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* * *
Lucille dressed quickly after Leonard left and headed straight to Irene’s. Her husband, Dr. Theodore Harcourt, answered the door and welcomed her in. He was a kind man of thirty-five or so with brown-blond hair and a doctor’s voice. The kind of voice that could both soothe as well as alarm a person, depending on how he chose to use it.
She smiled politely at him and returned his greeting, but inside she burned to get Irene alone. She needed her friend right now.
“Have a seat in the parlor,” he said to her, showing her into the room. “I’ll just get Irene for you. She was just going over a shopping list with our housemaid, but I’m sure she’s finished by now.”
Lucille thought it funny that her friend had a housemaid. Just half a year ago, before her marriage to the doctor, Irene’s misfortunes had been great. She couldn’t have afforded a housemaid let alone a house of her own to host her in. Were it not for the few train jobs they’d pulled together, they’d have both been in the poorhouse.
She sat on the couch, crossing and uncrossing her legs nervously. When Irene finally appeared, she rose and went towards her, her mouth already opening to spill her morning’s news. Then Dr. Harcourt appeared just behind her, the corners of his mouth curving up into a smile.
He followed Irene into the room and took a seat on the couch while Irene remained standing. Her curly chestnut hair wrapped around her head in wild waves; her green eyes, lighter than Lucille’s with hints of blue, looked at her husband with masked irritation.
“Our maid will bring in tea shortly,” he said, apparently thinking that he would join their conversation. Lucille shot Irene a look, and she understood her meaning at once. I need to talk to you alone.
“Theodore,” Irene said, taking the cushion beside him on the couch, “don’t you have, um, some patients to see this morning? I wouldn’t want you to be late.”
“My first patient canceled,” he said genially, blissfully unaware of Lucille’s growing frustration at his presence. “So I have an entire hour free this morning, an unprecedented event, don’t you think?”
Irene and Lucille chuckled politely. “If an hour a morning is so hard for you to come by,” said Lucille, “I wouldn’t want you to waste it all on me. Surely you have better things to do with your time.”
“Not at all,” said Dr. Harcourt. “I’m most interested to hear of your adventures abroad. Where was it you were living again? Irene said you’d gone West, but I’m not sure she ever told me exactly where.”
“Arizona Territory,” Lucille said automatically. It was not a lie. She had crossed through Arizona Territory more than once. That she had spent little time there was another matter altogether.
“Fascinating,” Dr. Harcourt said, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees and his eyes glinting like a child at Christmas. “I’ve never left Missouri. Tell me something. I’ve heard that Arizona’s Indians speak better English than we do. Is that true?”
He stared at her excitedly, and Lucille could only blink. She’d encountered one Indian on her course through Arizona Territory, and he’d tried to trade her some corn for her coat. She’d told him no. He had spoken very good English though.
She was saved from answering by Irene. “Good heavens, Theodore!” she suddenly exclaimed. “I’ve just remembered that...” She looked around the room as if searching for help. “We’re out of coffee, and I forgot to add it to Susie’s list before she left.”
“But isn’t Susie still here? I thought she was getting the tea?”
“Cook is getting the tea together. I sent Susie out to do the shopping.”
“We had half a pound of coffee just this morning,” he said.
“No, we had only the bottom scrapings of the jar left.”
He scratched his head, looking confused. “I could have sworn we had more than that.”
“Well, you assumed wrong,” Irene said. “I haven’t time today to go to the store myself.”
He rose at once. “I’ll see if I can catch Susie. My mornings shall never be right if I haven’t any coffee to drink.”
“Don’t hesitate then,” Irene said, pushing him out the door. “Move quickly. Susie is the fastest housemaid I’ve ever met.”
“No need to worry yourself,” he told her. “If I can’t catch her, I’ll simply buy some myself.”
“Good thinking,” Irene said and gave him one final push. Then he was gone. She turned back to Lucille with a sigh of relief. A moment later, their housemaid, Susie, walked into the parlor. She set the tea tray down and asked if they wanted cookies to go with it. Irene quickly took her by the arm.
“Susie,” Irene said, “never mind about the cookies. I need you to do me a favor. Dr. Harcourt has just left in search of you.”
“But I’m right here, ma’am,” Susie said.
Irene dismissed her words with a wave of her hand. “Yes, yes, I know. But Dr. Harcourt thinks you already left to do the shopping. He forgot that he wanted some more coffee.”
“But we have half a pound, ma’am. I checked it myself this morning.”
“Yes, but that coffee’s... corrupted.”
Susie’s eyes widened. “Corrupted?” she asked, her voice breathy.
“Yes, it’s gone bad.”
Susie scratched her head. “I drank some myself. It tasted all right to me.”
“Well, my taste buds are stronger than yours. Now then, I need you to take the list we went over and hurry to the general store, making sure to stay out of Dr. Harcourt’s sight until you get there. Should he see you beforehand, tell him you... stopped into the bakery for a loaf of bread but they told you to come back later. Either way, don’t let on that you left after he did, do you understand? And purchase some new coffee.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Susie said, looking confused. Irene reached into her pocket and pulled out several silver coins, which she promptly placed into Susie’s hand.
“Not a word now, remember,” Irene said.
Susie’s eyes widened. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, looking at the coins with amazement. “I’m happy to do a favor for you anytime.” She quickly left the house then, leaving Irene and Lucille alone at last.
Irene plopped into a chair and let out a sigh. “I thought we’d never have the parlor to ourselves. I can’t believe Theodore thought to stay. He never stays when we I have a guest. Then again, he’s not usually home at this time.” Her eyes drifted in the direction of the kitchen and her face scrunched up. “What am I going to do with the half pound of coffee we’ve still got?”
“Use it in your garden,” Lucille said. “Mix it in with the dirt. It will help to drive away the bugs and aid in the growth of your vegetables and flowers.”
Irene looked at her with surprise. “Will it?” she asked. Lucille nodded.
“A marvelous idea.” Irene crossed her legs and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees much like Dr. Harcourt had done just a few minutes before. The only difference was that Irene’s eyes were not shimmering with excitement as his had been. They were dark and worried. “Now then, what’s wrong?”
Lucille inhaled deeply before letting it out. “Have you seen this morning’s paper?” she asked, and Irene shook her head. Lucille withdrew the rolled-up copy from her purse and handed it to her. Irene’s eyes widened as she read it.
“Preposterous!” Irene shouted. Had Dr. Harcourt still been at home, he’d have heard her clear on the other side of the house. “How can they print such lies? None of us have been anywhere near a train in the last several months. Not me or you or—”
“Sssh!” Lucille hissed. “Your cook is still here, is she not?”
Irene’s face paled, and when she spoke next it was in a whisper. “Sorry, you’re right. Better not to mention anyone else’s name or say anything too much even if we’re alone.”
“Or think we’re alone,” Lucille added and nodded towards the open window. Irene’s face paled even more. She moved from her chair to the cushion beside Lucille and spoke just loud enough for her to hear.
“What should we do?” Irene asked.
Lucille answered in the same quiet whisper. “I don’t think it matters unless we’re caught. And none of you are in danger of that. The only one Marshal Decker is after is me, and he’s not even sure of that. If he was truly convinced of my guilt, he’d give my name to the papers. Anyway, he hasn’t any idea I’m back here.”
“You mean he didn’t have any idea you were back here,” Irene said. “If he thinks the Beauty Bandits have struck again in Missouri, then it’s only a matter of time before he returns to Elmwood.”
Lucille frowned and bit her bottom lip. “You may be right,” she said, “but I don’t think he has anything more on me now than he did before. If he finds me, all he can do is question me. He has nothing with which to arrest me. And I’ll not give up any of your names.”
“He’s a marshal.”
“So?”
“He may have ways of forcing things from you that you don’t want to say. Names you don’t want to give.”
Lucille tried not to become angry at her friend’s concern, but it was difficult. “You think I’d give you up so easily?”
Irene shook her head. “On the contrary, I think he’d have to rip you limb from limb before you’d utter one of our names to him, but that is my fear. I don’t wish to see you die any more than I wish to see you behind bars. If it comes to that, perhaps you can give him my name, and my name only.”
“Nonsense,” Lucille said. “Marshal Decker still thinks there are only three Beauty Bandits. Therefore, should it come down to his torture of me, I shall abide by his wishes and give him three names. They will simply not be the rights names. I’ll make them up.”
“What happens when he finds out that you’ve lied to him?”
Lucille shrugged. “By then, I’ll be in a state jail and it will not be so easy for him to touch me.”
Irene looked dubiously at her friend but said nothing.
“Besides,” Lucille went on, “we have no reason to think he’s even returned to Missouri as of now.”
“But what should we do about the lies this paper has printed?” Irene said, returning to the original subject and the reason for Lucille’s visit. “Shall I write to them anonymously and tell them they made a mistake? That this train robbery was not the work of the Beauty Bandits?”
Lucille’s shoulders tensed. She shook her head. “No. Better to leave it alone, I think. Either they’ve made the story up entirely to sell more papers, or there is a group out there copying us, in which case they’re far more likely to be caught.”
“How do you figure that?” Irene asked.
“If they’ve already had to shoot a man, then they’re not nearly as smart as we are. We’ve never shot anyone. Also, they are not distinguishing between the rich and the poor, which means they’re greedy, and greedy people are far more likely to be caught.”
“Should we consult the others?” Irene asked.
“Not yet. It’s probably wise that the five of us are not seen together except perhaps by accident.”
“All right then,” said Irene. “I’m having lunch with Victoria later. I’ll see if I can find out whether Amos has said anything to her on the matter.”
“Good thinking. When Leonard gets home tonight, I’ll see what I can get out of him as well.” She rose to go, then suddenly realized her mother’s brooch was not on her dress.
“It must have fallen off,” said, Irene. “Let’s search the cushions.”
But the search turned up nothing except some lint and a nickel.
“I must find it,” Lucille said. “It is all I have left of my mother.”
“Are you sure you were wearing it when you arrived? I don’t remember seeing a brooch pinned to your dress.”
Lucille frowned. “Perhaps I never put it on this morning. I knew I meant to, but then I became so distracted by the paper I hardly remember getting dressed.”
“There you go then,” Irene said. “I bet it’s in your jewelry box at home.”
* * *
