Cora took a deep breath, then coughed, the exhaust fumes and smell of coal invading her nose. She’d been caught up in the beauty of the day with its cloudless sky and birdsong, and managed to forget about the smoggy city air. Foolish move.
“Are you okay?” Van leaned forward, concern lining his face. “We could go inside the café.”
“I’m fine, but wishing I was in New Hampshire where the air smells clean. How do people live here? Especially before the war when there was more motor traffic?”
“They don’t know any better.” He offered his handkerchief. “I wouldn’t mind being in Iowa. The crowds are what get me. Too much humanity sometimes.” He shuddered. “And when I have to stuff myself into a Tube station or other shelter during a bombing raid. Ugh.”
“Besides the open spaces, what do you miss about home?”
“Easy question…the leisurely pace. Don’t get me wrong. I love to chase a good story as much as the next reporter, but rising with the sun and walking the fields before leaping into the day seems to ground me.” He flushed and ducked his head. “Does that sound like a ridiculous thing for a grown man to say?”
“Not at all. Tell me about Iowa. I’ve never been.”
“The state is very different from your mountainous New Hampshire. We have some rolling hills, but as part of the Great Plains, most of the landscape is flat. A person can see for miles. Years ago, I was heading to town from Dad’s farm, and I could see something in the road. About forty minutes later, I finally drew abreast of the object, and it turned out to be some hay bales that had apparently fallen off someone’s truck.”
“I can’t imagine what that’s like. With all the lakes in New Hampshire, our roads twist and turn. A driver is lucky to see more than a quarter mile ahead.”
“I visited New Hampshire for the presidential primary during the election of thirty-two. One of my first big assignments outside of Iowa. So different than what I grew up with, but just as pretty.”
Cora blanched. He’d been to her state. Walked where she’d walked. What would it be like to go home and follow his footsteps?
“More tea, miss?” The waitress hovered at Cora’s shoulder. “Something to eat?”
Her stomach rumbled, and she pressed her hand against her middle. Face heating, she nodded. “Apparently, I’m hungry.”
Van chuckled, and she glared at him.
He held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry.”
“Whatever you’ve got is fine.”
“Cucumber sandwiches coming up. The owner got a produce delivery.”
Cora brightened. She’d eaten her weight in canned food. Fresh vegetables would be a treat. “Let’s review the ideas we’ve come up with thus far. Maybe one of them will jump out as the next great story.”
“First—”
“Cora Strealer, is that you?” A strident voice split the air.
Cora flinched. She’d know those tones anywhere. Her shoulders knotted, and she clenched her hands into fists, fingernails biting in her palms. She refused to turn toward the sound. Let her nemesis come to her. Van looked at her, questions written all over his face. He’d find out soon enough.
Footsteps clattered on the sidewalk. “Cora!” The woman’s nasal voice carried like a foghorn on the coast of Maine.
Tall and willowy, Myrtle O’Malley arrived at the table, dressed to the nines as if she were headed to a cocktail party. Mahogany hair swept into a smooth chignon with eyebrows tweezed into perfect arches, she nudged Cora then held out her hand to Van, who ignored the gesture. “Who have we here? Does Brian know about this little tête à tête?”
“He’s dead, Myrtle. You know that.” Cora spoke through gritted teeth. “This is Van Toppel, a colleague from the UP. What are you doing over here?”
Seemingly unfazed by Van’s response, Myrtle grabbed a chair from one of the nearby tables and shoved it between Cora and Van before dropping onto the seat. She batted her eyelashes at Van. “You’re right. His death must have slipped my mind. I guess that’s why you’re able to gallivant around London with this handsome man.”
“I’m not on a vacation. We’re working together on a series of articles. Why are you in London?”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m with Collier’s now, and they’ve sent me all over Europe. I’m back in the city to see what I can ferret out about the big campaign in the works.” She nudged Van’s shoulder and wiggled her eyebrows. “What are you two 'collaborating' on?”
Van pulled away, and Cora stifled a grin. Apparently, this was one man who wouldn’t fall prey to Myrtle’s charms. Unlike Louis, the young man who’d asked Cora to marry him, then broken the engagement only to be dumped by Myrtle three months later when she’d tired of him.
“Confidential, Myrtle. You know that. Just because you blurt out your assignment doesn’t mean we have to share ours.”
“Well, la-di-da. No need to be snooty, Cora. Are you still sore because Louis chose me over you?”
“Actually, no. If I’d married him, I wouldn’t have met Brian.” Cora narrowed her eyes. “Are you still sore that I bested you out of the job in Lakeport?”
Myrtle’s face darkened for a flash before her simpering smile settled in place. “Clever jibe—”
“As interesting as this reunion is, Miss O’Malley, we’re on deadline. I’m sure you understand. Maybe we can meet you at one of the pubs later.”
“That would be lovely. Perhaps we can discuss possible collaboration between ourselves, Mr. Toppel. I’d make a great addition to UP’s cadre of writers.”
“I don’t—”
She held her index finger to his lips. “Shh. Later. We’ll discuss this exciting opportunity later.” She glanced at the jeweled watch pinned to her jacket lapel. “The Fox and Hound at…say…eight o’clock. Don’t feel like you need to join us, Cora.”
Heart hammering in her chest, Cora smiled sweetly. “Oh, but I don’t want to miss the chance to catch up with you.”
Myrtle’s smile faltered, then she rose and bent to lay a kiss on Van’s cheek. “I look forward to seeing you again.” Without a backward glance, she minced away on teetering stiletto heels. The scent of Evening in Paris clinging to the air around them.
Van blew out a breath and sagged in his chair. “Wow, that’s one predatory woman. She scares me.”
“Truth be told, she frightens me, too.” With a shaky laugh Cora pushed away her teacup. “I guess you got the gist of our…uh…relationship. And now it appears she wants my job and my partner. I can’t believe I’ve come over three thousand miles to be stuck with her in the same city. What are the odds?” She rubbed her forehead then dropped her hands into her lap. Van didn’t seem to be affected by her act, but Louis hadn’t been either at first. How long before Van became snared in the woman’s web?
Van squeezed her arm. “Hey, don’t allow her to get under your skin. You have a lot of history, and she’s obviously hurt you, but I won’t let her do that again. We need to get ahead of any subterfuge she might be arranging now that she knows you’re here.”
“She has been a thorn in my side since college. Stealing my boyfriend just to see if she could was the least of her crimes. I’m not sure what she thinks I did to her, but she’s had a vendetta against me from our first class together. She went out of her way to undermine me with my professors and tried to get me into trouble with the administration. After college, we ended up at the same newspaper, and she tried to get my editor to believe I’d plagiarized one of her articles. Fortunately, I had all my notes and was able to prove her false.”
“Bet that didn’t sit well.”
“No, and then I was promoted. Shortly after that she moved to a different paper, not sure which one.” She shrugged, her bunched shoulder muscles protesting the action. “Maybe that’s when she landed at Collier’s. Anyway, how will you put the kibosh on her shenanigans? She’s a climber and will do whatever it takes to get an article, a scoop…or a man.”
“I’ll send a telegram to our editor in case she tries to contact him with claims of our recommendation. Then we’ll do what we do best and write our stories, keeping a very close eye on Miss O’Malley. We’re in this together. Partners, like you said.”
Tension seeped from Cora’s back, and she blinked away the moisture that had sprung to her eyes, unbidden. When was the last time she’d had this kind of support? Long before Brian had left for Pearl with a promise to return.
Could she trust Van? Was he truly changing as he’d indicated he was trying to do, or would he slip back into his chauvinistic attitudes leaving her alone to deal with Myrtle? She’d handled her adversary in the past on her own, but having Van beside her, looking at her like he was, acting like he cared…she could get used to that.