“Until Deirdre stole the jewels.”
Anger twisted his face. “Deirdre knew that I would never let her have them, so she waited until I was busy with the high-noon show one day, and then she swiped them. By the time I realized what she’d done, Deirdre had already left the resort. I tried to track her down, but she kept moving from one of her fancy apartments to the next. And of course she wouldn’t return any of my phone calls. The next thing I know, she’s announcing the treasure hunt, and Roxy and Brody are here, kicking me out of my own office and taking control of everything.”
Ira’s body stilled, and his dark hazel gaze drifted up to a framed photo on the fireplace mantel that showed Sweet Sally Sue wearing a saloon-girl dress, all decked out in her jewelry. I recognized it as the same photo that was in the display case in the hotel lobby.
“I couldn’t believe that Deirdre would disrespect Sweet Sally Sue’s memory like that, but I should have known better,” he said in a bitter voice. “I should have protected her legacy better.”
“You loved her, didn’t you? That’s why you stayed here all these years, even after Roxy and Brody came in and took over.”
Ira nodded and started rocking in his chair again. “Sweet Sally Sue took me in when I had nothing. She was like the mother that I never had, and this was my home. It will always be my home.”
I understood his sentiments all too well, since I felt the exact same way about Fletcher and the Pork Pit. Despite all the bad things that had happened in the restaurant, including Fletcher’s murder, it was my home, and it always would be. Even more than that, it was the legacy that the old man had left me, and I would defend it to my dying breath, the same way that Ira had been trying to keep Bullet Pointe going for all these years, despite Deirdre’s best efforts to run it into the ground.
Ira quit rocking and looked at me. “I’ve been following Tucker around all day, wondering what he was up to. I heard him talking to Roxy about you and your friends and all the trouble you’ve caused for him up in Ashland. Is it true? That you’re some kind of assassin who wants him dead?”
“Absolutely.”
I told Ira a condensed version of my history with Tucker, including all the things he’d said about my mother being part of the Circle. “Have you ever heard of them? Did Deirdre ever say anything to you about some group called the Circle?”
Ira shook his head. “Sorry, but I’ve never heard of any Circle. And Tucker didn’t always come down here with the same people.”
“What about Eira Snow? Have you ever heard of her?” I held my breath, hoping, hoping, hoping. . . .
He shook his head again. “Sorry, but that name doesn’t ring a bell.” He waved his hand at all the photos on the walls. “A lot of people come through here every year. I can’t keep track of them all.”
It had been a total long shot, that my mother had been here once upon a time and that Ira would remember her out of all the thousands of visitors, but disappointment washed over me all the same. Another dead end.
Still, it wasn’t his fault, so I forced myself to smile at him and gestured at the cabin walls. “I’ve been wondering about your photos. I noticed them in your office. They’re quite stunning, especially the scenic shots of the hotel, park, and lake.”
For the first time since I’d met him, a genuine smile lit up the dwarf’s face, softening his perpetual scowl. “Sweet Sally Sue gave me a camera the very first Christmas that I was here. I’ve been taking pictures ever since.” He glanced around at the photos, his gaze moving from one frame to the next. “Bullet Pointe might be a business, but I like seeing people so happy in the park and hotel. I like taking shots of their memories. It makes me happy to see them having a good time. It means more to me than the money.”
I nodded. I felt the same way about the food I served at the Pork Pit. Seeing the enjoyment that other folks got out of my cooking always put a smile on my face. I liked brightening someone’s day, even if it was just in the small way of fixing them a good, hearty meal. Ira and I were more alike than I would have thought possible.
“Thank you for saving me. For sticking your neck out for me. Not many people would have done that.”
Ira waved his hand, dismissing my thanks. “What was I supposed to do? Let you lay outside and slowly freeze to death?”
I grinned. “Well, I still appreciate it all the same.”
As much as I was enjoying sitting here by the warm flames and talking to the dwarf, I stopped rocking and got to my feet. Because time was ticking away, and I needed to get the jewels and figure out how to save my friends before Tucker tortured and killed them.
“What are you going to do now?” Ira asked.
“Go back up to the hotel. That’s where the jewels are.”
He shook his head. “You’ll never make it. Roxy and Brody have everyone looking for you. And you can’t get out of the park or the hotel either. They’ve got all the exits blocked.” He waved his hand again. “And it won’t be too long before they get the bright idea to come here and look for you.”
“Don’t worry. I’m leaving. I’m not going to put you in any more danger. You’ve done enough for me already.”
His weathered face creased into another rare grin. “Darling, I don’t care about the danger. Helping you and thumbing my nose at Roxy and Brody is the most fun I’ve had in months. But I’m not about to send you out there to get yourself shot up again.”
“What do you mean?”
“You need a disguise, just like you told your friend on the phone.”
Ira got to his feet and disappeared into his bedroom. Some clangs and bangs sounded, as though he was rustling around in his closet. He came out a minute later holding up a wire hanger that featured an old-fashioned saloon-girl dress wrapped in clear plastic. Unlike the cheap costumes the performers wore, I could tell that this was the real deal, made of expensive silk, lace, and crinoline.
“This belonged to Sweet Sally Sue herself.” Ira smiled at the dress and the memories it brought back. “She was a spitfire, just like you are, and I think that she’d like you wearing it. Especially if it will help you kick Tucker, Roxy, and Brody out of here for good.”
I hesitated. I didn’t want to wear the dress for fear of ruining it, and Ira’s memories along with it, but he was right. I couldn’t go outside as Gin Blanco, the outlaw that everyone was searching for. I needed a disguise, and I wasn’t about to look this gift horse in the mouth.
“I’m honored.” I took the dress from him.
I held out the garment, and a smile spread across my face as I realized what shade it was.
Bloodred. Always my color.
* * *
Ira’s cabin might have been relatively tidy, but he had a small shed out back that was just as messy as his hotel office. But instead of stacks of papers, the shed was filled to the brim with all sorts of odds and ends, including shoes, makeup, and even some wigs that the performers had discarded. I grabbed a few things for my disguise, then went back into his bedroom to get ready.
The first thing I had to do was put on a corset.
Seriously, a real, old-fashioned corset complete with whalebones to give it—and me—that classic hourglass shape. The frilly thing was covered with tons of black lace, and it took me a lot of time and a whole lot of effort to shimmy into it. The only saving grace was that the black ribbons laced up the front, instead of the back, but I still cursed whoever had invented such a foul, uncomfortable contraption.
Next up was Sweet Sally Sue’s dress. The stiff black crinoline underskirt made the top layers of bloodred silk poof out all around my legs, making me feel like a human bell. On the plus side, the dress had long sleeves that hid the white bandage on my upper left arm, as well as two deep pockets for me to carry my knives. I tucked my other three knives into the garter belt and stockings that went with the dress.
Black shoes with square, chu
nky heels and ankle straps were next, along with a pair of fingerless, black lace gloves that made the spider rune scars in my palms itch. I also stuffed my spider rune necklace down into my corseted bodice and tied a black velvet ribbon with a red cameo around my throat.
Once my clothes were in place, I donned a blond wig with the long hair done in fat ringlet curls, powdered my face, and painted my lips the same bloodred as the dress. For the final touch, I stuck a small black beauty mark on my left cheek, close to my lips to draw attention away from my eyes, whose gray color I couldn’t change.
I looked and felt ridiculous, and I didn’t see how the performers endured these costumes day after day during their eight-hour shifts. I’d only had the dress on for ten minutes and I already wanted to tear it off, starting with the corset. It was too bad Finn wasn’t here. He would have been cackling with glee at my misery.
The thought of him, Bria, and Owen made my stomach tighten with worry again. Time to get on with things. So I left the bedroom and stepped back out into the main part of the cabin where Ira was sitting in his rocking chair by the fireplace again.
I twirled around for his inspection. “Well? What do you think?”
Ira looked over at me and did a double take. He blinked and blinked, then frowned, studying me carefully.
“What? Did I get lipstick on my teeth or something?”
Ira shook his head. “Nothing like that. You just . . . look like a lady that I remember photographing a long time ago.”
“I thought you couldn’t remember the names of everyone you photographed.”
He shrugged. “Not their names, but I never forget a face.”
He got up out of his rocking chair and wandered around the cabin, staring at all the pictures on the walls, searching for the one he wanted. He stopped and shook his head a minute later. “I’m not sure where that photo is. It might be in my office in the hotel.”
“Well, maybe I’ll duck in there and try to find it,” I joked. “If I don’t get killed before then.”
A distinct possibility since it was just little ole me against Tucker, Roxy, Brody, and all their men.
“You get up to the hotel and get those stones,” Ira said. “I’ll mosey around the park and see what information I can pick up about Tucker and his plans. Then, when it’s time, I’ll head over to the main entrance and keep a watch out for that annoying Silvio fella.”
I nodded. I’d told Ira that this was my fight, not his, but the dwarf had insisted that this was his home, and if he could help boot Roxy and Brody out of it for good, then he’d do whatever he could to help. So this was the plan we’d come up with. I didn’t want Ira around if Tucker and the others did get their hooks in me, and having the dwarf watch out for Silvio would hopefully help my assistant and whomever else he’d managed to round up in Ashland slip into the park unnoticed.
“All right, then.” I headed for the front door. “Wish me luck.”
Ira gave me a knowing look. “Oh, I think you’re the type who makes her own luck.”
“Nah.” I grinned. “I just make people dead.”
19
Ira’s cabin stood off by itself in a patch of woods that overlooked the lake. He followed me out of the cabin, locking it up behind him, and we went our separate ways. He headed for the main theme-park entrance to see what he could find out from the other workers, while I took a trail that led back out to the staging area, staying hidden behind a screen of trees.
It must have been time for some late-afternoon show because the staging area was full of folks changing into cowboy and gambler costumes, slapping on wigs and makeup, and making sure that their fake weapons were full of blanks. I looked around, but I didn’t see Roxy or Brody anywhere, although I did spot several of their outlaw-gang giants, getting ready along with everyone else. But the performers had this down to a science, and the staging area emptied out about five minutes later, as everyone rushed to take their places for the show.
When I was sure that the area was deserted, I slid out from behind a tree and hurried through the wooden pavilions, wanting to get back out to the relative safety of the Main Street crowds as fast as possible. I’d just passed the back door of the Good Tyme Saloon when something unexpected on a nearby bulletin board caught my eye.
A Wanted poster with my picture on it.
I stopped and went over for a closer look, wondering if my eyes were playing tricks on me. But they weren’t. A grainy black-and-white photo of me that looked like it had been taken from a security camera inside the hotel took up most of the poster, while the word Wanted arched across the top in that old-timey Western font that was on everything around here. Gin Blanco was also done in the same type, curving under my glamour shot, along with the promise of a thousand-dollar reward for any confirmed sightings of me in the hotel or the theme park. Well, that was a bit insulting. You’d think that I’d be worth at least five grand—dead or alive.
My own poster. I grinned. Just what I’d always wanted.
I couldn’t help myself. I carefully took the poster down off the bulletin board, rolled it up, and stuck it into one of my dress pockets.
* * *
I left the staging area behind and made it through the alley and back out to Main Street. At the far end of the street, down in front of the visitor bleachers, cowboys, gamblers, saloon girls, and other costumed characters were dancing to some old-timey, upbeat country-western music and putting on what looked like an elaborate square dance. I didn’t see Roxy or Brody among the performers, though. They were probably still combing the park for me or were maybe even stationed up at the hotel, waiting for me to try to rescue my friends.
The music rose to a roaring crescendo for the big finale, with all the performers yelling, whooping, and throwing their hats up into the air. The crowd surged to its feet, cheering and clapping, and all the performers took a bow. The crowd streamed down the bleachers, and all the costumed characters stepped up to meet them, sign autographs, and pose for pictures. Well, that show had certainly gone a lot smoother than the other two that I’d loused up this weekend.
It was now or never, so I drew in a breath and stepped out onto the wooden sidewalk. I smiled at the people I passed, just another worker playing her part, even as every step took me closer and closer to the hotel and the jewels—
“Hey! You there!” a loud voice called out behind me. “You in the red dress!”
I tensed. Well, that was definitely me. Damn. I’d hoped to at least get away from the saloon and closer to the hotel before someone stopped and questioned me. But it would look more suspicious if I ran, so I slowly turned around and plastered a smile on my face.
“Yes?”
Brody Dalton jogged up to me. I slid my hand into my dress pocket, my fingers curling around the silverstone knife inside, ready to whip out the blade, ram it into the giant’s throat, pick up my skirts, and run, run, run.
Brody stopped, his cheeks flushed from the cold. He must not have had time to visit that Air healer again because his nose was still a red, broken, lumpy knot in his face from Tucker’s beating. Good.
“What do you think you’re doing, making me walk all the way over here?” he snapped. “You should have come over to me the second that I yelled at you. Don’t you know who I am?”
Even though I wanted to punch him in the face, I ducked my head in apology. “I’m so sorry, sir. I just didn’t hear you at first above all the crowd noise.”
Brody gave me a suspicious look, like he didn’t believe me, but apparently he had other things to worry about. He raised his hand, and I realized that he was holding a thick stack of papers. He peeled a sheet off the top and shoved it into my free hand. It was a copy of my Wanted poster.
“Here. Carry this with you at all times,” he snapped again. “And if you see this woman, you text Roxy or me immediately with her location. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” I ducked my head again, as though I were studying my own picture. “What did she do?”
“She’s a shoplifter and a pickpocket, among other things,” the giant growled. “Now get out there and mingle like you’re supposed to, and keep a sharp eye out for this one.”
I bobbed my head at him. “Yes, sir. I’ll get right on that.”
Brody gave me another suspicious look, probably because of my syrupy-sweet tone, but he huffed, whirled around, and stomped away. I watched him for a few seconds, but all he did was stop every worker he passed, shove one of my Wanted posters at them, and demand that they be on the lookout for me.
The giant hadn’t realized that he’d had me within arm’s reach. He was going to pay for that later. I would make sure of it.
But right now, I had two jobs—get the jewels and find out where Finn, Bria, and Owen were being held. So I rolled up my second Wanted poster and slipped it inside my pocket right next to the first one. Then I upped the wattage on my smile, turned around, and melted into the crowd of tourists.
* * *
It took me thirty minutes to work my way from Main Street up the hill to the hotel, mostly because people kept stopping me and asking me to pose for pictures. I hated every single second of it, but it was my job as an unofficial Bullet Pointe saloon girl, and I didn’t want any of the tourists complaining and drawing unwanted attention to me. So I batted my lashes, swished my skirts, and smiled for all the photos. By the time I reached the hotel, my cheeks were aching from holding on to my fake sunny expression for so long.
I slipped into the lobby and stopped, wondering if I would stand out more here than I had in the theme park, but my saloon-girl dress was close enough to the ones that the hotel waitresses wore for me to pass muster. An empty silver tray was sitting on the corner of the bar, and I casually walked over and swiped it when the bartender’s back was turned. People with empty trays always looked like they had places to be, and no one gave me a second glance as I strolled across the lobby, despite the loud click-click-click-click of my heels on the stone floor.