December 1844
Holland was wound up when they arrived via the front door of the brothel. He’d been looking for Bindi, but he’d also hit the whiskey pretty hard as evidenced by his demeanor and the way he slurred every other word.
“Bindi, where you been girl?” He popped her on the bottom hard enough for the sound to resonate through the room. Miss Millie had been occupying herself in the corner, and she frowned as she skittered out of the room.
“Ouch. Don’t touch me.” Bindi bounced around, rubbing at her leg and backside.
His eyes steeled on Dixie, but he grabbed Bindi’s chin and squeezed until her mouth puckered. “Don’t talk back or I’ll slap your sassy little mouth. Have some gratitude.” He pushed her face away and chuckled.
Dixie would have jumped him herself. She was fed up with the way he demonstrated his power over Bindi. But he might have thrown her out, and she wanted to talk to Amelia.
Before they left, Dixie had gone over the plan with Emily, and she knew Em could keep Bindi and Holland busy while she found the other girl. She excused herself and tromped up the stairs, pretending to look for the powder room. She skipped the floor where the bathroom was located and went into the attic.
She still couldn’t get over how different the place looked ornately decorated and with Bindi’s personal items strewn about. The room was less menacing, and she decided she’d restore it once she was sure Holland would no longer be an issue.
She crossed the room and opened the window before tapping on Amelia’s door. The place was sweltering, and she once again said a silent thank you for the inventor of air conditioning. Amelia came out all smiles. She pushed the door open, allowing her customer to leave, and Dixie felt a bit of humiliation warm her face.
“I’m sorry, Amelia. I didn’t know…”
Before she could finish, Amelia waved away the apology. “Please, Johnny’s a regular. He’s used to getting the run-off when I have better things to do.” She grinned and gave Dixie a hug. “It’s good to see you.”
“You too. I um… well… I wanted to talk to you about Holland. Do you have a minute?” Dixie found herself shifting from one foot to the other in nervous anticipation of Amelia’s reaction.
Amelia started to fidget with the hem of her pantaloons and then stood on her tip-toes and peered down the stairs. “Come here.” She pulled Dixie into the room and shut the door. “If he hears us… well, I can’t risk it. You know?” Amelia opened the door again and peeked out before pressing it closed.
“I know, but you seem to be a smart girl; maybe smarter than the others, even. Amelia, do you think Holland has hurt any of the girls here. In the house, I mean?” Dixie started to sit on the bed but decided on a velvet-covered high back chair in the corner.
“I can’t say. Not for sure. All I do know is that a couple of girls disappeared last year. We asked where they were, and Holland said they’d quit. I think you and I both know he wouldn’t allow anyone to quit.” Amelia’s smile faded for the first time.
“What do you think happened?”
Amelia shrugged. “Let’s just say I don’t think they’re still around to talk about it. To be honest, it scares me and more for Bindi than myself.” She busied herself picking up clutter around her tiny room.
“I know. I’m worried too. Hey, this is going to sound nuts, but one day you’ll find Bindi’s diary and think about writing in it. Make sure you do it, okay?”
Amelia’s eyebrows rose in apparent confusion, but before she could respond, the sound of chatter and heavy boot steps on the stairs.
“Girls, are you up here?” Holland yanked the door open and smirked. “Showing her the ropes, Amelia?”
“No. Just talking.” The redhead rubbed a finger across her chin.
Emily and Bindi stood behind him as he leaned against the door jamb. “Oh, I don’t know. I think Dixie could bring in a buck or two. Don’t you?” He cast an evil glance at Bindi.
“Sorry, Holland. This isn’t my thing. No offense.” Dixie gestured to the empty bed and then brushed Amelia’s hand.
Amelia smiled. “I agree. Dixie has too much class for a place like this.”
Holland narrowed his eyes on the redhead. “Class? This place reeks of class.” His words were a garbled mess. “How ‘bout this. How ‘bout Dixie and Emily do a little work for me, or I tell the constable about the opium they smuggled in to you girls.”
“What opium?” Emily stood a little straighter and Dixie shook her head, warning her to keep her cool.
“Doesn’t matter what opium, doll. What matters is that I have ninety percent of the police force in my back pocket. I could have you locked up… for a long time.” He moved closer to Dixie his foul breath blowing against her face.
“Oh, Holland, you have more women around here than you know what to do with.” Amelia grabbed his arm and squeezed.
She was more adept at handling Holland’s moods than most of the girls Dixie had met. Her strength endeared Amelia to Dixie.
“Maybe. But you girls better watch your step.” He let his smug smile disappear, and a wave of nausea wash over Dixie.