Whispers from the Past (27 page)

“Cotton-candy-flavored kiss.” I straightened and smiled.

She smiled back—one of her dazzling, movie-starquality smiles. “Thank you.” She waved at the paparazzi and then we turned to make our way into our senior prom.

The evening was about to end, at least officially. The band was playing the last slow dance. Seniors only.

I wasn’t likely to remember much about this night. I smiled when I was supposed to, danced with Gabrielle and Benita, and sometimes talked with classmates when a random guy got brave enough to ask Gabrielle to dance.

Mostly, though, I stood on the sidelines and thought about Susanna.

Yours always
.

My brain wanted to rethink the rest of the words, but I wouldn’t let it. It would disturb me. Make me anxious to start the investigation, to find her.

I had to relax, at least for the next few minutes. It was the final dance of my final high-school prom. I had to focus.

Gabrielle and I walked onto the floor. She looped her arms around my neck while I rested my hands at her waist.

She smiled at me. “Have you had fun?”

“Yes.” It was true, under the circumstances. I’d enjoyed myself about as much as could’ve been expected.

“Have you been thinking about Susanna the whole time?” There was a bite to her voice.

“Some. That hasn’t stopped me from having fun.”

There was a ring of clear space around us. Cameras flashed from the edges of the dance floor. Hell, cameras flashed from mere feet away.

“Do you think she planned to have this discovered on prom night?” Gabrielle whispered, her cotton-candy lips brushing against mine.

I broke the kiss. The cameras were definitely capturing my brooding look now. “I think you should stop talking about Susanna,” I said as I slid a hand up Gabrielle’s spine until I could ease her head against my chest.

“We’ll talk about this later, then.” She snuggled closer.

“Probably not a good idea.”

“But we will.”

The limo dropped both Benita and Jesse off at her house. That surprised me a little, but maybe even Mr. and Mrs. Adams couldn’t resist the excitement of prom night.

When we were alone, Gabrielle scowled at me. “Susanna did this on purpose.”

“Well, yeah. She does everything for
a
purpose, but it wasn’t to screw up our night.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know Susanna.” And she didn’t play stupid-ass games like that.

“You kept her note.”

“Of course, I did.” I frowned at Gabrielle, stunned by the idiocy of the implication—like, on what planet would I have thrown away this note? Gabrielle might be a great actor, but her ability to read normal people was pretty sad.

“What does it say?”

Really? “That’s private. What is wrong with you?”

“You won’t tell me?”

“Not a chance.”

“Mark, she’s jealous. She’s trying to get your attention, and she’s succeeded.” Gabrielle shifted on the seat, away from me. “She’s already affected our special night.”

“She didn’t affect it as much as you are now.”

Gabrielle snorted. “You acted like a statue half the time.”

“This conversation is over.” I looked out the side window.

We didn’t speak for the rest of the trip home.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-T
HREE

A S
UBVERSION OF
J
USTICE

My nephew James arrived Saturday morning. The night had been uneventful. With Josiah and his pitchfork by my side, I was able to catch a few hours of sleep.

When it was time to leave Worthville, only Mr. Worth appeared on horseback.

“Are the Pratts not riding with us?” I asked.

He shrugged. “They will come later.”

It was an easy, pleasant ride to Raleigh—although not as smooth or as fast as by truck. When we crested the ridge on the western side of town, I looked about eagerly, seeking the changes that had occurred since I had been here in 1800. It was larger but not greatly. The buildings had weathered. Gardens had been planted behind homes. Raleigh had become a city trying to grow into its purpose.

We received instructions at the jailhouse that, as the petitioner, I was not to be treated as a prisoner. Perhaps Senator Eton’s influence helped me in this regard. We detoured to a boarding home of decent reputation, whose door had a flimsy lock. Mr. Worth grumbled before making his way toward a tavern near Union Square.

I left in the early afternoon to meet with Senator Eton in his home. I was ushered into his office by the housekeeper, who took her seat on a little bench near the window.

He studied my face. “You have been struck, Mrs. Lewis.”

“Yes, sir.”

He caught the gaze of the housekeeper. “Please have someone fetch Mrs. Eton. We have need of her healing skills.” He turned back to me. “She will be here shortly to tend to you. Now tell me, were you in the Worthville jail when you received this blow?”

“Yes, sir.”

“By whom?”

“Mr. Jethro Pratt.”

“Ah.” The senator’s brow arched into a high peak, even as he picked up his quill and scratched a note on his paper. “Where was the jailer?”

“Mr. Pratt had dismissed him.”

“Indeed.” He wrote more notes. “Please describe the experiences I can use to prove your claim.”

It took two hours to finish our conversation. After I had completed all that I could remember, he laid down his quill, stood, and offered me a hand up. “There is little to fear, Mrs. Lewis,” he said. “As long as your witnesses provide the testimony you have described, the judges are likely to find in your favor.” He frowned at my bruised mouth and made a
tsk
sound with his tongue. “Mr. Pratt should not have touched you, Mrs. Lewis. I do not hold with men striking women.”

“Thank you for your help.” I had to trust in him. There could be no better counsel in all of Raleigh. “And if the court finds in my favor?”

“You will finish your indenture elsewhere. My wife’s sister, Mrs. Cornelia Whitcomb, has already offered to accept your contract, if you are willing.”

I nodded quietly, even as happy relief glowed within me.

Once Mrs. Eton had checked me again, the senator sent me back to my lodging in his carriage.

On Sunday, William Eton arrived early to accompany me to the State House for morning worship. We walked silently until we reached the main square.

I yielded to the temptation to speak of my sister. “Dr. Eton?” I stopped and turned to face him.

“Yes?” His smile was courteous.

“I should like you to know that I shared confidences with Phoebe.”

“Did you?” His gaze sharpened as his smile grew pained. “Then you know how greatly I…”

“Admired her.” I filled in when he couldn’t go on. “She admired you greatly in return.”

“I was sorry to learn of her passing.” He averted his face.

“My sympathies on your loss as well.” I cleared my throat and tried for a brisk tone. “I do thank you for walking with me this morning.”

He offered his arm. We continued until we found William’s family waiting outside the building that served both as church and the location tomorrow for the Court of Pleas and Quarter Sessions.

Senator and Mrs. Eton greeted me and then introduced me to William’s sister, Judith Eton, as well as Mrs. Whitcomb.

The senator smiled at me and murmured, in a voice meant only for my ears, “I have arranged to have your case heard early in the morning, Mrs. Lewis.”

“Thank you.” I gave him a tense smile. Now that the day was almost here, my confidence was wavering. Even though my arguments were solid and my lawyer much admired, I still couldn’t shake the fear of finding myself under Jethro Pratt’s control.

As if my thoughts had conjured him, Mr. Pratt strolled across the square toward the entrance to the State House. Mr. Worth and Jedidiah were with him, as were a tall young woman and an older couple. These people were, no doubt,

Jedidiah’s wife and her parents.

Dorcas was not with them.

Had she been correct? Had he forced her to remain at home?

As if he had heard my questions, Mr. Pratt met my gaze across the expanse of the lawn. He smiled slowly. Confidently. Maliciously.

“Senator, the visitors from Worthville have arrived. Yet my friend, Miss Dorcas Pratt, is not with them.” I spoke with a calm that I was far from feeling.

He gave an elegant shrug. “Perhaps she is too tired to attend church this day.”

“Please, sir, might you ask?”

His smile was tight. “Certainly.” He leisurely approached the family, causing quite a stir with Jedidiah’s in-laws. Their ensuing conversation lasted no more than a couple of minutes.

His return walk came with an indignant stride. “Mrs. Lewis, you are correct. Miss Pratt was left behind.”

Mrs. Eton took her husband’s arm gently. “Did Mr. Pratt give an excuse?”

“His daughter’s health is poor. She is too ill to travel.”

“Uncommonly convenient,” William said with a frown.

“Indeed.” Senator Eton’s face had etched into angry lines.

Without Dorcas, the case would be more difficult—perhaps impossible—to win. Panic threatened to close my throat, but I fought it back. “Can we postpone my case until another session?”

He shook his head. “You would likely be returned to the Pratt household until your petition arose again.”

I gasped and saw my concern reflected in his eyes.

William clapped a hand to his father’s shoulder. “I am a physician. Could I not examine Miss Pratt and determine for myself if she is able to travel?”

“An excellent suggestion.” The senator turned to me. “How long would it take my son to reach Worthville?”

“On a good horse, not much more than an hour.”

“Would he be able to find fresh horses there for the return trip?”

“Of course. I am sure my brother, Mr. Caleb Marsh, could help.”

The Senator frowned. “Will my son be welcomed into the Pratt household? Perhaps his request to examine Miss Pratt will not be allowed.”

I was confident that Jethro’s wife would not wish to see me returned to her home. “I have no doubt that Mrs. Pratt will be receptive to this mission.”

“Papa?” Miss Judith Eton spoke. “Might I accompany William? I would be happy to chaperone.”

The senator nodded. “Another excellent suggestion. A brisk hour’s ride to and from Worthville tomorrow morning.” He smiled at his son. “You shall fetch Miss Pratt to Raleigh, but only if you judge her health to be good.”

William gave a polite bow. “It would be my pleasure.”

The senator nodded at me. “You have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Lewis. Our new plan will work quite well. We shall ask for your case to be heard last tomorrow. There is no need to postpone until the next session. If William and Judith proceed without obstacles, Miss Pratt should be here by afternoon.” His bark of laughter was grim. “By attempting a subversion of justice, Jethro Pratt has made a grave error in judgment. Its repercussions will linger long for him.”

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
-F
OUR

T
HE
N
EXT
U-T
URN

I dedicated my weekend to figuring out what Susanna was doing.

Marissa was waiting at the apartment door when I drove up Saturday morning. I wasn’t leaving until I’d figured out where Susanna had gone and why. Not that I had much doubt.

“Laptop or her room?” Marissa asked.

“Laptop.” I sat at the table and opened the web browser history.

There were hundreds of links. It wouldn’t be hard to tell which were Susanna’s and which were my sister’s, but it was daunting to even know how to begin.

Since it was April twenty-second here, it had to be the same there. But which year did she ask Whisper Falls to take her to? While Susanna knew what year she wanted, I did not.

I needed to relax my brain. Maybe I should figure out exactly
where
she had gone. Before 1805, it could’ve been anywhere. After 1805, Worthville would’ve been destroyed, so that implied Raleigh.

Unless she’d gone someplace farther away.

No, that didn’t seem likely, but I’d have to consider it.