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NICO DIDN’T SLEEP AT all that night, not for all his twisting and turning, wrapping himself up in the thin sheet that stuck to him in the dampness of the humid night.
His hotel room window was wide open, and he watched the sun slip up over the horizon, the burst of colors reaching out endlessly at the edge of his vision, orange and pink, lavender and robin’s egg blue.
Could Faith see the sunrise from her bedroom window? Perhaps she was watching it now, and knowing how much attention she paid to every detail, she would appreciate it as much as he was, enjoying the hand of God in an everyday occurrence that was no less perfect for how often they saw it.
The wake-up knock came at the usual time, and he took his time washing up, considering how he might explain what he was trying to tell Faith yesterday.
She was so sheltered and unaware of life outside of the cocoon of Newport and her family, and he really didn’t want to shatter that peaceful bubble that kept her safe and happy.
But reality was going to reach here at some point in time, and maybe that was now.
Another knock came as he pulled a clean shirt over his head, and he opened the door to find Mr. Armstrong’s lawyer along with a police officer who looked tired and perhaps a little apologetic.
“I need a word with you, young man.”
The lawyer pushed past Nico and the officer shrugged before Nico turned to watch the stiff-necked man who had looked him over yesterday with the same disdain Nico recalled the courier boy had shown him.
He moved quickly around the small room, staring at Nico’s Bible and the few toiletries as well as the suitcase Nico had propped up against the wall.
What did he hope to find? If he suspected that Nico had stolen the missing papers, what could possibly be here that would prove it? After all, the plans and information were already in Armstrong’s adversary’s hands, so they wouldn’t be here.
There was no point in asking, because the man seemed dead set on finding something, anything, that would corroborate his suspicion.
Was it because, as Nico suspected, he was Italian? It wouldn’t be the first time he or someone in his family or even their neighborhood was falsely accused based on nationality alone.
“It would be best if you admitted your crime and came forward with information on how you were hired and paid. Names, amounts, that sort of thing.”
Best for who, he wanted to ask, but instead, he paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, watching the man blink rapidly in annoyance over the wait.
“I have nothing to tell you, because I am not involved. I do hope you find the culprit, as this matter does affect my employer.”
The lawyer wrinkled his nose and sniffed loudly.
“You’ve seen, officer, that’s I’ve given him a chance to explain, and he had rudely refused. I insist that you take him to the station for further questioning.”
Nico took a step back, finding himself at the edge of his bed. This was going too far, when there was nothing to link him to the theft.
Had the courier boy blamed him?
He remembered the look the courier boy gave him, that sneer that he had seen often when he wasn’t in his own neighborhood. So many people in Manhattan didn’t like newcomers and immigrants, and others openly disdained those from particular countries.
Like Italy.
Nico suspected that was what the courier had meant when he looked at him with disgust, but he had thought nothing of it at the time. That boy worked for Thomas’ parents, Faith’s aunt and uncle, and he knew the family as a whole was honorable.
But in such a large business, could they know each and every worker well enough to discern if they were susceptible to bribes when handling private information?
And the boy was so young . . .
“I’m sorry, sir, but you see, Mr. Armstrong is a very powerful man.”
The officer shook his head as he stepped past the lawyer, who lifted his pointy chin in triumph as Nico frowned.
“I don’t want any trouble, so I’ll come to the police station. I have nothing to hide.”
Nico had never seen the inside of a police station before, but he knew that he couldn’t be accused of a crime without evidence.
Or so he thought.
As he walked side by side with the officer, stopping by the front desk to let the man with the tiny hat on his head know that he would be out for the day, he paused before walking away.
“Would you please send a note around to the Travers residence, to let them know I’m at the police station? Thank you.”
The tiny hat slid a bit as the man nodded, his eyes wide as his gaze moved from Nico to the police officer and then to the lawyer.
Nico didn’t want to alarm Mr. Travers, but he also didn’t want him to wonder why he wasn’t there at his usual time.
And Faith?
Their brief time alone together gave him hope that she would see this for what it was, a false accusation, but what would her parents think?
He would have to speak with them about courting her, and soon. Would they hold this against him, even though he was certain there was no way he could be held accountable?
His thoughts muddled together, and he felt the tension in his body grow until his teeth were clenching.
Please, Lord, give me patience so I can manage this situation with grace.
The police station wasn’t far from his hotel, and when Nico saw it come into view he fought the urge to stop walking, to fight against this unfair treatment.
But it would only make him look guilty, and cause trouble for Mr. Travers.
“We have a witness who states that he saw you with the tube of plans, and that is enough to hold you here for further questioning.”
As soon as Nico stepped into the small building, the lawyer cut off his path with these words, and Nico turned to find a second police officer behind him.
“Is there someone we should contact?”
He seemed as apologetic as the first officer, as if his hands were tied and he was at the mercy of Armstrong’s employee.
As if they all were.
“No, thank you. I’ve had a note sent out from my hotel.”
There was no reason to be unkind to the officers, who were only doing as they were told, so he kept his tone calm and civil.
Hopefully this wouldn’t get back to his parents, and would be resolved before they could find out and become worried.
“You can wait in here.”
The first officer pointed down an open hallway, where Nico could see bars along the walls.
Oh, no.
It made no sense for Mr. Armstrong or this lawyer of his to put this crime on his head, because finding the real thief would lead to the culprit behind this, and allow Mr. Armstrong to put a stop to whatever was going on.
Otherwise, this would continue. Perhaps it was an ongoing rivalry that would only grow if there was no proof of how the competitor got his hands on the plans and information.
The lawyer smiled for the first time that morning, a cold thinning of lips that made Nico certain the man was aware that he wasn’t guilty.
How was this serving his employer?
“The more of you off the streets, the better. You should have stayed in your own country.”
And there it was. Nothing he hadn’t heard before, but at least Nico was sure now where he stood with this man.
Did Mr. Armstrong bear the same sentiment?
“I demand to see your captain!”
The door behind them all slammed shut, and Nico realized he hadn’t even heard it open. Mr. Travers stood just inside of it, his voice louder than Nico had ever heard it, with an edge that made all of them stare.
Mr. Travers took off his gray hat and dropped it on the counter, not bothering to look at the group of them standing near the hallway. An officer sitting at a desk stood up quickly, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry, sir, but he’s out at the moment. I can take a message . . .”
“That won’t do.”
Nico heard a horse outside, its hooves shuffling in the dusty road. The hotel must have telephoned rather than sending a note, for it hadn’t taken long for Mr. Travers to get here.
He hadn’t expected his employer to come, but now, he was relieved that the man was here, clearly furious on his behalf.
“You have no reason to harass Mr. d’Amici in this manner. I stake my reputation on his innocence, and as it affects my business, there would be no reason for me to claim otherwise.”
At first, the lawyer seemed to be shaken a bit by Mr. Travers’ appearance, and his eyes shifted from side to side as if he was trying to decide what to do.
“Ah, you make a good point, Mr. Travers, but if you were unaware that this man was, shall we say, in the pocket of our competitor, it would make perfect sense.”
Mr. Travers came closer to them, and Nico watched a flush of anger rise through his employer’s cheeks.
But he hadn’t looked at Nico yet, and Nico worried that he might actually think he was guilty.
Which didn’t explain why he was here defending him.
“I have money and influence of my own, and have no need to be underhanded in my business, or personal, dealings. I demand an apology, sir, right now.”
“Now, now, Mr. Travers, why don’t . . .”
One of the officers tried to get between Mr. Travers and the lawyer, but Mr. Travers pushed him away, and the lawyer’s head shifted back on his neck, as if that would get him any further away from Mr. Travers.
“Well, seeing as you’re a Travers, I suppose I may have crossed a line somewhere, and am sorry for it. I’m sure Mr. Armstrong wouldn’t approve of me speaking to someone of your stature this way.”
Nico closed his eyes, asking the Lord to give him patience, to help him keep his own mouth shut so he didn’t say anything to make this situation more difficult for himself or Mr. Travers.
It wasn’t like him to stand aside while someone else stood up for him, but this lawyer wasn’t about to listen to a word he said, and the police were clearly at Mr. Armstrong’s mercy.
“I’ll take responsibility for him, and you know where he is staying, so there’s no need to keep him here while the investigation continues.”
There were whispers from behind the counter, and after a few moments of silence that felt like hours, Mr. Travers slid his gaze to Nico, just as the door opened and another police officer entered the building.
“I’m told there's some difficulty with a suspect here.”
It was the police captain, and when he turned to frown at Nico, Nico closed his eyes.
This small town relayed information through gossip faster than a telephone. How long would it take before Faith and her family knew what was happening?
And why shouldn’t they believe what they heard, especially if the police were involved?
“Mr. Travers, I’m certainly surprised to see you here. What can I do for you on this fine day?”
Nico’s employer, usually very polite, was obviously in no mood for pleasantries as his eyes flashed.
“I’m sure you’ve met the Armstrong lawyer, who has been making unfounded accusations towards my employee. I’ve arrived to find them just about to put him behind bars, without reason, and I demand that he be released. I will personally vouch for him and his whereabouts until the thief is found.”
Nico felt his heart leap in his chest, knowing that this man, who had known him for only about six weeks, was putting his own reputation at stake for him.
When he and his parents were considering architects for their restaurant during the beginning of this year, there had been something about William Travers Design that spoke to them. He was known for his practical and inventive work, but what struck them was his reputation.
His family was old and rich, of course, but he had a personal history that spoke of redemption and faith, of a commitment to helping others just as the family he married into did.
People of their class could do little to hide their indiscretions and struggles, and anyone who kept their ears open in Manhattan had heard the tale of the Travers heir, and how he had shed his irresponsible skin to find love with the oldest Davenport girl.
Nico would never dare to ask Mr. Travers about his past, and as his parents taught him, he believed that what mattered was how one conducted themselves in the here and now.
And Mr. Travers, fighting for Nico’s freedom, was proving himself one of the most honorable people Nico had ever known.