Redeeming Gabriel Read Online Free PDF Page B

We’ll see how important it is.”
    Numb, Camilla watched Portia head back to the kitchen. Eyes and ears open would be no problem. Mouth shut was another story.

Chapter Three
    G abriel shoved through the swinging doors of Ingersoll’s Oyster Bar and stood in the baking afternoon heat swinging a newspaper-laden canvas bag against his leg. Sooner or later his quarry was bound to surface.
    Last night he’d returned to the riverboat with Delia and, while she went to her room to bathe and change, conducted a discreet search of the hold of the boat. This canvas sack—discovered behind the barrel he’d been sitting on as he waited in the dark for his courier—might or might not be a clue to the imposter’s identity, but it was all he had.
    Embarking early this morning on a search, he’d put on his overanxious-relative face and questioned the proprietor of every establishment on Water Street. Downtown Mobile abounded in oyster houses, lagerbier and wine shops, and gambling and drinking saloons. Women were plentiful in those places, but no one admitted to harboring one dressed as a man.
    He was about to start over on another round of the search when a violent tugging on his coat sleeve caught his attention. He looked down.
    A scrawny little man in a red knit cap danced at his feet, beady pink eyes glinting under bristling eyebrows. “N—now—” The man’s head stretched and retracted as he struggled for words. “Now—where’d you get that?”
    Gabriel stared at him. “Where’d I get what?”
    The little man snatched at the newspaper bag. “You got it! I give it to Missy, and you stoled it!”
    Gabriel swung the bag out of reach and found himself pummeled in the stomach by surprisingly potent punches. “Hey!” Instinctively he hooked his attacker around the neck and secured the skinny arms. He looked around panting. Shoppers and vendors watched with varying degrees of curiosity and disapproval. “If I let you go,” he said through his teeth, “will you settle down and listen to me?”
    “Gimme back my bag!” howled the little man.
    “I’ll give you back the blasted bag. Just shut up and let me ask you some questions.”
    Forced to concede to Gabriel’s superior size and strength, the little man relaxed.
    Gabriel released him. “No use asking if you’re crazy,” he muttered, straightening his clothing. “What’s the matter with you?”
    The malevolent red-rimmed eyes fixed on his face. “You said you’d gimme the bag.”
    “I will, I will. Come on, and I’ll buy you a meal.” Gabriel led the way back into the oyster bar and ordered coffee for himself and his bizarre guest.
    The man slugged down his steaming coffee in three great slurps.
    Gabriel waved away a waiter offering to refill the cup. “What’s your name, old man?”
    The hot drink seemed to have taken some of the starch out of the man’s ire. He leaned back against the wooden booth. “Name’s Byrd. Virgil Byrd.”
    How poetic. “What makes you think this bag is yours?”
    “ Is mine. It’s marked.”
    “Marked? How?”
    “Candy took a bite out of it one day when I forgot to feed her.”
    Gabriel looked at the bag. Sure enough, there was a ragged hole in the bottom about the size of a half-dollar, through which he could see the rolled newspapers. “Who’s Candy?”
    “That’s my mule. Candy.”
    Gabriel had seen no evidence of any such animal. “You gave the bag to the mule?”
    Byrd screwed up his face. “Naw. Candy just tried to eat it. Gave the bag to Missy. And you stoled it.”
    “I didn’t steal it,” Gabriel said patiently, rubbing his aching forehead. “I found it. I suppose Missy’s some other animal in your menagerie.”
    “Don’t know nothin’ about no na-jer-ee.” Pride and slavish devotion lit Byrd’s rheumy eyes. “Missy’s my friend.”
    Gabriel had no idea if this was going anywhere, but what did he have to lose? “Missy’s my friend, too,” he said with an encouraging smile. “Pretty little