Liberty House Read online

  She took a deep breath and prayed, she opened the doors and it felt like stepping back in time. She couldn’t believe she was doing this again. Even to find out what Maverick was doing. Her body went stiff, and she turned into the spy she was. Her emotions shut off.

  When her eyes got used to the dim light, she spotted him in the middle of the room at a table, playing cards, he had a young, blond behind him. The harlot had her hand on his shoulder. He was dressed in a fine suit. She started over there, knowing all eyes were on her.

  Maverick spotted her when she was halfway in, his eyes showed no guilt, just a little surprise. He stood up and leaned close without touching her, he whispered, “Trust me. Be quiet.”

  When they turned back to the crowd, a man at the table asked, “Mr. Keith, who is this?”

  “Y’all meet my wife, Josefina,” he said, his hand tight around her.

  A group of hoots and hollers followed. The man who looked in charge asked, “Does she know why you’re here?”

  “What she doesn’t know is none of her business. She’s my woman. She doesn't need to know a thing.” Maverick nodded to a big, dark man in the corner. Izzy couldn’t see his face until he stepped into the light and then saw Andrew. Though it was hard to tell under all the hair on his face, and his long, black hair made him look almost black or at least dark Mexican. He was also dressed nicely, spoke of real wealth. When he was close, Maverick told him to take her to the room. Then turned his attention to her. “You go with him and don’t make a fuss, woman.” His eyes were hard on her, his voice firm.

  “Well, you know who controls that house,” a man commented.

  Izzy knew how to play this game. Maverick had a lot to answer for. “Yes, sir,” she said in her most Spanish accent. She hung her head and followed Andrew.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Maverick hated to do this to Izzy, but he had no choice. Suddenly, he noticed a man’s hand going to touch Izzy. He instantly pulled his gun. He saw Izzy go still and stepped closer to Andrew. “Stop right there. You touch her, you’ll have a bullet hole in ya.”

  “I was just going to enjoy her a little. She’s a beauty. A little too dark, but a looker. Is one of these places where you found her?” The man asked, with a sly smile on his face.

  It made his stomach hurt, “You’re not to touch her,” he repeated.

  “Bud, if you know anything, no one messes with a man and his woman,” Mr. Wilier said. Then chuckled, “No matter how many women.”

  Andrew took her back to the room, no one else trying anything. He hated how the men looked at her. Like she was property, they could take, use, and then throw away. They didn’t treat her like she was even a human. He knew Izzy had been treated worse than an animal. This place was making him sick. He saw Bessie and thought of needing to be done. Finish the job and you’re done. He smiled at the vile man across from him. “Well, Mr. Wilier, after that whore is gone from us, should we finish our deal?”

  Izzy was sitting in a chair in the small room. Andrew had said nothing since entering the room. She knew how it worked. She closed her eyes as the memories were threatening to overtake her. She prayed the shakes would stay away.

  “Are you alright, Izzy?” Andrew asked in a very cultured voice, no hint of a southern accent.

  She nodded; both knew she wasn’t alright.

  Just then, Maverick walked in, pulling the harlot behind him. He shoved her in a chair, none too gently, then slammed the door. “Jones, is everything ready?”

  Andrew nodded.

  Izzy knew they had to act like they were buying the girls to work them for more prostitution. If either man was caught, they could be killed. She decided to play her part. She had done it for years and enjoyed doing it really. Until that night. She shook her head. This wasn’t about that night. She walked up to Maverick, keeping her distance so he didn’t touch her. “Please, Keith, don’t do this again,” she pleaded in her Spanish accent. “Let her go.”

  Maverick looked at her with such contempt. “Get out of my way, woman.”

  Izzy hung her head and nodded.

  “Jones, you take Red Lips to the brothel.” Maverick ground his teeth. “I will take care of my woman.”

  Maverick almost smiled, Izzy knew how to play this part well. He could tell by her eyes she knew what he was doing. He was glad for that. He opened the door again. Andrew grabbed Bessie’s arm and walked out first.

  Maverick followed with Izzy following and told Andrew in a commanding voice, “Take the wretch back to the brothel. You hear me, boy.”

  Andrew hurried out in silence. Maverick walked slower to draw more attention to him than Andrew. He ignored the comments that came out of the vile men. The looks the men gave her. He wished he could protect her from hearing and seeing this. He could from the men's vile touch.

  The men all backed up and made a path so he could leave. Before he left, he said, “Remember, no messes with the Striker.”

  Maverick walked out, knowing Izzy was still behind him hanging her head. Oh, she was good. He had heard all of what she had done. He was proud of her. He also knew she was in shock to know he was Striker. He continued to walk and let her follow if anyone saw them. They would see a man mistreating his woman. He found the house, he just walked right in. He finally turned to face her. “Would you like to sit in the parlor for a moment?”

  All she did was a nod.

  He almost took her arm, but just walked into the light parlor. He sat on the sofa while she sat in a chair. His maid came in. “Mr. Starry, would you like something to eat, sir?”

  “I would. Thank you, May.”

  The maid looked at Izzy. “Would you like something, miss?”

  “No, thank you,” Izzy said softly.

  May nodded, turned back to Maverick. “I’ll be back with your meal.”

  When May left, he waited for Izzy to talk first.

  She looked at her hands, then asked softly, “Where will Red Lips go?”

  “Her name is Bessie. She will go to Liberty House then to a safe house,” Maverick answered.

  “Does anyone know what you do?”

  He shook his head and responded, “No one besides Ellen. Not even Katrina knows, only to keep her safe.”

  Izzy looked up, her eyes guarded, “You were framed for Lucia's and Sophia's murder? Why?”

  He shrugged. Before he had time to answer, May came back with coffee. She set the tray down before she left, Maverick asked her to hold dinner. He sat back like he had the whole night to talk. “I own the House. May was one of the rescue girls. She was rescued at age sixteen and raised by a family and when she came of age, she wanted to help me, so she came working for me. I’m not here much, but there is almost always a family in need living here, so it works out.”

  Andrew walked in and sat on the other side of the couch. He nodded to Izzy and then to Maverick. Izzy knew that look well, all had gone well and on plan. Andrew looked like he was going to stay. Izzy felt comfortable with him as she did Maverick. Her eyes were light as she looked at him. “You pull that look off very well.”

  Andrew smiled. “Once I walked right past Katrina and she never knew.”

  “I expected you to come out.”

  Maverick raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t think it was another brother?”

  Izzy shook her head, “Nah, every brother is smart, but don’t got the brains of you two.” No other brother had the skill to do it. She turned serious and asked. “What made you decide to do this?”

  He was silent. It was never easy to talk about it. “Her name’s Clara.” He paused. “She was my half-sister.”

  Izzy stayed silent.

  “You see, we have more in common than you think,” he said. “You changed your last name. I changed my full name; it was Landis Lucas Jr.” He didn't look at her-he didn't want to see her shock, then pity. He continued, “I grew up rich, to say the least, and wasn’t around my sister very often growing up, but I loved her. I tried to be around when I could, but it wasn
’t often. I didn’t really know her, but when I saw her, she looked hard and got harder every time I saw her. I was getting harder too, so I didn’t know any different. When I was nearly fourteen, I came home to find my sister bleeding. Heavy bleeding, too much for a girl. Andrew ran to get the doctor, but he wouldn’t come since it was for her,” he said bitterly. “Andrew brought Ellen to us, and she stayed with us the whole time. Katrina looked through the door but didn’t go in. Ellen forbid her to come in. I knew the reason why. She lived one more night and passed away that morning,” He cleared his throat. “Men took her and used her for their lust. She got a disease and had been with too many men that night to make her bleed like that. Our Pa had sold her. Like a cheap doll. I promised my Clara, I would help others like her that didn’t get a choice in the matter. I have kept that promise by helping girls like her. I will do it ‘till the day I die. It helps with the pain to know I am doing something good for the girls.”

  “You are doing so much good.” He met her gaze. “Why were you blamed for Lucia and Sophia’s murder?”

  “I’m not sure, honestly. I’ve been blamed for other things as well, but this has to be the worst.”

  “Who you think is the murder?”

  Maverick sighed, “Honestly, I think it is the men. It is the way they work, but I don’t understand why. They have been after us but never killed before, except for the kidnapping, of course.”

  Izzy looked at him with compassion, “Thank you for being honest with me and for telling me your sister’s story.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Ellen looked at all her adult children sitting in the parlor, she hadn't told her younger children what was wrong with her. It was too soon, too bad. She was still in shock herself. She never thought she would hear this news in her life, she thought she would just be gone one day.

  Tommy looked about to be sick.

  The others seemed nervous, sitting there. Cole and the twins were there; they had become like family. She had come to care for Izzy very much. She was a doll at heart and had saved her already.

  Matt spoke up, "What is this about, Ellen?"

  "Well, I've been sick for a while now. I just hid it from y’all. Then the other night, I had an unusually bad spell, some of the girls noticed but the children did not," she paused and took Owen's hand, "Dr. Plain said I have Bright Disease and Diabetes."

  Tommy gasped.

  "What is that?" Maverick asked.

  Ellen’s tears ran down her face, she couldn't talk.

  Owen looked angry.

  Izzy spoke up, "Bright Disease is a disease of the kidney. It causes heart issues and high breathing. There are treatments, but most do not work when you have diabetes with it. It’ll take her kidney and liver until it doesn't work anymore..."

  Ellen nodded, "I got about two or three months."

  They all stared in shock, Maverick spoke up, "You can get some treatment. I’m sure of it. We will get another opinion. Doc never liked us; he is lying." He didn't know what he was saying anymore. "You will get better."

  Ellen hated what she was doing to her children. They had been through so much pain already. This just wasn't right. They needed her.

  Tommy shook her head. "No, I can't believe it. There has to be a cure. It has to be something we can do."

  Ellen was shaking, she couldn't do this. It hurt too much to see the pain in her children's eyes. She hadn't even told her young children.

  Jesse stood up and went over to the window. He turned to Ellen. “I believe in a Loving God, but does He hate us? What have we done to lose Missy, Ben, and now you?” He walked over to her and knelt at her feet, taking her hands. “Let's just pray for healin’. If we pray, work harder, serve God, you’ll be healed. Missy and Ben were gone so fast we couldn't do enough for them. With you, we have. You can't die,” he told her hopefully, “It's not right. You’re too young.”

  “No, you’re too young, my boy,” Ellen told him as she patted his head. “God doesn't work that way, Son. He wants to call me home. He needs me.”

  Jesse shook his head. “No, no. I need you, Ma. I need you.”

  Her children didn’t call her Ma often. It was a testament to his love for her at that moment. “I love you more than life itself and if I could stay on this earth for you, I would live a hundred years. That’s not what God has planned for your life or mine. I’ll see you again and we’ll spend eternity together.”

  Jesse shook his head in disbelief, then laid it in her lap and sobbed like a little boy. The rest of the room wept with him, all crying for a mother they weren't yet ready to lose.

  Cole didn't want to talk about the case at the moment, but he had an idea how to make it end. He walked into the sheriff's office to find Maverick sitting in his desk, staring at nothing. He had tears running down his face.

  He felt so bad for the family. He wanted to hug Tommy and make all her problems go away, but he couldn't. How he wanted to have that power.

  Maverick looked up and wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. “Oh, sorry. I didn't hear you,” he said, standing. “I was just thinkin’ about some things.”

  A bad sign, but Cole understood very well. Although he had no warning when his loved ones had died. He walked over and hugged Maverick, he tried to pull away, but Cole held on. "You need to let it out, brother."

  Maverick suddenly hugged Cole tight and sobbed. He cried out in sobs that came right from his soul. ”I can’t lose her.” He was losing the mother that he still needed.

  Cole held him as he cried and mourned his mother. For Maverick, mourning his mother would be different. He wouldn’t see her again. He had no hope. "I am so sorry, man."

  Maverick finally pulled himself together. He wiped his eyes, looking like he hadn’t slept since they found out. He washed his face in the bowl, then sat back down. "What's up?"

  Cole spoke first. "Maverick, answer me honestly," he paused, "Is Striker after Tommy?"

  He shook his head. "No."

  "Then who?"

  "Honestly, I don’t think the ones who killed your friends are after Tommy either."

  "So, I don’t have to worry about that,” Cole responded then said, "I’ve got an idea. I’ve been goin’ over these dates to deal with the kidnapping and this is what I’ve come up with."

  Cole sat down and looked over the paper he drew up. "I have been looking over the attacks, and I think the man will be coming on the day of the kidnapping."

  Maverick looked over it, "Yeah, but it has never worked in the past. When we wait for him, he never shows up."

  “That's the thing, Maverick. I think whoever it is, always finds out when y'all are waiting. I think only Andrew, Matt, and Sawyer should know about it."

  "And not tell the others?” All the men had always been in on it.

  "Just trust me, I think this would be best. It's one man that does the message. I think we can take him alone."

  Maverick nodded. "Deal. We don't tell Tommy either. Why get her hopes up if it fails again."

  Cole agreed and prayed this would work.

  Tommy had not cried since hearing the news about Ellen, and she wouldn't. To her, crying made it real. It meant that she really was losing her mother. Tommy sat furiously, looking at the painting she had just done. She didn’t realize how ugly and dark it was. It was supposed to be her dying, not Ellen. It had been so long since the men were after her. She should be dead or poisoned or sick. But Ellen, who had never done any wrong, was the one dying. She still couldn't get Jesse's tears out of her head, the despair on Maverick 's face.

  She remained hard and unfeeling.

  Sam walked in, sat next to her on the chair, looked at the painting, then looked at her.

  Tommy ignored him.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Sam asked gently.

  She shook her head.

  “Fine with me, but my guess is it’s too hard of a topic to talk to family about. I ain't family. Want to talk?” He repeated.

  Tommy stood up and walked over t
o the window. She shook, folded her arms and asked bitterly, “How can a Holy God tolerate such evil? Why allow such pain to good people? Why so much suffering?”

  Sam sighed. “That’s a hard question. I been tryin’ to answer it for years and it never gets easier. I think we look at suffering as bad, but even God suffered on the Cross and He was a holy and perfect Man. Suffering brings us to the end of ourselves, we don't have control over the things that happen in this world. Suffering is an opportunity to draw closer to God, to seek His help and strength, to develop our trust in Him, to build a more intimate relationship with Him.”

  Tommy looked at him, fury in her eyes, her face red, her jaw tight. “I deserve what God gives me. I deserve to suffer, but my family doesn't. Ellen and Owen, along with their friends, Missy and Ben, have been wonderful parents. They took us in and loved all nine of us like their own.”

  She closed her eyes, then looked at him. “We just found out their Uncle Frank has been abusin’ the four older children. They’re innocent little children who didn’t know the evils of life. Didn't have to know what we orphans felt at the hands of men. If that ain't bad enough, their father doesn't believe them.” She took her paintbrush and stabbed at Owen’s face, forcing the brush right through the painting.

  “I wanna know what kinda God would let Ellen's little children be hurt when she’s done nothin’ but good servin’ Him. She took His lost children in. She fed so many orphans durin’ the war. She helps whoever she can, and she’s hurt anyway!” she yelled. “The worst part is that two days ago, we found out Ellen’s gonna die. She ain’t never done nothin’ wrong to deserve to die, yet she’s dyin’. Why would God take her from her children? From us?” She covered her mouth with her hands, sat on the sofa, pulled her knees to her chest, and sobbed. For the first time, she finally realized she would no longer have a Ma.