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Millie bustled about, moving another tin filled with pins stuck into cushions, and placed cups and saucers on the table. A small plate of cookies joined the dishes.
Hunter pushed the cup of tea aside and leaned his forearms on the table. “Mrs. Smith is in a great deal of trouble. Her husband is violent and has used his fists on her before.” He studied her for a moment. “I hope this doesn’t shock you.”
She smiled sadly. “No. It doesn’t. I never knew if it was that bad, but I suspected as much. A dressmaker sees a lot. Old bruises tell tales, Mr. Henderson.”
Knowing she was on his side, he drew a deep breath and sat back. “I met Mrs. Smith when she moved to Guthrie several months back. I was unaware of her married state. We became . . . close.”
He watched her face for disapproval, but found none, so he continued. “I have only honorable intentions toward her. But before we can do anything I must get her away from her husband and safely residing with my family back in Oklahoma Territory.”
“She is very lucky to have you, Mr. Henderson. I have worried about her for quite some time.” She pursed her lips. “Despite Mr. Smith being well known in Galveston, I have had enough contact with him to know he is not what he pretends to be. And then there were the bruises.”
“Yes. And there is much more to the story, but that isn’t relevant to why I’m here today.”
She took a sip of her tea and regarded him over the rim of the cup. “Yes?”
“I would like to leave a message of some kind with you to give to Mrs. Smith. I’m sure there are times when the two of you are alone.”
“Of course. I have a dressing screen I use when there is someone else accompanying my client for a fitting.”
His original plan to pass a few notes back and forth to make arrangements for her departure went out the window at this news. His gut tightened with excitement. “And the dressing screen is portable?”
“Yes.”
“Is it possible for you to move the screen in front of the door?” He nodded in the direction of the flowery curtain separating the store from the back area.
“I could do that.” She smiled. “I understand. Mrs. Smith goes behind the screen to change, and then leaves through the back door.” She tapped her lips with her index finger. “I think that could work.”
“There is a problem, however,” he said.
“What?”
“When her driver discovers she is gone he could cause some trouble for you.”
She waved her hand in dismissal. “Perhaps. But I am sure he will be much more concerned with trying to explain her disappearance to Mr. Smith.”
“Then you will do it?”
“Normally I would never come between a woman and her husband, but in this case I fear for her as well. He is a brutal man, that Mr. Smith. And Mrs. Smith is so lovely and sweet. She deserves better.” She sat back and grinned. “Tuesday she will have a surprise when she comes for her fitting.”
Hunter stood. “Thank you so much.” Feeling much better than he had when he entered, he strode through the store and out the front just as two women entered. His mind busy with his plan, he tugged on the brim of his Stetson and went on his way.
Monday night Hunter met Jeremy at the Café again. If everything went right, he and Emily would be leaving Galveston tomorrow. He needed to go over his plans with Jeremy so he could carry on the investigation while Hunter was gone.
They shook hands and he took a seat across from Jeremy, who didn’t really look much better than the last time Hunter had seen him. But at this point he needed the man’s expertise and presence in Galveston, so it was best to overlook the morphine problem for now.
“Have you eaten?” Hunter asked.
“Yeah. I’ve been here for a while.”
Noting the absence of dirty dishes in front of him, Hunter dismissed his lie and focused on what was important right now.
“Tomorrow Emily and I are leaving Galveston.”
Jeremy nodded for him to continue.
“I worked it out with Millie, the owner of the dress shop where Emily goes every Tuesday. Millie has agreed to help since she knows the danger Emily is in right now. She apparently has seen some bruises and has had some concerns for a while.”
“What a bastard, to take his hands to a woman.”
