Mr. Cannon’s office fell silent as both men waited for Laura to decide whether she would be bold and go to Niagara.
“I’m not sure,” Laura said, nervously twisting a metal band she wore on her right hand. “I don’t know what my father would do if he found out I’d gone to Niagara. And if he knew I went with you . . .”
“There’s a man who is going to be going over the falls in a rubber ball. I saw in the paper that it’s supposed to happen in two days. They expect a large crowd. We will simply both be in the crowd. No one can fault us for that.”
“That may work. Father doesn’t mind me out if I’m with Abel.” She grimaced. “He’s worried if I don’t spend enough time with Abel, it will disrupt his business plans. I promised him—”
Mr. Cannon cleared his throat. “This chitchat is entertaining, but I do have other cases that require my time. I’ll do what I can from here. You both find a way to get to Niagara and Morton’s letters.”
“Mr. Cannon,” Laura said, “if I could have a few more minutes of your time, I have a question for you. But I don’t have any money.”
“I’ll cover the cost,” Isaac said.
“Go on and ask it. I always listen before I decide if I’ll help.” Mr. Cannon looked at the clock on the wall and then back at her.
“My father has been insisting I go out with a man named Abel Fredricks. He’s new to the city and has a reputation of being a talented investor and business owner. I don’t want to cause trouble, but I am beginning to wonder about him.” She avoided looking at Isaac as she recounted her history with Abel and their quickly budding, then stalling, relationship. “The last time we were together, he told me he is working on selling some of his properties in Florida. I have no reason to doubt him, but something doesn’t sit right. Abel has got my father convinced he needs to invest every penny he can. My father is even selling off household items so he can invest more. He believes he’s getting an exceptional bargain, and he may be, but Isaac knows that his father is also working on an investment opportunity with Abel. Doesn’t it seem strange that he would court me and do business with my father’s enemy?”
“A good businessman keeps doors open, unless there’s a reason to close them.” Mr. Cannon shrugged. “Land is in high demand. This economy is big and growing. Everyone wants a piece of it. What is it you want me to do?”
“I don’t know exactly. I simply find it strange that Abel came out of nowhere and has so quickly made connections. It all feels very calculated.”
“I’m not a good businessman myself,” Mr. Cannon said. “I undercharge far too often and have never been great at bookkeeping.” He stood and walked behind them to a file cabinet. He opened it and grabbed out the files closest to him. “But I have been hired many times to investigate bad business deals.” He threw a file on the table. “Heber Downs swindled four thousand dollars by buying fake stock certificates.” He threw down another file. “Vincent Marlan lost his home and business after falling for the Ponzi scheme. That one was in all the papers.”
“His home and business,” Isaac said, his tone somber. “Abel doesn’t seem the type of man—”
“They never do. That’s why they get away with it.” Mr. Cannon returned the files to their spot in the overstuffed cabinet. “You say he’s been courting you. Does he seem truly interested in you?”
Laura shook her head. “I don’t have a lot of experience with men. He was attentive at first. He was always flattering me. I was surprised because no one had ever paid attention to me before. I did believe his intentions were sincere. But now . . . not much has changed. We go out, we dance and eat. There are times when he is kind and other times when he seems frustrated by my presence.”
“I’m a detective,” Mr. Cannon said, looking her straight in the eye. “If you want my help, I need the details. Is he kissing you? Promising you a future?”
Heat rushed to her cheeks. “He almost kissed me once, but we were interrupted. He hasn’t tried again—I don’t know why.” She paused. Had Isaac mumbled something about him being a fool? She chose not to look at him and focused instead on Mr. Cannon’s shorthand. “We don’t talk of marriage, and I don’t even know if he is taking other women out. I asked him once, and he gave me a vague answer that wasn’t really an answer. May I be honest?”
“Please,” Mr. Cannon said, nodding, “tell us everything.”
“I don’t care for Abel Fredricks. I thought I could in the beginning. I tried to be what he wanted, and enjoyed the thrill of something new, but it has been some time since I’ve felt any excitement. I now accept his invitations only because of my father’s insistence. I’ve no desire to go out with Abel but feel compelled to until my father’s deal is closed. I realize that makes me sound heartless. I do too many things because of my father. But I am not willing to marry the man just so Bradshaw shoes can flourish. Knowing more about Abel could help me know how to get out of this mess. But I need help.”
Mr. Cannon picked up his notepad and scribbled a few notes. “Hmm. It follows the pattern I’ve seen before. Earn the trust of the father, seduce the daughter, make it seem urgent that they invest now.”
“I’ve not been seduced,” she whispered, sickened by the thought of giving herself to Abel. “I won’t let such a thing happen.”
“Poor word choice,” he said, not looking up. “I’ll do some digging. If he’s the famous businessman he claims to be, it shouldn’t be hard to discover a bit about his past dealings. And if he’s one of those money grabbers, it’ll be fun watching him fall. We’ll sort out payment later.”
“Thank you. And please, don’t let anyone know. If he is honorable, then I don’t want to tarnish his name with my skepticism.”
“You have my word.” Mr. Cannon tapped his chin with his pencil. “Are you brave?”
“No. I wish I were,” Laura said. “I’ve been rather sheltered these last few years.”
“She’s here,” Isaac said. “That’s a sign of bravery.”
“I agree,” Mr. Cannon said. “I will investigate Abel’s company. I need you two to get to Niagara and get those letters, and I think if we are smart, we could get clues on both matters at once. Laura, go with Abel. Your father would approve, and you can ask questions and see if you can discover more about his dealings. If your father is planning to close this deal next week, and if it is shady business, then we haven’t much time. Do you think you could convince Abel to go?”
The very idea of riding all the way to Niagara seated beside Abel made her stomach queasy, but there was no turning back now. “I’m willing to try.”
“Very good. Be careful. I expect Abel will turn out to be nothing more than a man eager to climb society’s ladder, but there’s a chance that greed has tainted him.” He opened the door for them. “You have my number. Telephone me if something urgent comes up. If not, we will meet again when you get back.”
They left the small, overcrowded office in silence. What had begun with a warped letter had grown into something entirely different. No longer was this about retrieving a goodbye; it was about setting the future free, pursuing justice, and building bridges. Or perhaps they were off course, chasing something that didn’t exist. Maybe there were no answers to the past. And was Abel really so bad, or was she merely afraid? She left the office weighed down by questions and fears.
“Do you still want to go to Centennial Park?” Isaac asked when they were seated side by side in his Ford.
When he’d first offered the invitation, Laura had felt the most delightful flutter, like butterflies in her stomach. The entire morning at the zoo, she’d daydreamed about walking the shores of the lake on Isaac’s arm. Now, haze veiled the brightness and joy of the morning, leaving everything mottled and unclear.
“We could talk there,” she said, sorry for the bleak tone. “If I am to go to Niagara with Abel, there is a lot I must think through.”
He nodded and turned the Ford left at the intersection. “I never thought Morton capable of any wrong. He was like a brother to me.”
“It’s all unsettling,” she whispered.
“I don’t like the idea of you traveling with Abel,” he said. “I have no say over who you court, but I don’t trust him.”
“I am not excited to go with Abel. I never feel like I am truly me when I am with him.” She traced the seam in the seat cushion. “I am more nervous to know what the letters say. I want to remember my mother how she was. I want to go on believing she was as good and kind and beautiful as I remember. I want to understand what happened, but I don’t want to let go of those memories.”
“She may have made a mistake, but that doesn’t wipe out all her good,” he said, taking another turn closer to the water.
“What if it is her fault that the company split and everything happened?” She pulled the handkerchief from her pocket and twisted it in her hands, the initials visible and then gone.
“It wouldn’t be all her fault. Our fathers were friends—they were part of it.”
When Isaac stopped the car near the narrow park that ran along the shore of Lake Erie, they both were slow to exit.
“My father said I look like my mother. Even Mr. Shaffer at the zoo knew I was Catherine Bradshaw’s daughter.”
“She was a beautiful woman,” Isaac said, and she wanted to revel in his compliment and savor the feeling of being noticed by him. But she could not shake off the image of her father scowling as he called his late wife nothing more than an actress.
“Do you think the reason my father hardly talks to me now is because I remind him of her?”
“If it is, then he is wrong to do so. You are your own person.”
“His heart may have been broken. She may have shattered it when she betrayed him.” She opened her door and stepped out into the sunlight. He joined her, walking beside her on the path near the glistening lake. The blue water was bright and clear, and the grass was green and vibrant. It was a quiet park, unlike the often-busy Delaware Park.
“Nothing she did could justify the way he’s treated you. You should not have felt alone all these years.”
“I wasn’t entirely alone,” she said, reaching for the bravery he believed she possessed. “I have had a friend through it all. A very good one.”
“You mentioned that when . . . when you were drunk.” He said the word with a touch of humor. “You said a few interesting things.”
“Oh dear,” she mumbled. “I remember some, but the memory isn’t clear. It’s fuzzy.”
“You secretly always wanted to dance with me?” He raised a brow.
“I was a child when I wished for that.” She laughed. “You were the boy who was always there. Of course I dreamed of you.”
“Are you saying you no longer want to dance with me? I was so sure you still did.”
The heaviness grew lighter, the haze clearing as they inched closer to each other with their playful teasing. With no manure to taint the air, only the light breeze, the sparks between them seemed bigger and brighter. Here, away from the fear of rumors spreading, it seemed possible that two people torn apart by life could reach across the divide.
Laura stopped walking and faced him. “I think if I were asked to dance, I would consider it.”
Isaac’s lips pulled up at one side, his face handsomer than the princes in her fairy-tale book and more desirable than the actors in moving pictures.
“Would you require me to grovel?” he asked, using a word she’d once used in a letter. “Would you secretly be trying to humiliate me?”
“Isaac,” she whispered. Did he know? Her breath came quicker. How could he know? “I have to tell you something.”
“Not yet.” He cut the small distance between them in half. His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath and let it out steadily. “First, I have something to return to you.”
“You do?” she said, his words only half resonating. His proximity unnerved her in all the right ways. “What is it?”
He reached in his pocket and pulled out a yellowed paper, creased and weathered. “I found this a long time ago.” As if in a dream, he unfolded it slowly and began to read. His tone was like honey, sweet and pure. “‘A wish so small you can’t see it at all. A wish to be seen, to be heard, and to be loved.’”
Laura’s lip quivered as she listened to her words from so long ago. The poem she’d stuffed in the tree—he had it. He kept reading. His voice and the memories sent tears rushing down her cheeks.
“How?” she whispered when he paused his reading.
Isaac took another half step closer. His hand went to her arm. A hand that was large and safe and warm. “I threw a pinecone at a head-in-the-clouds couple, and I found this. I didn’t know who the Wishing Girl was until that day at the Quarry Garden—”
“You came.”
“I did.” His breath touched her cheek. His words teased her heart. “I came. I didn’t know what to do.”
“You left. I never saw you.”
“I tried to go away and forget it all, but I couldn’t. When you wrote again, I could breathe again. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Don’t be. I knew too,” she said through her tears. “After the night at the square, I spied on you at the zoo. I saw you get my letter. I couldn’t believe it at first.”
“You toyed with me.” He smiled down at her, and she wanted to melt into his arms.
“I did.” She laughed. “I wanted to get back at you. But I couldn’t because . . . I cared about you.”
His thumb grazed across her arm, and everything in her wanted to be closer to him. The distance between them had existed too long. She wanted it gone—all of it. Long ago his words had stolen her heart, and now here he was, holding it in his hand.
“You knew.” His voice sounded as breathless as hers. “And you didn’t run.”
“No.” She pressed closer, her hand daring to go to his arm. “I didn’t run. I didn’t know how it could ever work, but I couldn’t let you go. I worried, but only because I wanted there to be a way for you to stay.”
“There is—there has to be.” An urgency in his tone chipped at her remaining reservations. She moved her hand from his arm to his shoulder and rested her head against his chest. He responded; his hands came around her waist, and they both sighed. At last, the distance was gone. They’d conquered it. They’d won.
“We’ll show the world that no grudge can keep us apart,” he said and then pressed his lips to her hair, his touch lingering. With it, broken pieces came together, and painful memories were cushioned by hope.
The blue sky, the sound of the water gently lapping the shore, and the caress of the gentle breeze—she wanted to remember it all. She closed her eyes, praying that this would not be a memory to cling to when life became unbearably hard but rather the first of many beautiful moments.
“Laura.” Isaac tightened his arms around her. She lifted her head enough to look up into his face, and he surprised her by brushing his lips against her forehead. Tender and gentle. Being in his arms was effortless. She felt at ease, safe and content. There was no pretending. He was looking at her, and he saw her. The real her.
“I’m sorry I didn’t know it was you sooner. I should have been there for you.”
In his arms, with their heads so close, she studied her dear friend. His dark eyes and equally dark brows. His hair, which had a small wave from wearing a hat. His lips. She paused on his lips. “You’re here now.”
“Laura.” Her name caught in his throat.
“Yes.”
“May I—”
“Yes.” She went up on her toes at the same time he bent to meet her. Everything slowed as their lips found each other, and then all her senses shouted at once. The taste of his kiss, the fresh scent of damp air, and the touch of his hands on her back—she should be appalled. It was all so fast, but then again, it was years in the making. Every letter had brought them one step closer to each other, and to this moment.
When he straightened and she came off her toes, his embrace loosened and he grinned. “I always wondered what it would be like to kiss my letter friend.”
“Was it all you hoped it would be?” she asked, her heart still beating far more rapidly than normal.
“It was better. But I’m told the second kiss is sweeter than the first.”
“Who told you that?” she teased, silently hoping he’d pull her back in close and kiss her again.
“Would you still let me kiss you if I told you that it was my theory and that I made it up?”
“I think you ought to test your theory. And you may want to find out if the third or the fourth is better still.”
“If you insist,” he said, already moving closer.
“I do.” The words barely escaped her lips before he kissed her again.