The Lightkeeper's Daughter (17 page)

“What about enemies, Henry?” John asked. “Are there any pending acquisitions or touchy contracts that could be at the root of this?”

“If you mean someone who might kidnap my grandson to force me into a position I’ve refused, then no,” Henry said. “Things are going remarkably well in the office. What about you, John?”

“Me?” John shook his head. “I’m a navy man. I simply carry out my duties day to day.”

Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Could this have been an attempt to kidnap Edward and demand a ransom?”

“I considered that, but it doesn’t explain the attack on Walter. Or Miss Sullivan,” John said.

The sun from the window highlighted the young woman’s slim figure. The dog wasn’t with her but was with Edward as he rested from his ordeal. John needed to protect her as well as his son.

Molly appeared in the doorway. “Sir, Lord Carrington is here.”

“Send him in. Maybe he can make sense of this,” Henry said.

A few moments later, Carrington strode into the room. His smile faded when he glimpsed their somber faces. “Has there been a death?”

Henry pointed to a chair. “Have a seat, Carrington. Someone tried to kidnap my grandson. The dog foiled the attempt.”

Carrington’s jaw dropped, and he sank into the chair. “Who was it?”

“If we knew that, he would already be in jail,” Henry said with an edge to his voice.

“Ransom?” Carrington suggested.

“That’s what we were just discussing. It seems to make the most sense,” John said. He was unable to stop the instinctive roil in his gut when Carrington’s eyes raked over Addie.

“I’m surprised nothing like this has ever happened before,” Carrington said. “The recession has made men desperate, and it’s well-known that you control the wealthy in northern California.”

Clara fanned herself. “What’s next? A holdup on my way to town? You must do something, Henry.”

“I am,” he said sharply. “As I said, I will hire Pinkerton’s. They’re as numerous as the redwoods. You can have one for your own carriage if you like.” Henry sat back in his chair. “What are you doing here, Carrington? I didn’t expect you today.”

“I came to see if Miss Sullivan would care to go for a drive,” Carrington said, turning hopeful eyes toward Addie.

Her cheeks grew pink. “I’m flattered, Mr. Carrington, but I’m sorry to say I must decline. Edward needs me, and I have other work I must attend to.”

Carrington huffed and turned to John. “You surely aren’t going to work Miss Sullivan all the time, young man.”

“Of course not. She’s welcome to take off any afternoon she pleases, and one whole day a week,” John said, glancing at Addie. “Just please clear it with me, Miss Sullivan.”

“You’re very generous,” Addie said, standing. “Thank you for your offer, Lord Carrington, but I’m going to be much too busy for the next few weeks for a social life. I need to devote all my free time to Mrs. Eaton’s wardrobe. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to tend to Edward.”

Was that an appeal in the gaze she sent John’s way? He rose and stepped to the door.

“I’ll go with you,” John said. He followed her out of the room and down the hall, where she stopped before they ascended the staircase. “Running from Carrington?”

She put her hands on her cheeks. “I’m sure he’s a very nice man, but I have no interest in seeing him socially.”

“He’s considered a very good catch,” John said before he could stop himself. He stood close enough to smell her honeysuckle cologne.

Her quick intake of breath told him he’d offended her. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled-for.” He preceded her up the stairs. When he reached the landing, he turned and saw tears in her eyes. “I never thanked you for protecting Edward,” he said.

She grasped his hand. “I already love Edward.”

It was sheer force of will that kept him from showing his emotion. Her fingers tightened on his, and he could feel calluses on her palms before she pulled away and stepped into the schoolroom. She was no soft society princess, but a woman who knew what work was. So very different from Katherine.

S
EVENTEEN

T
HE LATE-AFTERNOON SUN
slanted through the windows and heated the schoolroom enough that Addie raised both windows to get a cross breeze. She was used to being outside more and being cooped up indoors so much made her long to be able to take a walk in the forest.

“Look, Miss Addie, I made an E,” Edward said, holding up his paper. He still clutched the fat pencil. Gideon woofed his approval.

“Very good, Edward,” she said. “You’re doing an excellent job. I’m very proud of you.” She touched his dark hair, so like his father’s. It was soft and silky. Would John’s feel the same?

“Make me three more of them,” she said. She turned at a tap on the door and saw Molly standing there. “Good morning,” Addie said, smiling at the woman.

“I brought a bit of food for you and the lad,” Molly said. She carried in a tray loaded with boiled eggs, cheese, and tea.

“You’re so thoughtful, Molly, thank you.” Addie cleared a spot on the table, and Molly set down the tray. “How long have you worked here? I know so little about this place.”

“Thirty years, miss. I came as a girl of sixteen.”

“Goodness, you’ve been here all your adult life!”

Molly nodded. “That I have, miss. The Eatons have been good to me.”

“You knew the first Mrs. Eaton,” Addie said, deciding to throw out the question.

Molly stilled and took a step toward the door. “I were her personal maid when she married Mr. Eaton.”

“So you knew her better than anyone else in the house,” Addie said. “Who was her friend Inez?”

Molly’s dark eyes looked Addie over. “How are you knowing these things, miss?”

Addie wished she could reveal it all, but did she dare? She’d felt a kindred spirit in Molly, but would the maid be quick to run to Mr. Eaton with the news?

“I found a letter in the desk,” she said finally. “From Inez.”

Molly’s palpable tension eased. “Mrs. Inez Russell. They was best friends.”

“Does Mrs. Russell still live here?” Addie asked, a plan beginning to form.

“That she does. Her husband is the haberdasher, and they live on Ferndale Street. She doesn’t come here no more, but I sometimes see her at the market, and she always says hello.”

“I saw a picture of Laura Eaton. She was lovely.”

“She was, miss. And just as lovely inside. Always laughing and quick to help others. She volunteered at the hospital two days a week, even over Mr. Eaton’s objections.” She put her hand to her mouth. “I’m talking too much.” She started toward the door.

“Please don’t go, Molly. I’m very interested.”

The woman stopped and turned back to Addie. “It don’t matter now. Miss Laura has been dead and gone nearly twenty-three years.”

Addie bit back the confession that bubbled up. “She had a child, didn’t she?”

Molly nodded. “Little Julia. She were the sweetest baby ever borned. Red curls, dimples. Hardly never cried.”

“Did you care for her?”

“Miss Laura hardly let anyone touch that child. No wet nurse, no nanny. She doted on that baby.”

The hollow space in Addie’s chest grew. The dim memory of soft hands and a sweet voice singing a lullaby was all she had. “She sounds quite lovely.”

“Miss Laura didn’t deserve—” Molly bit her lip and turned toward the door.

“Didn’t deserve what, Molly? To die?”

“Don’t say nothing to Mr. Eaton about my big mouth,” Molly said in a low voice. “He’d fire me on the spot for gossiping like this.” She stepped into the hall and pulled the door shut behind her.

What had Molly meant to say? It would have been easy enough to say Laura didn’t deserve to die, but Addie sensed the maid’s words had nothing to do with Laura Eaton’s death. If only she had more letters. Addie had checked every drawer, and all were now empty.

Edward tugged on her sleeve. “Teacher?”

She smiled at the child. “Are you hungry, Edward?”

He shook his head. “I have to go potty.”

“All right. Wash your hands when you’re done, and I’ll fix you a snack.”

He nodded and tugged the heavy door open by himself. Addie studied the desk. She’d heard of such things as hidden drawers. Could this little desk have something like that? She pulled out the chair and seated herself in front of the desk, then opened the cabinet doors to reveal the drawers. No matter how much she pressed and tugged, the top drawers contained nothing but the velvet lining. She took out each one and checked to see that the bottom of the inside matched up with the outside. No hiding spaces here.

The remaining large drawer was what it seemed as well. She pulled it out and examined the bottom. Nothing. Before she put it away, she peered inside the cavity, but it was too dark to see much but the back. She ran her hand into the opening and traced the shape of it with her fingertips. She touched a small slit. She caught her breath and leaned forward to try to see better. If only she had more light. She managed to wedge a fingernail into the crack and tugged. It flexed but didn’t open. She needed a letter opener or something with more leverage. There was nothing useful in the schoolroom, but she’d seen a letter opener in Mr. Eaton’s den.

She heard Edward coming back down the hall, so she quickly slid the drawer back into place and shut the desk doors. It would be hours before she could check this again.

John paused outside the Pinkerton’s branch office on the corner of Ocean Boulevard and Ferndale Street. He’d never hired a detective before, and he wasn’t eager to have to do it now. He squared his shoulders and pulled open the door.

A man stood at a set of filing cabinets. A large desk took up most of the rest of the space in the room. “Good afternoon,” he said. “May I help you?”

“I certainly hope so,” John said, closing the door behind him.

The place smelled of cigars. He put his hands in his pockets. “I need an investigation run on a young woman.”

The man shook his hand. “Nathan Everest,” he said. “Have a seat.” He indicated the wood chair across from the desk.

“John North.” John released Everest’s hand and seated himself on the chair.

“Ah, Mr. Eaton’s son-in-law.” Everest moved to the other side of the desk and sat down. He pulled a sheet of paper to him and picked up a fountain pen. “Let me just get some information. The subject’s name?”

Addie’s face flashed into his mind. Was this the right thing to do? His instincts indicated she’d told him the truth about why she was here, but if he was going to protect her and Edward, he had to know more.

“Sir? The name?”

He collected himself. This would be best for everyone. “Adeline Sullivan. She came from Crescent City. I think her father was the lightkeeper up at Crescent City. It’s called Battery Point. He’s dead now, and her mother took over the station.”

“Any other information on Miss Sullivan? Birth date, any other particulars you are aware of?”

“She’s in her midtwenties, I’d guess. Right now she resides at the Eaton manor.”

“What is it you suspect the young lady to be guilty of?”

“Nothing really,” John said. “I just want to know more about her.”

“Has she committed a crime?”

“Not to my knowledge. Though since her arrival at the manor, Walter Driscoll was attacked, and so was she. Also, someone attempted to kidnap my son this morning.”

Everest’s hand paused with the pen. “Do you need a bodyguard for the family?”

“I think that’s been arranged. How soon do you think you’ll have some information for me?”

“I have a man up that way. I’ll place a call. I should have some preliminary findings in a few hours. Stop by the office in the afternoon and I’ll tell you what I’ve learned. Will that suit?”

“Perfectly.” John rose and shook the man’s hand. “Thank you for your discretion.”

“That’s my middle name. Our business is between us only.” Everest walked him to the door.

Back in the sunshine, John walked on toward Henry’s offices. The transaction had left him feeling slightly unclean, though the man was pleasant and obviously competent. Pinkerton’s reputation was of the highest quality. The franchise employed more investigators and guards than any other agency in the nation—some said they employed more men than the United States Army! With such a network, the agent would be able to dig out any information to be found.

At the Mercy Steamboats office, John ducked inside to ensure Henry had a bodyguard on the scene. Mrs. O’Donnell had the telephone earpiece to the side of her head and waved him past, so he walked down the hall to Henry’s office.

A few feet from the office door, he heard a man say, “You won’t like the consequences if I don’t get my money.”

Henry’s shout carried loudly to John’s ears. “I don’t care what you do. This is not my problem. Now, get out of here.”

“There are scary things that happen in the world, Eaton. Even children can get hurt.”

“What?” Henry’s voice rose. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. Consider yourself warned.”

Moments later, a seedy-looking man in a rumpled jacket nearly bumped into John. The man’s eyes glared from above a nose that appeared to have been broken many times. When he brushed past, John caught a glimpse of a gun under his jacket. He’d seen some shady organized-crime individuals in the city, and his intuition vibrated at the roughness of the man.