clean up.
“Clever.” Another punch. “I’ll let Griffin know. He should be recovered enough by then. Bloody fool’s likely to go even if he isn’t.”
“You never did tell me what happened.”
She’d forgotten that. They hadn’t been alone since she’d returned that morning. Lord, had it only been yesterday that Griffin almost died? “He was attacked at Mr. Tesla’s home.”
Jasper looked startled, but he maintained his hold on the sandbag. “Did Tesla attack him?”
“No,” she replied with a chuckle, despite the seriousness of the situation. “Apparently Griffin saw a shadowlike creature in the Aether, and it was attached to this machine that came ‘alive’ on its own. That’s what attacked him. Sam’s convinced it was a ghost—a mean one.”
“What does Griffin think?”
She threw a left uppercut. “He can’t think of any other explanation, though he’s never seen anything like it before. It hurt him bad, Jas.” She lowered her fists.
Jasper eased his hold on the sandbag and leaned his cheek against the side of it as he looked at her. “You all right?”
Finley shrugged. “Yeah. It was scary seeing him like that.”
“He does come across as somewhat invulnerable, don’t he?” Jasper smiled. “The two of you are like a twister colliding with a mountain.”
There was no need to ask which one of the two she was, Finley thought with a smile.
“I bet His Grace doesn’t like you being around Dalton very much.”
She leaned against the bag, as well. “You mean because Dalton’s so pretty? Maybe. He’d never admit it, though.”
Jasper arched a brow. “I meant because you seem to have a liking for fellas of dubious character. You like being on the wrong side of the law.”
A frown pin
ched between her eyebrows. “I do not like fellows of ‘dubious character.’ And I’m not certain I like being accused of enjoying a life of crime.”
He tilted his head. “Tell me you don’t enjoy it.”
Now, that really would be a lie. “It’s exciting, of course. But so far, being a friend of Griffin’s has been far from dull.”
Jasper watched her with an expression that was either amusement or pity. “You like the adventure and the danger of it, just like I did when I first joined up. It’s fun to do things and not get caught—so long as no one gets hurt. But people do get hurt, Miss Finley. Especially when Dalton’s around.”
“Is that the voice of experience I hear?” she asked with forced levity.
He nodded. “It is. I’ve seen him kill a man just to make a point. I’d hate to ever know that you had become like that.”
“Me, too,” she agreed.
A moment of silence followed. She watched as Jasper frowned, as though contemplating something important in his head. “Miss Finley, there’s something I need to ask you.”
He usually only called her Miss Finley when trying to be charming, so to hear it in this grave tone was just wrong. “You talked to Mei,” she guessed. It was the only explanation for the way he couldn’t quite look at her.
“Did you threaten to throw her out the window?”
Only biting the inside of her mouth kept her from laughing. It sounded so absurd, especially in that slow, melodic accent of his. “Yes. I did.”
Now he looked at her, his green eyes full of hurt and anger. “Why would you do that to someone smaller and weaker than you?”
Instantly defensive, Finley braced her hands on her hips. “She might be small, but there’s nothing weak about her. She’s like a little wild animal that might look cute and sweet but will try to eat your face if you get too close.”
Jasper scowled. “She is not.”
“I didn’t even hurt her,” she added. “All I did was pull her hair a bit and lean her over the windowsill. I wasn’t really going to drop her.” That was only a tiny lie. She would have dropped the little cow if she’d felt she had good enough reason.
“You scared her,” he chastised. “What did she do to deserve that?”
“She came into my room being a proper bitch. When I returned the sentiment, she hit me, and she then made me think that collar of hers was trying to choke her. What do you say to that? You know I could have hurt her if I wanted, and I didn’t. I’m not Dalton.” That was a big part of this, wasn’t it? That he was worried about her getting in so deep with Dalton she wouldn’t be able to find her way out?
“I know.” He looked like a child whose favorite toy was lost. “Why don’t you like her?”
Finley snorted. “I think a better question might be why do you like her so much?”
“You haven’t seen how sweet she can be. It’s hard not to be on edge when your life’s in danger.”
“For a prisoner, she has it pretty good here. Dalton treats her like a doll.”
An angry flush rose in Jasper’s cheeks. “He could kill her whenever he wanted, and he doesn’t even have to touch her.”
“Look, I’m not defending Dalton, all right?” Finley’s own temper was on the rise. “I just don’t like Mei.”
“She’s had a hard life. When I found her, a man named Venton had been trying to force her into prostitution. She and her family hadn’t been in the States long, and they were scared. Mei was so brave. I took her to Donaldina Cameron— she rescues and educates Chinese girls.”
That banked Finley’s anger a little bit. She had been attacked by the son of her previous employer, so she had a little sympathy for the girl. At least Finley had been strong enough to knock the bounder unconscious.
“She never complained about her life. And when Miss Donaldina took in new girls, Mei always helped them. Sometimes she went on dangerous rescue missions by herself.”
All right, now she was starting to feel bad for hanging Mei out the window. “She’s had a tough time of it. I’ll give her that.”
Jasper shook his head. “You don’t understand, because you weren’t there. Mei tried so hard to change things, and she couldn’t. One night, Dalton told Venton where to find her. I didn’t get there in time.”
For one horrifying moment, Finley thought Mei had been raped, but the expression on Jasper’s face didn’t look quite that horrified. It was more like ... regret. Then the pieces all fell into place.
“Jasper, is Venton the man you’re accused of murdering?”
He glanced at her—then away—and nodded. “He is.”
“You didn’t kill him, though, did you?”
He shook his head. “No.”
Mei had. Mei had killed the man who tried to force her into prostitution. No doubt he would have raped her first— men like that tended to be monsters through and through.
Blast it all, but this revelation did a lot to make her feel for Mei. Hell, she almost liked her. Any girl with the stones to defend herself to that degree deserved a little respect. She was just about to say so when she heard the door to the room open.
“There you are.” Dalton’s voice rang through the room with false cheer. “I was looking for the two of you. Jasper, a word, please?”
Jasper didn’t glance at her before he walked away. Finley marveled at his acting ability. Gone was the concerned boy of just a few moments ago, replaced with an edgy young man who could shoot you without so much as a blink.
What was worse was that she knew she often had that same expression on her face, because part of her would do anything to survive. To win.
Blimey. No wonder Jasper was worried about her. Truth be told, she was a little worried herself.
She went back to hitting at the bag but not with much gusto. Her hearing could be very acute when she concentrated, and right now, she wanted to know what Jasper and Dalton were talking about.
“Is everything set for tomorrow night?” Dalton asked.
“Yep,” Jasper replied. “Finley and I will retrieve the piece during the performance so there’s less chance of being seen.”
“Good.” She didn’t have to see Dalton’s face to know that he was pleased. “Once I have the machine assembled and have completed my plan, you and Mei will be free to go.”
“You better not be lying, Dalton.”
“My friend, I can promise you on my mother’s grave that once this is over, you will never see me again.”
Finley frowned. Maybe she was paranoid, but that sounded more like a threat than a promise. Surely Jasper had to suspect that, as well.
“What are you doing in here, anyway?” Dalton asked him. “What were the two of you talking about?”
Finley lifted her head and turned. “Oy, cowboy.”
Both Jasper and Dalton looked at her just as Mei entered the room. Wonderful. The more the merrier. Whoever said that should be made to swallow their own teeth.
“I thought we were going to spar? I’m restless and need to hit something. Your pretty face ought to do.”
Jasper gave her a dubious look—the sort he should give a person he didn’t know well who was asking him to fight. “All right.” Then to Dalton, “Unless you have some kind of objection?”
Dalton smiled that feline smile of his. “Of course not. In fact, I think I’ll watch.”
Of course he would. Finley didn’t care. At least Jasper didn’t have to answer him, and she didn’t have to try and make nice with Mei, for whom she now had conflicting feelings.
She was even more glad she’d worn the loose trousers as she climbed into the square. They made it easier to kick and move. Jasper was fast—blur fast—and she needed every advantage she could, if he decided to use that speed.
She needn’t have worried. As soon as Jasper joined her, and they took a few swings at one another, it became obvious he wasn’t going to use his abilities against her—not because she was a girl, though. She knew that for certain. It was because he didn’t want Dalton
to see what he could do—how fast he had become.
They had just begun to find their rhythm—Finley’s muscles grew warm and languid beneath her skin—when the formerly demure Mei began encouraging Jasper. Not just encouraging but instructing him. Instructing him how to put the most hurt into Finley.
“Why aren’t you breaking free?” Mei yelled when Finley got him in a particular hold. “You know how to escape.”
Finley grinned at her. “Maybe he likes it.” Then she released Jasper and danced away, never taking her eyes off the other girl. “You seem to know a lot about fighting. Would you like to take Jasper’s place?” She might have some sympathy for the girl, but it was obvious the feeling wasn’t mutual.
“Yes,” the girl replied with a flash of anticipation in her dark eyes.
Jasper hesitated. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
But it was Dalton who took Mei by the arm and stopped her progress. “Sorry, ladies, but I cannot allow Mei to risk sporting bruises at the theater tomorrow.” He gave the Chinese girl an intense glance, but she didn’t look away. “Finley will heal. Won’t you, Finley?”
She had deliberately allowed him to see how fast she healed, so there was no point in denying it. “That’s right.” She couldn’t resist adding, “I could always hit her from the neck down.”
For a second, Finley thought Mei was going to jerk free of Dalton’s grip and leap over the rope. Instead Mei looked from Jasper to Dalton and shook her head.
Oddly enough, Finley was strangely disappointed. At least if Mei came at her, she would have to really fight. Mei would want to hurt her, while Jasper was more concerned with making certain his enhanced speed didn’t become apparent to Dalton. Where was Sam when she needed him? She wanted an opponent who would make her work for her victory.
It really didn’t say much for her character—at least she didn’t think it did—that violence sometimes soothed her in a way nothing else could. Only Griffin had ever managed it—something to do with her “aura” and the Aetheric plane. She didn’t quite understand it and she didn’t need to. For all his bossiness and infuriating tendency to be right, Griffin had become her anchor; the only person she trusted enough to let down her guard around.