Free Lone Star 02 by Wesley Ellis Page B

that this man was not just another admiring gentleman.
    He was a very large man, dressed in an ill-fitting suit of blue wool. The derby perched on his head looked about three sizes too small. It tottered on the man’s head. Jessie waited for a wind gust to send it sailing back to the little fellow this man had filched it from.
    Jessie casually strolled past several doorways on Market Street, and then stopped to peer into the window of a haberdashery. The storekeeper inside saw her looking, and enthusiastically waved at her, beckoning her in.
    Jessie paid no attention to the clerk, but positioned herself so that this window too acted as a mirror. The man across the way had kept her pace. He was still staring at her. Suddenly he turned his back to Jessie, perhaps sensing that she was really looking at him and not at the men’s woollen scarves, silk ascots, and leather gloves behind the window. Jessie saw that the man was now staring into the window of a dress salon.
    She smiled, fleetingly. Too bad we can’t trade windows, she thought. The idea made her chuckle, but at the same time she felt herself sadden. For a little while this morning she had been able to forget her troubles and lose herself in the wonders of the city. Now it all flooded back up on her: the bitter rivalry that had cost her parents their lives, the crooked waterfront scheme that now endangered her business, the ever-present knowledge that her own life would never cease to be in danger.
    Jessie continued walking. She turned the comer at Kearney, and headed north. Here there were more stores and shops, but now Jessie paid no attention to the fine merchandise displayed in their windows. Past Geary Street, Post Street, Sutter, and then Bush, she walked, all the time watching out of the comers of her eyes. Her shadow was staying right with her.
    Years ago, Ki had taught her that there were several ways to handle a situation like this. If she was in a busy area, surrounded by people, the best thing to do was to simply turn and wave at the tail. Once he knew that he’d been spotted, he often gave up and went away. The thing was, Ki had cautioned her, that you then had to make sure there wasn’t another tail somewhere about. Very often, the first tail had been meant to be spotted, and in that way lull you into a false sense of security.
    But Jessie did not want to scare this shadow off. She wanted to catch him. The cartel thought they could find something out about her, did they? Well, she was going to find out a thing or two about them!
    Just to make sure she wasn’t imagining the whole thing, Jessie did an about-face at Pine Street, and then headed back toward Bush. The fellow on her tail paralleled her actions from across the street. Jessie felt a moment’s panic, but banished it. The cartel wanted her to be afraid, but she was damned if she was going to let them have their way ...
    She headed east on Bush, looking for a quieter thoroughfare, one where she could set and then spring her trap. She found what she was looking for between Kearney and Montgomery. It was an alleyway which stretched for two blocks. It was not used for trash, but for the businesses of shopkeepers of more modest means: cobblers, tailors, and the like. The pastel-painted doorways were clean, but their windows were dark and narrow, most of them wire-grated against burglars and vandals.
    Jessie doubted that any clerks could see through their barricades and out into the alley. It was perfect.
    She ducked into the alleyway, went several doors down the thoroughfare, and then stood in a deep doorway. She quickly lifted the hem of her skirt up past her gartered thigh, and drew the ivory-gripped derringer. It held two .38-caliber rounds. She palmed the little gun and waited.
    And waited.
    Evidently the man following her had sensed that something was up. Jessie strained her ears for the sound of his footsteps on the cobblestones of the quiet alleyway. When she finally