“Take it down to the brokerage? You mean you’ll be carrying all that money around with you in cash?” Elizabeth asked, horrified anew. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“You worry too much, Miss Perkins,” Thornton said. “I’ll have my boys watching us.”
A frisson of alarm shivered over her. “Your boys?”
“Yes,” he said with that superior grin he always gave her when he was explaining something he thought she was too simple to understand. “I always travel with bodyguards. They’ve been bored these past few days, so they’ll be glad to have something to do.”
? ? ?
Elizabeth had her bag packed, and she’d been pacing her hotel room, looking out the window each time she reached it. Not that she expected to see anything. All she had was a view of the rear of the hotel, where the deliveries came in. They hadn’t wasted money on a better room, since Thornton wasn’t going to be coming to see her here, much as he might want to.
Finally, someone knocked on her door, but it couldn’t be Jake. She’d given him a key. Her apprehension hardened into fear.
“Lizzie, it’s me. Open up!”
She hurried over and opened the door to Coleman. “What’s wrong? Where’s Jake?” she asked as he closed the door behind him.
“You need to get out of here, Lizzie. It came hot and Thornton went wild when Jake told him it blew up.”
“You were supposed to cool him off,” she cried.
“I warned you—when you play it against the wall, there’s no way to cool off the mark. You just get out the best way you can. Thornton slugged Jake, so he ran.”
“You were supposed to hit Jake!”
“I told you, Thornton went wild. He sucker punched the boy before I could do a thing. And when Jake ran, Thornton sent his goons after him. He’s probably going to come looking for you next, so you need to get out of town.”
“But he let you go?”
“Of course. Jake might be a fool, but he knows how to do a switch. Thornton still believes I was conned, too.” Switching a mark’s allegiance from the roper to the inside man was crucial to a successful con, and Elizabeth had to admit that Jake was particularly good at it.
“What about Jake?” she asked, picking up her suitcase.
“Just leave that. I’ll bring it to you in New York with your share of the score. What the . . . ?” he said, looking out the window. Elizabeth hurried over to see. They were on the second floor, so they had a clear view of Thornton’s two bodyguards finally catching Jake near the loading dock of the hotel.
“They’re going to kill him!” she cried as the two men began to beat him.
“I’ll take care of it, Lizzie,” Coleman said, his voice high with terror. “But I can’t save you both. You need to get out of here and go straight to the station. Get yourself on the first train out. It doesn’t matter where. You can get back to New York from any place. Do you need money?”
“No, I—” She cried out as one of the men landed a particularly vicious blow and Jake doubled over.
“Hurry,” Coleman said, pushing her toward the door. “Thornton is probably already trying to get the desk clerk to tell him where your room is. He’ll be here any second.” He grabbed her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. “You’re a woman, and you know they won’t be satisfied with just beating you. Now go.”
He checked the hallway and then sent her out. She didn’t wait for the elevator, instead racing down the stairwell, nearly tripping over her skirts in her frantic haste. She took a deep breath before pushing open the door and entering the busy lobby. She didn’t want to call attention to herself, but she couldn’t resist the urge to at least hurry. She was nearly running when she reached the front door. The doorman had already opened it for her when she heard Thornton call, “Betty!”
She didn’t turn. She didn’t slow. She ran for her life.
CHAPTER TWO
They were coming. She could feel them. She didn’t dare run on the street, but she quickened her pace as she moved down Pennsylvania Avenue. People didn’t hurry here. Washington was a Southern town, not like New York or Chicago. But she needed to hurry. She needed to get away before they caught her.
Damn you, Jake. Damn you to hell.
Which was probably where he was now, unless God was much more forgiving than she had been led to believe.
She’d told him the whole thing was going to curdle, but would he listen? Oh no. What did she know? She was just a twist, and women didn’t know anything about the con. At least Coleman had gotten away. She hoped, anyway. And maybe he could still save Jake.
Maybe.
“There!”
The shout from down the street hit her like a blow between her shoulder blades. They’d seen her. They were coming. As she rounded the corner, she strained to see up ahead. Only another block and she’d be there. She could already see the tall iron fence and the white mansion beyond it, and the women were still there, thank heaven, marching with their purple, white and gold banners. And the police.
She hated the coppers, every last stinking one of them, but she’d never been so happy to see anyone in her life. They were just standing around, though. They couldn’t just stand around. She needed them to act.
The women stood in clusters, a good three dozen of them at least, clutching their gaily colored banners demanding the right to vote and looking nothing like the harridans the newspapers had described. Just a bunch of upstanding ladies in their fashionable coats and ridiculous hats and skirts so rebelliously short you could see the tops of their high-button shoes. The newspapers had described the suffragette riots and the wild women who had to be taken kicking and screaming to jail, but these women merely looked determined. And calm. Much too calm to get themselves arrested.
Elizabeth slowed her pace, acutely aware of the men on her trail, but she had to appear calm, too, so she’d fit in. She joined the closest group of women and tried not to sound breathless or desperate. “What’s happening?”
They looked at her in surprise, three respectable women who saw what they thought was another respectable woman.
“They sent us home,” one of them said.
“Home?”
“The judge told us to go home,” another woman said in disgust. Younger than the others, pale and blonde and not quite pretty, she had blue eyes that burned like the heart of a flame, making up in passion what she lacked in beauty. “But we didn’t go home. We came right back here.”
Elizabeth frowned in confusion. “You were already in court today?”
“Yes, just an hour ago,” the blonde girl said. “They arrested us yesterday. All of us.” She waved to include the rest of the women on the sidewalk in front of the White House. “Someone said this is the largest picket line of our campaign. But they didn’t have room in the jail, so they told us to go home.”