Her explanation could fit, and if Monroe was close enough to overhear Clemens—
“Did you say Clemens was there?”
“Yes, and I suspect him as much as I do Marcus. He’s the one who stepped in when Mr. and Mrs. Keaton tried to abduct me, which means he had to be following me.” She huffed. “He even had the gall to suggest more ‘poetic’ ways to kill me. According to him, it was to buy time for the police to arrive, but there is nothing like hearing someone plan your death while you’re forced toward an alley.”
Her shudder and subsequent curling against her father had Abraham fisting his hands. Lydia might be a dime novelist with an unsettling interest in the macabre, but no one should be subjected to such conversation. Whether Poe or not, when Abraham next saw Clemens, he was going to have a few words to share about inappropriate stall tactics.
Dr. Pelton frowned. “How did he know you’re staying here?”
Even though her head remained against Dr. Pelton’s shoulder, her eyes rolled in annoyed melodrama. “He’s a reporter. He has eyes everywhere. I’d like to poke his eyes out, especially since he made a point to say he was keeping them on me in particular. I don’t care if he thinks I’m the story of the century; it’s unnerving.”
Clemens’s interest in Lydia was definitely more than the story called for, but pitiful if that was all it truly was. “Given we still have twenty years to go, he must be anticipating a pretty uneventful career.”
She chuckled at that, and the accompanying smile eased some of the fear that had taken hold of her countenance.
Dr. Pelton was far less amused. “In the morning, I’m demanding a restraining order.”
Even Dr. Pelton wouldn’t be successful at getting one of those. “You don’t have enough to prove he’s a threat and worthy of such an order, but I’ll speak to Clemens and make it clear he is to keep his distance.”
“A lot of good that will do if he’s Billy Poe.” Lydia’s whole body deflated.
Abraham grasped her hand. “You are not alone in this. Between your family, me, and Detective Lawson, you will be safe. Finding Poe is my top priority, and I won’t rest until he’s arrested and convicted.”
Lydia’s face took on a shine that mirrored Clara’s after reading a heroic rescue. That it was directed at him should have made him run from the room. Instead, it made him wish she would write him as the hero not just of her story but of her life.
Dr. Pelton coughed before sending a meaningful look toward Abraham’s and Lydia’s clasped hands.
Abraham pulled away quickly. Speaking with Lydia was a maze of obstacles and traps. If Abraham wasn’t careful, he might find himself facing a future with a former criminal as his wife.
The fact that the thought brought a smile and not a frown unsettled him all the more.
CHAPTER20
AFTER TWO HOURS OF TRACKINGdown two of the four potential victims, Abraham was so weary he could feel the ache in his bones. He leaned his head back against the hack’s frame and closed his eyes. With the breeze cooling his face and the semi-comfortable position, he could sleep until next week. Unfortunately he couldn’t spare even a hack ride’s worth. He still had to meet with Lawson to confirm all four potential victims were accounted for, safe, and warned. Abraham forced himself upright and angled so the door handle regularly jabbed his side. At least another hour, maybe two, lay ahead before he could collapse into his bed.
With any luck, Lawson’s two potential victims had been more cooperative than Abraham’s. Kimball Sullivan had mistaken Abraham for a moneymonger he owed, and had taken off. Abraham could have let him go, but he’d pursued the man instead. Better to be winded and tired than to have a man die because Abraham hadn’t done his job to the fullest of his ability. After a lengthy chase, he’d finally collared Sullivan. The ungrateful brute had landed a decent punch before Abraham got him pinned to a wall and managed to convince the man that he was an officer. With a shrug, Sullivan had said he had bigger problems than a crazy vigilante whomightbe after him, and then disappeared down an alley. Considering Sullivan owed Weidel the Short a considerable amount of money, it probably was in his best interest to leave town and take care of two threats with one move.
Wesley Xavier had been only slightly better. He’d been deep in a bar brawl when Abraham found him. After breaking up the fight and enduring a few more well-aimed fists, Abraham had hauled him to the nearest station. At least the man would spend the night protected by a jail cell. Once arraigned in the morning for disorderly conduct, it would be up to Xavier to take Abraham’s advice and lie low or continue visiting his favorite haunts for Poe to find him.
All too soon, the hack stopped in front of the McManus Boardinghouse, where Lawson lived. Abraham hated knocking after midnight, but with the door locked, he had no choice. It took several rounds of pounding, but eventually, grumbles came from the other side.
The door opened to a spindly man in a housecoat that swallowed all his features but the fierce scowl. “What do you want?”
“I’m here for Lawson.”
“He has his own entrance so I don’t have to deal with this.” He gruffly directed Abraham down the side alley to access the back entrance to the apartment at the top of the three-story building.
A door with three different locks met Abraham at the top of the stairs. Lawson certainly took preventing break-ins more seriously than any other officer Abraham knew. Then again, Lawson had been on the force longer than most and had probably had lots of experiences that reinforced his vigilance. Lawson answered the door with wet hair, clean clothes, and a grin that turned into a grimace when Abraham mentioned waking Mr. McManus.
“Sorry about that. I should have warned you that I have a separate entrance.” Lawson methodically secured the locks. “After too many middle-of-the-night interruptions from officers needing to speak to me, McManus cleared out the attic and refitted it for my use—at a higher rent, of course.”
Abraham glanced around the open space.
The kitchen was a decent size compared to most apartments Abraham had visited, even if it did share the floor with a large round table with the remnants of an abandoned card game. The place could benefit from a good cleanup. A faint rotten odor tainted the air, probably from the overfull waste bin. When Abraham left, he’d do the man a favor and toss it onto the pile in the alley waiting for sanitation. On the opposite side of the room, two plush chairs framed a large bookshelf filled with the bright orange covers of dime novels intermixed with more reputable titles. The only indication the man might have a family was a photo of Lawson with a teen girl hanging on the wall.
“Not bad for a bachelor, eh? Since I never had a missus, I turned the extra bedroom into an office so I can continue working after my shift.”
“If you’ve never married, who’s the young woman with you in the photo?”
