The rented coach awaited John and Addie when they disembarked at the quay in Fort Bragg. Gideon stayed close on her heels. John had made the decision to bring him, because he might be of assistance to them, though they both worried about Edward. Molly had promised to watch him closely.
Addie could hardly think as they walked past the remains of gutted fish and heaps of fishing nets. Addie held her hankie to her nose, but it did little to block the stench of rotting meat. The pier bustled with fishermen, buyers, and travelers awaiting passage on the next boat to the city.
“We’ll never find him,” she said, once John handed her into the carriage and climbed in beside her.
“Our driver says he’s taken Henry many times over the years. He goes to a home outside of town. So that’s where we’re heading.” He took her hand. “We have to be careful, Addie. We can’t go rushing in there demanding to know what he’s doing.”
“I know. And it’s likely a dead end.” She pressed her trembling lips together. “It’s good of you to humor me.”
“I’d do anything for you, Addie,” he said, his eyes soft.
She squeezed his hand. “And I do love you for it.” She craned her neck to stare out the window as the cab rolled through town. The bustling seaside port seemed to subsist on logging and fishing. They soon left the streets behind and rolled along a country lane that wound through Sitka spruce and wildflowers. The towering edifice at the top of the hill had to be the insane asylum. The stonework and shuttered windows gave it a secretive air.
John leaned forward. “Let us out here. Come back in two hours.”
The driver nodded and pulled the horse to the side of the road. John helped Addie out of the cab, then paid the driver while she called Gideon to her. When the clopping of the horse’s hooves faded, he took her hand, and they walked along the road to the side of the building.
“Why don’t we go to the front door?” Addie asked.
“We can’t walk in and ask why Henry comes here twice a year or why he’s broken his routine and come here today. If there’s anything unsavory going on with the residents, they are hardly going to admit it.”
She clung to his hand and stared at the large home. Her silly vapors had brought them on a wild goose chase, and she would be embarrassed when they found out nothing. Hiring the boat and their lodging wouldn’t have been cheap either.
The road wound around to the back of the asylum. A garden with a labyrinth and clipped hedges caught her eye. Stone benches and a small waterfall looked serene and inviting. Several people wandered among the flowers on the other side of the fence.
Her fingers tightened on John’s forearm. “Isn’t that my father?” She pointed toward a man sitting beside a woman on a bench.
John peered. “I think you’re right. I can’t make out much about the woman.”
“Can we get closer without being seen?”
“I think so. There are so many huckleberry shrubs through the back field. We can hide behind them as we get closer. Mind your skirt, and hang on to me. The ground will be uneven.”
She nodded and clung to his support. He led her down into the valley from the road. They moved from shrub to shrub until they stood five feet from the stone wall. The barrier was eight feet tall without a gate on the backside.
“We can’t see anything now. We had a better view from up on the road,” she said.
“We might be able to hear something.”
He took her hand and led her to the wall. Holding his finger to his lips, he sidled down the stone structure in the direction of the bench where they’d seen her father sitting. She strained to make out the conversation on the other side of the wall.
“Are you chilled?” Her father’s voice spoke. “I can get you a shawl.”
He continued to speak of the weather, his day, and the news from the city. There was no response from his companion. John and Addie exchanged puzzled glances.
Addie peered through the gloom but couldn’t make out the woman’s features.
“I have to leave you now, my dear,” her father said. “It’s been good to see you.”
Addie and John waited. She heard footsteps fade along the cobblestone path to the building.
“How do we get into the garden?” John asked.
“There might be an access near the building.”
She followed him along the perimeter. Attached to the stone building was a small gate. Wild roses grew beside it and perfumed the air. He tugged on the padlock, but it didn’t budge. He shrugged and dug out a pocketknife. He poked and prodded until he succeeded in popping the lock. Once the lock was removed, he twisted the handle and opened it slowly.
“Coast is clear,” he said, stepping through.
She followed him with her pulse hammering in her throat. A six-foot-high clipped hedge blocked the rest of the garden from view. When they stepped past it, she realized they were in the maze. Finding their way out might not be easy. John led her down a few false paths, but they finally came out by a fountain that gurgled its welcome.
Addie’s gaze fell on the woman who sat on the bench. Her breath came fast as she noticed the woman’s faded red hair, high cheekbones, and green eyes. It had to be her mother.
Addie knelt in front of the woman and took her cold hand. “Mama?” This lady was an older version of the portrait Addie had seen at the Eaton manor. She knew without any doubt that this person was Laura Eaton.
The woman’s eyes focused on her, and a tiny frown crouched between her brows. “I had a little girl once.” Her trembling hand touched Addie’s hair.
“This woman is your mother?” John’s voice shook.
Unable to speak, Addie nodded.
The woman’s slurred speech and wide stare hinted at the reason for her compliance. “I think she’s drugged.” John said, glancing around the garden. “Looks like no one is out here.” He checked the time. “We’ve got an hour before the cab comes back.”
“We could start walking to town.”
“Someone will be looking for her soon. It’s nearly sundown.”
She realized he was right. The quality of light had changed. “We could hide if someone comes.” She grabbed his hand. “Please, John, I can’t leave her here.”
“I agree.” He knelt by her mother. “Mrs. Eaton, it’s time to go.”
“Go,” she agreed, her eyes vacant. She came to her feet when he tugged on her hand.
A bell chimed. “That’s probably the dinner bell,” Addie said. “We have to hurry. Someone will be coming.” She took her mother’s hand. “Come along, Mama.”
Saying the words hit her. Mama. She had a living mother, even if she was damaged. She led her mother to the gate, and they stepped through. John pulled it shut behind him, then fiddled with the lock.
“It’s broken,” he said. “I’ll have to leave it.”
They hurried across the field. Addie was thankful for the darkness that now quickly began to fall. They would be harder to track when a search ensued.
“It’s a big place,” John said. “I expect they’ll search the building first and won’t realize for a while that she’s missing.”
“I hope so.”
“Our hotel is on the edge of town. I’ll register us while you stay outside with her. I’ll come get you when it’s safe to go to our rooms. She’ll need to stay with you.”
Addie tightened her grip on her mother’s hand. “Of course.”
They reached the road and began the trek toward town. Her new shoes pinched her toes, and she prayed she could endure walking until the cab came. “How much longer before the cab arrives?”
John checked his watch. “Forty-five minutes.”
An eternity. “This road doesn’t seem to be well traveled.”
“A blessing for us,” he said.
They trudged toward town. Head down, her mother walked slowly, pausing often to touch a flower or a tree branch. Addie watched her for any sign of coming out of her stupor. How long might something like that take? Hours? Days? She suspected an evening dose came with dinner.
“How could he do it?” she blurted out. “How could he put her in a place like that?”
“You don’t know he did, Addie. Don’t jump to conclusions.”
“He let everyone believe she drowned, though he knew differently.”
“Maybe he was trying to spare the family the shame of knowing she was in this state.” He nodded to her mother, who was humming tunelessly.
Addie clenched her fists. “There’s more to this, John. I feel it.”
A light bobbed ahead of them in the road. “There’s the cab,” he said, relief highlighting his tone. He held up his hand, and the buggy slowed, then stopped.
The door opened, and her father stepped onto the road. His mouth was tight, and his eyes narrowed. His gaze went from Addie to her mother and back again. “Get in,” he said.
Addie took a step back. “You locked my mother away. How could you?”
“There’s more to the story than you know. Get in and I’ll explain.”
Addie glanced at John, who shrugged. There was nowhere for them to hide. She took her mother’s unresisting arm and helped her into the carriage. Gideon leaped in after her.
“There’s room for only three inside. I’ll ride up top with the driver,” her father said. “Make no judgment yet, my dear. You’ll understand when you hear the full story.”
Addie didn’t reply. Nothing he could say would change what he’d done in her eyes. Even if her mother was quite mad, she deserved better than being hidden away for a quarter century.
The carriage set off with a jerk. It continued on toward the asylum. “He’s not turning around,” John said. He leaned forward and spoke through the open window. “Why aren’t we turning around?”
Her father didn’t acknowledge him. Addie stood and put her head through the window. “Father, why are we not turning around?”
“Your mother needs her medication,” he said without turning to look at her. “You see the state she’s in, my dear. Why else would she be here?”
The carriage lurched, and Addie fell back onto the worn leather seat. “We have to escape. I can’t let her go back to that place.” She held her mother’s hand. The older woman had stopped humming, and her faded eyes showed a trace of awareness.
John pressed his lips together. “I wish I had my pistol,” he said.
“When the carriage slows to turn into the lane, let’s jump out,” she said. “It will have to nearly stop.”
He nodded. “I’ll take your mother with me. You jump out the other door.”
The vehicle slowed. Addie grabbed the door handle.
“Now!” John thrust open the door and grabbed her mother’s hand. They both hurtled through the door.
Addie tried to do the same, but her door was stuck. She slid across the seat and prepared to leap from John’s side.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Her father grabbed at her from the front window.
She beat at him with her fists but couldn’t tear free of his grasp. Gideon growled and leaped forward. He sank his teeth into Mr. Eaton’s wrist.
Her father howled. “Get him off me!”
While he was thrown off center, she leaped from the carriage and hit the grass. Pain flared through her shoulder and back, and she bit back a moan. Holding her arm, she rolled until she saw the carriage stop. Gideon jumped from the coach and ran to her.
“Good boy,” she gasped. She forced herself to ignore the pain and ran back to where John stood with her mother.
“Run!” he yelled. He grabbed her hand in his left one and her mother’s in his right, and they plunged into the pine forest.