Prologue

Chicago 1906

Where is he?

Torey peeked through the heavy, gold-colored curtain and gave a not-so-ladylike stomp. The least a man could do when he escorted a person to the theatre was to be in the booth when the curtain went down for the last time. She’d been sitting alone for the last half hour, and she simply couldn’t tolerate one more second.

Irritation rose and strengthened her resolve. No matter that her stepfather had told her to stay put, she was going to find him before the theatre shut down and she was left all alone.

She swept aside the curtain and stepped out before she could change her mind.

During her trek down the hallway, her too-small slippers bit into her heels. She winced, limped, and tried to endure, until finally she could bear it no longer. Halting, she rested her hand against the wall behind the curtained booths and slipped off the painful shoes. She pressed them together in one hand and hid them in the folds of her skirt. Relief flooded her as her stocking feet sank into the threads of the red carpet.

She wandered down the deserted hall, hoping to catch sight of her stepfather. Just as she was about to give up and return to her booth, she heard a voice and stopped short.

“I tell you, I cannot extend you another loan. I apologize if this inconveniences you, Amos. But perhaps you would be better served to work harder to pay off your debts than to spend your days playing the horses.”

At the sound of her stepfather’s name, Torey’s ears perked up, and she stepped closer to the booth. She drew the curtain aside enough to peek through without being seen herself.

“I need that money.” The threatening tone in Amos’s voice sent waves of dread through Torey’s stomach. It was a tone with which she was well acquainted. “Otherwise, I’m ruined.”

Ruined? What of the vast fortune Mother had left when she died? Surely Amos hadn’t squandered it all away in less than three years.

The other man appeared to have no sympathy, evidenced by his hard-edged tone. “You should have thought of that before borrowing all over town and then spending the investment money on a horse.”

“H–how could you possibly know that?”

Torey had never seen Amos so weak. The sight sent a shiver of revulsion down her spine.

“Let’s just say our mutual acquaintances have warned me about you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my son surely must have ordered the carriage around by now. He is likely wondering as to my delay.”

“Please, you’re my last hope.”

“I’m afraid there is nothing I can do, even if that were my inclination.” The gruffness of his tone had softened, and Torey could hear the compassion in the man’s voice. “The bank has a certain set of standards. I’m sure you understand. There are protocols I must adhere to.”

“You’re the president. You can do whatever you choose.” Amos’s voice dropped in pitch but carried chilling intensity. Torey shuddered.

“Yes, but I don’t own the bank. I merely oversee it for someone else.”

“But surely you are able to—”

“I’m sorry. Do you read your Bible, Mr. Williams?”

“What has that got to do with this?”

“The Word is full of sound financial advice as well as spiritual lessons. I encourage you to see to your spiritual condition. God can help you in every area of your life. Even where you fall short with money. But it really is your choice.”

“I humble myself and beg you for help, and you offer me religion?” Anger boiled in Amos’s voice. “I’m ruined!” He paced from one end of the booth to the other.

“I apologize if my advice offends you. But advice is all I can offer. Now, I really must go.”

Amos spun on his heel, his face twisted with rage. “You really must go nowhere.”

The gleam of light on a steel blade registered in Torey’s mind. She opened her mouth to scream, but her throat remained clamped shut, allowing no sound. Then it was too late. Amos’s arm came down swiftly, and the man slumped.

From deep within her, a groan made its way to Torey’s lips. Amos turned abruptly, the knife clattering to the floor at his feet. In a split second, he reached the curtain, grabbed her arm, and pulled her inside the booth. “What were you doing, eavesdropping?” he demanded, his fingers biting into her arm.

“I–I was looking for you. Th–the opera is over.” She looked at the gray-haired man lying on the floor, a red stain spreading across his white shirt. Tears filled her eyes. “Why, Amos?”

His brows narrowed. “That’s my business. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll forget what you saw.” He dropped his hold on her arm and busied himself going through the man’s pockets like a common thief. “You’re an accessory now.”

“A–a what?”

“Accessory. That means you helped commit the crime.”

“But I–I didn’t!”

A sneer marred his otherwise handsome face. “If you tell the police you saw the whole thing and didn’t warn this poor man, they’ll consider you as guilty as I. If you keep your mouth shut, they’ll think he was murdered by someone bent on stealing.” He showed her the money, then shoved it into his coat pocket and tossed the man’s wallet on the floor.

“But you killed him.” Torey’s voice rose to a shrill.

“Shut up, you little idiot!” He clamped his large hand over her mouth and hissed against her ear. “Now, you be a good girl and act as though nothing has happened. Understand?”

Torey nodded, fear licking her insides like a forest fire.

“That’s better. Let’s get out of here.”

Amos removed his hand from her mouth and grabbed her once more around her upper arm. He pushed back the curtain, letting his gaze drift down one side of the hall and back. Apparently satisfied that no one was going to notice him leaving the booth, he stepped out, dragging her with him.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Amos leaned close to her. “Get that look off your face.”

“I–I’m sorry, Amos. But your fingers are hurting my arm. I can’t help it.”

With an impatient sigh, he released her. The sudden movement caused Torey to stumble and knock against a man who had just ascended the steps and now stood with them on the landing.

“Careful,” he said. His hands went to her arms to steady her.

Curiosity mingled with amusement flashed in the gray eyes staring back at her.

“I beg your pardon,” she murmured. Embarrassed, she averted her gaze.

“Did you lose something?”

“Excuse me?” She cut her eyes upward.

Reaching down, he retrieved one of her slippers from the top step.

With a trembling hand, Torey accepted it. “Thank you, Sir.”

Amos stepped forward. “Yes, thank you. I apologize for my daughter. She is rather eccentric. Always taking off her shoes at the most inopportune moments.”

“Eccentric, you say?” The man’s brow rose. Torey couldn’t tell by his voice if he was amused or repulsed, but neither assessment of her by this man necessarily made her feel better.

“Quite,” Amos replied.

“Well. . .” The stranger cleared his throat. “I must be going now. Good evening to you both.”

Shame burned Torey’s cheeks. Not that she would ever see the man again, but did Amos have to make her appear as though she belonged in an insane asylum?

“What did you think you were doing?” Amos demanded. “We haven’t the time for your flirtations.” Torey bit back a cry as he snatched her arm once more.

They had just reached the bottom of the stairs when an anguished scream echoed through the building. “Father!”

“Don’t turn around,” Amos warned. He opened the exit door.

At the sudden commotion behind them, Amos tightened his grip on her arm.

“Someone—please! My father’s been murdered!”

Torey yanked away and turned. At the top of the steps stood the same man who had given her back her slippers. Horror filled her and bile rose to her throat. She looked at Amos.

He sneered. “Don’t speak a word, or I will kill you too.”

The evil radiating from him terrified her. Looking into his dark eyes, which flashed their hatred and warning, Torey knew. . .he was going to kill her anyway.

She couldn’t resist the sudden tears.

“Where is a porter?” Amos groused.

“All the employees have run inside to help, I believe, ” Torey said, very near to hysteria.

“Come on. We’ll have to get the carriage ourselves.”

To the back of the theatre? There would be no lights, no one to see if Amos tried to kill her. At best, she would be in his clutches forever. He’d make sure she didn’t tell anyone what he’d done. Her future loomed before her in her mind, and she shuddered.

Strong survival instincts made their presence known. “No!” she yelled. She jerked free and ran for all she was worth.