Hunter's Prize (34 page)

“Pearson left here alone. I watched him go.”

“Did you search the wagon?”

Pushing the large cloth bag out of her mind, Addie shook her head. “For heaven’s sake! Listen to yourself. Don’t you see it doesn’t make any sense? There’s no reason Pearson would take him.”

Her lips pursed. “I’ll look for Ceddy first and try to make sense of it later.”

She began to stalk away, but Addie snatched her arm. “Please don’t call the sheriff. Not yet. Ceddy could still be here somewhere. We haven’t finished searching the grounds or the woods.”

Priscilla didn’t look convinced.

Addie waved her hand to take in their surroundings. “Wouldn’t you hate knowing you went chasing a wild goose and left Ceddy out there somewhere, alone and frightened?”

Her frantic gaze darting around the perimeter, Priscilla sighed. “You’re right. Either way, we need help.” She started for the house again, talking over her shoulder. “Delilah, have the driver swing the carriage around. I’m going to see Reverend Stroud.”

Still displeased with the reverend, Addie cringed. “Why him?” “He’ll call out the congregation to form a search party.” She gave Addie a pointed look. “And he’s the last person, besides you, to talk to Pearson. Hopefully the reverend knows where he’s going.” “And if he does?”

Her mouth set in a determined line. “I’m going after him.” “Wait for me,” Addie cried, hurrying her steps to catch up to her. Priscilla frowned, and Addie raised her brows. “I want to be there when you find out you were wrong.”

C
eddy lay still under the wagon seat, counting the big brown stitches running the length of the tan-colored bag. Reaching the last thread, he ran his finger to the other side and started over again.

The cloth bag smelled funny. Partly of the sea—like the great rolling ship he rode with Auntie Jane—and partly of Daddy. Only it wasn’t really Daddy’s smell. Just the man with the odd hair.

He drew farther into the shadows as the wagon came to a creaking stop.

The springs above his head moaned as the man climbed down.

Laughing voices. The squeal of the tailgate. A thud shook him, then another, as crates came sliding toward him. Holding his breath, he waited for the noise to stop.

The seat groaned.

One, two, three, four boots in front, a wall of boxes in back. The man who hugged like Daddy, close enough to touch.

Ceddy tightened his grip on the crystallized carbon gemstone and held Miss Addie’s jasper next to his cheek.

Safe.

Pearson drove northeast out of town and took the road to Caddo Lake. The sun overhead felt wrong, the gentle breeze out of place. The dayseemed like any other pleasant Sunday afternoon, instead of the second worst day of his life.

Shouldn’t the sky be overcast? Lightning striking? A foul wind whipping the trees?

Seated next to him, Theo talked until his voice grew hoarse, chattered until he made no sense, blabbered until his life hung in the balance.

Pearson nudged him hard with his elbow. “Take a breath, would you? It’s not working.”

Theo grimaced and clutched his arm. “What was that for?”

“I didn’t meet you yesterday, paisan. You’ve done the same since we were kids.” He laughed. “Come to think on it, it never worked then either.”

Propping his boot, Theo reclined in the seat and folded his arms. “I hope you know you’re talking in riddles.”

“I hope you know I’m onto you. You’re trying to distract me from my thoughts, but you’re wasting your breath. That, and robbing me of the will to live.”

Theo cast him a worried glance.

Pearson forced a smile. “Don’t fret. Things will never get that bad again.”

Theo nodded. “So … do you want to talk about it?”

Pearson blew a shuddering breath. “If you can explain to me what happened, I might.” He shook his head. “How could I have gotten it so wrong? Addie had me convinced she cared about me.”

“She does, and you won’t persuade me otherwise.”

Scowling, Pearson quirked his mouth. “If you’re right, I don’t understand her brand of caring. There’s no loyalty in it.”

Theo pursed his lips. “Wait a second…. How did Addie come into this? I thought we were talking about you and the reverend.”

Pearson snorted. “The reverend brought it out in the open, but she’s in on the whole thing.”

Theo propped his arms on his knees and stared at his laced fingers. “You do realize I have no inkling of what you’re talking about. One minute we’re enjoying the reverend’s company; the next you’re tearing out of the house and spouting something about your innocence.” He glanced up. “And now you’re mad at Addie?”

“That’s right—you didn’t hear.” Pearson sighed. He didn’t relish airing the details of his humiliation, but his best friend had a right toknow. “I’ll tell you, but hold on to your hat.” He sucked in a deep breath. “They think I’m the one who did it, Theo. They think I hurt Ceddy.” The vile words soured his mouth.

“What?” Shock gripped Theo’s features. “That’s plain crazy. Who came up with that drivel?”

“Evidently Addie, Priscilla, and the reverend.”

“Reverend Stroud?” This fact seemed to bother Theo the most. “I thought he was our friend.”

“That’s the worst part. He was trying hard to be a friend when he brought his suspicions to light. To tell the truth, when I consider all the strikes he had against me, I start to believe it myself.”

Theo gave a disgusted grunt. “So how do you plan to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Prove your innocence.”

Pearson sighed. “I don’t know. I’ll start by sitting lakeside and clearing my head. Maybe if I run the facts past, one by one, they’ll start to make sense.”

He stared at the blue sky through the pine trees filing by. “Ceddy Whitfield’s a great kid, but the most important thing for me to do is steer well clear of him.”

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of Reverend Stroud’s humble little house. Climbing down behind Priscilla, Addie followed her past the rickety gate and through the front yard.

Absent of grass, the dark, moist dirt was a crisscrossed pattern of chicken scratches. Stiff-legged hens darted out of the way. Red-combed roosters sat on fence rails, flapping their wings in a brave display. Dodging a brood of chicks, Priscilla mounted the steps and rapped on the door.

Reverend Stroud opened to them wearing old trousers, one suspender fastened over a plaid shirt, and a surprised expression. He looked nothing like the man who smiled down from the pulpit each Sunday. He stepped aside with downcast eyes. “Come in, ladies. I believe I know why you’re here.”

“I’m afraid you don’t, Reverend.” The tears Priscilla held in check for so long found an outlet in the presence of her pastor. “It’s Ceddy!”she wailed. “He’s gone, and this time he’s not hiding under a bed. This time he may be in dire peril.”

He glanced at Addie, and she gave a curt nod.

The scriptural admonition to give pastors double honor and high esteem for their labors pricked Addie’s conscience. Swallowing her anger, she resolved to address her sense of betrayal later, in prayer to the Lord. “It’s true, sir. He may be in the woods or somewhere past the garden fence, but he’s nowhere on the grounds.”

He motioned them inside then hurried to a kitchen chair, snagging his boots and dingy socks on the way. Struggling into them, he fired breathless questions. “How long has he been missing?”

“We thought he was sleeping,” Priscilla said. “It could’ve been hours.”

“Did you look in the servants’ quarters?”

Addie gasped. “No! I don’t know why, but we didn’t. He could very likely be there.”

“What sort of dire peril do you fear, Priscilla?”

“I believe he may have been taken.” Her mouth hardened. “By Pearson.”

His hands gripping the top of one boot, the reverend paused and glanced up. “Pearson was there?”

“Yes. And when he left, Ceddy was missing.”

He lowered his head, rubbing his eyes with finger and thumb. “I just spoke to Pearson awhile ago.”

“We know,” Addie said, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. “He told us.”

The man’s earnest gaze searched her face. “I hope you’ll forgive me, Addie. I didn’t tell him outright that you suspected him, but I didn’t deny it.”

She sank into a chair across from him. “That’s just it, Reverend. I don’t suspect him. I never did. I could never believe Pearson capable of harming a child.”

Reverend Stroud heaved a heavy sigh. “I’m beginning to share your instincts, Addie.” He shot a cautious look at Priscilla. “Forgive me, dear, but after listening to the man, watching his eyes, I think we’ve unjustly accused him.”

“His eyes?” she spat.

The reverend nodded. “The window to a man’s soul, remember? There’s not a hint of darkness to be found in Pearson’s.”

Priscilla marched to the table. “Then how do you explain the fact that they’ve both gone missing?”

He held up his hand. “No one said Pearson’s missing. He’s merely gone to the lake for a few days, to nurse hurt feelings and devise a way to prove his innocence.”

Her chin jerked up. “He’s headed for Lake Caddo?”

“He and Theo both.”

Whirling, Priscilla beat a path to the door. “Come, Addie. If he’s bound for the lake, then so are we.”

“Not so fast, dear lady,” the reverend called. “Before you run off half-cocked, I’d suggest you slow down and allow us to look for Ceddy.” His gaze jumped to Addie. “Starting with the servants’ quarters.”

D
enny’s turn had come at last. He may have opened his eyes that morning in a shabby boardinghouse flat he couldn’t afford, with musty bedding and grime in the corners, but those days were over. Soon he too would fall asleep each night in a house with six bedrooms and satin-covered sofas in the parlor.

“We’re still going up to the mansion, Den?”

The question pulled Denny from his pleasant daydream. “How else will we look for the rock, old boy?” In his present joyful mood, he couldn’t summon an ugly name to spout.

Charlie twisted on the seat and pointed over his shoulder. “But we passed the carriage in town.”

They had tiptoed past the landlord’s room and slipped out the back door without paying their bill. Hustling over to the livery, they’d tossed their luggage in the rented buggy and headed out of town. Bouncing along Washington Street, they rode right by Miss Whitfield and the governess, going somewhere in a frightful hurry.

Denny beamed. “Most accommodating of them to leave, don’t you think?”

Charlie studied his fleshy hands. “I’m trying to follow, Den, really I am, but it’s paining me ‘ead.”

“You didn’t see the boy with them, did you?”

Charlie shook his head.

“If he’s there in the house, then our diamond is, too. Now the only thing standing in our way is that skinny maid.”

Turning off the lane, Denny dashed past the circular drive and pulled in close to the back porch. As he approached the door, excitement simmered in his chest. He smiled at Charlie, touched his finger to his lips, and stepped inside the cool, shaded hall.

The house was quiet, the only sound the purring of a ceiling fan somewhere up ahead. Their backs to the wall, they slid along the railing until Denny could get a peek at the staircase and the areas beyond.

Nothing stirred. He’d never known a house where a boy lived to be so quiet. It seemed abnormal. But then, Ceddy was hardly a normal boy.

Motioning for Charlie to follow, he reached the landing in a few quick paces. Leaning, he peered upstairs, fully expecting to see scurrying shadows or hear some sort of movement. Raising his brows at Charlie, he placed his hand on the banister and took one cautious step.

A low growl shot fire through Denny’s chest. He spun, nearly falling over Charlie in his haste.

Charlie, panic in his eyes, sat down hard on the bottom stair, as if he’d decided to take a rest.

The maid loomed behind them, an upraised knife in her hand. “Don’t you all go up there, you hear? Turn around, now, and skedaddle.”

On closer inspection—and Denny happened to be looking close—the knife turned out to be a letter opener. Not that it mattered. No doubt her twitching fingers, tightly clutching the handle, would gladly wield it to the same disastrous end.