Free The River Nymph by Shirl Henke Page B

fingers. She could smell cheap perfume emanating from
     it. Placing it on her desk, she rubbed her hands on her skirt, loath to have the odious smell on her skin. She paced for a
     moment, fighting the curiosity that ate at her. Who was Clint seeing now? Some new whore must have displaced Eva. Surely he
     didn’t intend to take such a female upriver with them…did he?
    Finally she could stand it no longer. After all, it was not sealed, only folded. She walked over to the desk and snatched
     the piece of stationery. When she opened it and scanned the message inside, a very unladylike oath passed her lips before
     she clamped them closed.
    “Clinton Daniels, I’ll kill you for this!”

Chapter Five
    Delilah alighted from the rig she had rented at the levee and surveyed the brick warehouse where all their trade goods were going
     to be stored tomorrow if Daniels’s arrangements with the teamsters were settled. “Of course, he may not be alive tomorrow,”
     she muttered to herself as she paid the driver and told him to wait for her. “I’ll only be a few moments.”
    The greasy-looking little man in the battered bowler hat grunted, then spit an ugly glob of chaw on the cobbled street as
     he pulled his shabby rig around the corner into the shade. Once assured that her transportation from the warehouse district
     was secured, she drew the key to the front door from her reticule. They had rented space on the first floor, but she had not
     been with Horace and Clint when they inspected it.
    Fortunately, her uncle had given her his key and a floor diagram after they signed the lease, and she had put both in the
     safe aboard the boat. All she wanted was to see if Eva’s fancy house furnishings and personal belongings had been moved into
     part of the space allocated for the Nymph ’s cargo. That was what the note said, but she had to be certain before she created another scene and further alienated her
     uncle. Perhaps Eva only hoped Daniels would allow her to turn their respectable steamer into a floating bawdy house!
    Not that Delilah would put it past the rotter.
    The heavy door opened with a creak, groaning on rusty hinges as she pushed it wider. Delilah peered inside. The warehouse
     smelled musty and the only light was what little filtered inside from a few dirty windows high on the walls. Bales, crates
     and boxes were stacked everywhere, leaving only narrow aisles between them. An involuntary shiver ran down her spine in spite
     of the warm afternoon. The only sound she could hear was the scurrying of rats.
    Ugh. Best to discover the truth and get out of this dreadful area as quickly as possible. She dropped the key inside her reticule
     and extracted the diagram, holding it outside the door to see better so she would know where to look. “I could probably follow
     the stink of her cheap perfume instead,” she muttered, squinting at the sloppy pencil markings scrawled on the page.
    Suddenly a large callused hand smothered her mouth and she was lifted off her feet as her attacker wrapped his arm around
     her and yanked her inside the warehouse. Delilah kicked and tried to scream, but his grip never faltered. A second, smaller
     man emerged from the shadows and quickly closed the door.
    “We got ’er now, jest like Red said!” The little weasel rubbed his hands.
    Delilah recognized the driver who had conveniently pulled up near the Nymph ’s berth when she came down the gangplank in search of a hack.
    “Quit yer jabberin’ ’n git to work.”
    “Seems kindy a shame to waste sech a purty ’un. Couldn’t we—”
    “Boss said to be quick about this. No time,” the big man barked at his companion as he effortlessly carried Delilah deep inside
     the warehouse.
    Delilah forced her racing heart to slow and tried to think. These were Red Riley’s men. That note had been a trap, whether
     it was from Eva or not. And she’d fallen for it like a fool. Her reticule’s drawstring was still wrapped around her