Sadie's Secret: 3 (The Secret Lives of Will Tucker) (30 page)

BOOK: Sadie's Secret: 3 (The Secret Lives of Will Tucker)
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Sometime around dawn, she realized that while the Tucker and Astor cases might be connected, she would get nowhere trying to sort through the details of both. Sadie decided that two days hence she would offer up some plausible excuse and slip away from Callum Plantation to follow the leads on the Astor case.

Surely Agent Russell could keep tabs on Mr. Tucker in her absence. And perhaps he could decipher the riddle Henry had presented regarding the Tucker brothers and their possible participation in the scheme.

Having no good plan for her exit in place had been the reason for choosing to wait two days. However, if Mama continued to pester her, the time line just might shorten.

By feigning sleep, Sadie had almost managed to derail her mother’s inquisition, just as she had done last night. Almost, but not quite, for the moment she opened her eyes again, the questions would continue.

She envied Julia and Mama’s maid, who were given the responsibility of riding back with the wagonload of furniture, crates of dresses, and other purchases Mama had made during her time away in the city. Though their pace might be slower, there would be no need to dodge unwanted questions.

Finally, Sadie had enough. “All right, Mama. You want to know why
I chased Gabriel Trahan down the sidewalk in full view of anyone coming out of the ball and then dared to keep his carriage waiting when he tried to leave?”

“Yes, dear,” she said sweetly. “I do wish to hear your explanation so that I might answer those who will surely be contacting me with their concerns.”

Concerns? Gossip was the proper term, and yet Sadie knew she had thrown caution to the wind when she chose to behave as she had.

“I am a Pinkerton agent, and Gabriel has information I need for a case.”

There. She said it.

“You know,” Mama said slowly, “if you were going to make a statement like that, you could have done it last night.”

Sadie’s pulse throbbed against her temples, mimicking the plodding of the horses’ hooves. “Well, I’ve done it now. Although I can see that I should not have made the attempt.”

“There are several things you should not have done, Sarah Louise,” Mama said with the icy tone she reserved for special occasions. “Telling me some tall tale about working for the Pinkerton Agency as something other than a secretary is far from the top of the list.”

“Please spare me the list,” she said wearily. “I am keenly aware that I took momentary leave of my senses.”

“At least that is an explanation that makes sense. Perhaps I will mention as an excuse your recent travels and the difficulty in returning home due to all that terrible flooding.”

“Whatever makes you happy, Mama.”

“Not having to say anything in your defense would make me happy,” she said, her voice now almost as weary as Sadie’s.

“Then don’t.”

“And let people speak ill of my daughter?” She shook her head. “Perish the thought. I love you far too much to allow it.”

“And I love you too.”

Sadie watched Mama closely. Her mother returned the favor. Together they sat in silence as the carriage rolled down the River Road, the windows open to allow in the crisp breeze.

“Pinkerton agent?” Mama shook her head, her attention shifting to
focus somewhere outside the carriage. “Truly, Sadie. I know that little event made you fearful of men but…” She shrugged as if the ability to say anything further on the subject was beyond her ability.

“Little event?” Sadie thought back to the moment when she had most unwisely ignored parental wisdom to investigate a commotion in the woods outside Callum property lines. “Mama, a man was strung up and about to be killed. That is no little event. Someone had to speak up.”

Even as she said the words, Sadie understood now what she did not perceive as a girl of just past eleven. Adults who spoke out risked harm beyond themselves, while children were not held to such liabilities.

“And you’ve been crusading for the underdog ever since. Why do you think your daddy let me talk him into sending you off to that nice boarding school and then later to study art in Chicago?”

When she realized Mama was waiting for an answer, Sadie let out a long breath. “You always said it was to wash the Louisiana mud off of me.”

Mama chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “Daddy didn’t want anything to happen to you. Me? I know bayou people are smart. None of those men were going to raise a hand to a Callum child.”

Nor would any of them ever see a day in jail for their crimes. The injustice had plagued Sadie long after the image of what she saw had faded.

Mama looked across the confines of the carriage to meet her daughter’s gaze. Her expression held the promise of a smile.

“Unfortunately, I set you off running and you haven’t stopped yet.”

“And I will be leaving again soon.”

Her mother waved away the statement with a sweep of her hand. “Sadie, enough of that.”

“Someday, when you look back on this conversation, you will realize that what I tried to tell you was true. Until now, I never thought about a connection between what I saw as a child and the path my life has taken.”

Mama looked poised to speak and then must have thought better of it. Instead, she merely shook her head.

Sadie looked away, satisfied she had finally found the courage to speak the truth to her mother. The fact that Mama didn’t believe a word of it was something she had never considered. Exhaustion tugged at her until she finally succumbed to a deep sleep that lasted all the way until the carriage slowed to turn onto Callum Plantation.

“It looks as though we have company,” Mama commented as they traveled slowly beneath the avenue of oaks leading to home. “I wonder whose carriage that is. It’s certainly a fine one.”

Giving the vehicle only a brief glance, Sadie climbed down the moment the wheels ceased to turn and then hurried up to her bedchamber, where she fell into bed. Some time later, she awoke to the growls of an empty stomach echoing in a darkened room.

Lighting a lamp, she ran a comb through a hairstyle that had been ruined by her nap and then set off down the back stairs to see what was left from the evening’s meal. The kitchen was dark, but Sadie easily found a match and lit the tallow candle the cook left for emergencies.

The glow was sufficient to illuminate the room without drawing any unwanted attention. A few minutes later, Sadie wrapped a roast beef sandwich in brown paper and blew out the candle with the intention of slipping back upstairs to enjoy a quiet meal alone.

Laughter of a decidedly male variety derailed her plan and sent Sadie diving beneath the big wooden table with her sandwich tucked under her arm. Thank goodness Mama insisted the kitchen floors be clean enough to eat off of, for that was practically what she had resigned to do as Daddy spoke to whomever he was entertaining on the other side of the only door that offered any means of exit.

Eventually retreating footsteps echoed. Sadie waited until she was certain the hall was clear before going back up the stairs to her room.

Though she was certain she had left the lamp burning, the room was now dark. Instinct instantly had her reaching for her gun, and then she recalled where she was. Julia had most likely turned the bed down, readied the room for slumber, and then turned off the light when she departed.

Sadie’s fingers reached across the expanse of space searching out the lamp. From across the room, a light blazed.

“Hello, Sadie,” a familiar voice said from the center of the blinding illumination.

She blinked to adjust her eyes and still could not see the source. The voice she recognized immediately. “Mr. Tucker.”

The light lowered just enough to make out a vague image of the man, who had situated himself in a chair by the window. Apparently Kyle had loaned the Tucker fellow one of his gadgets.

“Considering the fact I am sitting in your bedchamber, I think we can dispense with the formalities. Call me Jefferson.”

Sadie deposited the paper-wrapped sandwich on the table beside the door and then crossed her arms over her waist. “What are you doing in my bedchamber,
Jefferson?”

“I told you I would find you.” He nodded toward the table. “What’s in the package? It smells like the same thing I had for dinner.”

Shaking her head, she grabbed the sandwich and moved toward the window seat. Just to be certain, she searched his face to see that his eyes indeed were a shade of blue.

She opened the folded brown paper and revealed her sandwich. “I doubt your meal was better than this. Our cook makes the most delicious roast.”

“She does,” he said as he leaned back and smiled. “I especially like how she cooks the onions and carrots just enough to make them tender but not so much that they lose their crispness.”

“How would you know that?”

“I asked. After I thanked your father for inviting me, of course.” Jefferson nodded to her sandwich. “You haven’t taken a bite yet. I highly recommend you do before I’m tempted.”

Snatching up the sandwich, she tore it in two and offered him the larger piece. He waved it away.

“Are you certain?” she said as she lifted her portion to her mouth and took a bite.

“I am. Enjoy your snack.”

“Supper. I slept through the meal and awoke hungry.”

“That would explain why you did not come down.” He studied her a moment. “Out late last night? I wondered about that Trahan fellow. He seemed to have an interest in you that went beyond a shared childhood friendship.”

“About him.” She paused to recall what Gabriel had said. “How do you know him?”

“Me? I don’t know him.”

“And yet you called him by name.”

“I read his name on the dance card you showed me. If you recall, I stole
his dance.” He reached for the other half of the sandwich and took a bite. “Good earlier,” he managed when he finished chewing. “Even better now.”

His story made sense. But how, then, did Gabriel know Jefferson’s name? She decided to ask.

“I have no idea. He specifically called me Jefferson Tucker?”

“Yes, I think so. Or did he?” She tried to recall. “No. He said Tucker.”

Jefferson took another bite and appeared to be thinking. “Then it is likely he knows John. And you say this is someone from your childhood?” She nodded.

“Interesting. Have you established a connection between him and my family?”

“None that I can determine. He grew up in River Pointe and went off to Tulane to study medicine.”

He sat up a little straighter. “I would like to meet him.”

“I’m sure my mother can arrange it.”

He took another bite and chewed it before shaking his head. “No, I prefer to make those arrangements myself.”

“All right.” She paused. “How exactly did you come to know my parents well enough to wrangle an invitation to supper?”

“That’s a great story, actually.” He enjoyed another taste of the sandwich. “Your mother and I had plenty of time to chat at the soiree last night while you were dancing with half the eligible men in New Orleans.”

She thought of what Mama must have said during the course of the evening. “I hope you don’t believe anything she told you. She wants me married well and soon.”

His smile told her it was very likely that Mama had said something to that effect. “I assure you she was most complimentary when discussing you.”

“The better to see me wed, I believe I told you.”

He laughed. “Yes, but what you haven’t told me is how an extremely capable Pinkerton agent has a family who feels they must take care of her. It makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense.”

He paused to tap the side of his forehead with his index finger. “I cannot think of one good reason to keep this information from your family.”

She set aside the remains of her sandwich. “About that. Just who was at dinner last night?”

“Your parents and your brother Ethan.”

A thought occurred. “Only Ethan?”

“Yes. Why?” A look of understanding dawned. “Sadie, would those two fellows who paid me a visit in my hotel room back in Baton Rouge happen to be your brothers?”

“I’m afraid so.” She fixed him with a look as she recalled the supper table conversation regarding the bruises Brent and Cade were sporting the same day she arrived home. “You didn’t tell me you fought them, Jefferson.”

“Because there was no fight. Just a little self-defense on my part.” He shrugged. “Trust me, Sadie. They didn’t get much chance to defend themselves.”

“Oh?”

“Perhaps you recall how I reacted when you surprised me in the carriage.”

“Yes…I see your point.”

“As to your brothers, men who have something to hide are usually more eager to listen to a proposition that keeps them out of trouble.”

She gave the matter a moment’s thought. Neither of her brothers cared much for getting in trouble with Daddy, although they might care that Mama’s part in the escapade was revealed. “Do what you must, then.”

“I plan to. And your father?” He tilted his head as if recalling a particularly pleasant memory. “Apparently your mother had already spoken highly of me, so he was well prepared to like me.”

BOOK: Sadie's Secret: 3 (The Secret Lives of Will Tucker)
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