Sadie's Secret: 3 (The Secret Lives of Will Tucker) (36 page)

She hauled the precious artifact close and prayed the damage to the nose and right lappet had been done before the tussle with Monsieur Valletta began.

Noticing a carnelian amulet in the form of a seated figure of Harpocrates, she held the mask against her chest and reached to cover the talisman with her palm. A second later, Valletta ground the heel of his boot into her hand, causing her to cry out as she dropped the mask.

The treasure rolled out of her reach. With her free hand, Sadie reached up to slam her fist against the back of her attacker’s knee. He went sprawling forward, the burlap bag still clenched in his hand.

Baubles tumbled out. A pottery funerary cone rolled into the ferns and a limestone canopic jar followed quickly behind. Valletta snatched up the jar as well as a small painting in a gilt frame, possibly the Durer.

He dumped them unceremoniously back into the burlap bag. Looking around, he stepped off Sadie’s hand to grab the funerary cone.

A shot rang out. The art dealer dove for cover.

Sadie rolled toward the ferns to once again search for her gun. When her palm connected with the cold metal, she wrapped her fingers around it and stumbled to her knees as she took aim.

Monsieur Valletta was gone and so were the mask and amulet.

Holding the gun at her side, Sadie rose and wobbled toward the gate to emerge into the alley. Jefferson’s face rose before her, and then everything went black.

Twenty-Seven

S
adie slowly opened her eyes. Pain zigzagged behind her ear and across the back of her head. She groaned as her vision cleared and the horizon tilted.

“Tell him to bring the carriage into the alley.”

A man, she knew. But who?

“She’s fine,” he said. “But her head will ache for a while. Where is that carriage?”

Jefferson.

“How did you find me?” She whispered. She couldn’t seem to manage more than that.

His chuckle rumbled against the ear that pressed against his chest. “I have a talent for finding beautiful women, Miss Callum. Let’s discuss this later when you’re home.”

Looking up in the direction of his voice sent another shard of pain that caused the blackness to close in again. By the time she once more opened her eyes, she was in the carriage with a different face swimming before her.

“Julia?” she managed when she caught sight of the fiery red hair.

“Yes, miss. Just sit back and try not to move. The mister said you’ll be fine if you just stay still.”

Blinking to restore her focus, Sadie shook her head. The effort cost her with pain at her temples, but she stifled a groan.

“What mister? Do you mean Mr. Tucker?” At Julia’s nod, she continued. “Why did he not join us? And how did he know we were at Valletta’s? Did you tell anyone?”

“How could I?” Julia asked. “I did not know myself until we were well underway.”

“Yes, of course.” Sadie tried to focus but felt her eyes slide closed. When she could open them again, she focused on the wide-eyed maid. “Where is Mr. Tucker?”

“He told me he would be along soon. I didn’t think to ask him anything else.”

“Did he catch up to Valletta?”

“The man from the store? If he did, I was not aware of this. Nor did I see what happened to the man in the strange clothing once he stepped out the front door. Who was he again?”

“I have no idea, although Valletta called him Albert.” Thankfully his clothing choice just might set him apart should she have to identify him again.

“They certainly had some odd things for sale there. Why in the world would a person wish to buy a coffin for a cat?”

The art historian in her rankled at the question, and yet Sadie could understand the girl’s uninformed opinion. “Actually, that was an Egyptian artifact, and it was extremely valuable.”

“Well, whatever it was, the thing rattled. I thought maybe it was broken and they covered up the damage somehow, although the paint they used didn’t do a very good job. It looked awfully shabby.”

The carriage hit a rut and Sadie groaned in pain. “That’s because it’s very, very old. And it rattled because the bones of a cat were inside.”

The maid’s horrified expression almost made Sadie laugh. “You mean someone would buy it with a dead cat inside?”

“That enhances the value to collectors.” She took note of the green ensemble and then slowly straightened. “You must change out of that dress and back into the clothes you were wearing when we left home.”

“Oh,” Julia said as she looked down and then back up at Sadie. “I do suppose returning in such a pretty dress when I didn’t leave in it might raise an eyebrow.”

“To say the least.” Sadie paused to consider how best to handle the situation. “Can you manage it without stopping the carriage?”

Julia gave her a sheepish look. “With help, I might.”

“Draw the curtains, then, and I’ll do what I can.” Sadie discovered that helping a lady dress was a skill a lady’s maid acquired over time. Managing the feat in a moving carriage with absolutely no skills and a head that pounded added up to not accomplishing much.

However, Julia was out of the green gown and into her plain servant’s clothing before they had traveled the length of the River Road. Sadie watched the maid carefully fold her new dress and return it to the carpetbag on the floor between them while thoughts of the day’s escapade tumbled forth.

As the events fell together in sequence, a question rose. “Julia, where did you go?”

The maid looked up from fussing with her shoelaces. “Go, miss? I don’t understand.”

Sadie thought over the recollection and then reformed the question. “When Monsieur Valletta caught me in the apartment with his assistant, you were nowhere to be found.” She paused to allow the statement to fully sink in. “Despite the fact I told you to stay with me unless I explicitly told you otherwise.”

“I was there, miss,” she protested as she reached to open the carriage curtains once more. “Just not where you could see me.”

The maid sat back and continued to fidget with her laces, although they were already firmly tied, a clear indication to Sadie that the girl had something to hide. Perhaps now was the time to ask the question Sadie had thought she might save for later.

“Julia.”

At the sound of her name, the maid looked up. “Yes, miss?”

“Where were you? And why couldn’t I see you?”

She let out a long breath. “All right. I admit I had a bit of a panic. I saw that man, the one you’re saying is Monsieur Valletta.”

“Go on.”

“He was skulking around in the back garden. Pacing, really, as if he was aggrieved at something. Or maybe someone.”

“How did you see this?”

Julia sat up straight, her back barely touching the cushions. Her
attention went to the window and stayed there. “You told me to open the curtains, remember?”

“And you saw him then? Why didn’t you say something?”

“And alert that other man? I didn’t think it was wise, miss. If you’ll pardon me, I did not believe he was the least bit trustworthy.”

Neither had she, but to hear such incisive thoughts from a maid gave her confidence that the girl was a good judge of people. “That does not explain why I could not see you.”

“No, it does not. I know you asked me to stay put, and I would have, but the fellow, well, he looked like he might be trouble, and so I went down the stairs to where I could see better into the garden without letting the man in those strange clothes know I was spying. You see, there’s a window there that looks out, and…”

She looked away.

“And?”

“And that’s when I saw the mister.”

“Mr. Tucker?” Sadie sat up a little straighter, ignoring the jab at her temples. “The man who helped me to the carriage?”

“Yes, miss. He came through the curtain, and I might have gasped. And that might have caused him to find me on the stairs.”

“Might have?”

“It was the reason he found me, yes.”

Outside the familiar landmarks of the River Road rolled past. They had little time left now.

“Please continue,” Sadie said. “What happened next?”

“The man who was pacing the back garden came hurrying in the back door like he owned the place. The mister, he pulled me into the closet that’s right next to the big room where you were doing your art shopping. Said it was so he could have the element of surprise over the fellow.”

Sadie smiled at the girl’s description of her purpose for being there. Art shopping was indeed the last thing she had been doing, but it pleased her to think that might be what Julia would believe.

At least she hadn’t completely lost her ability to do her job as a Pinkerton agent. After Gabriel spied her in the French Quarter, she had begun to have her doubts.

“I was quiet like he said I should be. Once we heard you speaking to Monsieur Valletta, then Mr. Tucker asked that I go and see what was going on.”

The carriage slowed to turn off the River Road and onto Callum property. Sadie thought carefully before speaking. “Why did you listen to Mr. Tucker and not to me?”

“But I thought…” Her voice fell silent as color crept into her cheeks. “I don’t suppose I have a good answer for that other than what he said made sense at the time. I thought it would be what you might have said if you could have.”

And perhaps it might have been. Still, the fact that Julia decided that on her own troubled her.

Sadie remained silent the remainder of the trip. Though it was customary to stop at the front of the house to let off family, the driver continued around back to return the carriage to the place where it had been parked before the day’s adventure began.

When the carriage rolled to a halt just out of sight of the house, Sadie moved to place her hand over the door’s handle. She fixed the maid with a serious look.

“You will tell no one of what has transpired today. Do you understand? Not my mother or father or any of the household staff. If questioned, you will say that you accompanied me on a shopping trip. And I specifically forbid you to discuss this in any way with Mr. Tucker. Do you understand?”

“Yes, miss.” She lifted downcast eyes. “I am sorry I didn’t do as you asked. I thought…” Her words trailed off as tears welled in her eyes. “I thought I was helping.”

Sadie softened her expression, though only slightly. Civilians who helped were sometimes more dangerous than the criminals the Pinkerton agents pursued.

“You are forgiven. Now dry your eyes lest someone ask you why you’re crying.”

The young woman nodded and retrieved a handkerchief from her pocket to dab at her cheeks. When she moved to retrieve the carpetbag, Sadie stopped her.

“I will keep that with me.”

“Yes, miss.”

The door opened, and Sadie allowed the driver to help her out. Though her knees felt wobbly and her head pounded, she managed to make her way inside.

Uncle Penn met her in the foyer with a worried expression. “Where have you been?”

Glancing around, Sadie shook her head as she returned her attention to her uncle. “I cannot tell you right at this moment. However, suffice it to say I’ve had an interesting morning.”

“As have I.” Uncle Penn linked arms with her and hurried her into Mama’s formal parlor.