Authors: Peggy Ann Craig
Because his arms were full, she helped him slide the heavy door open. “What are ye going to do with him?”
“Make less noise down here, I reckon’.” Moving over to the cot, he dropped the officer onto it then turned and grabbed Ivy’s hand before dragging her out of the cell. Locking the cell once more, he grabbed the lantern in one hand and Ivy in the other and headed for the stairs.
They
raced up the stairwell and down a corridor to an exit, which led to the side of the prison. At a slow crawl, they crept through the shadows of the deserted town, purposely keeping out of sight of any person who may happen to be wandering the streets at that hour.
“Wait here.” He tucked her into a corner and went to fetch his horse. Keeping his eye on the lobby of the station, he quietly jumped up onto its back then rode back to Ivy. Reaching down, he grabbed her upper arm and hoisted her behind him
, then headed away from the jail.
From the satchel, he produced a huge overcoat similar to his own
, but in a smaller size and passed it over his shoulder to Ivy who was trembling slightly from the early morning chill.
“Put this on.”
He felt her moving and acknowledged how wonderful it felt to feel her soft body pressed up against his own. “We best hurry. It won’t be long before they sound the alarm.”
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to pay a visit to an old friend of yours.”
“Sam, I’m not even certain Stella was involved with Mr. Hendrickson’s death.”
As he turned them toward the shoreline of Lake Michigan, he said, “Fair enough. So let’s have it. No more secrets, Ivy. Tell me everything you know.”
“I’m not sure if it’s even connected,” she whispered against his cheek, not wanting her voice to be heard,
but in the process sent a little shiver of delight down his spine.
“Let me be the judge of that.”
“A few weeks before that night, Stella drew me aside. Apparently Mr. Hendrickson had taken his dissatisfaction with me to his mother.”
“His dissatisfaction? You mean because you refused to sleep with him?”
“Aye. You see, the staff falls under Stella’s charge. It was her duty to reprimand my behavior.” She paused. “Which she did.”
“Let me get this straight. You were
reprimanded
for not sleeping with the boss’s son?”
Ivy only nodded
in reply.
“Christ.” He couldn’t control the muttered curse. Even that was far tamer than how he was feeling inside. He had a good mind to reveal those folks for who they truly were.
“I was informed that if I cared to keep me position, I’d heed to all of Mr. Hendrickson’s needs. All of his needs. She then threatened if I left and took me accusations with me, she’d deny all allegations and ensure I’d not find any decent position within the city.”
Sam fisted his hands around the leather reins, the only part of him unable to hold back the rage boiling angrily inside. It shouldn’t be Ivy put on trial, it should have been those low-life scums.
“I couldn’t believe me ears,” she said, then whispered, “I had trusted her.”
As she had Sam. He felt a thousand times worse and knew no matter how long or how hard he tried, convincing her to
trust him was more than impossible.
“So that was why you stayed?”
“Aye.” She nodded. “After I left the Earl’s residence back in Ireland, I spent many years struggling to survive. I got labor in the workhouse in London, but the conditions were dreadfully awful, so I pocketed me pennies until I earned enough to purchase a ticket to America. Life wasn’t much easier for me here, but at least I was safe. Then when I got work at the Hendrickson’s, I truly thought me luck turned for the better. And it had.”
“Until Phillip Hendrickson returned home?”
She nodded. “I was too much of a coward and feared losing me position. The idea of going back out there frightened me. I suppose he must’ve seen me staying as consent, for his sexual endeavors only grew worse. That night, after he attacked me for the last time, I knew I couldn’t live like that anymore. So I ran.” She turned and looked at him over her shoulder. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the incident with Stella. It was too humiliating.”
“I suppose at the
time you had no reason to think she may be involved in the murder.”
“I still don’t. It makes no sense, Sam.”
“We have a dress covered in blood found in her possession. Her daughter lies and frames you for the murder. I’d say that’s pretty damn good reason for you to suspect.”
“Do ye think Becky witnessed the real killer that night?”
“I don’t know. Possibly, but it’s all speculation at this point. That’s why we need to talk with them and discover the truth. Fact is, someone killed that man, even if well deserved. If someone is goin’ swing from a noose for it, we’re going to make damn sure it’s not you.”
Sam followed Ivy’s direction to the Hendrickson’s east end home south of town. He knew they didn’t have much time. The alarm would go up and the first place they would come looking is the one place Sam needed to go.
Following Ivy’s directions, he turned the horse south. They passed the courtyard of the jail house and both fell silent. Just on the opposite side, the gallows for her execution sat and awaited her. No matter what it took, Sam was going to ensure she never made that appointment. He propelled the horse away from the twenty-foot wall and down the street.
A dampness hung in the air from a rainfall the previous day. Puddles lay scattered all over the road. The silence seemed loud as the horse’s hooves walked along the narrow streets. He kept a watchful eye on
their surroundings, his senses on high alert.
They crossed over the Chicago River
, then proceeded to head south. The homes lining that part of the city were huge with elaborate architecture. To their left a large park lay on the shore of Lake Michigan. The first glistening of the morning dawn sparkled on the lake. Servants stirred and began their daily routines.
When she at last pointed to a tall three
-story red brick home, Sam let out a low whistle.
“What did you say this fellow did?”
“Orville Hendrickson is a financier who deals in the stock exchange.”
“So probably has a house full of servants.” He surveyed the home and asked, “How many can I expect to run into?”
“At this time of the morning only a few of the kitchen maids will be up preparing breakfast for the senior staff first. Stella won’t be joining them until later, as well as Mr. Hendrickson’s butler.”
“Will one of those maids include Becky?”
She nodded. “Aye, more than likely she will be in the kitchen cooking. The others will be in the scullery or off to light the fireplaces.”
“Where is the scullery in location to the kitchen?”
“Behind it. Why?”
“I think it a good idea we draw as little attention to our presence as possible.”
“Right.”
“Is there a joining door?”
She nodded. “But the servants’ hall is connected to the kitchen so we got into the habit of keeping it shut because of the strong odors caused by the garlic we hung over the hearth in spring to dry.”
“Perfect.”
Sam led the horse to the back of the house where the entrance to the kitchen was located. Finding a recluse spot, he drew the horse into the shadows and hitched him out of sight. As Ivy slid from the saddle, he reached up and grabbed her around the waist.
Her light blue eyes raised and met his gaze. The urge to kiss her was overwhelming, but he had hurt her terribly. He didn’t know if she would ever allow him close again.
“Let me go in alone,” he told her.
“No way.”
“Ivy, I need to go slow on this. Draw the truth out of Becky. If we frighten her, we may never get the truth.”
“I’m coming.”
He frowned down at her. Distrust still danced in her eyes, but there was something else. Pure obstinance. She needed to confront her accuser. Even if it meant it caused her doom. Hell, he didn’t need her being so proud at that moment. But he could understand it.
Since he knew how effective tying her to a tree
would be, he sighed and said, “Watch yourself. Don’t allow emotion to rule your head. It may get pretty heated.”
“I won’t.”
“All right then,” he took her hand and turned toward the door. “Let’s get this over with.”
Chapter
1
5
Ivy waited behind Sam. Not because she wanted to, but because he kept a hand splayed out across her stomach to prevent her from moving pas
t him.
The warmth
which that hand provided was intoxicating. It felt as if it would pull her in further. It frightened Ivy to realize she wanted to be drawn in. Though she was grateful for Sam’s help now, no matter the outcome, she could never risk getting that close again.
She turned her attention to the window. It glowed yellow indicating the kitchen staff were up and starting their morning routine as predicted. Someone walked by the window and she felt a jolt of excitement.
“That’s Becky.”
“Are you sure?”
Even from that secluded spot and the darkness surrounding the home, she would have recognized the young woman easily. She had a practice of wearing her long blond locks in elaborate chignons on the top of her head rather than the nape as most maids did. Ivy had always thought the look impractical for scrubbing dishes. But it made her long neck and sculptured face more pronounced.
She glanced at Sam. Was he noticing the young woman’s beauty? Would he compare her to Ivy’s very plain and homely
looks? She pushed the thought aside, annoyed with herself for even thinking it. Never before had she ever worried about another woman’s looks over her own.
“Aye.”
He glanced back over his shoulder and their eyes met. “Are you sure you want to do this? I’m certain I’ll manage to get her story out of her on my own.”
This made her frown
, and for some reason thought of them up there in the Canadian wilderness, making love beneath the towering spruce trees. She had handed him her heart that day, and her trust. Would he try and use the same means to get Becky to talk?
Her eyes looked into his deep hazel depths and felt suddenly foolish for even contemplating the
idea. It was her damaged heart causing these heedless thoughts to run wild.
She turned back to the window and watched as Becky scrubbed the cook top in preparation for the morning’s meal. The staff would eat their breakfast first. Shortly, the kitchen maid would no longer be alone and Ivy’s opportunity to confront her would be gone.
“I’m coming.”
He gave her an odd look. A mix between a smile and a frown. Then he crept silently across the stoned courtyard toward the back door. Ivy knew it would be locked, but knew where they always kept the key. While Sam waited in the shadows below the window, she slid her hand under the loose brick in the stairwell and retrieved it.
Without question she handed it to him and watched in awe how swiftly he proceeded. Before she knew it, the kitchen door swung open and they were standing in the dimly lit room. Becky Taylor turned slightly, not seemingly surprised at their intrusion. However frowned when she realized Sam was not one of the staff members.
When her glance shifted to Ivy, her large
brown eyes widened in horror. “Ivy? What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk to ye, Becky.”
The young woman’s hand flew to her chest as if she was suddenly having a heart attack. “Aren’t you supposed to be in prison?”
“We don’t have much time, Ms. Taylor,” Sam interrupted, not allowing Ivy to respond.
The woman’s gaze swung back to him, her horror doubling tenfold. “Who are you?”
“My name is Sam Michalski. I’m a friend of Ivy’s and helping to solve her case.”
Becky’s mouth immediately snapped shut, her eyes darting across the room to the exit. Ivy felt that old familiar feeling of betrayal once more. What had she ever done to Becky?
“I don’t believe Ivy murdered Phillip Hendrickson.”
This time the gaze she jabbed him with was full of anger. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“Yes.”
Ivy glanced at Sam, startled by his blunt and harsh tone of voice. Her fears of him finding Becky more desirable vanished. He was looking at the woman with such loathing she actually feared he might strike her.
“I’m not the one lying! Why would I need to lie?”
“You saw something that night and for whatever reason, are too frightened to come forward with the truth.”
“I told the authorities what I saw.” Her gaze shifted back to Ivy. “I saw Ivy strike Phillip with an iron poker.”
“That’s not true,” Ivy gasped.
Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Phillip?”
She looked at him annoyingly as if he were half-witted. “Yes, the victim! You do remember him, don’t you? Or has she blind-sighted you with her innocent little act too.”
Ivy watched the woman with disbelief. Innocent little act? Where was that coming from? She wanted to speak up and ask
, but Sam was already addressing the maid. “I remember him. I was just surprised at your informal use of his name. Is it not improper for servants to address their employers by their Christian name?”
She looked slightly uncomfortable. “Well, yes, in
their presence absolutely. But we refer to them by first name down here in the kitchen all the time. Isn’t that right, Ivy?”
Ivy frowned and shook her head. “I’ve always referred to him as Mr. Hendrickson. As did yer mother.” Though she had thought it odd Becky had often referred to their employer’s son by his first name.
She gave Ivy a peeved expression before exhaling her breath loudly and declaring, “Well Phillip and I had a more relaxed relationship. It was not necessary for me to address him formally.”
“And this was with his approval?” Sam asked.
“Of course.”
“What type of relationship did you have with—Phillip?”
“Like I said. It was very informal. We got along splendidly. I was very shattered by his death.” She brought a hand up to cover her mouth as if she were trying to suppress tears. “I’ll never forgive you Ivy for what you did.”
“I didn’t kill him.” She felt panic begin to stir in her gut. “I don’t know what ye saw, but ye were mistaken.”
Sam ignored Ivy’s outburst and continued. “It was my understanding Mr. Hendrickson was very, er,
attached
to his staff. Particularly the female staff.”
“What are you implying? That he made advances to other members of the staff? That’s simply not true.”
“What do you mean by
others
?” Sam asked. Ivy hadn’t caught that, but swung her head toward the woman who always felt like a younger sister.
She looked appropriately confounded and twined her hands together. “Well you said Phill—Mr. Hendrickson made unwanted advances toward Ivy. I assumed you were asking if I was aware he was making other unwanted advances.”
“Ms. Taylor, I never said that.”
Ivy could have hugged him. Something inside actually erupted to life and she even felt herself standing taller.
“She was accused of having an affair with him.” The woman snapped.
Sam shook his head. “Then that would have been with her consent.”
Becky’s eyes began to look irritated as she shot a look between the two of them. “What exactly are you trying to get at, Mr. Michalski? You’ve completely lost me.”
“I apologize, Ms. Taylor,” he said, sounding sincere even if his expression did not. “Let me rephrase the question. Were you aware of Phillip Hendrickson’s illicit activity?”
“Of course not!”
“And yet, you seemed
to be under the belief he made improper advances to Ms. McGregor.”
To Ivy’s surprise, the woman’s eyes
turned red with rage as she spun around and scowled at Ivy. “That was because she always flaunted herself at him, teasing him. Phillip always wanted what he couldn’t have.”
“That’s not true!”
Becky continued, ignoring Ivy’s protest. “She pretended to be so sweet, so innocent, but I knew differently. She had manipulated Phillip the same way she is manipulating you, Mr. Michalski.”
“No
!” Ivy’s gaze flew back to Sam’s face, horribly afraid to see doubt in his eyes. He had already once questioned her innocence, would he again? To her relief the only thing she recognized in his expression was a look of cold hard determination as he kept his steely gaze on Becky.
“Did you have sexual relations with Phillip Hendrickson?”
Color flooded the woman’s cheeks. “That’s none of your business!”
“I take it that is a yes.”
“I think it’s time you left.”
“Was it with or without your consent?”
Her jaw clenched as she glared at him. “Phillip loved me!”
Her outburst threw the kitchen into silence. Ivy blinked, staring with disbelief at the woman. She had been unaware of the girl’s affections toward Phillip Hendrickson. True, she had seemed particularly friendly with him, but Ivy had simply related
it to the woman’s bubbly personality.
“And you loved him,” Sam stated rather than asked.
She glowered, shooting fiery darts toward Ivy. The answer was clear in her eyes. Ivy’s mind reeled.
“Who really killed Phillip Hendrickson, Ms. Taylor?”
“You’ve said enough, Becky.” All three heads swung around in surprise toward the kitchen entrance. Stella stood inside the door jamb her arms crossed over her breasts; her gaze scanned all three faces before stopping on Ivy. “Hello, Ivy.”
She wanted to say something
, but the unexpected sight of the woman she had befriended and came to trust, left a painful swelling in her throat preventing her from speaking. To her dismay, she found herself forcing back tears.
“Who are you?” Sam asked.
She gave a humorless chuckle as she went to her daughter and laid her hands on her shoulder. “I think I should be the one to rightfully be asking you that question.”
“He’s a friend of Ivy’s!” Becky blurted, her voice beginning to rise with hysteria. “He’s trying to lay the blame for this murder on me.”
Sam frowned, his eyes narrowing as he studied the young woman. “I came here to ask you some questions. I believe you know who the real killer is and are protecting that person.”
Stella’s attention moved back to Ivy. “How did you get out of prison?” Then her eyes shifted back to Sam and she said, “No matter. I guess I already know.”
“They’re going to hang me tomorrow, Stella,” Ivy whispered, finally able to find her voice.
A flash of remorse crossed the woman’s face
briefly before she quickly subdued it. “I’m sorry about that, Ivy. Truly.”
The rapid
and crushing arm of betrayal swung out and threatened to drag Ivy down into a deep, dark and lonely abyss. She swiftly looked to Sam. He stood tall and strong, and full of strength. Then he glanced her way and held her gaze. He believed in her. He trusted her.
Remarkably
, she began to feel an ounce of confidence spread forth from within. Since her parent’s death, she had spent her life frightened of death. Something about the event had triggered a fear of it. The finality of her parents’ premature demise, haunted her daily. Perhaps that was the reason why she fought so hard against the Earl. She learned how to do whatever it took to escape death.
After Moira went missing, that fear only intensified. It almost felt as death w
as coming one by one for each of her family members. Ivy had always felt it in the shadows just waiting to pounce and claim her as well.
So she spent all her years running, hiding from the hardships life had thrown her and the people who had delivered them. However, as she stood there staring at Sam, she realized long ago she should have stood up and claimed her life, controlled her own destiny instead of allowing someone to send her to the gallows to protect their own interests.
In one simple look, she realized Sam had taught her something over these past few weeks, she had never discovered in the twenty years since her parents death. It was time she believed in herself.
“Why did ye do it?”
“Pardon?” Stella frowned as her attention lifted from her daughter.
“Did ye kill Mr. Hendrickson?”
She gave a sharp chuckle. “Of course not.”
But Ivy ignored her answer. “Is it you Becky is protecting?”
“Why would I kill him? You were the one who came to me accusing Mr. Hendrickson of improper behavior. The authorities were very interested in hearing that little tidbit.”
“Did ye also tell them you threatened me job if I did not comply?”
Stella had the decency to look uncomfortable, her attention sliding toward Sam standing so powerfully behind Ivy.
Becky leaped to her feet, eyes ablaze. “That’s not true! You conniving little whore. See what type of witch she is?”
This last question was shot at Sam whose sharp expression did not falter. But it was Stella who spoke, ignoring her daughter’s outburst. “If I had, it would have only added to your motive. It would have been too easy for the authorities to believe your union with Mr. Hendrickson had turned sour. That perhaps you had a change of heart and wanted revenge. At whatever the cost.”