keeps this place going while you two run off to New Orleans to drink and whore and gamble and steal. I’ll not do your dirty work, Terrance. I’ll not do anyone’s dirty work anymore.”
“You’re a big talker, Maddie, but I know you’ll do whatever I say because we’re family. We’re all that’s left of the tribe.” He softened his tone, held out his hand, almost pleading. “Come on, Mad. You took the same oath we did. You pledged your loyalty.”
She knew he was just using the past to try to move her. He was loyal only to himself. She was just a means to an end.
“Those days are gone, Terrance. The tribe I pledged loyalty to has disbanded. All that’s left is the three of us. I won’t be part of that again.”
“Think of how much easier your life would be with some money for a change.”
“Not like this,” she warned. “Not by kidnapping an innocent child.”
“We could all move back to New Orleans, to the old place.”
“I won’t go back. I like it here.”
His expression darkened instantly. He touched the handle of the knife sheathed on his hip, but she refused to back down and met his cold stare.
“You’d hate for anything to happen to her, wouldn’t you, Mad?”
She stared at him in disbelief. Was it an idle threat, or could he possibly be serious? “Even you wouldn’t stoop so low as to murder a child, would you?”
Silent seconds ticked by as they stared at one another across the shadows.
“Don’t test me, Maddie. Just do as I say.”
“Fine,” she said grudgingly. “I’ll look after her.”
Across the room, Lawrence was already snoring like a bear.
“Then turn out the light and get some sleep,” he ordered. “Mornin’ will come sooner than you know. Me and Lawrence will be headin’ back to the city to wait for word. Hopefully her folks will offer a reward soon. The longer we keep the girl hidden, the more likely the amount will go up.”
Maddie glanced at the dark-haired child asleep on her cot. She didn’t mind sharing the narrow bed with a little one. She’d done it often enough with her own, but this time both her heart and soul protested. She’d hoped she was done living on the wrong side of the law. She didn’t want to survive this way anymore.
Especially not like this. Not by stealing a child.
CHAPTER 2
P inkerton agent Tom Abbott left his rented, sparsely furnished rooms in the French Quarter and made his way across the narrow cobblestone drive in the courtyard below. He passed through the open iron gates and walked along streets filled with noise and motion, the clatter of carriage wheels on cobblestone, ribald shouts, and high-pitched laughter. The occasional gunshot punctuated by strains of music drifted on the night air. New Orleans was a city that never slept, and because of his profession Tom was no stranger to long days and late nights.
He pulled his collar up and his hat down as he made his way toward Royal Street. He had dressed in worn clothing so nondescript as to render him nearly invisible as he moved through the dangerous streets of the city. He pushed back his brown wool jacket out of habit to expose the holstered Colt riding his hip. New Orleans boasted one of the highest murder rates in the country; a wise man took advantage of the law that made it legal to openly carry a gun or a knife.
When he neared Jackson Square, he slowed his pace and paused in the shadows of the imposing St. Louis Cathedral. Across the street from the huge church, a quartet of missionaries had set up an outdoor soup kitchen. There was a piece of pine tacked over the door of an empty storefront with the words
Jesus Is Your Savior
handlettered in white paint. Outside the open door, two long planks of wood rested on sawhorses — a makeshift table for the small knot of the city’s destitute who had gathered for a bowl of soup and a crust of bread.
Tom studied the missionaries carefully before he approached them. An elderly woman dressed entirely in somber gray