Paper Woman: A Mystery of the American Revolution (13 page)

"MacVie?"
 
She grimaced, recalling how he'd stepped on
her feet at the dance to discourage her sleuthing.
 
Then she remembered he was second-in-command for the Committee of
Safety.
 
Her zeal over the St. Augustine
lead had made her overlook the potential complicity of her father's cronies in
his murder.
 
Not a one of them had
stopped by to pay his condolences on Sunday.
 
They might very well have double-crossed him.
 
"Leave no stone unturned."

A wicked smile
twisted the Frenchman's lips.
 
"Ask
the correct way, and MacVie will volunteer information."

She
nodded.
 
"If we go to St.
Augustine, I shall need a man's hat and clothing."
 
Jacques arched an eyebrow at her.
 
"I shan't slow the party by riding a
horse in a petticoat."

His eyes
twinkled.
 
"You are a wanton,
belle
Sophie."

She
grinned.
 
"Has it taken you
thirty-three years to recognize that?"

"Not at
all."

Chapter Nine

FINGERS
INTERLACED BEHIND his head, the hammock swaying beneath him, David contemplated
flies scooting around the ceiling of the guest hut in the heat of the day.
 
"Havana."

Sophie gave the
hammock a push.
 
"Have you been
there?"

He regarded her
with amusement.
 
"You know I'd have
told you if I'd wandered off to Havana.
 
Now who'd have thought the old man would go to a place so exotic?"

"Ben
Franklin goes to Paris."
 
She
pushed the hammock again.
 
"I've
heard he's courted more women in Paris than there are women living in
Massachusetts, Pennsylvania, and New York."

"Three
cheers for old Ben.
 
Still, Paris isn't
tropical.
 
This is a once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity."

"Does that
mean you want to come along?"

"They have
women, whiskey, and whist in Havana.
 
I'm in."

"But it
isn't certain that we'll go to Havana.
 
We'll likely go only as far as St. Augustine."

"They have
women, whiskey, and whist in St. Augustine, too."

She
smiled.
 
David was such an uncomplicated
man.
 
"Of course, should we need to
go to Havana, there's the issue of passage aboard a ship."

"The card
tables of St. Augustine are generous."

"I didn't
plan for you to subsidize the venture."

"And how
are
you
going to pay for it?"

"I have
some money hidden away at the house."

Clearing his
throat, he sat up and rubbed the back of his neck.
 
"Uh, your supply is now in the hands of our enterprising
younger sister."

"
What
?"

"Along
with Mother's garnets and the old man's doubloons and horse pistols.
 
For safekeeping, she said."

Anger balled
Sophie's fingers into fists.
 
"'Enterprising?'
 
You mean
'thieving,' don't you?"

He pushed
himself out of the hammock and gave her shoulder a squeeze.
 
"Calm down.
 
I was witness to her taking it.
 
That way, at least you know where all of it is, and she can't claim your
servant stole it."
 
He spread his
hands.
 
"Look, you aren't an
heiress sitting on a fortune.
 
The
first
lesson you need to learn if you go off on this adventure is to accept the
generosity of others when it's offered.

"The
second
lesson you must learn is that you won't always be in control.
 
Dash it all, you've had that printing
business under your thumb your entire life.
 
Month after month, year after year, those columns in your ledger have
added up perfectly and balanced.
 
But
your debits and credits will be fouled by the time you get to St.
Augustine.
 
If you go on to Havana,
forget about ever balancing anything."

Indignation
yielded to reflection, smoothing the pucker of her lips.
 
"You think my life is boring."

"Abysmally
so."

"I agree."

"Then why
have you been chasing the perpetuation of abysmal boredom on an estate in
Hampshire?"

She
frowned.
 
Edward's offer was the fond
fancy of so many women.
 
Why hadn't she
accepted it Saturday night?
 
"I'd
be lodged in a townhouse in London, not in Hampshire."

David rubbed
his chin.
 
"Oh.
 
That's a different offer and a point in
Hunt's favor.
 
You wouldn't be bored in
London unless his money ran out or he lost interest in you.
 
But somehow I just don't see you in
London."
 
He took her hand and patted
it.
 
"My dear sister, you've set
this ship a-sail on the open seas and given her a bearing.
 
Let others trim the sails and tack to keep
her on course.
 
The ship will find
harbor, I assure you.
 
And don't worry
about the print shop.
 
With six brats running
around, ink creates an appealing diversion for Susana right now."

"You must
be joking.
 
She hasn't touched that
press in fifteen years."
 
But
Sophie knew her absence was just the opening Susana had been waiting for.

David's grin
took a bawdy bend around the corners of his mouth.
 
"I suspect it's like climbing in the saddle after you've
been out of it awhile.
 
Comes back to
you with hardly a hitch."

She pulled away
to hide a blush.
 
David wasn't talking
about horses.
 
Eight long years it had
been for her.
 
"What would
you
know about being out of the saddle?"

"It was an
intelligent guess."

Outside the
hut, they heard MacVie approaching.
 
"Better not be wasting my time with this, Jacques.
 
I got a fence to repair before the new hogs
arrive.
 
And that ghoul, Fairfax, is
harassing me."

Sophie caught
her brother's eye.
 
"Let me handle
this."

Jacques opened
the door for the hog farmer and assumed a position just inside.
 
MacVie removed his hat, nodded to David, and
stared at Sophie.
 
"Mrs. Barton!
 
We heard you were kidnapped."
 
His gaze encompassed her loose hair and the
strands of beads and shells atop Two Rainbows' shirt, and his lip curled.
 
"Perhaps something worse than
kidnapped."

She clasped
hands behind her back and regarded him with a cool eye.
 
"When was the last time you saw my
father alive?"

He looked at
the ceiling and hummed several seconds before returning an indulgent
smile.
 
"Oh, nine o'clock Saturday
night."

"Where?"

"At the
dance."

"You
didn't encounter him alive after the dance was over?"

"No."
 
He wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve.

"When did
you last see Jonah Hale alive?"

"About the
same time as Will, right after the dance started."
 
His tone hardened.
 
"Why are you asking questions?"

"Where
were you between ten Saturday night and two Sunday morning?"

"Not that
it's any of your business, but I was at the dance, and then Donald, Charley,
and me had a couple rounds at Donald's house before I went home to bed.
 
Find fault with that."

"I
will.
 
We suspect you of complicity in
my father's murder."

His face
contorted.
 
"How dare you say
that?
 
He was my friend!"
 
He bared teeth.
 
"I don't care if you're his daughter.
 
I don't owe you anything."

She ignored his
statement but not the sentiment.
 
MacVie
despised her, so she'd best watch her back.
 
"Some friend you are.
 
You
never came by Sunday to offer condolences.
 
Not a one of you rebels did.
 
And
you seem to have forgotten that I witnessed an argument between you and my
father just before the first dance.
 
I
overheard you say to him, '...just you and Jonah, eh?'
 
He and Jonah are now dead.
 
Coincidence?
 
I think not."

"I don't
have time to listen to your foolishness —"

"I shall
be blunt then.
 
You rebels betrayed my
father and Jonah Hale because you were bought out by a Spaniard known as El Serpiente."

The momentary
widening of his eyes indicated surprise and panic galloping through him.
 
Zack MacVie, defender of the patriot cause,
had been nabbed.
 
"E-El Who?"

"You're
such a terrible liar.
 
Two Spaniards
came looking for my father at our home early Sunday.
 
One was flayed alive on your property not long after.
 
The other was El Serpiente."
 
She balled her fists.
 
"You know him."

MacVie darted a
look around the hut, his fingers clenching and unclenching.
 
"How much of this do the bloodybacks know?"

She smiled
again.
 
She liked seeing him off
balance.
 
"I don't owe you
anything."

"I knew
it!
 
You're a flaming Tory with a
redcoat lover!"

Of course a
flaming rebel would view a neutral as a flaming Tory.
 
"You're an ignorant, arrogant hog farmer who hasn't any
sense.
 
You fancy Lieutenant Fairfax
stupid.
 
You've no inkling of all he
knows, or what he'll do to confirm his suspicions."
 
She must have struck a nerve, for MacVie
sucked in a breath, and his swarthy face paled at the mention of his favorite
ghoul.
 
"Out with it!
 
Why did you kill my father and Jonah?"

"I-I
didn't do it."
 
His shoulders
sagged, and he hung his head.
 
His hands
shook, though whether from rage or fear she wasn't sure.
 
"El Serpiente killed them.
 
I had nothing to do with it.
 
None of us did.
 
We weren't bought out, no matter what you think."

"Liar.
 
Why would a Spaniard kill a rebel?"

He jutted a
sullen lip at her.
 
"All I know is
that he has his own interests in this war."

More
subterfuge.
 
It sure looked as though
they'd be chasing El Serpiente to St. Augustine.
 
"Have you any idea where El Serpiente was headed?"
 
MacVie shook his head in negation, but she
doubted he was ignorant of the meeting in St. Augustine.

Jacques crossed
his arms high on his chest.
 
"You
claim he murdered Will and Jonah.
 
How
do you know it?
 
Did you see their
murders?"

MacVie regarded
the ceiling again.
 
"I was coming
home from Donald's house and saw flames on my property.
 
I rode over fast, thinking a fire was
spreading.
 
That's when I saw Will tied
to the stake and the Spaniards watching him burn."

David's jaw
hung slack.
 
"Didn't you try to
stop them?"

"No.
 
Will was already dead."

"What
about my nephew?
 
Was he dead,
too?"

"Yes."
 
MacVie refused to look at them.
 
"Lying there on the ground.
 
I figure the Spaniards got both of
them."

Sophie raised
her hands, elbows bent, in a gesture of exasperation.
 
"What were my father and Jonah doing on your property at
that time of night?"

"How
should I know?"

"Why
didn't you tell the soldiers you were a witness?"

"Oh,
indeed.
 
They know I've no love for
their poxy king.
 
They'd have charged me
with the murders, just to lock me up."

"A
pleasant thought.
 
What time did all
this happen?"

MacVie glowered
at her.
 
"One-fifteen,
one-thirty."

Her eyebrow
shot up.
 
Impossible.
 
The Spaniards had been to her home looking
for Will at one o'clock.
 
There wasn't
enough time for them to have him mostly burned at the stake by one-thirty.
 
"Who flayed El Serpiente's
partner?"

He gulped and
blanched.
 
"I don't know.
 
Sneaked away to my home after that so as the
Spaniards didn't catch me."

MacVie at least
suspected who'd killed the other Spaniard.
 
If any portion of his tale was true, he'd had good reason to sneak away
from the gruesome site so he didn't get caught, too.
 
Only one person in Alton made his face pale.
 
"I'm surprised you haven't leaped to
avenge the murder of your fellows."

He pondered
several seconds.
 
"El Serpiente
ain't traveling alone."

"His
accomplice was flayed alive."

"Aye, but
— but he has two others."

From how
quickly he blurted it, she knew he was lying yet again.
 
"Oh?
 
You saw them?
 
Where?"

"No.
 
I overheard him at the murder site telling
the other Spaniard where they were all going to meet and camp last night.
 
North, he said, to discourage pursuit."

"Ah, you
speak Spanish, then?"

Puzzled, he
frowned at her while he worked out the logistics that the two Spaniards
wouldn't have spoken English to each other.
 
"Aye, a little.
 
So you see,
it ain't safe chasing him.
 
Besides
—"
 
MacVie grew moody.
 
"Glory ain't for everybody.
 
Some of us got to stay behind and pick up
the pieces when things go wrong."

She
acknowledged the shrewd expressions of both David and Jacques, reading in them
the same suspicions she held.
 
They'd
have to bring MacVie along on the chase for El Serpiente because the farmer
knew too much about them and had become a liability.
 
Dragging an unwilling traveler with them wouldn't be fun.
 
No, they needed to give MacVie incentive to
join them.

She allowed
disgust to curl her lip.
 
"What a
coward you are.
 
Well, Jacques, David,
and I won't crawl on our bellies.
 
We're
going after El Serpiente.
 
He has almost
a two-day lead on us, so either you agree to help us catch him, or we hand you
over to the local authorities.
 
And
believe me, after you milksops who call yourselves 'Patriots' allowed me to be
blamed for printing those broadsides, nothing would give me more pleasure than
to turn you over to the British."

"You got
nothing on me, and you know it."

"Oh, don't
I?"
 
She took her time walking a
circle around him.
 
"Your wits are
addled.
 
Must've been from watching that
Spaniard being flayed alive early yesterday morning."

Color drained
from his face, and his hands trembled again.
 
"I d-didn't see it.
 
I
w-went along home to bed."

"Lieutenant
Fairfax would love hearing how much you know about
that
murder.
 
And did you know I saw you carve the woodcut
for that broadside in the pressroom Friday night?"

"All
right, all right!
 
I'll go with
you!"

"Your
change of heart gratifies me.
 
Your
primary task will be to find the site where El Serpiente camped last night with
his two accomplices.
 
We leave in an
hour.
 
Before then, you'll help gather
supplies.
 
Jacques or a Creek warrior
will accompany you to make sure you don't stray from the village to warn the
rest of the Committee before we go."

"When do I
get my musket and knife back?"

"When we
decide you're cooperating with us."

"Ah, no,
I'm not going on any trip with you unarmed —"

"You do as
you're told!"
 
Apprehension
bombarded her at the lethality of MacVie's glare.
 
She lifted her chin.
 
"Don't just stand there.
 
Hop to it!"

He jammed his
hat on his head and stormed from the hut with Jacques following him out.
 
David flopped into the hammock with a grunt
of discontent.
 
"He's going to be
more trouble than he's worth."

Chapter Ten

MATHIAS ARRIVED
TEN minutes later, dressed in hunting shirt and trousers, leading his horse and
Jonah's gelding.
 
While he unloaded gear
outside the guest hut, Sophie noticed the grip of fatigue and grief in his expression.
 
"Five o'clock in the morning Fairfax
showed up on my doorstep!
 
He must never
sleep."

Contempt
contorted Jacques's expression.
 
"Not the only body function he omits."

Sophie paused
from stroking Jonah's gelding to wag her finger at the Frenchman.
 
"You've made an enemy of Fairfax."

David's
eyebrows rose.
 
"Indeed?
 
I'd sooner have the devil himself as my
enemy."

"You think
I should fear him, eh?
 
You were not at
the Plains of Abraham, when honorable French blood ran in rivers."
 
Jacques lifted his gnarled hands heavenward.
 
"You did not see the jewels of
Auvergny, Bretagne, and Lorraine crushed."

That story had
certainly circulated a few times.
 
Noticing the glaze in David's eyes, Sophie nudged him to polite
attention.

"And you
did not kneel beside the body of your beloved Montcalm and weep.
 
After Quebec, David, I fear no English
pig."

"No, I
don't suppose you would, Uncle Jacques."

"And
perhaps I've slid my dagger between the ribs of a few of them since the Old
War, eh?"

"I don't
doubt it, Uncle Jacques."

"My hand
itched to do the same this morning."
 
Jacques mimicked Fairfax's accent and carriage.
 
"'Mr. Hale, if you suspected the
savages' plans in advance, why did you not inform us of it?'"

Mathias
straightened.
 
"Stop stomping it
into the ground."

David tongued a
piece of straw.
 
"You have to admit
the redcoats asked enough questions at the funerals this morning to become
annoying."
 
He patted the gelding.
 
"Didn't you attract attention by
fetching Jonah's horse and all this gear?"

"Samson's
been in my stable since Saturday afternoon, when Jonah brought him to me to
replace a shoe."

Jacques eyed
his nephew with skepticism.
 
"How
do you know you were not followed out here?"

"I didn't
leave with both horses at the same time, and I took an indirect route."

"Good."
 
Jacques's nod was curt.
 
"As soon as we divide the gear and
supplies, we are leaving with MacVie."