Flora's Wish by Kathleen Y'Barbo Page A

eating at him. Failing that, he placed one hand on his revolver, pounded twice, and then called, “Flora Brimm, open the door this minute.”
    That did the trick, for in far less than a minute the woman he’d once thought of as Blue Eyes opened the door. “Must you make a scene, Mr. McMinn? Hurry and get in here before anyone sees you,” she said as she stepped back to allow him to enter.
    He glanced around at the marble fireplace where a fire burned bright. To the right was a corridor that led to a bedchamber. From this vantage point Lucas spied a canopy bed with curtains matching the ones on the parlor windows. Behind those curtains he could just make out a pile of neatly stacked pillows. A carpet embroidered with roses crossed the distance from the bed to where he stood, marching past to end at another door down the hallway to the left.
    Tucker could be behind that door. Or he could be watching from the other chamber. A second cursory glance around the parlor revealed no place for him to hide other than possibly behind the drapes. Palming the revolver, he walked over to snatch them back.
    Satisfied the criminal wasn’t hiding in the window hangings, he moved carefully toward the open bedchamber door. The room was decidedly feminine, as were the belongings strewn across the bed and lined up in colorful jars and containers across the dressing table.
    A plumed hat sat atop a tall dresser. Beneath the windows, which had been thrown open to allow the fresh breeze to ruffle the curtains, was a chair that held a Bible. Numerous slips of paper, as well as a pink ribbon, looked to serve as bookmarks.
    Something about the ribbon seemed familiar, so he picked up the Bible and found the spot where it lay. As he ran his hand down the length of the pink fabric, he recalled Miss Brimm capturing one just like this off of Will Tucker’s window ledge.
    In his line of work there were no coincidences. And Tucker’s room being one floor below was certainly not by chance.
    â€œJust how close are you and Mr. Tucker?” He replaced the bookmark and set the Bible back in place and then peered out at the ledge. While there was no physical evidence of a connection between the two rooms, Miss Brimm had already exhibited her ability to ignore heights to stroll on a ledge. Perhaps she had taught that same skill to the scoundrel.
    Or learned it from him.
    â€œThis is my private bedchamber, Mr. McMinn,” she said, her voice high and strung tight. “Not only is it quite improper that you’re in here, but your presence is also an invasion of privacy.”
    He affected an amused look, though the thought of Flora Brimm and Will Tucker in collusion made him feel anything but entertained. “You’re not going to answer my question? That in itself is an answer, Miss Brimm.”
    â€œNot at all. I am merely demanding that we hold this conversation elsewhere.”
    Lucas ignored her to search behind the curtains and under the bed. Nothing but an errant shoe was hidden there. Straightening, he nearly collided with his hostess.
    â€œTruly, sir, what are you doing?”
    He nodded toward the bed. “Finding a lost shoe, apparently,” he said as he went past her to move quietly back down the hall and across the parlor toward the second bedchamber.
    Holding his revolver at the ready, Lucas turned the knob. The door slid open on noiseless hinges to reveal a limited view of a room similar to the other.
    Unlike the other chamber, however, the curtains had been pulled tight to shut out the sun. The result was a room set in shadows, but a space that did not hide Will Tucker, he determined after throwing open the curtains and conducting another thorough search.
    Stepping back into the hall, he shut the door and returned to the parlor.
    â€œAll right,” Miss Brimm said. “If you’re satisfied that we’re alone, let’s get this over with.”
    He swung his attention to her as she