Sadie's Secret: 3 (The Secret Lives of Will Tucker) (49 page)

BOOK: Sadie's Secret: 3 (The Secret Lives of Will Tucker)
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“I’ve been thinking about your description of the events at Valletta’s shop. You said he called your maid by her last name, even though you had not used her name in his presence.”

The intoxicatingly male scent of patchouli and soap rose when he shifted positions to lean closer. Focus became difficult, and yet she managed. “Originally, that is what I thought happened. But later I wondered if that was what really happened.”

“Why? I would think you would normally have a good grasp of the details of any situation, even one as highly charged as that was.”

She paused to think. “I was talking to Julia about it, and she said…Oh, no.”

“What?”

“I thought I was confused because I had hit my head when I fell, but…” She froze.
“She
was the one to suggest that when I questioned her about it. Oh, Jefferson, how could I miss such an elementary piece of police work as to let someone I suspected misdirect me?”

He was silent a moment. “It doesn’t matter now. But before we can go any further, you and I need to find the answer.”

“How?”

“I have an idea. I’ve already made my excuses for the evening. What I need you to do is keep my father and the others busy for a while. See that dinner is prolonged rather than quickly finished. Can you do that?”

“I’ll try.”

“I know. Tell him I have changed my mind and will be along later for dessert and coffee. That way I will come to you rather than having you and the men return early.”

“I can see how that would work, but what possible excuse can I offer for this sudden change in your plans?”

“You’re good at what you do, Sadie. I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Thirty-Seven

J
efferson watched from the galley as his father escorted Sadie and the others down the gangplank and into a waiting carriage. Unless he missed his guess, the maid would either be in Sadie’s stateroom readying her things for bed or she would be in one of the smaller quarters on the lower level.

Because Sadie’s room was closest, he went there first, slipping down the darkened corridor and into her chambers without encountering anyone. Once inside the room, he turned the key to lock the door and then reached into his pocket to retrieve another gadget Kyle had loaned him.

Though the spectacles appeared as if they were merely normal eyeglasses, they were indeed, a miraculous way to see in the dark. What might appear in shadow, if at all, showed up in greater detail when viewed through these lenses. It was a marvel, this invention, and something he would be loath to return when the time came.

Scanning the room, Jefferson spied nothing out of the ordinary other than the oversized bathtub that the crew had emptied but not yet retrieved. He moved toward the dresser and found a hairbrush and a bottle of perfume. Even now he could detect the faint scent that was uniquely Sadie.

He smiled and moved on, unwilling to allow even a moment of distraction, however pleasant. On the table next to the bunk was a book and a glass of something, water from the looks of it.

Leaving everything as he found it, Jefferson returned to the door to unlock it and then slid the eyeglasses back into his pocket. Just as he was
about to open the door, he heard footsteps in the corridor. When they stopped in the hall in front of him, he dove into the shadows.

Julia Oakman, if that was truly her name, entered the room. Light from the corridor spilled in but thankfully did not reach his hiding place.

She opened the linen press and appeared to be putting items inside. Or perhaps she was taking things out. Jefferson couldn’t tell from his vantage point. He waited until she completed her work and left before he moved back toward the door.

Following her without being detected was impossible given the layout of the vessel, so he allowed her to escape the corridor before he pursued her. Keeping to the shadows once he spied her scurrying down the stairs to the lower level, Jefferson was able to see which of the quarters belonged to the maid.

He then doubled back to Sadie’s stateroom and once again locked the door. This time he lit the lamps and made a thorough inspection, checking to see if anything appeared to be tampered with.

Finding nothing out of order in the linen press, at least as far as he could determine, Jefferson returned the room to its darkened state and headed back down to the lower level. Arriving at the maid’s bedchamber, he knocked twice with no answer either time.

“Looking for the pretty redhead?”

Jefferson turned around to see one of the crew, a man young enough to still have splotches on his face, watching him from the door across the hall. “The maid, yes.”

“She’s gone out.”

“Out? Are you certain?”

“Her lady gave her the evening free. That’s what she told me as I passed her just now on the gangplank.”

“Thank you.”

Jefferson waited until the lad once again disappeared behind his closed door before testing the knob and finding that Miss Oakman had left her chamber unlocked. With another glance behind him, Jefferson slipped inside.

As there was no porthole on this level, the room was dark as night. He donned the glasses and had a look around.

The maid had only one nice gown, the green one he’d seen her in earlier. Two other dresses were folded neatly at the bottom of a small trunk along with several other items of women’s clothing and an empty carpetbag. A serviceable pair of ladies’ boots were situated next to the trunk, and a wrapper and nightgown were hanging on a peg beside the pitcher and washbasin. A garment lay on the bunk. Jefferson reached out to touch it. Silk. Likely one of Sadie’s dresses brought down to be cleaned or mended.

He stepped away from the bunk and gave the tiny space one more sweeping glance. With nothing to indicate anything suspicious, he could only conclude that either there was a logical explanation for Valletta’s knowledge of the maid’s last name or Sadie’s recollection of the event was faulty.

Given the fact that the pretty Pinkerton agent had taken a nasty blow to her head and required assistance—by John, he was loath to recall—to reach the carriage, the latter was the more likely scenario. Jefferson left the room as he found it and went into town to join his father and their guests.

“Well, look who’s here,” Captain Tucker said when Jefferson took the empty seat at the table.

The music was lively, as was the conversation between Sadie and the two members of her family, but the look on his father’s face told him he had best not ignore the warning there. “Perhaps we could speak outside?”

After making their excuses, the men found a quiet spot on the restaurant’s easternmost side. “All right,” his father said, “where were you?”

“I was making certain the maid was who she claimed to be.”

“Jefferson, haven’t I warned you about dallying with the staff—”

“That is
not
what I said.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I said I was investigating Miss Callum’s employee, Dad. Don’t you find it interesting that she just happened to come along with Callum and his brother-in-law?”

“I do not.” His father crossed his arms over his chest in what was surely a defensive posture. “Apparently, Mrs. Callum’s opinions are highly valued, and she wished the girl to go. So she went. And truly, son, if I am wrong, then why did all three members of that family feel the need to discuss whether Mary Callum would hear about a sunburn?” He shook his head. “I assure you that would not be a cause for concern in our family.”

“There are no daughters in our family,” Jefferson reminded him. “I warrant there are other things Mother concerns herself with that these people might find strange. But that is not what we’re discussing here.”

“I am at a loss, then. What
are
we discussing?”

Jefferson thought a moment. “Coincidences. We are talking about coincidences. How do you think those men found us? Did you tell anyone you were planning to stop in Key West? Because I certainly was not aware of it.”

His father shrugged. “I might have. Why does it matter?”

Why indeed.

“Because I do not like it when my plans are changed.”

His father laughed. “Oh, so now we’re at the heart of it. You’re in charge here, and blast anyone who doesn’t let you know when something’s going to deviate from the schedule?”

Jefferson stepped back and copied his father’s stance. “Actually, yes. The plan was to get Sadie and me to Newport in the fastest manner possible. An overnight jaunt in the Keys is not the fastest way, is it? And if you did not tell me ahead of time, then why would you tell Sadie’s father?”

“I beg to differ, son. There’s a wind blowing out in the Atlantic that’s going to move out of my way come morning. But right now the charts aren’t looking too friendly. And so I decided I’d make a stop and let the blow head away rather than take a chance and plow through it.”

The answer sounded logical, and yet it was all too convenient. Too much of a coincidence.

“So you’re swearing to me that you did not plan to stop here in Key West so that Seamus Callum and his entourage could join us?”

“That is ridiculous.” The captain shook his head and then pressed past him. “You can stand out here all night for all I care, but we have guests in there, and I do not intend to cause them to believe that I am a poor host.” He walked a few steps and then stopped to look back at Jefferson. “We were just about to order dessert. Are you coming?”

He nodded, though there was much more he wanted to say. His father always said the measure of a man was in knowing when to speak and when to remain silent.

So Jefferson said nothing as he followed his father back inside.
Something was not right. His gut told him there was more to the situation. And his gut never steered him wrong. Therefore, he would investigate. Just not tonight.

Sadie met his eyes as he settled back into his place at the table. Her questioning look told him she was wondering what he had discovered. Not until their carriage ride back to the schooner was he able to respond.

“You recall the question I had earlier,” he said when the three older men were sufficiently distracted in a conversation of their own.

“Yes.” She glanced at her father and then back at Jefferson. “Was it resolved to your satisfaction?”

“For now. But the item must be returned. It cannot remain.”

“I see.” She worried with the trim on her sleeve and then lifted her gaze to meet his. “Should I practice vigilance or consider the matter settled? Once the item is no longer with me, I mean.”

“Vigilance is always best when practiced regularly, don’t you think?”

She did, of course. No one with a career such as hers would disagree.

“And in the meantime, so shall I.” He smiled. “Though the likelihood of any concern is esteemed to be slight.”

“What are you two discussing?” his father asked.

Jefferson affected a casual expression. “Matters of mutual interest,” he said as Sadie looked away with a smile.

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