The Matrimony Plan (19 page)

Gabriel grabbed the raincoat hanging by the door. “I’m going with you.” Whether Felicity was lost, had run off or was hurt, she was out in this storm. Gabriel’s heart pounded slow and hard, like a fist thudding into a punching bag. “We’ll find her.”

Kensington nodded grimly. “Let’s hope we’re not too late.”

G
abriel followed Branford Kensington into a steady, light rain that beaded off his coat. The man might be a criminal, but he loved his daughter. On that they agreed.

The storm had cleared the mugginess from the air, bringing a chill. If Felicity were caught outdoors, she would be cold and soaked through, ingredients for a fever. They needed to find her quickly.

“After me.” Kensington strode toward the side of the house where Mariah parked her car.

Gabriel reached back to close the door, but Slinky slipped out. He grabbed the dog by the collar and tried to shuttle him into the kitchen, but Slinky refused to budge.

“Come on, boy. I don’t have time for this.”

Mariah poked her head out the screen door. “You’d better take him. Here’s his leash.”

Kensington called from the side gate. “What’s keeping you, son?”

Gabriel struggled to attach the leash. The rain made the metal cold and slippery. “Slinky thinks I’m taking him for a walk.”

To his surprise Kensington said, “Bring him along then. The mutt might have a good nose.”

Count on Branford Kensington to treat this like a hunting expedition. Finally Gabriel clipped the leash in place, and Slinky took off.

“Where should we start?” Gabriel asked, struggling to hold the dog back.

“I was hoping you’d know. Already checked the cinema and the drugstore.”

Gabriel cringed at the mention of the drugstore, but clearly Kensington wasn’t referring to the blind pig in the back. Honestly, Gabriel couldn’t see Felicity at any of the places Kensington mentioned. She was more likely to stroll in the park. Other than the mercantile, he’d never seen her in any Pearlman business.

Kensington closed the gate behind them and headed toward the street. Gabriel racked his brain. Where would she go?

The constant dripping of the rain dampened his hopes they’d find her unharmed. Think…he had to think.

“Let’s work from what we know,” Gabriel suggested, coming up on Kensington’s heels. “You said you last saw her at the church?”

“She excused herself to go to the washroom but never returned. At first I thought she went home, but none of the servants saw her come or go.”

A knot twisted in Gabriel’s stomach. What would Felicity do? She’d gotten a terrible shock, one that had unhinged her entire world. In the past, when faced with adversity she took shelter behind her family name. Remove that, and she had nowhere to hide. Kensington owned nearly every business in town. She wouldn’t go into any them, except… His mouth went dry.

“I hate to mention it,” he said slowly, “but have you checked the train station?”

“Allington says he didn’t see her. She definitely didn’t buy a ticket.”

“Thank God. Would she have gone to her brother’s house?”

Kensington shook his head. “He’s checking with everyone she knows.”

“Did you talk with the sheriff?”

“He’s not in,” Kensington growled.

They’d reached the junction of Elm and Main. From there, Gabriel could see the church steeple, backlit by the receding lightning. Felicity had stood up to her mother about that stained glass window. She’d refused Blevins. She’d come to him with the idea of the boarding school for orphans. She was strong, and she was also tied to this community. She wouldn’t leave, even after getting the shock of her life. That meant she was still here, but where?

Unfortunately, he was out of ideas. “What do you suggest?”

“Comb the town. Knock on doors. You take one street, I’ll take the next.”

It seemed an inefficient way of searching, but Gabriel didn’t have a better idea. “What are her favorite places? Who are her friends?”

“I’m not sure.” Kensington frowned. “I should have spent more time with my children, but one business or another always needed my attention.”

Gabriel had heard his father lament the same tugging between family and the need to provide, but Dad had chosen family more often than not.

“She liked to walk in the park,” Gabriel suggested.

Kensington shook his head. “In the dark? We’re wasting time here, son. I say you take Main and I’ll take Oak.”

Lacking a better plan, Gabriel started to cross the street,
but Slinky had other ideas. He dug in, tugging Gabriel the opposite direction with insistent barking.

“What’s with that dog?” Kensington said.

“I don’t know. He won’t cross the street.” Gabriel tried again with the same result. “He probably needs to do his business.”

“Make it quick, then. Without the sheriff’s help, we’re undermanned.”

The sheriff. If Ilsley wasn’t in the office, he must be staking out the root cellar. Felicity said she’d played around the homestead when she was a child. What if she’d gone there to get out of the rain? If so, the sheriff might have found her by now. She’d be rescued or… His pulse quickened as he thought of another scenario. Both the smugglers and the sheriff carried guns. In the dark, either side might mistake her for the other. She could be a hostage or worse.

Gabriel clutched Slinky’s leash so tightly that his hand ached. Rain drummed against his raincoat. “I have an idea, Mr. Kensington, and could use your help.” He had to hold his hand to his brim to shield his eyes from the rain. “There’s a root cellar out behind parsonage land. Felicity said it was part of the old Warren homestead. Do you know the place?”

Kensington’s expression glimmered with hope. “You think she might’ve taken shelter there?”

“It’s a possibility.”

Even in the dim light of Kensington’s flashlight, Gabriel saw his mouth tense. The man knew what that meant, especially if a delivery was scheduled that night.

“Think you can find it in the dark?” Kensington asked.

Odd. The man clearly knew its location. He’d been there before. Yet he asked Gabriel to lead the way. A delivery must be underway, and Kensington didn’t want to blow his cover, even with his daughter missing. Gabriel couldn’t get
the nasty taste from his mouth. Apparently for Kensington, business came before everything, even his daughter’s life.

“Well?” Kensington snapped. “Do you or don’t you know how to find it?”

Gabriel shook off a warning shiver. “I think so. Actually, Slinky’s the one who found it. Maybe he’ll lead the way. Come on, boy. Find Felicity.”

Slinky strained on his leash as he ran into the park. Gabriel could swear the dog understood the urgency of the situation and was leading them directly to Felicity.

They proceeded through the park at a quick pace, keeping to the paths. Eventually they’d have to set off through the woods, but Gabriel wanted Kensington to reveal his hand. When they reached the point where they’d have to trudge into the forest, he’d ask Kensington if he knew the way. Until then, they walked in silence, led by Slinky’s panting and rustling.

Kensington apparently didn’t want to talk, even about Felicity. By the time they reached the pavilion, Gabriel couldn’t stand the quiet any longer. “She had no idea she was adopted?”

Most people would balk at such a personal question, but not Kensington. “We thought it best she never know. It’s a small town.”

“And people would talk?”

Kensington nodded.

Once again, they walked in silence, with only the patter of rain to accompany them.

At the river, Gabriel headed toward parsonage property, but Slinky tugged to go in the opposite direction. “That’s odd. We never walk that way.”

“Probably got a whiff of a rabbit,” Kensington grunted.

Gabriel tugged, trying to point Slinky toward the root cellar, but the dog whined and cowered, the way he had the
day Coughlin had hold of him. The moment came back in vivid detail. Felicity running after Coughlin in her stockings, insisting he not kill the dog. Gabriel had to intercede, and then somehow he’d ended up with the stray. Though he’d made Felicity promise to find Slinky another home by the end of summer, the dog had stamped a permanent place in Gabriel’s heart.

“Come on, boy,” Gabriel urged. “This way.”

“That’s no way to make a dog heel.” Kensington grabbed the leash and gave it a yank.

Slinky whined, as fearful as he’d been with Coughlin. Gabriel instinctively took the leash from Kensington, but as he did, a thought crept into his mind. What if Kensington—and perhaps Coughlin—had run into Slinky while delivering bootlegged liquor? Maybe that’s why the dog had gone to the root cellar during the picnic. He knew where to hide things, and he knew where things were hidden. His reaction to Kensington told Gabriel the two weren’t strangers. If Gabriel had needed any confirmation of the man’s guilt, he just had it. All he had to do was trap the man in his lies.

He tossed out a little test. “I’m not sure I can find the cellar from this direction. Do you happen to know the way?”

Kensington glared a moment, then handed him the leash. “Follow me. If the dog won’t come, leave him.”

Gabriel’s suspicions were confirmed. Kensington knew how to find the root cellar. He was the shorter man with the rifle that Gabriel had seen that night. If the sheriff had staked out the site tonight, Kensington was walking right into the trap. Within moments, the truth would be out.

Gabriel knelt to stroke Slinky’s head. He could use a friend on his side. Kensington might not be carrying a rifle, but the bootleggers would have guns. “Come with me, Slinky,” he said loudly and then whispered, “and keep quiet. This is important.”

The dog’s upright ear pricked as if he understood. With any luck, they’d find Felicity before the sheriff ambushed the bootleggers. And if they didn’t? People could get killed—and that included Felicity.

Felicity backed into the farthest reaches of the cave. Spiders, bats and insects. Every one made her skin crawl, but a man with a gun trumped them all. Lord, this wasn’t the type of help she wanted.

She crouched low in the inky blackness, hoping the man wouldn’t shine the lantern into the back of the cave. She reached behind her, and her hand met a wall of cool, damp earth. She couldn’t go any farther.

“Quick now,” the man commanded.

He held up the lantern, revealing his face—or at least the part she could see. He wore a tattered old hat pulled low and a cloth tied around his face like a bank robber in a moving picture show. He swung the lantern into the cave, and she pressed against the dirt wall. A knobby root dug into her back.

God, help me.

She didn’t dare breathe lest the man hear her.

Someone grunted and set a small crate or box near the front of the cave.

“Hurry, before we’re spotted,” the leader said.

Though Felicity couldn’t make out what was in the crates, she knew it had to be illegal. A spidery cold sweat crept over her limbs.

Painful seconds later, another man brought a second crate and stacked it atop the first. As he adjusted it, something clinked. She’d thought that sound was metal on metal before, but it wasn’t. It was glass.

Alcohol. It had to be alcohol. Vanesia Lawrence’s blind pig got liquor from somewhere. It had come in during state
Prohibition, and it continued to arrive during federal Prohibition.

The leader waved his pistol. Alcohol and guns were a bad combination.

She made herself small as crate after crate was stacked across the opening of the cave to form a low wall. At first she was relieved, because the crates partially hid her, but then she realized that soon they would box her in. If the wall was only one crate thick, she could push through, but if the men made several rows, she’d be trapped, unable to get out. She had to leave now, before all hope of escape was gone.

Several deep breaths calmed her racing mind, and soon she saw the way. Crates arrived every fifteen to twenty seconds. Between deliveries, the leader faced toward the river to watch his men. He didn’t realize someone was behind him in the cave. He wouldn’t see her if she slipped past while he was watching his men, but she had to be quick—and quiet.

She waited until the deliveryman headed down to the river and the leader turned to watch him. After taking a deep breath, she crawled forward on her hands and knees. Stones bit into her flesh, and the dampness drove a chill deep into her bones.

She paused at the narrow opening, ready to dart out, when the leader turned and coughed. In a flash, she scurried behind the wall of crates and waited to see if she’d been discovered.

“Hurry,” the leader growled to one of his men.

She could breathe again. He hadn’t spotted her.

Soon she heard the thrashing of the deliveryman. There was only room for a couple more crates, and then the cave would be sealed shut. She waited until she heard the crate drop and then stifled her alarm when the man pushed it into the empty space. She’d have to climb over it and hope she was quick enough and quiet enough to avoid detection.

Her palms were clammy and her breath shallow. She had no choice. She had to attempt it.

She crouched, poised to jump, and the moment she heard footsteps moving away, she scrambled over the crate. Then she froze. The leader stood too close to the front of the cave. She had barely a foot of space to slip behind him. How could she get past without drawing notice? But she had no choice. If she went back into the cave, she’d be trapped.

Heart pounding, she slid sideways behind the man, praying he didn’t sense her.

“Your turn,” one of the men at the boat grumbled. “I done more’n half already.”

“Quiet,” the leader hissed, stepping forward.

The exchange gave Felicity the diversion she needed. She sprinted toward the path, but on the third step the ground gave way and she crashed downward, making enough noise to alert the entire town.

The leader whipped around and shined the lantern at her. “Who’s there?”

Felicity flattened herself against the ground.
Lord, please make me invisible.

“What are you doing?” the leader said much more clearly. He’d removed the handkerchief from his face.

Shock prickled her skin with a thousand sharp needles. She knew that voice, only now it didn’t reflect the simpering idiocy of the dandy. This Robert Blevins was strong and sure and most decidedly not the man he’d claimed to be.

She heard him step closer, and then he cocked the gun.