Stealing Jake (26 page)

From this distance, she could see the jail. She took a deep breath. Would Jake be there, or Sheriff Carter? She hadn’t spoken much with the sheriff. Maybe she should talk to him. That would be better than talking to Jake, wouldn’t it? Her steps faltered and her hands turned clammy as she eyed the jail. Maybe she should just go back to the orphanage. She clenched her jaw. She couldn’t. No matter what Jake thought of her, Luke and the other boys’ lives depended on her.

She found the jail empty. The cells mocked her. Livy pivoted, her heart pounding. She didn’t have to be afraid. She’d been forgiven of everything she’d done wrong. Her sins had been cast into the depths of the sea, just as God promised. If He had forgiven her, then why couldn’t she forgive herself?

She bowed her head.
Lord, forgive me for doubting You. I know I’m forgiven, and I don’t intend to slip back into my old ways ever again. Thank You for sending Mrs. Brooks my way.

The door opened, and she whirled around. Jake stepped inside and removed his hat. A surprised glint lit his eyes when he saw her. Then his face hardened, and he turned away, taking his time placing his hat on a peg and shrugging out of his coat. “Morning, Livy.

She shivered at his cold, impassive tone. Whatever feelings he’d felt for her had died when he’d found out she’d roamed the streets of Chicago. Ice coated her heart, and she shrugged. She had nothing to lose now, so what did it matter what he thought about her? “Luke came to see me this morning.”

He faced her, his eyes narrowed. “He did? Is he ready to turn himself in?”

Livy glared at him. “Why should he turn himself in? He’s done nothing wrong. For your information, he brought another orphan to us. Then he told me—”

Jake took a step toward her. “What? What did he tell you?”

She plunged in. “You know what a sweatshop is, don’t you?”

“I’ve heard the term.”

“Well, according to Luke, there’s a sweatshop here.”

“In Chestnut?”

“Yes.”

Jake’s brow creased, and he sat on the edge of Sheriff Carter’s desk. His green eyes probed hers. “Why are you telling me this now? Last night you said you didn’t know anything about the robberies.”

“I still don’t know anything about the robberies, except that I don’t believe it’s Luke who’s doing it.” She met his gaze head-on, wishing she could’ve talked to Sheriff Carter instead. Suspicion about her motives seemed to cloud Jake’s opinion of everything she said. Sheriff Carter would’ve listened without second-guessing. She tilted her chin up. “I’m here because if we don’t find out who bought these kids, they’ll probably end up dead.”

Jake held up a hand. “Whoa. What do you mean by ‘bought’ them?”

“From what Luke said, the owner of the sweatshop—”

“Who?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t know the man’s name. Called him the boss. From what Luke said, the owner gets them out of Chicago if they’ll work for him for six months to a year. There’s only one reason I can think of that would make the kids agree to that.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “If they’d been arrested?”

“I think so. What if the Chicago police are involved? I wouldn’t be a bit surprised. I’ve seen my fair share of corrupt officers.”

Jake stood and paced the length of the jail. “Let me get this straight. A kid is arrested in Chicago. The police contact the sweatshop owners and make a deal. The city gets rid of the boy, and the sweatshop gets free labor for six months to a year. The kid isn’t charged with a crime, he gets out of Chicago, and everybody’s happy.”

“Pretty much.” Livy crossed her arms. “Except for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The sweatshop owner has no intention of letting the kids go after six months. Do you think anybody who’s buying children will let them walk away when the specified term is up? Hardly. He can’t afford to.”

Jake took a deep breath. “Where are all these kids coming from?”

Livy shook her head. “Who knows? Some lose their parents to sickness, and some are abandoned. Other families lost their farms and got split up by the war.”

* * *

Jake raked a hand through his hair. Having a bunch of older boys preying on the citizens of Chestnut was one thing, but knowing that someone might be shipping in children to work in a sweatshop was a different matter altogether. Where to begin looking? The logical place would be shantytown. “All right. Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me. You’ll let me know if you hear anything else, won’t you?”

Livy crossed her arms. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. You need my help, and you know it.”

“Uh-uh.” Jake mirrored her stance. “You’re going right back to the orphanage where you belong.”

She glared at him, blue eyes spitting fire. “Make me.”

He glared right back, wanting to shake her and take her in his arms and kiss her all at the same time. He did none of the above. “I could lock you up.”

She laughed. “We’ve been over that before. You don’t have any grounds. If you won’t accept my help, then leave me alone. I’ll look around, and if I find out anything important, I’ll let you know.” She turned toward the door.

Jake took three strides and grabbed her arm. “Hold on a minute. You’re not going to find out anything.”

She shrugged him off. “Jake, you have a choice. You can take me with you when you start looking for the sweatshop—there may be more than one—or . . .” Her gaze slid to the cells at the back of the jail. “Or you can lock me up. I won’t see these kids dead.”

Jake watched her face; she meant every word. She’d just get in the way if he let her tag along. But on the other hand, he’d be able to keep her out of trouble. He let loose a grim smile. “All right; you win. I’ll stop by the orphanage about ten tonight.”

“I’ll be ready.”

He leaned against the doorjamb and watched her pick her way down the boardwalk, daintily holding her cloak above the icy slush. His gaze narrowed. After one night of trying to keep up with him in this weather, she’d have enough of this foolishness and be ready to leave everything up to him.

Chapter Twenty-One

“Douse the light. Somebody’s coming.”

The mine plunged into darkness, and Luke and the other boys waited. Just his luck that the new hiding place he’d been scouting for himself and the other street kids was so quickly discovered. He wouldn’t be coming back here anytime soon. A dim light flickered along the walls, leading the way for whoever had entered the abandoned mine.

“Be still, you little beggar.”

Luke’s mouth went dry as he recognized Grady’s voice. Shadows, long against the moisture-slick walls, drew closer as Grady appeared. He held a lantern in one hand and a child in the other.

“Let me go.” The boy jerked against Grady’s hold.

Grady didn’t reply, just kept moving deeper into the mine, the child struggling against his grip. Grady cursed as the boy kicked out, making contact with his leg.

Luke strained to hear more. Was it Mark? He couldn’t decide if they should rush Grady and grab the boy or wait and see what Grady intended to do. Before he could make up his mind, Grady slipped on a piece of loose shale, and the boy jerked out of his grasp and scrambled away.

“Hey, get back here.” Grady lunged for the boy.

The boy stepped back, his eyes widening as he teetered on the edge of a drop-off. Luke bit back a gasp as the boy tumbled down the steep incline, his scream mixed with the sounds of falling rock and dirt. When the rocks stopped falling, there was dead silence.

“Hey, kid?” Grady held the lantern high. “Answer me, boy.”

There was no reply. Grady cursed under his breath as he stumbled along the ledge. After several minutes, he stopped, peering into the darkness below.

“Good riddance. Saves me the trouble of knocking you off like the boss wanted.” Grady turned and walked out of the mine, the flickering light fading to complete darkness as he disappeared.

Luke crouched in silence, horrified at what he’d just witnessed. Was the boy dead? If he hadn’t fallen, would Grady have killed him right before their eyes? Grady hadn’t even bothered to see if he was still alive.

Suddenly one thing became clear. He couldn’t bargain with these people for Mark’s freedom.

* * *

Darkness cloaked the orphanage.

Jake rapped his knuckles on the kitchen door, just loud enough for Livy to hear. He waited about two seconds before turning away. After all her brave talk, she’d probably decided she’d rather sleep than wander around shantytown in the cold. He eased off the porch, being careful not to cause the boards to creak. He didn’t want to wake Mrs. Brooks and have to explain why he was here. A dark shadow, covered head to foot in a black cloak, slipped away from an oak tree a few feet away. He stopped and stared.

Livy? She moved silently, coming right up to him. Blue eyes, sparkling in the moonlight, peered out from underneath the hood covering her hair. “You ready?” she breathed, so low he barely heard her.

He nodded and headed toward the center of town, setting a bruising pace. If she wanted to play detective, she’d need to keep up. He crossed the street and cut down the alley between the blacksmith shop and the livery stable. Livy fell behind. Jake slowed his pace and let her catch up with him. “Too fast for you?”

She jutted out her chin. “I’ll manage.”

He zigzagged across town, avoiding houses whose dogs tended to bark if a shadow came within a hundred yards of their space. They were both winded by the time he paused at the edge of shantytown and canvassed the area. The grist mill lay to their right, shrouded in the grove of cottonwoods nestled against the frozen creek. Shantytown ran the length of the creek between the mill and the coal mines north of town.

Early Chestnut settlers had raised families and started businesses along the creek, but when the railroad came through, people moved closer to the train station, abandoning the buildings. Squatters, indigent coal miners, and now a gang of street kids had taken up residence. If they could cobble together a place to live for free, they would.

Jake panned the area, not seeing anything out of place. He padded across an alley to a jumble of dilapidated buildings, intending to skirt them. Livy followed. Moments later, she tugged at his coat sleeve. Then she leaned close and whispered in his ear. “Follow me.”

Curious, he let her lead the way. She ducked low and entered a ramshackle building that looked in danger of falling down on their heads. He started to call out for her to wait, but she’d already darted through the opening. Jake squeezed through. No wonder the street kids were so elusive. They were able to get into much smaller spaces than he could. The shack, leaning against another building, acted almost like a hallway. The rear wall had collapsed, and Livy eased through that as well, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he still followed.

She wove her way in and out of close places. “This is the type of place the street kids would stay in. Buildings most people wouldn’t think twice about looking into.”

“It’s a fire hazard waiting to happen.”

Coming out into the open again, they passed half a dozen tar-paper shacks thrown up in the last week. But a building with a lock and boarded-up windows caught Jake’s attention. Apparently Livy noticed it as well. She pulled out a couple of long wires.

Jake reached out to stop her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Her gaze met his. “Don’t you want to see what’s inside?”

Jake eyed the wires in her hand, doubting she could get inside even if she wanted to. “We can’t just break in.”

“Even if something illegal’s going on in there?” She turned to the lock.

“Livy—”

To his surprise, the lock popped open a few seconds later, and Livy slipped inside the building. He gritted his teeth and followed her, intent on dragging her outside and raking her over the coals.

He took one look inside the empty building, grabbed Livy by the arm, and pulled her outside. He snapped the lock into place and stuck his nose within inches of hers. “I oughta haul you in for breaking and entering.”

“But what if it had been a sweatshop? You have to admit it looked suspicious. Windows boarded up, locked up tight as a drum.”

“Doesn’t matter. You can’t go around breaking in to buildings just because they look suspicious.”

She huffed away, and he followed, shaking his head.

They checked out several more buildings, small shops making candles and such, but none of them looked like they were trying to hide their enterprises. Everything seemed on the up-and-up.

“Come on, let’s call it a night,” Jake said. “We’re not likely to find anything else.”

Livy turned down the nearest alley.

“Where you going?”

She glanced at him. “Back to the orphanage.”

“That way?”

“It’s the shortest route I know of.”

“But not the safest. We’ll go the long way if you don’t mind.” Jake snagged her wrist and pulled her along with him. “How do you know your way around shantytown?”

“When I moved here, I spent a couple of hours every day exploring Chestnut. There’s not much of the town I don’t know. Except that it’s growing so fast. There’s a whole new section of shacks close to the coal mines that I haven’t explored yet.”

Jake scowled. He knew the place. She was determined to get herself killed. “Livy, you know better than to wander around a place like that. It’s dangerous.”

“No more dangerous than wandering around with you.” She smiled, a cheeky grin that showed she wasn’t afraid of anything. “Besides, I can take care of myself.”

Jake shook his head. How had she survived all those years in Chicago? Who knew when a drunk would stagger out of an alley intent on knifing someone for a few dollars? His heart lurched.

He stopped and turned her to face him. “Livy, maybe you can, but promise me you won’t keep wandering around town after dark.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms and pulled her close so there would be no mistaking his intent. “I don’t want to find you in an alley or floating in the creek some morning. Promise me?”