CHAPTER 25

If she’d had roller skates attached to her feet, Melinda could not have turned any more quickly. “Did I hear you correctly?” The blood pounded hot in her veins, and she wondered if one of her blood vessels might explode and kill her in the middle of her tiny office.

Lawrence assumed a casual pose in her doorway and radiated a genial smile. “No need to work yourself into a frenzy, sister. I wouldn’t have told you, but when I talked to Evan yesterday, he insisted I do so.” He stepped forward and pulled out her chair. “Maybe you should sit down before you faint.”

His relaxed countenance sent her anger soaring to new heights. “I do not feel faint, Lawrence!”

His mouth gaped open and he feigned a pained expression. “You don’t need to raise your voice. Surely you believe me.”

When he’d first arrived at her office, Melinda had listened quietly as her brother explained that several guests had been questioning his ownership of the horse he’d brought from Cleveland. But as his story continued and he revealed he’d changed the horse’s name, she became wary. Melinda didn’t want to believe her brother had stolen another man’s horse, but the story took a deeper twist when he finally admitted the ownership papers were missing.

“It matters little whether I believe you or not. If you don’t find those papers, you’ll be arrested for horse stealing. And I’ll likely be charged as an accomplice.” Merely saying the words caused her stomach to lurch.

Lawrence chuckled. “You’re being a bit dramatic, Melinda. They aren’t going to haul you off to jail.”

“How can you laugh? We left Cleveland together. After the fuss I made to the ticket agent about paying the transport fees for that horse, I’m sure he’ll remember me. And he’ll be happy to tell those wealthy guests when they question him.”

“I don’t recall your being so melodramatic in your younger years.” He raked his fingers through his hair and dropped into the chair opposite her desk. “You’re making me sorry I told you.”

She walked around the desk and sat down. “When and where did you last see the ownership papers you were given on Priceless Journey—I mean Midnight Flight?”

“They were in my valise when I boarded the train. I had no reason to look for them before now. I didn’t steal that horse, Melinda. I can explain the entire mishap. I think.”

“You think?” She lunged forward and leaned across her desk.

He leaned back in his chair and motioned for her to do the same. “There’s a little portion that has left me confused. Otherwise, I can explain.”

She sat back. “Then please do. You have my undivided attention.”

“I won the horse fair and square, and Fulton Overbrook signed the papers over to me. Problem is, he didn’t want his wife to know he’d lost the horse in a game of cards. I gave my word I wouldn’t race the horse, and I’d do my best to keep it out of sight until he could figure out how to explain to her.”

Her brother stared at her as if she should be satisfied. Melinda gestured for him to continue. “And?”

“And that’s it. I don’t know how things got in the newspaper about the horse being stolen. I’ve never heard from Fulton since he gave me the horse.”

Melinda pointed a finger at her brother. “You need to go back to your quarters and look until you find those papers, Lawrence. Otherwise, you and I are both going to be in more trouble than I want to think about.” Her head pounded as though she’d been hit with a sledgehammer. “How long did Mr. Jacoby give you to produce the papers?”

Lawrence shrugged. “Look at your book and see when he’s leaving. I figure I have at least until his departure date.”

She couldn’t believe his nonchalant attitude. “What makes you think you have until they depart? What if they decide to ride the launch over to Biscayne and wire the authorities in Cleveland? Have you thought of that possibility?”

“I suppose I’ll have to think of some way to stall them. I’m usually good at that sort of thing, so you need not worry.” He pushed up from his chair. “I shouldn’t have told you any of this. If I hadn’t been concerned one of the men or their wives would mention the whole affair, I wouldn’t have said a word.”

“Perhaps you should write a letter to Mr. Overbrook and explain the situation. He could send you a new bill of sale for the horse, couldn’t he?”

Her brother nodded. “I could, but I don’t know Mr. Overbrook very well. If he discovers I’ve lost the bill of sale, he may use that information against me. He’s a gambler and he may see this as a chance to regain the horse.” He frowned. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Lawrence, I’m afraid I do. Please, just go find those papers.” She closed her eyes and listened to his departing footsteps.

How could Lawrence and Evan, the two men she loved, create such uncertainty in her life?

Lawrence had departed a half hour earlier, yet Melinda’s head continued to throb. She closed her eyes and massaged her temples but startled at the sound of a knock.

“There you are!” Her former employer stood outside Melinda’s office doorway, peering into the room.

Melinda glanced up and forced a smile. “This is where I am every day, Mrs. Mifflin. Have you had difficulty finding me?”

“Indeed, I have. When I stop by, they tell me you’re off organizing parties or managing receptions.”

“I’m sorry to have missed you. How can I help?” From the glint in the older woman’s eyes, Melinda had a good idea Mrs. Mifflin had come to discuss her employment offer.

The older woman pulled the straight-backed chair from the wall, sat down, and scooted forward until she blocked any possible route of escape. “I thought it was time we had another little chat.” A hairpin dropped from Mrs. Mifflin’s coiffure and landed on her lap. She picked it up and held it between her thumb and forefinger. “As you can see, I am in desperate need of your help. I do hope you’ve given my offer further consideration and are prepared to tell me you’ll return to Cleveland.” Melinda opened her mouth to reply, but was stopped short when Mrs. Mifflin handed her the hairpin. “Would you?”

Melinda stood and tucked a curl into place before securing it with the pin. The entire coiffure needed to be refashioned, but Melinda didn’t mention that. Her own head ached and she longed for a few minutes of rest, but Mrs. Mifflin had settled in and wasn’t going to permit Melinda any such luxury.

“Thank you, my dear. My curls feel much more secure.” She patted the side of her head and smiled. “I do miss our time together, Melinda. I could always trust you to keep my confidences. I no longer have anyone I can trust.” She clasped Melinda’s hand. “You probably read in the papers that Ida McKinley’s brother was murdered shortly after you left Cleveland.”

Melinda gasped at the shocking news. “Murdered? No, I’d not heard. I’m sorry to hear such sad and dreadful news. I’m sure it has been a very difficult time for Mrs. McKinley.”

“And for me!” Mrs. Mifflin dropped Melinda’s hand and reached for a handkerchief.

“You knew Mrs. McKinley’s brother?”

“Yes, I know the entire family. I know I told you that before she visited last year.”

Melinda didn’t recall hearing any such thing, but to say so would serve no purpose.

“The death was a horrible tragedy. Murder!” Mrs. Mifflin shook her head. “Of course, the scandal that followed was horrid. And there I was without help—you’d deserted me only a short time before, and I had to travel to the funeral.” She clasped a hand to her chest. “I shudder to think how I suffered. I had to deal with that simpleton maid who couldn’t pick out a proper gown or lace my corset correctly.” She leaned closer. “To make matters worse, the minute we returned home, she repeated every word she’d heard about George being murdered by one of his former . . . lady friends.”

The conversation was becoming more and more confusing. “Lady friends?”

“Yes. George Saxton, Ida’s brother, was single and lived in Canton with his sister Mary Barber and her family. He had been keeping company with a widow, Eva Althouse, and was on his way home when his former lady friend, Anna George, shot him.” Mrs. Mifflin tsk-tsked and shook her head. “I cannot believe you didn’t read any of this in the paper. Don’t people down here keep abreast of what is going on in the country?”

Melinda flinched as though she’d been slapped. “You may recall that there was a flood and much devastation here in the South during that time, Mrs. Mifflin. We didn’t have time to worry about anything other than cleaning up after the destruction.”

Melinda’s response had been somewhat sharper than she’d intended. Mrs. Mifflin leaned back in her chair and crimped her features into a look of disapproval. “Well, yes, I suppose you did have your problems down here, as well. However, the whole affair was staggering for both Ida and me.”

Melinda wasn’t surprised that Mrs. Mifflin had immediately returned to the topic of her own suffering. In her time away from Mrs. Mifflin, Melinda hadn’t forgotten the matron’s selfish attitude. “I’m sorry you were forced to endure such difficulty. I do hope Mrs. McKinley’s health hasn’t deteriorated any further.”

Mrs. Mifflin’s features relaxed. She glanced over her shoulder and folded her hands in a tight knot. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but the president and Mrs. McKinley will be visiting Bridal Veil next month.”

The shocking revelation left Melinda speechless. When she finally gathered her wits, she looked at her calendar and then back at Mrs. Mifflin. “Ex-ex-exactly when is this supposed to occur?”

“This is not a supposition, Melinda; it is a fact. Both the president and Ida are going to visit Jekyl Island on the twenty-second of March, and then they’ll come to Bridal Veil for a visit. Ida said she couldn’t bear to be so close and not see me.”

“You’re absolutely positive? I haven’t been told anything about a presidential visit, Mrs. Mifflin.” Her stomach lurched at the thought. She’d be expected to host a gala that would surpass anything on Jekyl Island. The throbbing in her head now heightened to a stabbing pain.

Mrs. Mifflin glared. “Didn’t I just say it was a fact? You need not ask the same question over and over, Melinda.” She sighed. “Now then, we need to discuss matters of importance.”

Had the woman lost her mind? What could be more important than a presidential visit in six weeks’ time? “Does Mr. Zimmerman know about the presidential visit?”

Mrs. Mifflin’s forehead wrinkled into a frown. “Well, of course. Victor Morley knows, so I’m certain he would tell Mr. Zimmerman so that all will be in readiness.” She snapped open her fan and waved it back and forth. “Now, what have you decided about your return to Cleveland? Do give me an affirmative answer. Otherwise, I don’t want to hear a word.”

Melinda remained silent and Mrs. Mifflin stood. “I’m going to convince you before the season ends.”

A single hairpin dropped from Mrs. Mifflin’s coiffure and pinged on the hardwood floor as she turned and marched across the foyer.

Melinda waved at Mr. Zimmerman as he entered the clubhouse late in the afternoon. She’d been trying to locate him ever since Mrs. Mifflin’s departure. When he didn’t approach, Melinda jumped up from her chair and hurried toward him.

The moment she reached his side, she grasped his arm. “We need to talk. It’s very important.”

“During the season, everything is important, Miss Colson. I trust you have the arrangements completed for the banquet being hosted by the Bridal Veil Rowing Club? You remember it’s to be held after the competition next Sunday.” He tugged on the end of his mustache. “Jekyl has always had the privilege of hosting the event, and we want to outshine them.”

“Of course, I remember.” She wanted to tell him she’d made the arrangements long ago. Surely he realized food, décor, plaques, and trophies needed to be ordered far in advance of the event. “It is another event we need to discuss.” She leaned close. “The president’s visit to Bridal Veil in March.”

He arched his back and pinned her with a dark gaze. “How did you hear that information?”

“From a guest. One who trusted me to keep her confidence. I am speaking to you because she said you’d already been informed of the anticipated visit.”

Mr. Zimmerman grasped Melinda’s elbow and propelled her toward his office. He pushed the door closed behind them, apparently concerned about privacy rather than propriety during this conversation.

“The information you received is correct. Sometime in March, the newspapers will be notified that the president intends to visit Biscayne. I don’t know what other information will be given to the public regarding the president’s schedule, but it will not come from employees of this resort.” A ray of sunlight glistened on Mr. Zimmerman’s black hair as he stepped across the room and settled at his desk. “We can’t control what guests tell one another, or even what they tell the resort employees. However, any employee repeating this information will be discharged. We have promised secrecy. It is up to the president or his advisors to determine whether they will publicize the visit. Is that clear, Miss Colson?”

“Yes. I had no intention of repeating—”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but I like everything clarified.”

Never before had Mr. Zimmerman acted in such an abrupt manner. He obviously feared losing his own position if anything went amiss. “How am I to prepare for such esteemed guests if you don’t give me proper notice of their visit?”

Mr. Zimmerman folded his hands atop his desk. “You aren’t, Miss Colson. I will oversee this visit. If and when I need your assistance, I’ll let you know.”

Melinda bowed her head and backed toward the door as warmth spread up her neck and across her cheeks. If Mr. Zimmerman had intended to embarrass her, he’d succeeded. She walked back to her office, uncertain if she should feel offended or relieved that Mr. Zimmerman would oversee the presidential events. However, one thing remained unchanged: the pounding in her head.

She tried to push aside a feeling of defeat as she stepped inside her office. How silly to feel slighted. The last thing she needed was additional work. Rubbing her temples, her gaze fell upon an envelope bearing only her first name. Her heart fluttered at the sight of Evan’s handwriting. She needed something to cheer her today. Somehow he had known. She sat down, slid her letter opener beneath the seal, and withdrew the single sheet of paper.

Dear Melinda,

I’m sorry, but I must cancel our plans for tomorrow due to my workload at the golf course. Please forgive me. Perhaps next Friday?

Love,
Evan

The paper fluttered from her hand and dropped to the desk. How could one day provide so many disastrous events? She sank back in the chair and covered her eyes. She would not cry. It would only make her head hurt all the more.

As if to taunt her, a vision of Victoria Polter came to mind. The girl made it a practice to stop at Melinda’s office each time she returned from her riding lessons with Evan. She reveled in recounting her time with him. Melinda was certain Victoria exaggerated a bit, but today the memory of a remark by Victoria’s lady’s maid haunted Melinda. She’d overheard the maid comment to one of the other Polter servants that Evan and Victoria appeared quite enamored with each other.

Her confidence faltered as she stared at Evan’s note and considered the servant’s gossip. In the past she’d been successful in pushing the thoughts from her mind. After all, such stirrings were prompted by nothing more than childish jealousy—and she didn’t want to be considered either childish or jealous. But today her feelings seemed neither childish nor jealous. They seemed far too real and very frightening.