Heart of Lies (17 page)

Maddie stared at the floating palace. Reflection from the lights on board danced on the surface of the water. Music drifted out into the night. Huge crystal chandeliers hung in the grand central rooms on both decks.

“Expensive jail,” she mumbled, recalling the money Abbott had given Hammond Cutter. How much was he carrying?

“My papa would never take us on a steamboat. He says if the engines don’t explode, then they are just as likely to run into things in the river. Why, my papa would just have a fit if he knew you were taking me aboard a steamboat. He says they aren’t worth the time it takes to make them. The construction is terrible.”

Maddie sighed. Tom turned to her. “How old
is
this child?”

“I’m almost nine.” Penelope smiled.

“More like twenty-nine,” he mumbled.

Maddie couldn’t agree more but she wasn’t about to let him know it.

T
hey boarded the
Memphis Palace,
and Maddie couldn’t help but stare as they climbed the stairs to their rooms. The ship’s opulence was something out of another world.

She and Penelope were to share a small stateroom. Tom’s cabin was right next door. He warned her he had asked the captain to inform the crew that Penelope made a habit of running off and that Maddie was in his custody. No matter what either of them said or did, they would not be allowed to leave without him when they docked.

Penelope went into their room first. Maddie stopped just outside the door.

“What makes you think I’d try to run?” she asked Tom.

“For one thing, you’re headed for jail, and I’m thinking that two-thousand-dollar reward is so tempting. You’d risk taking the girl home to collect.”

Penelope was her pot of gold. Maddie wasn’t going anywhere without her. They both knew it.

He left them alone in their room, and as soon as the door closed, Penelope wilted. She dropped her bundle on the nearest of the two narrow beds and sat beside it. Her eyes were huge, innocent, and full of bewilderment.

“Is he really taking me home, Madeline?”

For the first time she looked and sounded eight years old and very fragile.

Maddie set her own things on the opposite bed. She hesitated a moment before she sat down beside Penelope, tempted to put her arm around the little girl’s sagging shoulders.

“He’s really taking you home,” she said softly. “He’s taking me to jail.”

“What about those bad men? The ones who kidnapped me. Won’t they be mad?”

Maddie wanted to deny that the twins were bad men, but couldn’t. She was no better. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

Penelope flopped back on the bed. “I sure hope seeing me doesn’t upset Mama.”

“She misses you terribly.”

“How can you be sure?” Penelope looked as if she wanted desperately to believe it.

Maddie swallowed hard and hid sudden tears. “I bet all she really wants right now is to hug you and feel you in her arms again.”

Penelope looked doubtful. “Maybe so. She sure misses that baby, and we hadn’t even gotten used to having him around.” She sighed heavily and peered up at Maddie through her lashes. “I heard Papa tell Nanny that it would be better for Mama if I wasn’t underfoot.”

Maddie was certain Mr. Perkins regretted ever speaking those words.

“Is that why you didn’t try to get home? Because you thought your papa wanted you in Paducah?”

“Yes.” Penelope stared at the ceiling and hummed for a minute, thinking. Then she sat up.

“Your father wants you home, believe me.”

“Have you seen him?”

“No.”

“You sure that Mr. Abbott isn’t your friend?”

“Definitely not.”

Penelope persisted. “Are you sweet on him?”

“Heavens, no.” Maddie shook her head.

“I think you are.”

“You think wrong.” She frowned. She couldn’t resist asking, “What makes you say so?”

Penelope shrugged. “You look at him like you’re mad at him, but not really. Not deep down. Like when he dragged us onto this boat. You acted like you didn’t want to be here with him, but I can tell you do. You watch him when you think he’s not looking.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“What if we got away? You could take me to Paducah, to my real aunt’s place, and then you wouldn’t have to go to jail.”

“I think it’s time you got some sleep.” Maddie didn’t dare tell the girl that all she’d been thinking about was escaping Abbott.

Penelope sighed. “I’m pretty tired. Acting sure takes it out of you.”

Despite the fact that all of her plans had gone awry, Maddie found herself smiling. “Does it?”

“Yes. You have to project. That means you have to shout at the top of your lungs. At least that’s what Mr. Cutter says. He thinks I have a bright future on the stage.” She drooped again. “At least I did.”

“Maybe you should tell your parents how much you like performing.”

“Oh, I don’t think they’d be too happy to hear that I want to be a world-famous actress like Arabella the Magnificent.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, for one thing, I heard Mama tell Papa that she knew all about his penchant for actresses, and she wasn’t about to ever let him forget his promise to keep his eyes from wandering the way they had back in New York. There was just something about the way she said
actresses
that made me pretty sure she doesn’t like them.”

Maddie was certain the child had perfectly imitated her mother, right down to the inflection in Mrs. Perkins’s voice when she warned her husband away from actresses.

“You’ll just have to see how they feel about it when you get home.”

“I’ll have to bide my time, you mean?”

“Yes. Bide your time.”

Penelope got up and started to unfold her clothing, and Maddie decided they should both get some sleep. She poured water from a tall pitcher into a washbowl on a stand between their beds while Penelope carefully set her clothes on a bench.

Moistening a washrag, Maddie walked over to Penelope. The child raised her face so that Maddie could gently wash off the stage makeup. Then she took the diamond comb out of Penelope’s hair and set it carefully on the washstand.

“Let’s not forget this tomorrow.” She didn’t mention Tom Abbott had found its mate.

When Maddie moved her own clothes, she found the red hooded cape rolled inside the bundle and handed it to Penelope.

“My cape! I love this cape.” The child hugged it close. Then she looked at the garment and frowned. “How did you get this? I gave it to a little girl named Betty days and days ago.”

“Believe it or not, I ran across Betty in the bayou. She was wearing it and I thought she was you.”

“So
that’s
how you found me.”

“She confessed she snuck you into her grandfather’s wagon.” Maddie washed off her own face, took her hairbrush out of her saddlebag, and remembered that Tom had her skinning knife. Her anger flared as she brushed out her hair and plaited it into one long, thick braid.

Penelope insisted on chattering.

“When the old man’s wagon stopped in a place called Parkville, I slipped out and started walking. I found a shortcut around the back of town and no one saw me. A little ways up the road I saw Mr. Cutter’s camp, and when I read those advertisements on the sides of his wagons, I asked him for a job. He told me to audition. I had to read a piece of a play off a scrap of paper and act it out. It
was the most fun I ever had in my life. He gave me the job right on the spot.”

“He didn’t ask about your family?”

She hung her head. “I told him I was an orphan trying to get to my aunt’s on my own. I said, ‘If you’re headed to Kentucky, then count me in.’ “

“What did he say?”

She looked up again, all smiles, hooked her thumbs under her arms, and puffed out her chest the way Maddie had seen Cutter do at the hotel. “He said, ‘Why little lady, if you’ll perform all the way to Kentucky, then that’s where we’re headed.’”

Maddie found herself laughing for the first time in a long while, but her humor was short-lived. “You’d best get out of your clothes and climb into bed,” she said.

“At least all my clothes are clean,” Penelope said, stripping down to her shift before she slipped under the covers. The fall night air held an unaccustomed chill.

“Arabella made one of the stage hands wash my dress. She said I smelled like a rancid old sheep.”

Maddie figured she’d spent most of her own childhood smelling like a rancid old sheep.

“I hated her,” Penelope said. “As far as I’m concerned, she’s
not
Arabella the Magnificent. She’s Arabella the Awful.”

“It’s time for bed,” Maddie said.

“I have to say my prayers first.” Penelope knelt down beside her bunk, folded her hands, and closed her eyes. “God bless Mama and Papa and my baby brother who’s with the angels now. Please keep us safe here on this riverboat so we don’t blow up in the night. Amen.”

“Do you pray every night?” Maddie helped her fold back the bedspread and pull down the sheet.

Penelope paused and looked at her. “Don’t you?”

“Not really.”

“Why not? Mama says God will always take care of me. That’s
why I wasn’t scared to head for Kentucky all by myself. I have a garden angel too.”

“A what?”

“A garden angel to protect me everywhere I go. You have one too. Everybody does.”

Maddie was certain God couldn’t spare any angels to watch over the likes of her.

As soon as Penelope was asleep, she planned on locking the child in the cabin and wandering around on her own. It would do no harm to explore. To be ready for tomorrow. Escape hinged on being prepared for unexpected opportunity.

Tom Abbott might think he had the upper hand, but she had never been one to give up. He was going to discover that the hard way.

“Maddie?”

“Yes, Penelope?”

“Will you tuck me in and tell me a story?”

Maddie’s back was to the child’s cot. Her knees nearly buckled when she heard the words that were seared on her heart.

“Mama, will you tell me a story?”

She closed her eyes, clutched her hands, and fought to collect herself. It seemed only yesterday her son, Rene, had asked the same thing of her.

She owed Penelope’s mother this one little thing for all the suffering the woman endured. It was something she would have wanted if the situation were reversed.

Folding away the hurt, she took a deep breath and lowered herself to the side of the bed. Tucking the covers around Penelope, Maddie smoothed them gently and managed a slight smile.

“Once upon a time,” she began, “there was a well-spoken man with long, curly white hair who dreamed of collecting a tribe of children.”

P
enelope was sound asleep when Maddie slipped out of the cabin. With a child so close, the walls were closing in on her.
Anything would be better than to be closeted with memories — even facing the wrath of Tom Abbott.

Lamps lined the decks below, casting the world outside her cabin door in a golden glow. Sounds from the gambling hall on the first deck—the tinkle of glass, the lively music of a bass and fiddle player—were offset by the peaceful lull of the river as the steamboat slowly floated downstream. The sound of mingled voices drifted up to her from the salons below, the words indistinguishable. She had noted the ladies and gents dressed in their finest on the way in. She saw them staring at her black skirt and white blouse — a servant’s clothing — and at Abbott’s worn clothes and Penelope’s absurd costume. She’d raised her chin a notch and stared back. Dared them to whisper among themselves.

She knew who she was, what she was. What she didn’t know was where she was going.

Walking to the rail, she leaned against it and watched the water slide past. If only she was on the bayou. If only she could go back to the night the twins had kidnapped Penelope. If only she had taken the girl home immediately she wouldn’t be headed to jail.

Too late now. Too late. Life flowed on like the river, never stopping, never turning back.

A sound behind her caused her to freeze. She turned slowly and watched Tom Abbott step out of the alcove in front of his cabin door.

“You’ve been watching me.” She hadn’t heard the door open and close. He had been there all time.

“You’re unpredictable, Madeline, but I’m fairly certain I know what you’re thinking right now.”

He walked up to the rail beside her. Stood so close their shoulders touched. Like her, he stared down into the water. She studied his profile, his strong jaw, his furrowed brow.

“And what’s that?”

“Run.”

“Penelope is asleep,” she said, unwilling to agree.

“And you?” He turned to face her, making her even more aware of how close he was. “Why aren’t you asleep? Nightmares again?”

She shook her head. “She snores.”

The truth was she could not sleep with her mind sorting ways to escape and Penelope’s presence stirring up long-buried memories.

“What about you?” She tried to turn the conversation. It was too much to hope that he’d go inside and leave her in peace.

“I have nightmares of my own,” he said.

“You?”

“Having a child around brings them back.”

Maddie frowned. Was he making fun of her? Using her story to hurt her?

“What do you mean?”

“I was involved with another kidnapping once. A wealthy man’s child, much like Penelope, only a bit younger. A boy. The kidnappers panicked. The child died needlessly.”

She could see his pain as he studied her in the glow of the lamplight. They were standing too close. She was vulnerable to his nearness and knew she should go inside, but she couldn’t move.

“You know since the moment I laid eyes on you, you’ve been a mystery to me. Who are you, Maddie Grande?”

“I’m not a kidnapper.” She didn’t like the speculative way he was looking at her. “I’m not that woman you are looking for either.”

“You expect me to believe anything you say now?”

She had no notion how to walk away. His eyes were deep, dark, and open, drawing her in. Just now he looked as if his mind was filled with confusion as great as her own.

Was there one drop of goodness in him? Would he believe her if she told him she’d always meant to let Penelope go?