Read To love and to honor Online
Authors: Emilie Baker Loring
"Out with it only to you. I need your help."
*'Not consid'rin' moving in here, are you? Haven't forgotten that that marriage don't exist any more, have you?"
"No. No. Sit down again. Where did you pick up that crazy idea? I need someone in this house whom I can trust."
"What's goin* on in this house?" Her eyes were startled, her voice was shrill.
"Ssh-sh. Not so loud. Can you keep a secret?"
"I'm not Ella Crane who blabs everything she knows and a lot she doesn't. You'd be surprised if you knew the suspicions she's started about you an' why you're here."
"What has she said?"
"Now I've heard your story, what she's been broadcasting's nothing Hke the truth. I think Lyd Fane's been connivin' with her. She said when you were in her shop you spoke of a Sally an' she's kinder tying you up with the blonde who's leased Rockledge at Pirate's Cove."
"Now I've heard everything. I met the woman for the first time at the Armstrong dinner last evening."
"Ella don't need facts to go on. She's got imagination. Lots of folks like that. Want to know somethin'? I suspected who you were the day you phoned an' said Bill Damon wanted to speak to Mrs. Stewart. Can't say
rd been so smart if I hadn't written that letter. The mornin' you came to take Cindy to Trader Armstrong's office I was sure—then I was all at sea again when you let that annulment go through. Didn't seem as if a man after seeing Cindy would let her go. I'm sorry, I guess the way your jaw set I've blundered past a 'Keep OfiE' sign."
"Let's get back to open road. You're not such a gay deceiver as you think, I've had my suspicions that you knew who I am."
"Aren't you goin' to tell Cindy?"
"I had planned to tell her last evening, but the right moment didn't come. She's bound to resent the deception at first. I'll make an opportunity after we unmask tonight. You won't betray me?"
"Not me. I interfered in her life and yours for the last time when I wrote that letter."
"Your promise takes a weight from my mind. We must talk and talk fast. Watch the garden and garage and I'll keep my eyes on the hall door. I don't want Cindy to hear."
"Terrible in love with her, aren't you?"
He ignored the emotional unsteadiness of her voice.
"That road is posted 'No thoroughfare,' too."
"You're right. I don't mean to be nosy, but I've been so scared she'd take up with that Hal Harding. She never let on but I could see she was dreadful hurt that Kenniston Stewart wasn't interested enough in the girl he'd married to at least come and take a look at her, an* when a girl's pride is hurt there's no accountin' for what silly thing she'll do. Hal has had most every woman in town in love with him off an' on. I don't mean anything sinful, but they kinder lost their heads 'bout him. I'll admit that when he smiles at me an' says, 'How are you, Sary Ann Parker, how's the light of my life today?' I know perfectly well it's just his foolin', but I feel a kinder glow."
"Thanks for the tip, Sary." He laughed. "Now I know how to win friends and make love to a woman. Listen carefully, Cindy's safety and yours are threatened."
*'Sakes alive, your voice gives me the merry-pranks up an' down my spine. What's threatenin' us?"
He told of the jewels Cindy had found in the chest in which her fancy dress costumes were stored. Sarah Ann Parker listened breathlessly. When he finished her eyes bulged with unbelief, her cheeks burned red as her cotton dress.
"I went through each trunk and chest in the turret room this spring when I opened The Castle. That bag wasn't there then. How could a person get in an' hide somethin' in this house without me knowin' it?"
"You don't spend every moment of your life here, do you?"
" 'Course not, but I lock up tight as a drum when I go out."
He remembered the patio door which had opened so easily into the kitchen the day he had brought Cindy home, started to refer to it, abandoned the reminder as not being germane to the subject under discussion.
"Do many strangers come to the house?"
"My sakes alive, there are always folks drivin* up an* askin' to see the secret staircase—"
"I've heard of the secret staircase. Where is it?"
"The cupboard side of the fireplace in the old kitchen swings out an' there's a long flight of steps."
"Where do they lead?"
"To the turret room. Story is that when smugglers owned this place they hid up there. There was no other way to get there then. The first Clinton who owned the place had the present stairs built."
"Do many people know about the secret staircase? That's a senseless question. Ella Crane told me about it."
"An* what Ella Crane knows, the whole world knows. That maid, Rena Foster, who works for Mrs. Sally Drew, come over to see it soon after the family moved in, said she'd heard of it all her life—she's a village girl—I let her go up the secret stairs, her eyes were big as saucers—" Sarah Ann Parker's face paled. She gasped.
"You saw her, she's the one who sneaked into this kitchen askin' for eggs, the day Cindy fell asleep. She's
always ninnin' across tor recipes or crochet patterns. You don't suppose—"
"We won't suppose anything, we must plan, before Cindy comes."
"She won't be along yet. You told her to repack the chest as she found it. That will take time. Aren't you goin' to tell her what you're plannin' to do?"
"Later. You're breathless. Don't be frightened, Sary."
"Frightened? Me? I'm not frightened, I'm tickled pink. It's exciting. Always wished I could go to Hollywood an' act in one of those mystery movies, think I'd be good. Now I've got a chance at the real thing. A bag of jewels hidden in the turret. Can you beat that for a whodunit? What do we do next?"
"Listen carefully. If anyone comes to the patio begin to shell those peas."
With his eyes on the door which opened on the hall he told of a tentative plan which would afford present protection against the person or persons who were responsible for hiding the jewels. Sarah Ann Parker's nods of understanding, her muted "Yes"—"Yes"—"Yes"—in answer to his questions accompanied his low voice.
"You can see, can't you, Sary, that if the bag is removed from the chest the news is bound to leak and there wouldn't be five chances in ten that the person who hid it there would be caught."
"Sure, I see." She drew a long breath. "That eases the strain. I've been tense as a fiddlestring while I listened to what sounds more like a mellerdrama than anything that could happen in this village. Course the bag should be left where 'twas hid. I guess between us we're smart enough to catch the fella."
"Smart is as smart does. Don't budge from this house tonight—you won't be alone, I promise. Tell Cindy she must go to the ball, she declared she would remain on guard here, tell her you know what has happened. Everyone in town who can't be inside will be on the verandas of the Inn watching the masquerade through the windows. The person who hid the bag in the turret might consider this an opportunity to retrieve it, though somediing tells me it will stay there for a time unless the
thief is tipped off that it has been found. Don't let her stay at home. Here she com—" He finished the word outside the patio door.
I don't want the local police in on this yet, he thought, as he started his car he had left outside the garage. We'll give them the credit but the fewer who know about this at present the better. The hidden jewels tie in with the tip given Ally Barclay to watch The Castle. Who cached them there to divert suspicion from himself or the smugglers? It's up to me to find out.
At the same moment Cindy appeared in the doorw^ay of the kitchen. "Whose car did I hear?" she inquired. '*Where is Bill Damon?"
"That was him just goin*."
"Going? Going! Didn't he leave a message for me? Not a word about what I am to—"
"You needn't cut off what you was goin' to say, child. He told me what you found in the old chest along with your costumes."
"He did? Perhaps he told you what I am to do about it? Then again, perhaps he thinks I'm not capable of doing anything."
"Quiet down, Cindy. It don't suit you to be sarcastic Trust him. He's got everything under control."
"He has? Just like that. The masquerade is out. I won't leave this house till those jewels are turned over to the police. I know he doesn't think they should be, but I do. And after all, they are hidden in my house."
"Stop gettin' so het up, Cindy. Sure you'll go to the masquerade tonight. Mr. Damon said 'twas most important that you and I carry on as usual, as if we didn't know nothin', or whoever had landed that stuff there would be hep—that was his word—that we'd found it."
"Do you think I'll leave you here alone tonight, Sary? Not a chance."
"I won't be alone. I've been waitin' till you stopped boilin' to tell you I had a phone from my brother askin* if he could come an' stay here for a few days. Would you mind?"
"Mind? Of course I wouldn't mind. Is it Joe, the
brother who lives at Grand Manan? I think it's wonderful. You haven't seen him for years, have you?"
"No. He hasn't been very neighborly." She sniffed. "I wonder what's bringing him now? I'll bet he wants to borrow money."
"Sarah Ann Parker, you hard-boiled wretch. Why wouldn't he come just to see you? He named his first daughter for you, didn't he?"
"Yes, he did, an' he always sends me greetin' cards Christmas an' Easter. It was mean of me to suspect he had a motive for comin' other than puttin' across a lobster deal." She lowered her voice. "Could you get all the things back in the chest just as you found them, Cindy?"
"Slick as a bug in a rug. I brought Great-Grandmother's skating costume, plus the skates, down to my room in case I went to the masquerade. I had to re-inter Pocahontas. I intended to convince Colonel Damon that the loot should be out of the house as quickly as I could get the police here. But, I haven't the courage to buck his decision."
"You better not. That man knows where he's goin*. What good will the skates do you with the costume? Not floodin' the Inn floor with ice, are they, but such crazy things are bein' done now 1 wouldn't put it past the summer folks."
"The skates are for atmosphere, Sary. Flooding the floor with ice? That gives me an idea. I'll take—"
"Now who's at the front door? Ringin' an' ringin' 's though he thought we was all dead or sleeping."
"Perhaps it is your brother or—I know. It's Tom Slade. In the excitement of finding those jewels I forgot we had a tennis date. Coming. Coming," she called as she raced through the hall. She flung open the front door.
"Enter, Thomas. You're the perfect answer to this maiden's prayer."
She regretted her fervent welcome as additional color swept to his already brightly sunburned face and his eyes darkened. This is the second man I've greeted today as if he were a long-lost brother. I hope it isn't getting
to be a habit. He caught her hands in a grip which hurt.
"Is this what freedom does to you? Mean that as it sounds, Cindy?"
She shook her head.
"No, Tom. I'm sorry. I just had an inspiration for a razzle-dazzle entrance at the masquerade tonight and when you appeared you completed the picture. That's all."
"It's something to fit into a picture of which you're a part, lovely. It might have been Harding or the Damon guy who was elected. How about it, is the tennis game on or off?"
"Off, while we plan a gigantic act, Thomas. Come to the patio while I tell you how we can rock the very walls of the Inn this evening. We'll have to work like crazy to put it across. Are you with me?"
"I'm sold without knowing what I'm buying. On to the patio. Let's stop at the kitchen and ask Sary to rustle a couple of her tall, sparkling soda lemonades. Your excitement denotes a sizzling proposition. We'll need something iced to keep down our temperature."
1
NINETEEN
"Where'd you and that Mr. Slade run off to this afternoon?" Sarah Ann Parker inquired of Cindy seated at the glass table in the patio. Candles in tall hurricane lamps gave out a soft yellow light in the rosy dusk. She served a crystal cup heaped with fresh raspberry sherbet and set down a plate of wafer-thin cookies. "When I brought the soda lemonades you were gone."
"I had a world-shaking idea for the masquerade this evening and we rushed off to get a little practice."
"What sort of practice? Want to know somethin', you looked tired to death when you got home. You didn't stop to change that green linen dress, just had time to wash up for dinner."
"I'll be fresh as a daisy after a little rest and a shower. I have loads of time before the party. Did your brother come?"
"Sure. He got here 'bout half an hour before you. He seemed awful glad to see me, made me kind of ashamed I'd suspected he'd come to borrow money. He's in the kitchen."
"I'll stop and speak to him. Did Colonel Damon phone?"
"Yes." Sarah Ann Parker matched Cindy's whisper. "He asked for you. When I told him you'd gone off with Mr. Slade, he said. 'Tell her to be sure,' that's the way he said it, 'sure to go to the masquerade.' You'd better do as he says, Cindy."
"I will."
She sat for a few moments after Sarah Ann Parker
had closed the patio door behind her, thinking of the bag in the turret room, of her unsuccessful search for the jewel that had rolled from her lap, of Bill Damon's insistence that she was not to call the police at present, that she must go to the dance. If the person who had hidden the jewels came for them tonight it was his responsibility—it was hers to see that the thief was caught. Tom Slade would have been surprised if he had known the scheme she had been concocting while apparently absorbed in what he and she were doing.
Gorgeous evening. As she rose from the table she looked up at the blue sky dotted with swansdown fluffs of clouds tinted pink by the afterglow of the sunset beyond the harbor. "Wonderful worldl" she said aloud. She stopped to pick a brilliant red rose for her white fur skating cap. Shook her head. Not so good. It would give me away. My friends know that I always wear a flower, fresh or artificial, it's what the fashion editors call my "signature." I'd better go in and get started on my crime-detector plan.