Don't Dare a Dame by M. Ruth Myers

Author:M. Ruth Myers [Myers, M. Ruth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Detective, private investigator, Women Sleuths, Historical
Publisher: Tuesday House
Published: 2015-01-29T16:00:00+00:00

Twenty-four

The hotel was a small but handsome red brick structure three stories tall. A basement half above street level housed the kitchen. A dining room and reception desk occupied the front of the first floor, guest rooms the back. A staircase with polished bannisters led to the rooms on the top floor.

"Nasty out," the clerk commiserated as Joe signed the register. "Blow itself out by morning, though. They always do this time of year." He slid Joe a key. "You and Mrs. Sullivan enjoy your stay."

A few other travelers were straggling in. Kate hadn't realized how chilled she was until her fingers started to throb in the central heat. Nor had she recognized the extent of her own weariness. She moved with little more thought than the Folly's engine, trusting Joe's competence now as she did at sea.

He opened the door to a neatly kept room containing a white iron bedstead, a bureau and wardrobe. A brown carpet patterned with roses was almost the size of the room, and the bureau held towels and a small bar of soap and glasses for water.

"Have a bath to warm up," Joe suggested flinging himself into the room's only chair. He unbuttoned his coat. "It's a good time of day for it. Plenty of hot water, and not so many people waiting to get in as there will be later."

His eyes half closed as he spoke. Kate realized he must be as drained of energy as she was. She went down the hall and after soaking at length in the claw-footed tub, felt her teeth began to unclench. She soaped every inch of her body, then used the small bar to wash salt from her hair.

It never had felt so wonderful to be clean. She lay while the steam from the bath rose around her and decided it didn't bother her at all that she was on her own in a hotel with Joe Santayna. Aggie wouldn't think twice about the situation.

A tap at the door reminded her other guests would be wanting to wash up for dinner, here or in the bath at the opposite end of the hall. Pulling on a clean pair of step-ins and her nearly dry outer wear, she returned to her room. Joe stretched on the bed with one arm tucked under his head. His boots were drying by the radiator. Kate saw the heels of his socks were finely darned.

"There's whiskey if you want it." He indicated a flask on the bureau. "None downstairs. This part of town's dry."

His dimples appeared at the irony and Kate giggled until she was weak. Dozens of boats a day coming for booze, yet some of Saint John's citizens had to go across town if they wanted a legal drink.

Kate poured herself a taste of whiskey diluted with a generous serving from the pitcher of drinking water. She swallowed, closing her eyes as she waited for its warmth to hit.

"It's a hell of a way to make a living, Kate," Joe said quietly.

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