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Edward let Detective Stone into his office. He was happy to see the man. He'd wondered what had become of him these last few days. He hadn't received any sort of telegraph and had begun to worry, until his father had pointed out that no news was good news.
Della glanced up as he opened the door and gave him a death stare. She'd been glaring at him all day, and when he'd asked her for a cup of coffee, she'd told him to get it himself. He suspected he was getting off light with that remark and had thought it wise to stay as far away as he could from her the rest of the day.
Detective Stone's face was grim as he entered. Edward shut the door behind him.
Waterson and his daughter were set to arrive late this afternoon, or early in the evening if their train was behind, which meant he didn't have much time to finish preparing. He hoped the detective would be fast.
Edward and his father had discussed the merger plans at length, and Edward had admitted to him that although he'd been exaggerating his doubts regarding the merger the other night at dinner, not everything he'd said had been untrue.
There was a part of him that had simply gone along with the idea of the merger because he'd thought it was what his father had wanted. He'd been sincere when he'd said he didn't like the idea of giving up control to Waterson, though he admitted he was a good man. That particular sentiment—that Waterson and his daughter were self-absorbed and money-hungry—had been a complete fabrication brought on by his own anger and resentment toward Lily.
None of that had anything to do with the reasons Detective Stone was here, though. Edward forced himself to focus on one thing at a time.
"Something wrong?" Edward asked, hoping the look on the man's face had more to do with his carriage ride back than anything else. He already had quite enough on his mind as it was and didn't need to add any more worries to it.
"There's a lot wrong with Wilmette Creek, as it turns out," the detective replied. "The first of which being their sheriff is completely incompetent. The second of which is that they don't have a telegraph machine."
Edward's mouth dried up. His throat felt like sandpaper. "No telegraph machine?"
"Nope. I got a horse and rode into Thunderbend, thinking they'd be sure to have one there."
"And did they?"
"Sure did."
Edward sighed with relief.
"Except it was broken."
Edward's anxiety returned. "What of the body?"
The detective shook his head. "It wasn't him."
For a moment, he thought he'd misheard the detective. When he realized he hadn't, his heart stopped. "Not him? But how can that be? I thought the sheriff there positively identified him."
"I told you, their sheriff is a fool. How he thought the body in question looked a thing like Ray Dickinson, I can't even begin to imagine. They didn't even have the same hairline, let alone the same facial features."
Edward didn't know what to say. His heart thumped hard inside his chest. He raced across the hall and got his father. Della looked up anxiously from her desk.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, no tone or undercurrent of anger, just a simple question.
Edward shot her a look. "The body they found in Wilmette Creek wasn't Ray's," he said and shut the door to his office again. His father was in there with him now. They quickly filled him in. He looked almost as worried as Edward felt.
"If that wasn't Ray's body, then whose was it?" asked Charles Saunders.
The detective shrugged. "Nobody, just some drifter."
Edward and his father exchanged an anxious glance.
Detective Stone asked, "Where's Mrs. Dickinson? I need to let her know."
Edward frowned. "I think she's at home."
The detective stiffened. "You mean, she's not here? But I thought she worked for you."
"She did," Edward said, groaning inwardly. "We had an argument."
Stone pressed his lips together. "You found out about the child, didn't you? Did she tell you, or did you hear it from someone else?"
Edward's mouth dropped open. "You knew? Was there anyone aside from me who didn't know?" He felt a fresh renewal of his anger.
"It's my job to know," said Stone. "That's what you're paying me for. But that's not what's important right now. Ray Dickinson is on his way here."
Edward and his father stared at him.
"Are you certain?" asked Edward.
"Yes. The coach I was riding in on my way back contained a drunkard who claimed to have gambled with Ray the night before last in a little saloon outside Elmwood, not even a day's ride from here. Apparently, Ray shared his plans with him over several shots of whiskey."
"What plans?" Edward whispered.
"To get back at Mrs. Dickinson for keeping their child a secret from him. The man claimed Ray was quite enraged."
"Bridget must have told him," Edward's father said.
"My guess precisely," said Stone.
Della suddenly burst into the room. "What are you all doing still standing here?" She glared at each of them. "Didn't you hear what the detective said? We need to go find Lily. Right now. Ray could already be on his way to her house for all we know. We must hurry."
"You're right," Edward said.
Della looked momentarily taken aback. "Of course, I am."
"Perhaps I ought to listen to you more often," Edward said.
Stone said, "Do you know where she is?"
"Either at home or at Caroline's," Della replied.
"She wouldn't be at your house?" he asked Edward.
He shook his head. "No, today is our servants' day off. Even if she went there, there would be no one to let her in. But she wouldn't go there anyway, not after some of the things I said to her."
Della renewed her glare at him.
"I'll check the Shannons’," said Stone.
"I'll check her house," said Edward.
"I'll check around the shops in town," said his father.
"Wait!" cried Edward. "The meeting with Waterson." He'd nearly forgotten about it.
"Forget the merger," his father said. "The money's not important. I've been thinking it through, and I think you may have a point about losing control of the company. Waterson and his daughter are good people, but I built this business from the ground up. I only thought having someone to share the burdens of business with would make things easier on you, Edward, especially since I've been thinking of retirement."
"Retirement?" Edward said. "You've never mentioned retirement to me before."
His father shrugged. "I didn't want to say anything until I'd made up my mind one way or the other. Now with Myra... I find myself wanting to spend more time at home. To make more time for her."
"This is all very sweet, I'm sure," Stone said, "but I don't think we quite have time for it."
Della rolled her shoulders back. "I'll stay here and handle Mr. Waterson when he arrives," she said, much to everyone's amazement. "Don't worry, I'll let him down gently. And Edward, later, you and I can discuss plans to make me your new general manager. If you need someone to share the burdens of business with, there's no reason it shouldn't be me."
She turned and strutted out of the room, leaving everyone with their mouths hanging open.
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