Hello, Madeline.” Jonah stepped in front of the pair. “Townsend,” he added as he gave the reporter a look that let him know how difficult it was to choose to talk to him rather than throttle him.

“What are you doing here?” Madeline asked.

“Hold on here,” the Daily News reporter said as he stopped short to avoid a collision with Jonah. “First her and now you.”

“That’s right,” Madeline said to Jonah. “I got here first.”

“So I see.”

Townsend shook his head. “This woman believes some kind of nonsense about an article she claims I wrote. If that’s why you’re here, then you’re both wasting your time.”

“Because you don’t think you have to answer my questions?” Jonah asked.

“Well, I don’t,” he said. “I am a reporter and as such I am protected by freedom of the press, so that much is true.”

“I have no problem taking you down to the police station and allowing Officer Pearson to ask them. Is that what you want, or do you think maybe you can change your mind and speak to me first?”

“No, he will be speaking to me first,” Madeline said.

Jonah glared at her, but Madeline ignored him. He turned his attention to Townsend.

“I’m not talking to either of you out here on Market Street,” Townsend said. “Look around you. Do you think I want to say anything that could be overheard?”

“Then I suppose you need to make your choice,” Jonah said. “We can go back inside, we can go over to the police station, or we can walk around the corner to my house and talk there. No matter which of these options you pick, you and I will be having a conversation today.”

“You will be talking to me too,” Madeline said. “First,” she added.

He offered her a sideways look that told her to keep quiet. Again she ignored him.

“I suggest you choose the Cahill property,” she said. “Especially since you think you know so much about buried treasure. While you’re there, you can prove the article you wrote is true and dig some up to show us.”

“Oh you would like that, wouldn’t you, Madeline?” Jonah said, turning toward her. “Then you could have your story about Lafitte gold handed to you by this guy.”

“Not just gold, Jonah,” she snapped. “There could be silver, precious gems, and all sorts of other things. However, if I was going to get any information out of this man regarding Lafitte treasure or anything else, do you really think this is how I would choose to do it?”

The truth of that statement was hard to ignore. For all her irritating qualities, Madeline Latour was an intelligent woman. And an intelligent woman would know better than to draw attention to an investigation she wanted to keep secret.

Still, she was here. With Townsend. And she had gotten to him first.

Jonah glared at her and then returned his attention to the reporter. “Time’s up. Where is this interview going to happen, Townsend?”

“Shortest distance is to your place, Cahill,” he said as he started walking that way. “And for the record, when I followed you from the train station that day, I had no idea that was your family home.”

“Didn’t seem to matter.” Jonah fell into step beside him.

“Hey, all I knew was that a Pinkerton man was in town, and I figured he might be wanting to follow up on those reports of criminal mischief.”

They turned the corner, and the Cahill property came into view. A few minutes later, they had arrived.

“Can’t we wait until we get inside?” Townsend said, looking miserable.

“We aren’t going inside,” Jonah snapped. “You’re not fit to meet my family until I decide you are.”

Jonah paused to open the gate and then directed them all around to the back of the house where an outdoor table and chairs awaited. Townsend did as he was told and followed them.

He took the seat nearest Townsend. If the Daily News reporter decided to make a run for it, Jonah didn’t want anything—or anyone—to impede his ability to catch the man.

The fat orange cat hurried over from its perch beneath the fig tree to thread itself around his ankles. Jonah reached down and scratched its ears.

“All right, Townsend,” he said. “Spill your guts. Why did you write that article?”

“I already told you,” the reporter protested, “I do not know what you are talking about.”

Jonah held his temper in check as he responded. “We are talking about the article regarding the property where you are now located, Mr. Townsend. Why did you write it and on what is your information based? And I warn you that while Miss Latour got to you first this morning, I assure you I am the one you need to be answering first.”

Madeline shook her head. “I believe Detective Cahill and I have similar questions. I propose that I will be asking them much more nicely than he will.”

Jonah let out a long breath. “All right. I am sorry, Miss Latour, for the slight. Mr. Townsend, do not ignore your esteemed colleague from the Picayune, but also do not forget you are here to answer to me.”

“Wait.” He turned to Madeline. “You work at the Picayune?”

“I do.”

“Well, how about that? I always wanted to work at the Picayune. Do you think you might put a word in for me? I’ve done some serious journalist work since I got here, most recently—”

“Most recently the piece on the Lafitte treasure that lies beneath Cahill soil,” Jonah interjected. “Let’s get right to it, Townsend. Where did you get your information for that article, and are you missing a shovel?”

Townsend opened his mouth to speak. Jonah held up his hand to silence him.

“And before you answer, I want you to think about this carefully. Remember, you have just sold yourself to us as a reporter of some considerable skills, have you not?”

At Townsend’s nod, Jonah continued. “And a reporter of some considerable skills ought to be able to give me the answer to that question, especially given the fact that you are employed by that paper, wouldn’t you think?”

Townsend sighed. “One would think,” he agreed. “Look, you can ask me as many times as you want, and all I can say to you is that I do not know who put that article into the paper today.”

“Do you know who wrote it, then?” Madeline asked.

“I can find out,” Townsend told her. “I just need to do some digging.”

“And speaking of digging,” he and Madeline said together as the cat jumped up into Jonah’s lap.

Jonah set Stowaway back on the ground and then fixed Madeline with a look before turning his attention to the man he’d brought here to question. “As you know, someone has been digging holes on this property. Who was it?”

Townsend leaned back in his chair and held out his hands as if physically fending off the question. “Hey now, I am the one who told you about that, and I am also the one who asked you if you knew who it was.”

“Well, I don’t,” Jonah said. “So who was it?”

He looked around, first at Madeline and then back at Jonah. “Why would I ask if I knew?”

“To throw one of us off?” He glanced at Madeline. “Miss Latour is somewhat of an amateur treasure hunter. Do you think she dug those holes?”

“Of course not,” Townsend said.

“You said that awfully quickly.” Ignoring Madeline’s look of outrage, he focused on Townsend. “How do you know?”

“Because if she had, she would have covered them back up.”

Jonah shook his head. “Why do you say that?”

Townsend’s laugh held no humor. “Reporters are trained to be as unobtrusive as possible. We blend in and we do our jobs. Now maybe I’m still learning how to do that, but I would bet Miss Latour is pretty good at it. So given that, if she’s investigating treasure, maybe she would dig holes to see what she could find, but wouldn’t she cover them back up afterward to keep anyone else from knowing she’d been there?”

The truth of that statement hit Jonah in the gut. All this time he had been so focused on Madeline as a possible suspect, he’d missed the clues that told him it could not be her.

“Thank you, Mr. Townsend,” Madeline said gently, picking up the thread of the questioning. “As a fellow reporter, I understand the need to protect a source. I also understand that it is a matter of journalistic integrity to verify the information we receive. Would you agree?”

“Oh, I definitely would, Miss Latour,” he said eagerly. “Why, all it takes is for some folks to find out you’re a reporter and the next thing you know they’re giving you all sorts of information that may or may not be the truth.”

“And how do you decide what is true from what is not true?” Jonah interjected.

Townsend seemed happy to be asked a question not directly related to the matter at hand. He grinned and leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Well, you see,” he began, “first and foremost a reporter has to develop a gut sense for when someone’s telling him the truth. He’s got to know that what he is writing and putting out there in the paper for the world to read is the facts as they truly exist. That’s the kind of reporter I am, Miss Latour.”

Madeline looked at Jonah and rolled her eyes. Keeping his expression neutral, Jonah continued.

“So who dug the holes, Townsend?”

“I told you I don’t know,” he shouted as he stood.

“Sit down,” Jonah told him.

“Something going on back here?” Officer Pearson called as he walked around the house.

“We were just having a conversation with Mr. Townsend of the Daily News regarding these holes that have been dug on the property.”

“Is that so?” the policeman said as he joined them.

Jonah turned to Madeline. “Miss Latour, this is Officer Pearson of the Galveston Police Department. He is the gentleman who was kind enough to watch over my mother and sister while we were away being shot at.”

At Jonah’s statement, the police officer’s brows went up. “You didn’t mention anything about being shot at, Jonah.”

“That’s because they missed. Both times. And honestly, I’m pretty sure they were after Miss Latour. So, Thomas Pearson, please meet Miss Madeline Latour.”

Madeline and the officer exchanged pleasantries, and then Pearson took the last empty chair on the patio, directly across from the Daily News reporter. “So what did you tell them, Mr. Townsend?”

“I told them I don’t know,” he said. “Don’t know who dug those holes and don’t know who put that article out in the paper today.”

The police officer shrugged as he looked at Jonah. “Sounds like he doesn’t know.”

“It does sound that way,” Jonah conceded. “However, he has assured us that he can use his above average investigative skills to uncover who did.”

“Well, that is a relief.” Pearson turned his attention to Madeline. “I don’t believe I have seen you here in Galveston before. Are you just visiting?”

“I am here with my employer on assignment,” she told him.

Townsend’s eyes widened. “There are others from the Picayune staff here in Galveston? How was I not made aware of this?”

Madeline shook her head. “No, this has nothing to do with my job at the Picayune. My employer is a widow lady,” she said. “I am recording her memories for her.”

“Anything interesting?” Townsend said as he leaned toward her.

“Mr. Townsend,” she said in that I-cannot-believe-you-said-that voice that Jonah knew too well, “everything I record for my employer is private information. I’m sure you understand.”

“Sure, of course,” he said. “Forget I asked. Unless you change your mind, that is.” Townsend laughed at his own joke, but no one else joined him.

Jonah stood, and Officer Pearson joined him. “I think we’re done here.”

“So soon?” Townsend said. “I had some questions of my own. Remember, I did promise to find out who is behind the article and digging.”

Jonah frowned. “If you’re as good as you say you are, you will bring me a name soon.”

Townsend said his goodbyes and walked away. “Pearson,” Jonah said. “Would you mind seeing he gets at least to the end of the street? I don’t want him coming back here without an invitation.”

“Sure will.” He tipped his cap to Madeline and then shook Jonah’s hand. A moment later, he was gone.

“So,” Madeline said once they were alone. “What do you think about all that?”

He thought Townsend had something to hide. What that something was, Jonah had not yet determined.

“I am still deciding,” he said. “What about you?”

“Yes, I am as well.” She rose. “I should go. Madame is going to wonder why I have been gone so long.”

Madeline took a few steps toward the edge of the property before Jonah caught up to her and offered her his arm. “Considering what happened in Indianola, I plan to see you safely back to Mrs. Smith’s home.”

She looked as if she might be about to protest, and then she nodded slowly. “Yes, all right. I don’t suppose that’s a bad idea, although no one in Galveston has fired a shot at me yet.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes, and then Jonah decided to voice the question that had been on his mind since he saw Madeline coming out of the newspaper offices with Townsend. “Why did you go see that reporter, Madeline?”

Madeline did not miss a step even though her attention jerked in Jonah’s direction. “I saw the same headline you did,” she said.

“And you thought you’d finally get your information about the Lafitte treasure?”

Of course that is why she sought out Walter Townsend, but Madeline would never admit anything of the sort to Jonah. She understood his need to protect his family from strangers who might seek to profit, but she also had an investigation to conduct.

“Madeline?”

“No,” she admitted. “He claims to know nothing about it. You arrived before I could decide whether he was telling the truth.”

They paused to allow a cart laden with hay to pass by, and then Jonah led her across the street. She matched his pace as she tugged at the ribbons on her hat to keep the wind from blowing it away.

“We had the same inclination in going to speak to Townsend.” Madeline looked over and offered him a smile. “I just got to him before you did.”

“Yes, I suppose you did,” he said. “So what did he say before I arrived?”

“He said hello. He tried to be charming by inviting me to join him on some investigation he was headed to, and then he left his office and assumed I was following.”

“Which you were.”

“Only because there was no reason to stay behind in the building.” Madeline stopped short and turned to face him. “Just accuse me of whatever you think I did so I can defend myself properly.”

He looked away then returned his attention to Madeline. “Look, I’m sorry. For you this is an investigation, but for me this is personal.” Jonah paused. “But that does not excuse bad behavior.”

“No,” she said as she watched him appear to struggle with what he was about to say. “It does not. But I understand.”

And she did.

“Thank you.” He took her elbow and urged her to continue their walk toward Madame’s home. “I am just trying to fit these pieces together, and so far I’m not making much progress. I have decided you didn’t dig those holes.”

“Well that’s nice,” she said as she shook her head. “Dare I ask why?”

“Like Townsend said, if you had, you’d have covered up the evidence. But more than that, if you had, I think you would have somehow convinced me to help you dig.”

Madeline smiled at the reminder of a certain investigation she’d carried out back when she and Jonah were still a couple. Her informant sent a map along with the assurance that the evidence she needed to prove the suspect’s guilt would be left on the property.

She had brought Jonah along on the pretense of not wishing to go alone and then surprised him upon arrival with the fact that the evidence they needed had been buried in the suspect’s yard.

“Ah, the Valmont story,” she said as she nudged his arm with her elbow. “I won a prize for that investigation.”

“And I got a sore back and a job offer as a day laborer.”

She joined him in laughing and then allowed the conversation to fall into companionable silence. By the time they turned onto Broadway Avenue, Madeline’s thoughts had turned to a question in dire need of asking.

“Jonah, I have been wondering about something,” Madeline finally said. “I have not seen all the documents you have, but I did look through the registry in Indianola and I listened to you talk to the sheriff and the other men. In all of this, have you formed an opinion as to whether Mrs. Smith’s granddaughter is out there to be found or not?”

“I hope she is,” he said as he held the gate open for Madeline then closed it after they both stepped inside the property. “That old lady sure wants her to be. As to whether I have found any concrete facts that point to finding her? Not yet, but I am going to keep trying until I do or until she finally tells me to stop.”

“Us,” Madeline corrected. “We’re a team now, according to Madame.”

“That was a surprise,” he said.

“I agree.” Madeline stalled to look up into the Pinkerton’s eyes. “Jonah, I wish things were different between us.”

He looked away and then returned his focus to her. He said nothing.

She sighed. “And that is my fault. I know I keep saying this, but I am sorry.”

To her surprise, Jonah chuckled. “I keep saying it too.”

“Aren’t we a pair?” she said. “Some team we are.”

Jonah’s smile was slow to appear. “We used to make a great team, Madeline.”

“We did,” she said as she reached over to touch his sleeve. “Do you think we can again?”

He seemed to consider the question and then finally he nodded. “I do.”

“Me too,” she said, “but only if we start over. Completely, I mean. With neither of us having to continually apologize or try to get over the stupid things we did in the past. Can we do that?”

Jonah placed his hand on top of hers. Unlike that simple touch beneath the stars aboard the Haven, this time he looked into her eyes.

“Hello, Madeline.”

“Hello, Jonah,” she said as she felt herself giving in to the pull of those eyes, of that smile. “It is very nice to meet you.”

The front door opened, and Gretchen stepped outside, jerking Madeline from her thoughts. “Monsieur Cahill, Madame asked that you pay her a visit in the parlor as soon as possible. I was about to have the stable boy deliver the message, but here you are.” She looked down her nose at Madeline. “You are to attend to Madame as well. Immediately.”

Madeline pressed past the maid and walked down the hall to the parlor with Jonah behind her. At the door, she knocked.

“Oh do come in,” Madame said. “I have the best news and… oh… Detective Cahill is with you. Excellent. Sit. Both of you.”

Madame indicated the small settee nearest her, and Madeline complied. Rather than join her on the cramped furniture, Jonah walked around her to sit in the window seat.

“Detective Cahill, this will likely not take you by surprise, but I have only just learned this morning that our president will be visiting in a few days.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jonah said. “I did know that.”

“Did you also know that I have secured an invitation to the ball that the Browns are throwing in his honor on the 25th?”

“That’s wonderful,” Madeline said. “I will be happy to help you prepare for the ball. It will do you good to get out and enjoy yourself.”

“Oh no, child,” she said with a smile. “I am not going. You and Detective Cahill are.”

“Why?” they said together.

Madame chuckled. “Oh listen to you. You even sound like a team.” She sobered. “You are going because the people you need to meet will all be there. Imagine a gathering where Sealeys, Moodys, and all of Galveston society will be there. All the two of you have to do is watch, listen, and if possible ask a few questions. More important is to make a good impression. Mingle. Get invited to more gatherings so you can travel in that social circle. If you do that, I have a feeling you will find my girl.”

She reached over to ring the bell, and Gretchen tumbled into the room. Of course once again she had been listening in the hallway, so her distance to travel was extremely short.

“Help me to my room, dear,” she told Gretchen. “I am ready for my nap. And have Cook bring out tea and cookies for our guest.”

Gretchen glared at Madeline over her shoulder and then disappeared out into the hall with Madame.

“I don’t think your maid likes you,” Jonah said with a lift of his brows.

“That is an understatement.” Madeline rose and moved toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Unless you wish to stay for tea and cookies, I need to put a stop to the refreshments before Cook goes to the trouble of preparing them.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” he said. “I’ve got some work to do anyway.”

“Wait just a minute, Detective Cahill,” she said. “Would this be work that you should be sharing with your partner?”

Jonah grinned as he pressed past her, but he said nothing. “Jonah,” she called, following him out onto the porch. “You better not be working on this case without me, do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he said as the gate slammed behind him. “But that doesn’t mean I am listening.”

“You wait right there,” she called. “I am coming with you.”

Jonah turned around to come back to the gate but remained out on the sidewalk. “Do you understand what Mrs. Smith just required of you?”

She shook her head. “To go to a ball and talk to people?”

“For a reporter you sure do miss the obvious, Madeline.” He glanced over at the Browns’ home and then back at Madeline. “Our boss has insisted you and I pretend to actually like one another. In public.”

“Well,” she said with a laugh, “I like you. Sort of.”

“And I like you. Sort of.” He shook his head. “But we are going to have to do better than that if we want to play a convincing couple.”

She gave him a mock-serious look. “I do see the dilemma.”

“We’ve both got investigative experience,” he said. “What do you suggest?”

“Well, now, I think you will have to decide what role you’re playing and then present yourself as that.”

“So since Mrs. Smith wants us to go to this fancy party as a couple, I need to act like I am crazy about you?”

Madeline could only laugh as Jonah made a silly face. “Yes, exactly. But I think that’s the wrong kind of crazy. You should act like you are in love with me, Jonah. Pretend.”

His expression slipped for a split second, and then he glanced down Broadway Avenue before looking back at her. Jonah motioned her over to the fence just as a well-appointed carriage rolled to the curb across the street.

“Remember,” he said as he leaned close to whisper in her ear, “we love each other.”

His hand wrapped around the back of her neck as his lips found hers. Just as they had done so many times. Despite herself, Madeline leaned in to the kiss and allowed herself to pretend too.

And then, just like that, Jonah stepped back, leaving her to hold tight to the fence to keep her knees from buckling. He turned before she could speak, a good thing considering she likely could have said nothing that made sense.

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Brown,” he said to the elegant woman stepping out of her carriage across the street. “Beautiful weather we are having, isn’t it? Looks like it agrees with your roses.”

“Jonah Cahill, is that you?”

He grinned. “It is, and this is Miss Latour, my very dear friend.”

“So I see,” she said with what appeared to be amusement. “I take it the two of you will be attending my ball. We have quite the important guest, and I wouldn’t want you to miss it.”

“We will be there, ma’am,” he said as he casually slipped his arm around Madeline, who was grateful for the assistance in remaining upright.

When Mrs. Brown had disappeared inside her home, Jonah took a step back from the gate, his expression completely changed. “Well, Madeline, that should do it.”

Somehow she managed a nod. And a good excuse to hurry back inside before she asked him to repeat that performance for the milkman who was passing by.