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Adele had no reason to return to Uncle Nicholas’ manor that morning. Grai had given her directions to the bank, and it was early enough to complete her mission and return before dark. She took a footpath from the Madison property to the stables along a slope that faced the sun. Snow evaporated into the atmosphere in heaving streams of mist, heated from the mid-morning rays and, despite the wintry air that had chilled her earlier, the day held promise. She found Mr. Fernsworth outside brushing a mule. Icy puddles of melted snow surrounded the barn entrance, so her boots sank into the sludge, and she slipped. She caught herself by grabbing the spoke of an old wooden wheel leaning up against the barn door.
Mr. Fernsworth looked up from his grooming with a cheerful and friendly smile.
“Careful there, Miss Johansson. This mud’s nothing for a pretty young lady as yourself to be rollicking in.”
“Rollicking it is, Mr. Fernsworth! I almost fell face first.” She laughed and brushed away the tiny drops of mud that had splattered on her skirt. “Beautiful day to be with the horses, isn’t it?” she said, squinting into the sun.
“Yes, ma’am. Sun’s out and warming the soul. How might I help you this morning?”
“I need a ride into Port Summerhill.”
Mr. Fernsworth took his cap off his head and scratched the bald spot on his head. “Did Mr. Barrington authorize me to take you?”
“No.”
“Well, that’s good, Miss Adele. He gave me work a plenty here to do today.”
“Yes, well, he said I should just take a horse and let you go on about your chores.”
“He did, did he? Not a buggy?”
“No, that would be too time consuming. A horse is fine.”
Mr. Fernsworth nodded, regarding her clothes.
“Sidesaddle?”
“Heavens no!” Adele declared.
“Most ladies ride with their skirts to the side, but the young ‘uns sit astride. Not sure what’s proper for you as I see you as a lady.”
“Thank you for that, but I’m not too old to sit astride, Mr. Fernsworth. I’m not even courting yet, and I’d be much more comfortable if I knew I wouldn’t slide off the saddle.”
He grunted. Nothing she wore would be appropriate for sitting astride in a saddle. Adele didn’t care. She had her woollies on; the skirt had ample length to keep her modest, but not too long to obstruct her feet. Her mission needed to be carried out immediately and nothing would stop her now. Going back to the house to change clothes could prove disastrous.
“I’ll get the mare saddled for you.”
She waited nervously as the coachman took his time inside the barn. She glanced at the horse trough, the hay wrapped in canvas sheets for winter; the tools leaning up against a shed, but her thoughts were far from the stables. They were on Grai, on his wound, and on that horrid hole he lived in. She had to get him out of there. He was too caring of a man to be treated so unfairly. Her life had become significantly more complicated since she met him. What if Benjamin had been the one who tried to kill Grai? What if her cousin found out where Grai was, or worse, that she was trying to help him? All of Benjamin’s threats suddenly had new implications. If he tried to kill once, he could very well try to kill again, and she would be one of his targets, especially if he knew she was helping Grai.
Few people would miss her. Aunt Eloise would, but only for a short time, and Adele doubted the woman would wear a mourning gown on her behalf. She certainly wouldn’t cover her mirrors! Uncle Nicholas would defend his son.
If Benjamin killed her, he for certain would murder Grai as well, and the two of them would lay side by side six feet under the ground somewhere beneath the imminent railroad tracks.
“She’s got spirit, but she won’t take off on you. Sure-footed little mare.”
Mr. Fernsworth led a bright red roan to her, a cheerful color spot against the snowy background.
“Thank you. What’s her name?”
“Tessie.” Mr. Fernsworth handed her the reins and helped her into a sidesaddle, despite she had asked for a man’s saddle.
Once atop the roan, she sighed and looked around. Grai had given her directions to the bank, but not to Port Summerhill. She had no idea which way to travel.
“Mr. Fernsworth, which is the best road to take to town?”
The man looked at her for the longest time. Puzzled? Worried? Had he never been asked directions before?
“Miss Johannsson, there’s only one way into Port Summerhill.” He pointed to the road, leaving the stables still covered with snow. “Turn left at the junction.”
“Thank you!” She gave him a friendly salute as she left.
Port Summerhill was not a large town. There weren’t over five hundred residents in all. But word had spread throughout the northwest that Washington Territory would soon become a state now that the nation had recovered from the civil war. Rumors of a future railroad brought opportunists to Port Summerhill, and the streets of the town droned with strangers. Traffic this morning, however, consisted of sailors from the merchant ships that had docked in the port. Adele couldn’t help but look at the pair of mariners standing idly in front of the hardware shop. What is it about a man in a uniform that attracts the ladies? Granted their handsome blue pullover jumpers, black silk neckerchief around their neck and flat top hats on their heads were impressive, but it was the smile one of them gave her that made her giggle. She was in no formal dress to catch their eye. But a sailor spends his days at sea and very seldom does he get to romance a woman. Before he could call her over, Adele hurried to the livery stable, Tessie trotting behind her. She handed the reins to the stable boy and asked his name, promising him her uncle would pay what little was owed the next time he came to town. From there she walked to the bank, the “red brick building with the town clock” as Grai had described it. She cared little that her boots were muddy, and her clothes smelled like sheep. She entered the busy building and walked up to an employee—a man with a pointed mustache, bushy eyebrows, and sideburns that nearly grew into his mouth.
“I would like to see Miss Mary Sellers please.”
He looked her in the eye and squinted. “Did I not see you with the Barringtons at the reception last night?”
“I was there. I didn’t notice you.”
“Niece?”
Adele groaned quietly to herself. “My relationship to the Barringtons is my private business, sir. I have important matters to discuss with Miss Mary Sellers.”
“She has an appointment with her son in ten minutes. Does she know you’re coming?”
“Yes,” Adele said. In a sense, it was true. Adele had told Miss Sellers that she wanted to visit. She just never said when.
The man straightened his waistcoat and came out from behind his till. “Follow me.”
He led her down a long hallway. When he stopped at a door that bore Miss Seller’s name, he studied her thoroughly from head to toe before he knocked, focusing the longest on her muddy boots. Adele shifted her weight.
“Is this her door?” she asked.
He cleared his throat and knocked.
“Yes,” came the reply from within the room.
“A young woman is here to see you.”
“Well, let her in, Jeremy.”
Jeremy opened the door for Adele, gave Adele an unfriendly glare, and then left.
Miss Sellers stood as soon as Adele entered. The woman must have a fetish for black dresses, for the one she wore this morning was of the same style she had worn the night before except for the lace collar. Instead, this one had green jeweled buttons on the bodice.
“Adele! I didn’t know you’d be coming so soon after our talk. Please sit down.”
Adele took a seat in a large leather chair near the woman’s wood stove. Behind Miss Sellers’ desk, a bookcase loomed over them with tomes of every size and cover. The room even smelled like books.
“Tea?” Miss Sellers offered.
“Yes, please.”
Adele regarded the treasures on the shelves as Miss Sellers poured tea for her and set it on a small, polished table next to her. What would it be like to sit comfortably by the hearth and read books all day? She never had such leisure time. She had spent her days washing her family’s clothes and cleaning house, foraging for berries and shellfish, and chopping firewood, hauling water from the spring and mending. There had been no time to read. She had taught herself when she was small with a little help from her mother. What she read had been limited, the newspaper to her father on Sundays, or selected Bible verses to her mother. Never had she opened a novel or a textbook like the ones Mary Sellers had.
“Does your uncle know you’ve come?”
“No. Why?”
“Because if he did, I would assume he came with you, and then we would have to converse on a strictly social level.”
Adele stared at her. “What do you mean?”
“Adele, Nicholas Barrington has ears everywhere. And eyes!” She laughed and shook her head. “The man keeps memorandums on everyone.”
“I came alone.”
“That was brave of you.”
“Brave? Why?”
“Venturing any distance by yourself could be dangerous for a young lady. The residents of Port Summerhill are good people, but we do have our share of crime.”
“I assumed nothing would happen to me in broad daylight. I expect to return home well before the sun goes down.”
Miss Sellers sipped her tea, but her eyes did not waver off Adele.
“What brings you to see me, other than our conversation last night?”
“I wanted to ask you if you have any idea who might have attacked Grai Madison?” She bit her lip, thinking her question crass, but Adele had little use for chatter. She ought to get straight to the point.
“No! Why?” Mary Sellers remained affected by the sudden outburst. She set her teacup on its saucer but still held it near her lips.
“I just thought working so closely with legal documents you might have some idea who would be interested in killing him. Who is a suspect and who is not?”
“Even if I had an opinion, it wouldn’t be my place to speak it. As you say, I work closely with business executives. I would be in grave trouble were I to implicate anyone of murder.”
“No motives?”
She laughed and set her cup and saucer down. “There’s motive enough, child. I told you that last night. The railroad. Cyrus Madison’s piece of property is a prime location for the terminal. Whoever owns it when the delegates come from San Francisco with a proposal will make a fortune. Grai wouldn’t sell. He wanted to rebuild the estate and make it a sanctuary. He never would have permitted a train station on his property.”
“So, you’re saying that anyone involved with the railroad might have killed him?”
She shrugged. “I suppose that’s what I’m saying.”
“What does the marshal think?”
“Why, I have no idea. I never talked to him about Grai’s disappearance. No one has done any investigating because they never found a body. You can’t arrest anyone for murder if there’s no proof a murder took place. You need a body.”
“But everyone says it was murder.”
“The young man has disappeared off the face of the earth. Those of us who knew him are certain he would never leave Port Summerhill without telling someone. Besides, there is some evidence of his passing.”
“What evidence?”
“Adele, please.”
“What did they find?”
“Why are you so interested in someone you never met?”
“I couldn’t sleep. My uncle is very much involved in the railroad, and I thought he would want to know what happened. Perhaps Port Summerhill could take precautions so that no one else was hurt.”
Miss Sellers straightened the folds on her dress.
“So, I ask again, what evidence did they find that Grai was murdered?”
“The ground where he fell was soiled with blood and personal items had fallen out of his pockets. And his briefcase, I suppose. That’s what Richard...I mean, Mr. Bonneville told me. He said someone found his briefcase.”
Miss Sellers stood and walked to the fireplace, holding her hands out to the fire to warm them. Adele drank her tea, making a point of not holding her pinkie out. She had thought Mary Sellers would have been more helpful, at least more sympathetic, but her manner mirrored that of everyone else’s’ she met at the party the night before. Adele placed her cup in its saucer on the end table and cleared her throat.
“Grai Madison is still alive.”
Mary Sellers’ face paled with a look of shock. She sank into a chair across from Adele. “Where?”
“I can’t tell you where he is. He’s deathly afraid of the men who tried to kill him. But he sent me here to ask you to find a lawyer for him—letting no one else know he’s alive.”
“How did you meet him?”
“I can’t tell you.”
Miss Sellers stared at her so long that Adele shifted and looked away.
“Is he well?”
Adele shrugged her shoulders. “He’s as well as can be expected considering the trauma he went through. You and I are the only people who know. It has to be a secret aside from the lawyer. We need to find out who is behind the attack.”
“Oh, Adele, this is serious. Perhaps the marshal should know?”
“No! Maybe once we have names.” Adele’s face flushed. She folded her hands together so as not to bring attention to her trembling. She has a suspect—Benjamin Barrington. Too afraid to reveal her cousin’s role in the would-be murder, she held her tongue.
“Grai wanted to know if you could somehow stop probate on his property or at least hold the process up. My uncle was going to give earnest money next week, and Grai is devastated. It means so much for him not to lose the estate.”
“Has Grai seen anyone else?”
Adele shook her head. “No. He’s hiding.”
“You seem to know quite a bit about him, for someone who never met him before.”
“I’ve talked to him.”
Miss Sellers raised a brow. “I see. Well, I don’t think Mr. Bonneville is ready to sell, even if it does go through probate. Your uncle is a hard man to say no to, but I think he’s going to be frustrated this time. I will do what I can. Are you attempting to solve this crime on your own, young lady?”
Adele shook her head. But the woman must know she’s lying.
“I would caution against it. Whoever sought to kill him would consider you a target as well if they knew you were the sleuth on the case. A young girl from Port Galleon with a past like yours would not raise much of an eyebrow should she suddenly be disposed of.”
Adele frowned.
“I’ll be careful no matter what I do,” she responded.
“Good. I am overjoyed to know that Grai is still alive. He should have come with you to see a doctor. There are those in town who could give him the protection he deserves.”
“There are...issues, Miss Sellers. Issues that he needs to tend to before he sees anyone.” She couldn’t tell Miss Sellers that Grai was separated from his spirit and half of him walks around like a ghost. If rumors were going to spread, that would be the one! Grai didn’t need the residents of Port Summerhill terrified of him. It could trigger more people wanting to kill him!
“I could help Grai if I knew where he was, and what condition he was in.”
“I’m sorry. That would have to be his decision to make, not mine.”
“Very well. I will find the young man a lawyer.”
“Thank you.”
Adele rose. “I need to be on my way. I trust we’ll be in contact perhaps before the week is up?”
“Perhaps,” Miss Sellers said.
Adele nodded a goodbye, but before she left the office, Matt walked in. She nearly bumped into him when the door swung open.
“Oh!” Adele gasped.
“Mother, I didn’t know you had someone in the office.” He bowed and Adele gave him a formal curtsy.
“Adele was just leaving,” Mary Sellers said. “Perchance, you’d like to escort her home. We can meet when you return. I fear her presence in Port Summerhill might be dangerous, and for a young lady to ride on that mountain trail back home in the snow could be hazardous.”
Surprised at the suggestion, Adele shook her head. “That’s all right, Miss Sellers, I have another stop to make before I leave. Besides, I don’t think I’m in any danger.”
“A wonderful idea, mother! Miss Johansson,” Matt bowed to Adele again, ignoring her refusal. “I would enjoy the ride, and my horse is already saddled.”
“I will return alone, thank you,” Adele reiterated. His smile folded into a frown.
“My regrets, then. It appears your rejection of me goes well beyond the dance floor.”
His response stupefied her, and she stiffened. She barely knew the man. Surely he’d been refused a dance from a stranger before.
“Please, don’t take it personally. It has nothing to do with you, only that I’m not ready to go home.”
“I can wait,” he said. She glared, and he relented.
“Very well. As you wish.” He tipped his hat.
Adele regarded them both before she strolled out of Mary Seller’s office, satisfied with what she had accomplished with Miss Sellers and perturbed at her son for being so crude.
She quickly forgot him once she left the bank and stepped in the frosty morning air. Her mind spun in various directions, contemplating what her next steps should be and who she should talk to if anyone. Since she was in Port Summerhill already, it seemed favorable to visit the marshal.
Adele had met Marshal Carry at the reception, introduced by her uncle. They had spoken briefly but the fact that he was a law officer, and she the daughter of felons who’d been hanged in Port Summerhill made their conversation awkward. Adele took a deep breath.
The quiet, good-looking man rose cordially when she walked into the jailhouse.
“Miss Johansson, I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Good morning, Marshal.”
“There’s no sort of trouble, is there?”
“No, not exactly, sir,” she said. “I just had some questions that I thought you might be able to answer.”
The marshal gave her a bewildered frown and peered out the window. “You came into town alone?”
“Yes. Why?”
“It’s not a safe thing for you to do.” His face turned red as he offered her a seat. “I don’t mean to offend you, but there are some folks who witnessed the hanging. There’s talk around town and many of the newsmongers have negative opinions of your family.”
“Of me?”
“Well, it would seem that way. You’d be safer having an escort.”
“Thank you for the advice.” She sat across from him and folded her hands on her lap, not certain how she should begin.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
“I was wondering if you have been investigating the murder of Grai Madison.”
After speaking, she realized how out of place her inquiry must seem. She wasn’t supposed to have known Grai. The attempted murder happened before she arrived in Port Summerhill. She may have just made another bloomer and Marshal Carry’s gawk confirmed it.
“What do you know about Grai Madison?” he asked.
“Nothing. But I think there’s a link to him and the man my parents killed, and I just wondered if you have any suspects, or if you know who his murderer is.”
“Grai’s body was never found. You can’t investigate a murder if no one was murdered. I’m curious to know why you’re asking about him, Miss Johansson.”
Adele stared at him wide-eyed, realizing she opened the door to being a suspect herself.
“I...I just heard the story about him from Mary Sellers and was mortified by his demise.”
“We don’t know what happened to him.”
“No, I suppose you’re right.” She stood to leave. She’d made enough of a fool of herself.
“You’re correct, however,” he said before she made it to the door. “There is a link between the man your parents murdered and Grai’s family, and the property for that matter. As you know from the trial, one of Professor Reinhardt’s murderers Delaney is connected to Cyrus Madison, Grai’s grandfather. Delaney is still at large. He’s a dangerous criminal, Miss Johansson. I suggest you not ask any more questions concerning Grai Madison or the Madison estate unless you have an escort with a firearm.”
“Thank you for the warning, and for listening. I’m headed home now. And I will take your advice and not come into town alone again.”
He stood with her, gentlemen are supposed to do that sort of thing, but he didn’t see her to the door. He seemed too stunned at her presence.
As soon as she walked outside, her stomach churned. She’d been too bold today, she feared, and the warning from both the marshal and Miss Sellers made her sweat. She’d like to leave town immediately, but she had one more stop.
There were no more handsome sailors on the street to distract her, and a cloud cover darkened the sky. It would snow again soon so she hurried to her next destination. As she walked past the shops along the boardwalk, she secretly wished Aunt Eloise had accompanied her.
Adele would have enjoyed being in town had she not snuck away. There were lovely items for sale in the mercantile window, though she had to avoid looking at the hand-carved casket exhibit. She’d had enough of death. The pickle barrel tempted her, and the rolls of cheeses reminded her she hadn’t eaten. She decided to purchase a bite of food on her uncle’s tab before she went home—a sausage and some penny-candy to suck on for the ride. As she entered the shop, the wood floor creaked under her boots. A pot-belly stove rumbled with heat, a cat jumped from a chair next to it, and a bald man stepped out from the back room.
“How might I help you, Miss?” he asked.
“I thought perhaps I could put a bite of food on my uncle’s tab this morning before my ride home. Not much, if it’s all right with you.”
“Hm, well, that depends on who your uncle is.”
“Mr. Nicholas Barrington.”
The man waved and laughed. “No problem there. He’s one of my best customers, always pays on time. Pick what you want.”
Before Adele scouted through the food bins, she pulled a box of gauze from the shelf and placed it on the counter. She thought twice and then grabbed another and stacked it on top of the first box. As she considered which cheese she should buy, or whether to purchase a pretzel, she noticed Matt outside the shop talking to a man. She thought nothing of it when Matt walked away. The man he had spoken to entered the shop, but with his high collar frock and low sitting cap, and the sun behind him, she barely could tell what he looked like. He watched her. His gaze fell to the gauze she had placed on the counter, and then he strolled to the rear of the store, browsing through the farm tools by the back door. She thought little of him until after the merchant recorded her purchase, and she went outside and walked toward the stables. Boots resounded on the boardwalk shortly after she left the mercantile and steady footsteps remained a few feet behind her on the way to the livery. She glanced over her shoulder before she entered the barn and saw him leaning against the door. When she mounted Tessie, the man also saddled a horse.
Foolish fears. Mary Seller’s words simply made her mistrustful. She had no reason to be afraid of anyone in Port Summerhill. Very few people even knew her, and those who did were friends of her uncle’s. Who would do her harm? It was merely a coincidence that Marshal Carry gave her the same warning as Miss Sellers. They were concerned citizens looking out after her.
She found the trail home easy enough, and by the time she got beyond town, past the last country cottage, the sky had darkened. A winter chill seeped through her woolen coat. Limbs of fir laden with snow hung low over the trail, and the tracks her horse had made that morning were swept clean by drifting winds. Snow fell again, and poor Tessie plodded uphill with an audible wheeze. Adele was fine taking her time—despite the cold, she had enough garments on to keep her protected from frostbite. Still, the day dimmed quicker than she would have liked, so she kept a sharp eye out for the junction, not sure how soon she’d arrive. If she passed the crossroads, she had no idea where the trail she was on would take her.
Out of angst, she glanced over her shoulder. That couldn’t be someone following her, could it? Her heart leaped to her throat, and she made a clicking sound to Tessie. The horse lifted her head and twitched her ears but did not speed up. Adele looked over her shoulder again. The man rode a large black horse with long legs that carried him with a quick stride. He’d be at her side in minutes. There was a chance he had been sent by Mary Sellers as an escort since Matt had been talking to him. It seemed odd though to send a stranger to follow her like this with no word, and so Adele doubted her conjecture.
“Come, Tessie, let’s hurry and get you some oats,” she whispered in the horse’s ears. Tessie responded with only a head toss, so Adele nudged her with her knees. For a few moments, the horse took a quicker gait but soon slowed again. Adele sighed. It was already too late. The man’s long-legged steed moved quickly, and she could hear him breathing now. He trotted behind her.
“Stop,” he called.
Bundled up in a winter frock, his cap pulled low over his head and a scarf wrapped over his face covering his nose, his disguise prevented her from identifying him, not that she knew many people from Port Summerhill.
When she didn’t stop, he trotted his horse up to her and pulled her reins. Tessie halted.
“Who are you? What do you want?” Adele yanked the reins from his hands, but he held on to them.
“Where is he?” The man had brown eyes, squinted angrily at her, and his voice was muffled from the bandana over his mouth.
“Who?”
“Don’t play ignorant, woman. I can follow you and find him myself, or you can tell me where he’s hiding and stay out of the way.”
“Let go of my horse!” Adele demanded, pulling on the reins again. If she had a more energetic steed, she’d simply gallop away, but Tessie wouldn’t exert herself.
“You’re going to find yourself bloodied and in a ditch, woman,” he said. “What’s going on in Port Summerhill is no business of yours. No one wants to hurt you, but they will if you keep snooping around.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He laughed. “You make a lousy liar. Tell me where he is.”
“Who?”
“Grai Madison.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, and her cheeks flushed as if she had a fever. She tried not to show it.
“I don’t know who that is.”
“Who’s the gauze for woman?”
“It’s none of your business. But if you must know, I’m taking it to my uncle.”
He laughed a gruff and cynical laugh. “Right. It doesn’t matter. Now that we know he’s alive, it’ll be easy enough to find him. Especially with a fool girl like yourself leading the way.”
The man glanced up ahead, released her reins, and when Adele prodded Tessie onward, he stayed behind—and watched.
She would not go directly to Grai today.