“What’s good about it, lawyer man?” The saloonkeeper’s carefully painted face was a mask of outrage and betrayal. “Certainly not you taking the side of trash!”
David continued to smile. “Every man and woman,” he said, nodding toward Tessa, “is entitled to the best defense possible.”
“And people tell me you’re the best,” Myra drawled. “At lawyering. At everything. But I wouldn’t know.”
David looked at Myra Brennan. She had once been a very lovely woman, but the ravages of time, late nights, liquor, and too many men had left their marks on her face, dulled her brown eyes, and coarsened her pale complexion. David softened his gaze, trying not to show his distaste as he looked at her. “Myra, you know a man in my position can’t afford to play favorites. I treat everyone equally.”
One of the saloon girls gasped at his words. He’d clearly insulted her. David Alexander uttered those words to Myra Brennan each time she approached him. Nearly every person at the Satin Sli
pper knew of Myra’s weakness for the handsome lawyer. The lady saloonkeeper had never made a secret of her desire to have the half-breed attorney in her bed.
Myra didn’t give up easily. “She’s dirty Irish trash. She killed Arnie!”
David struggled to contain his temper. “She’s no dirtier than the rest of us.” David turned from Myra to face the people crowding around, who were avidly listening to the confrontation. “And the law says she’s innocent until proven guilty.” He turned back to Myra, but this time David didn’t smile or try to hide his distaste. “Good day, Miss Brennan.” He tipped his hat once again in a gesture of dismissal.
“Always fightin’ for the helpless, eh, lawyer man?” Myra smiled at David as she moved closer. She caressed him, trailing the tip of a red-painted fingernail along his cheek, the corner of his mouth, and the curve of his full lower lip.
David didn’t move. Myra’s hand brushed over his lip again. The lace of her cuff touched his chin. Resisting the urge to brush her hand away, David concentrated on the fine bones of her wrist. An angry red welt encircled it, marring the porcelain perfection of her skin. He forced himself not to smile. It wasn’t like Myra to reveal imperfections, even slight imperfections.
“Well, I say, the helpless be damned and the trash, too.” Myra leaned closer to David until her lips were almost touching his. “What do you say to that, lawyer man?”
David stepped back, away from the predatory female, away from the musky scent of her, which irritated his sensitive nostrils. “I hope you never become one of the helpless, Myra.”
Tessa stood rigidly viewing the distasteful scene, her anger mounting with every second. She ached to step between David Alexander and the saloonkeeper and to shove the older woman’s hands away. She could feel the tension between them. It was so thick she could almost taste it. Tessa ground her teeth in an attempt to control her temper and avoid trouble.
She waited for long moments until David stepped away from the saloonkeeper. She felt his hand on her arm as he urged her forward. Tessa stared at a point above Myra’s head, willing herself to ignore the woman. But she couldn’t ignore Myra’s triumphant, knowing smile. Tessa knew it meant that Myra had won. And that she wouldn’t get her belongings back.
Tessa saw her opportunity and took it. She jerked out of David’s grasp, slipped past Myra, and dashed into the Satin Slipper.
“Stop her!” Myra yelled to the bartender once she realized Tessa’s intent.
David knew immediately where Tessa was headed. He took off after her, but the barkeep beat him to the stairs. They raced each other to the top with David trailing a step behind the bartender, Liam Kincaid.
On the landing David collided with one of Myra’s girls coming down the stairs. He stumbled backward, allowing Liam to gain another step on him.
Tessa grasped the doorknob of her former room, turned it, and flung open the door.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Liam gripped her arm above the elbow.
Tessa whirled around. “Take your filthy hands off me, you rogue!” She swung her free arm at Liam’s head. He ducked just in time.
“What the hell?” Liam asked, bewildered by Tessa’s reaction.
“Let go of me.” She spat the words at him. “Don’t touch me!”
David rounded the corner and grabbed Tessa about the waist. “I’ve got her.” He turned toward Tessa, his face mirroring his fury. “Calm down.”
Liam let go of Tessa, then stepped back out of the way.
Tessa nearly shouted again in frustration. “I want my mother’s rosary back! I want my phot—my things!”
“I know you do,” David told her, “and we’ll get them, but I shouldn’t have let you come here. We’ll get your things back a different way.”
“They belong to me. She has no right.” Tessa squirmed in David’s arms.
Myra Brennan stood just below the landing. “I have every right,” she said, “to take my share of your earnings.”
“I paid my rent.” Tessa glared at the older woman.