A Dawn Most Wicked

That was when I saw a platter of breads and sliced meats on the table. My stomach growled as I dropped into a seat, and dammit if my bones didn’t sink right into that soft leather.

Lang pushed a biscuit at me. “Now we may speak freely. And you may eat.”

“Thank you. Sir.” I brought the flaky bread to my lips. The buttery smell alone could kill a man, and after a huge satisfying chomp, I stared expectantly at Lang.

But the young man wasn’t finished surprising me. “Coffee, Mr. Sheridan?”

I almost choked. “Uh,” I grunted through a full mouth, “sure. Thanks.” Then I watched in absolute awe as the heir to an enormous company and even more enormous fortune poured me coffee.

“How long have you been a striker?” Lang asked once he had set the pot back down.

I wiped crumbs from my mouth. “Uh, goin’ on a year now.”

His eyebrows arched high. “Only a year? And yet you’re already more adept at working the engines than the Chief Engineer. And Miss Cochran says you cover more than your fair share of engine duties. Is that correct?”

I didn’t answer, gulping back coffee instead. No, I didn’t like Murry much, but it also didn’t feel right to mud-sling. “We all do more than our fair shares in the engine room,” I finally said. “Ever since the other striker left.”

“You’re too nice.” Lang smirked. “Let me be frank with you, Mr. Sheridan. Are you interested in getting your engineer’s license?”

Now I did choke. Getting my license would make me a full engineer—and that would mean higher pay plus a permanent position. “Are you jokin’?”

He laughed. “Not in the least. And really—what a silly question. Of course you want your license.” He leaned back in his chair, lacing his hands behind his head with the easy poise of a man with everything. “The thing is, Mr. Sheridan, the Lang Company needs talented engineers like yourself. The steamship industry is having a difficult time competing with locomotives for business, but we’re having an even more difficult time competing for workers. As such, when we find an individual with skill, we like to keep him. Why, you could have your license and be a Second Engineer in under a week.”

A week. I mulled that over, chewing at my biscuit until it was all gone—until Lang pushed another my way. I stared at the golden top with unseeing eyes. . . .

I could be the one giving orders. Me, Daniel Sheridan, could be a Second Engineer in one week. I should be overjoyed at the prospect. Being a licensed engineer was a lot to offer a sixteen-year-old. It was certainly more than I had ever hoped for, and it was a million miles away from the prison cell I’d left behind. . . .

So why did it feel like the biscuit was burning a hole through my stomach?

“What about Schultz?” I asked at last, glancing up at Kent. “He’s the Second Engineer now.”

“Ah, yes.” Lang’s hands dropped to the armrests. “I can see why you might assume I meant you’d be Second Engineer on the Sadie Queen, but no. You will not be replacing anyone here. In fact, once the race is over, there will be no Queen upon which to engineer.”

“Pardon?” I sat up taller. “I thought if the Queen won, then she’d get to stay on the water.”

“No.” His lips pursed and he shook his head sharply. “That was never the plan.”

“But then why have the race at all?” I leaned toward him, speaking faster and faster. “Cass—I mean, Miss Cochran seems to think that if we can win the race, the Queen will stay on the Mississippi.”

“Hmmm.” His forehead knit, and he looked genuinely concerned by this information. “I am not sure why she thinks this since I never said—”

“Cochran thinks the same.”

Lang winced. “That is a problem.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The whole purpose of this race was to publicize the Lang Company—not bring business back to the Sadie Queen. When we reach Natchez, we intend to use the momentum and energy from the race to announce that I am the new company president. Additionally we intend to announce the removal of the Sadie Queen from the river.”

“You’re dismantling her?” My voice came out high-pitched. Incredulous. “Why wouldn’t you tell the captain that?”

“Because we aren’t dismantling her,” Lang rushed to say. “We are merely moving her to a lake outside New Orleans. We hope to turn her into a tourist attraction, you see?” At my blank expression he traced his hand through the air like a newspaper headline. “‘Come see the Sadie Queen! Ghosts to chill and thrill even the strongest man!’”

At those words anger brewed in my chest, hot and explosive. “That’s just as bad as dismantlin’ her.”

“But we expect it to draw quite a crowd.” Lang spoke as if trying to convince himself more than me.

“What about the crew?” I growled. “What’ll happen to us?”

“Most of you will have jobs on other Lang Company steamers. You”—he nodded at me—“will be welcome as Second Engineer on any of our luxury boats.”

“And Miss Cochran?” I pointed straight up, toward the pilothouse. “What about her?”

“I have . . . plans for her as well.”

“And Captain Cochran?”

“Yes, well . . .” Lang swallowed. “He is too difficult to work with, and his temper has made too many enemies for the Lang Company. After that incident with the Chief Engineer and the furnace, I fear Captain Cochran does not have a future with us.”

“No future with you?” I couldn’t believe they were going to keep me—promote me, even—and then fire Cochran. For half a breath triumph warmed my chest . . . a sense of justice and revenge.

But then the full impact hit me. If Cochran lost his job, things for his family would only get worse. Ellis, Cass—they would be affected too, and no matter how much I hated the captain, I didn’t want his family to suffer. I didn’t want Cassidy to suffer.

“Do you even know if Cochran actually burned Murry?” I demanded.

“Yes.” Lang’s eyes thinned. “Five years ago he shoved the Chief Engineer’s face in the boiler furnace because he thought—as our official company report states—that Murry had ‘looked inappropriately at Mrs. Cochran.’ That, Mr. Sheridan, was more than enough grounds upon which to release Cochran from the Lang Company’s service. However, we foolishly agreed to keep him, pending no further incidents. Yet there have been incidents. Many, in fact.” Lang stared meaningfully at my face, and I had the uncomfortable feeling he knew exactly how I’d come by my aging black eye.

But still, I couldn’t let the whole Cochran family suffer because the head of the family was a monster. “What if,” I said slowly, “the ghosts disappear?”

Lang’s eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”

“If the ghosts disappear,” I repeated, more firmly this time. “If the hauntings were gone, then what would you do with the Sadie Queen?”

“Ah, well.” He straightened in his seat, his gaze turning distant. “I suppose, in that case, we would keep her on the river. She was our most lucrative steamer until two months ago. Plus, the appeal of traveling on a formerly haunted steamer would bring in heaps of new business.” His lips twitched up, and I could practically see the dollar signs floating behind his eyeballs. But then he shrugged and his gaze swung back to me. “Of course, that is not likely to happen. It is not as if one can dispose of a haunting.”

“Right,” I mumbled, biting into my biscuit. “I guess one can’t.” But even as I spoke, I was formulating a plan. Joseph Boyer had some spirit-hunting to do—and he needed to do it fast.

CHAPTER SIX

I stayed with Lang a few minutes more, swallowing back as much ham and coffee as I could before excusing myself for some shut-eye. “Consider my offer,” he called after me. “One week, and you could be a Second Engineer.”