Page 63 of Fairest of Heart

A light entered her dull eyes, and she stood a little straighter. “I’ll think on it, Mr. Kingsley.”

“Good. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

She shooed him away, and he didn’t stop until he found Alfred Billings. Unfortunately, the stage manager wasn’t in the mood to be helpful.

“This is not a good time, Kingsley.”

Titus ignored the man’s scowl and dropped a hand on top of the papers he was busy shuffling, forcing the man to look him in the eye.

“I need to know where Madame LaBelle went.”

The man blew out a disgruntled breath. “You and me both. She just up and left in the middle of an engagement with no warning. Very unprofessional. She refused to tell me where she was going, just said she had to get away for a couple of weeks, get her mind right. Left me no choice but to refund ticket sales and cut payroll for a month. I’ll be surprised if we even have a troupe by the time she returns.”

“What about Hunt?”

Please, God. Give me something to work with. Some clue to follow.

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Billings knocked Titus’s hand away from his papers, then dug something out from the bottom of the pile. An envelope with Titus’s name written across the front in a looping, decorative hand. “Here.” He shoved the envelope at him, then reached inside his coat and extracted a small pouch. He handed that to Titus as well. “Narci left these for you. Said the note would explain everything.”

Reeling slightly, Titus stepped from the office and out into the front of the house where he took a seat in a theater chair. He opened the pouch and found a handful of misshapen balls. Nuggets, really. Gold nuggets. Although, a few silver ones glittered in the collection as well. From the settings? He knew the jewels had been removed. He’d seen the ruby. They must have melted down the gold and silver settings after prying the jewels free. Smart way to keep them from being identified as the stolen pieces. Made them easier to sell, too. But why would Madame LaBelle leave this evidence behind and turn it over to him?

Titus opened the envelope and pulled out a sheet of ivory stationery, scented lightly with perfume. He wrinkled his nose at the artificial scent as he opened the letter.

Ranger Kingsley,

I could not get our meeting out of my head. Nor could I continue to ignore the growing suspicions I harbored about a man I once thought above reproach. You see, there was one set of belongings you didn’t search in their entirety when you were here last. One of our stagehands, Cecil Hunt, was away when you visited. Cecil has developed a bit of a tendre for me, I’m embarrassed to say, and he has been acting more and more possessive of late. He dislikes me spending time with our male patrons, and I have caught him looking at them in a predatory manner. When he returned after your visit, I stole into his room and searched his saddlebags. I found this pouch and knew at once that he must be behind the thefts, taking valued items from the men I showed attention to and disfiguring those items with fire. His mind is unhinged. I fear for my safety. That’s why I have sent him away and removed myself from the limelight for a time. I must fortify my nerves.

Below, you will find the address of the place I believe he will go. He has friends there who will take him in. I won’t feel safe until you have him behind bars, Mr. Kingsley, so please hurry. Lock him up before he does something worse than take jewelry and melt it into scarred remains.

I will watch the papers for news of his arrest and will know when it is safe to emerge. May God bless you in your duty, my courageous Ranger. My life is in your hands.

Narcissa LaBelle

The woman thought to throw him off the scent by handing him a scapegoat. But what she didn’t realize was that she’d also handed him the means to turn that goat against her. Once Titus showed Hunt this letter, there was no way he’d continue to protect his lover. Not if he had a shred of self-respect.

Titus memorized the Fort Worth address that she’d printed at the bottom of the stationery, then headed for the depot. He had another train to catch.

27

Penelope had intended to get up early enough to see Titus off and to keep Rowdy from escaping the house without her, but she’d failed on both counts. By the time she dragged herself out of bed, the sun had fully emerged, and Coy had breakfast nearly finished. The men tiptoed around the kitchen, speaking in whispers instead of their usual boisterous banter until Dusty let out one of his window-rattling sneezes.

“Achoo!”

“Now you done it,” Jeb groused. “No one can sleep through that cannon fire.”

Dusty unfurled a handkerchief and held it to his nose. “Sorry. It snuck up on me.”

“Snuck up on you? How do you not feel a lit gunpowder fuse winding through your—”

“Good morning!” Penelope stepped into the room before Jeb set off an explosion of his own. “Sorry to be such a slugabed.” She made her way to the cabinet and pulled down plates, trying to assuage her guilt by lending Coy a helping hand. “I meant to be up with the sun, but I didn’t hear the rooster.”

“That’s ’cause Dusty shot him with his nose cannon.” This from a snickering Angus.

Good-natured chuckles warmed the room. Even Dusty grinned.

“Next time you’re hankering for a chicken dinner,” he said, “just let me know. I got plenty of ammunition.”

“Lord knows that’s the truth.” The heat in Jeb’s gaze eased into a teasing light, and the tension drained from the room.