Page 40 of Passion's Wicked Torment

“I heard two of Ironman’s men talking about it! They said a man named . . . oh, what was his name! . . . Terry! A man named Terry killed him and dumped him in the river on Ironman’s orders.” Hunter shook his head. “We know about that ruse. Ironman deliberately spread it. He doesn’t know who the T-man is in his organization. He had Terry spread the word to everyone that Chad is dead so that whoever the T-man is—meaning me—would fall for it.”

Kristin looked confused, but McShane seemed to understand. “He did it so you federal people would call off the search,” McShane said. “If you thought he was dead, you wouldn’t keep looking.”

“That’s right. The heat is really being poured on, and Ironman is beginning to feel it. I’m just part of the search, working from the inside. One of our top Treasury Department agents, a man named Elliot Ness, is coordinating the search from the outside.”

Kristin was hot under the collar and highly irritated. “Why don’t the federal agents just raid Ironman?” she demanded. “Why don’t they search everywhere Chad might be?”

Hunter shook his head. “That’s the surest way there is to get your brother killed. We don’t know where he’s being held. We could raid the places we know he isn’t being held, which wouldn’t do anybody any good. All it would do is force Ironman’s hand. He’d kill your brother for sure, then, so there’d be no chance of us catching him red-handed, with your brother as a live witness to testify against him.”

Hunter paused, debating whether to add anything else. Then he said grimly, “To tell the truth, we don’t even know why he’s kept him alive this long. If they haven’t made him talk by now, they should know they probably never will.” Hunter was almost snarling. “Babe, your brother is going through a lot of hell on my account, to protect my identity. And I’m going to do everything I can to find him and get him away from those cutthroats. So don’t hold me up any longer.” He turned away from her.

“Wait,” she said, going up to him. “I’m coming with you.”

Hunter glowered with surprise and disapproval.

Kristin said to McShane, “You understand, don’t you, Sean?”

“Aye, lassie. A brother is a brother. And I understand something else too.” He went to her and put his hand possessively on her arm. “I’m coming too.” He nodded curtly, showing that this was an indisputable statement of fact.

“Neither of you is coming with me,” Hunter declared.

“Who are you to give me orders?” Kristin asked hotly.

“I’m the man who’s going to save your brother, if you stay the hell out of my way!” His teeth were gritted and his nostrils flaring. “Babe, let’s get this said without pulling any punches. I love you. I want to marry you.

You don’t want to marry me, though, and I can live with that. But I can’t live with you tagging along after me, constantly getting in the way while I’m on a sensitive, highly dangerous mission like this. You’ll get me killed.”

“I won’t get in the way!”

“You’ve done nothing else ever since you butted in, right from the start. You’ll get in the way, all right. And having Santa Claus here tagging along”—he gestured at McShane—“isn’t going to make matters any easier.” McShane came forward threateningly. “Laddie, I’ve had just about enough of you.”

Kristin pulled him back. “But I can help you, Dallas!”

“Yeah? Just like you did the last time you were around me? You’ve done nothing but endanger my life and the entire mission, right from the start.”

“Me? Me endanger your—”

“Did you forget already that Ironman was going to have me killed out of jealousy over you and me?”

Kristin glanced out of the corner of her eye at McShane to see how he was taking it. He was not taking it well.

Hunter continued in a heated, no-nonsense voice. “If you hadn’t butted into the picture, I’d still be in Ironman’s organization. And I’d probably have the mission accomplished by now. But you’ve managed to mess things up for me every single step of the way. First you forced me to take you on as my moll. Then you moved up to Ironman and made lovey-dovey to him so that he got jealous and decided to have me killed. Then, as an encore, you get yourself abducted off to that whorehouse, and I have to spend valuable time tracking you down so I can help you, when I should have been using that time to locate and save your brother!”

Kristin flinched back under his withering glare. She wanted to deny his accusations, however everything he said was true. But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was that Chad was still alive and in danger, and she could not sit idly by and do nothing.

“He’s my brother, Dallas!”

“Then why don’t you do the poor sap a favor and stay out of my way! So I can save him!” He seethed. But then, slowly, as if by an act of will, his expression softened. Kristin realized he did not want to leave her with this last impression of him angry at her. “Look, babe, you’ve got a life here, you said so yourself. You’ve got a man you obviously . . . love. A business. A town. So just stay with it, and let me do what I’m a lot better at doing than you are.”

His eyes went to McShane. “If you really care about her, you’ll keep her here. Don’t let her get mixed up in this. She almost got killed the last time she got mixed up in it.” He swiveled on his heel and left.

Kristin did not follow him. She watched him depart. She was breathing through flared nostrils, her blood coursing through her. Behind her, McShane sighed loudly and sank into a chair. She turned and looked at him challengingly. “Are you going to try to stop me?” He shook his head. “Kristy, lass, I know that I’d lose you if I tried to do that. Besides, he’s your brother.” “That’s right,” she said. “Well, let’s go then.”

“Not so fast. Come here.”

She hesitated. She went over to the chair he was sitting in. He took her hands. “I’m going to teach you a lesson: patience.” She tried to pull away, but he held her. “Take it easy, take it easy. You’re like a young colt. Lassie, I’m trying to help you. Now, here’s what I’m saying. You go off half-cocked like this, with no plan in mind, you’ll do just what your friend said—ruin everything. You’ve got to have a plan. So let’s you and me sit here, calmly and patiently, and work one out. Then we’ll go. At least then we’ll have a chance to succeed.”

Kristin was eager to leave now, to just get on the road and worry about a plan while they were traveling. But she understood McShane’s appreciation of patience. After all, hadn’t he just spent almost a full year waiting patiently for Ambrewster to return so he could avenge his partner’s death?

“All right, Sean. We’ll work out a plan.” She added quickly, “But then we’ll go. And no one—Dallas Hunter included—is going to stop me!”

CHAPTER 22

Several weeks later Kristin and McShane were standing on the deck of a casino ship named the Kristy three miles offshore of New York harbor. The ship had originally been a commerical steamer named the Brenda Dickerson. They had bought it in Quebec after traveling across Canada to find one that suited their needs. After some expensive, elaborate reconditioning, they had steamed it down the coast to its present location.

Now they were addressing part of the crew of their ship in preparation for the grand opening, which was to take place in just a few minutes.

Kristin glanced at McShane. She knew he was concerned, but his expression showed nothing but confidence and strength. He expected violence tonight. He had prepared for it, though, by hiring a motley group of cutthroats and vagabond goldminers who had given up the hope of striking it rich in Canada. In a firm voice, McShane was now giving final orders to his band of assembled brigands. They stood before him in their blue jacketed shipboard uniforms, looking uncomfortable and self-conscious about the unaccustomed attire.

“I want you to keep your handguns close at all times,” McShane was saying to them. “The heavy artillery is in the lockers at strategic locations around the ship. You all know where your own weapon

s are. ...”

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