Flora's Wish by Kathleen Y'Barbo Page B

walked toward him, her wrist extended. Oh, but she was pretty. A man less inclined to recall her association with the outlaw Will Tucker might have allowed that beauty to sway him.
    Not Lucas.
    He shrugged off any thought of the woman’s exterior and considered instead the request she was making. “Not just yet,” he said as he stepped past her to walk toward the windows. “You have a mighty fine view of things from up here, Miss Brimm.”
    He turned to face her and found her staring, hands on her hips and the lone handcuff glittering beneath the wagon-sized crystal chandelier that marked the center of the parlor ceiling. She looked madder than a wet hen, not that he could blame her.
    Still, he reminded himself, this was Tucker’s woman. And whether it was in name only or some kind of setup concocted by the two of them, she was still tied to the man Lucas had vowed to hunt down.
    â€œHe’s not here, but I have a reason to believe Tucker hasn’t left town yet.” He waited for her reaction and saw that her expression didn’t change. Either she’d known it or she had suspicioned it. “You don’t look surprised.”
    She shook her head as she crossed her arms over her waist. “I could have told you he wasn’t here, so no, I’m not surprised.”
    Lucas found the nearest seat and made himself comfortable. After giving her just enough time to start fussing again, he looked up at her, schooling his features so that she could not guess his thoughts.
    â€œAll right, Miss Brimm,” he said in his best country boy drawl. “I’m going to ignore your obviously deceptive response. Instead, I am just going to ask once more. Where is he?”
    Her face went red and her fists clenched. Lucas was completely sure if she’d been holding something, she would have already thrown it at him. Instead, her eyes narrowed and her breath heaved.
    â€œHonestly, I wish I knew, but I don’t.”
    Though he didn’t want to believe her, Lucas’s gut instinct told him she was telling the truth. “Any idea why he might have hightailed it out of here?”
    â€œAnything I say would just be a guess.”
    â€œThen guess.”
    Flora looked beyond him a moment as if she might be chewing on an idea. “All right,” she said as she swung her gaze to meet his again. “In his line of work, he is often called away on short notice. I assume that is what has happened here.”
    â€œAssume,” he repeated. “But you don’t know this for sure?”
    She shook her head. “No, but if you really did hear any of our earlier conversation, you would know he promised to go to his room and stay there until tomorrow morning.”
    â€œAnd that wasn’t some kind of code for—”
    â€œMr. McMinn, really! Do I look like some sort of spy? It wasn’t code for anything.”
    He’d met his fair share of spies, and though he’d never tell her this, she would have made a fine one. No man in his right mind would believe that a woman with her looks and class would ever be anything more than she professed.
    â€œFair enough. And what line of work is he in?”
    â€œIt’s not for me to say,” she replied demurely.
    â€œEven if it meant you were impeding an ongoing investigation?”
    She sighed. “He works for the railroad.”
    A plausible response. From what he had gathered, Tucker tended to pick his women from stops easily accessible by railroad or steamboat. “What does he do for the railroad?”
    â€œI would prefer he be the one to tell you.”
    Lucas watched as the expression on the woman’s face softened. If she knew anything incriminating about Will Tucker, she gave little indication of it.
    He shifted positions just enough to allow a good view of both the door and a reflection of the windows in the mirror over the fireplace. Either were possible points of entry—or exit.