P.J. Alderman - Ghost Ship

“You do want me to solve Michael’s murder, don’t you?” At Hattie’s grudging nod, Jordan added, “Then I need answers.”

Charlotte started sobbing uncontrollably. “If Garrett comes near me again, I simply won’t survive! I can’t bear to see him!”

Jordan looked at her, perplexed. “What do you mean, ‘again’? Has he been coming around Longren House?”

“She means before,” Seavey explained quietly. He moved to place a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “My dear, if Garrett approaches you, you need only to summon me, and I will endeavor to protect you as I did in the past.”

“What are you talking about?” Jordan asked, bewildered.

“Yes, I would like to know the answer to that question myself,” Hattie said firmly. “Charlotte, did Garrett harm you in some way? And if so, why is this the first time I’m hearing of it?”

Charlotte looked at Seavey with pleading eyes.

He sighed. “Very well, I shall explain. It is probably best that it all come to light. Perhaps we should adjourn to the kitchen, where we can be more comfortable while I relate this sordid little tale.”

Unintended Consequences

Cosmopolitan Hotel

August 3, 1893

MICHAEL was awakened by his bodyguard in the early morning hours and informed that unexpected guests awaited him in his sitting room.

Remy’s expression was solemn. “It’s young Mr. Canby, Boss, accompanied by an injured young lady.”

“Please make them comfortable, Remy. I will join them momentarily.” He paused while pulling on his silk dressing gown. “How badly is the young woman hurt?”

“She’s unconscious, Boss. Someone beat her up bad.” Remy hesitated, then leaned closer, lowering his voice. “I believe she’s a soiled dove. One of Mona Starr’s girls?”

“Never mind that,” Seavey replied, knotting the tie of the dressing gown, then sitting down to don the calfskin slippers his bodyguard produced. “Summon Dr. Willoughby immediately.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“And Remy—remain at Willoughby’s and accompany him back to the hotel. I don’t trust the man to respond to my summons without the threat of persuasion. Take care, however, not to injure him—we will need his skills intact this evening.”

His bodyguard nodded, then withdrew silently.

Opening the sitting room door, Michael stopped at the sight that greeted him. Jesse Canby knelt by Michael’s maroon velvet settee, stroking the bruised forehead of Charlotte Walker, who lay unmoving, eyes closed. Her complexion was pale, her gown ripped. Michael thought he could see evidence of some blood spatter on her sleeve.

He closed his eyes briefly. Dear God! As he’d feared, he’d gravely miscalculated.

“Seavey!” Jesse stood to execute an unsteady bow. “I didn’t know where else to turn.”

“This is the work of Sam Garrett?” Michael asked grimly.

“Yes.” Jesse wrung his hands. “I was in the next room when I heard Charlotte’s screams. S’truth, I tried to stop him!”

“Where was Mona’s bodyguard?” Michael asked.

“As soon as Charlotte began screaming, one of the girls ran to fetch him. It took three of us to pull Garrett into the hall. He was in an uncontrollable rage—we were hardly a match for him.”

“Few would be,” Michael said, trying to sooth the agitated young man.

He knelt beside the girl, studying her injuries. His gut tightened. Even with the bruises, her resemblance to Hattie was strong enough to bring forth a familiar rush of grief. He took a moment to steel himself, then continued his perusal.

Charlotte’s breathing appeared to be even, though shallow, as if she was in pain. Broken ribs, perhaps? No oubt at least badly bruised. Garrett had managed to land several blows about her face, even blackening one eye. Even more troubling, Michael suspected the worst of the damage had been inflicted where no one would see the bruises unless they removed her clothing.

He stood and lifted a soft wool throw from the back of the settee, gently covering her with it.

“I’ve sent for Willoughby,” he told Jesse quietly. “If you don’t want your current state of debilitation reported back to your mother, I suggest you vacate the premises immediately.”

“I’m not leaving Charlotte,” Jesse said stoutly. “I’m responsible for her.”

“Your loyalty is admirable but misguided. This attack was directed at me, and rest assured, I will handle it. You may return in the morning to visit Charlotte.”

Jesse swayed on his feet but remained where he was, a stubborn look on his face. “I will have your word that you won’t allow her to leave this suite,” he demanded. “If she returns to the Green Light, I fear she won’t survive another night.”

Michael nodded. “I’m in agreement. She will be safe here. I will post my bodyguards outside her room.”

After several more minutes of reassurances, Michael was able to convince Canby to leave by the back stairs. He returned to pace the suite while he awaited the physician’s arrival.

Garrett had crossed the line when he recklessly committed murder, but this attack was far more reprehensible. Harming a defenseless young woman … Michael simply couldn’t stomach it.

He’d given little thought to the possibility that Garrett might use Charlotte to exact retribution. In truth, he hadn’t believed Garrett possessed the finesse required to come up with such a strategy. And it would have been far more effective to attack Michael directly, or to inflict some form of damage on the Henrietta Dale .

Clearly, Michael had underestimated Garrett’s propensity to commit evil acts.

He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Chapter 16

So Garrett attacked Charlotte because you cut him out of your smuggling business?” Jordan asked.

“Yes,” Seavey answered. He glanced at Hattie, as if to gauge her reaction, then continued. “Garrett had become far too great a liability to remain in my organization. In an earlier meeting, he’d alluded to the fact that he knew Charlotte was Hattie’s sister. I admit that I dismissed his comment, paying no further heed to it.” He sent an apologetic glance to Charlotte. “I will always regret that I caused you pain.”

“I never blamed you, Michael,” Charlotte said. “Indeed, you paid for my physician and kept me safe for as long as you were able.” She turned to Hattie and Jordan. “My injuries, though painful, turned out to be not as severe as Michael had assumed.” She closed her eyes, trembling for a moment before continuing. “Although if Jesse hadn’t summoned Mona’s bodyguards, I quite believe Garrett would have killed me.”

“Possibly,” Jordan agreed. “I’ve talked to the man, and he clearly enjoys violence in all its forms.” She looked at Seavey. “So you kept Charlotte at the hotel while she recovered?”

“Yes, for the next forty-eight hours. Then I felt it wise, since I was leaving town for a full day, that she travel with me.” He paused, then shook his head. “It was the best I could do, and I see now that it wasn’t enough.”

“You can’t be blamed, Michael, for what happened after you died,” Hattie said softly.

From behind them, Frank made a disgusted sound. “On the contrary. His actions directly caused Charlotte’s injuries. Clearly, Garrett planned to use Charlotte as leverage. When one engages in a lifetime of risky and illegal business activities, these types of violent acts are far too commonly the by-product.”

Seavey flinched.

“Garrett was the one to beat me, so he is to blame,” Charlotte stated with vehemence. “Michael was the one who tried to save me!”

Jordan held up her hand. “Can we move on?” Though the events Seavey had related were revealing in terms of Garrett’s character, she still wasn’t any closer to discovering a connection between Garrett and Holt’s killer. “What happened after Jesse brought Charlotte to you?” she asked Seavey.