A Deep Divide

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  “But she admitted to what she planned to do.”

  “Yes, she did. But she didn’t have to tell us that, now, did she? And she didn’t actually do it.”

  Ruth stood and put her hands on her hips. It was her turn to pace. “This is a situation I wasn’t expecting. And while it’s indeed serious, I know we have much larger problems to worry about at the time.” She shook her head. “Is it awful that I feel a measure of relief at least knowing where the notes came from?”

  “Not at all. I feel the same.” Emma Grace pulled her knees up to her chest.

  “If I tell Mr. Owens, he’ll want to fire her. With everything else that’s going on, maybe I can simply tell him that I’ve handled the problem. That should be enough for him right now.”

  20

  Ray asked me to give this to you.” Ruth grinned as she handed Emma Grace an envelope. Last night before bed the two of them had gotten on their knees and prayed for Caroline, her brother, and the rest of the girls. It had refreshed Emma Grace in a way she wouldn’t have expected. And she actually slept through the night after that.

  “Hurry up and open it, I’ve got to get back up to the dining room, but I wanted to give this to you right away. Thought you might need the pick-me-up.”

  Her heart did a little flip. It was Valentine’s Day, after all. But they were in the middle of the biggest crisis of her life. She hadn’t expected anything from him and didn’t even think they were much more than friends . . . although she’d dared to hope that there was the possibility of a future together.

  She tucked her bottom lip under her teeth and ripped open the envelope.

  A lace-trimmed heart was on the front of the card. Simple and sweet. When she opened it up, she read the words aloud: “‘A valentine to the prettiest and sweetest lady I know. Love, Ray.’”

  “He’s a good man, Emma Grace.”

  “Yes, he is.” She stood the card up on her nightstand. “I just wish things were different.”

  “This will all be over soon. At least I pray it will be.” Ruth came over and gripped her shoulders. “Just remember that we are a family now. We’re going to protect you.”

  If only Emma Grace could believe that were possible. She’d come to the realization last night that God could very well take her home to heaven. And she’d be all right with that. She just didn’t want anyone else hurt in the process.

  The last few years all she’d done was run and be afraid. But the fear of death was now gone. Not that she wanted to die, but she would gladly lay down her life for her friends if that’s what it took. She’d come to care a great deal for the people here.

  “I’ll do my best to come back down and visit you whenever I can,” Ruth promised. “But you know how it goes . . . there may not be a lull for quite a while. I’ll bring food at some—”

  “Miss Anniston!” The voice carried down the hall and was accompanied by quick footsteps. Now that they knew who had written the notes, they’d felt comfortable leaving Emma Grace’s door open so she could at least have company from the girls between shifts.

  Sally appeared at the door and put a hand to her stomach. “Sorry to run in the hallway, but Mr. Owens said to fetch you and quick.”

  “What’s going on?” Ruth headed for the door.

  “I don’t know, but he was with two men.” Her eyes were wide. “He said to bring Miss Edwards as well.”

  Emma Grace shared a glance with Ruth. What could it mean? Had they caught the thieves? Or Wellington?

  “Well then, let’s not keep them waiting.”

  They headed out the door and down the hall in swift steps. The closer they got to the stairs, the more Emma Grace’s heart pounded. Lord, You know what I’m feeling. And You know what’s happening. Please give me Your peace.

  As they took the stairs up, she forced her breathing to slow. In. Out. She could do this.

  Sally pointed to Mr. Owens’ office. “They’re in there.”

  “Thank you, Sally.” Ruth grabbed Emma Grace’s hand and squeezed. Then they walked in together.

  Two men had their backs to her and were speaking with the manager.

  Mr. Owens saw her and Ruth and waved them in. “Miss Edwards, Miss Anniston. Please come in.”

  As the men turned toward her, she did a double take at the man on the right. Every instinct told her to run.

  No. She’d run for too long.

  She fisted her hands at her sides as she thought about what this man had done and her anger began to build. Everything seemed to come to a standstill as she stared at the man, as if no one dared to breathe. But then she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

  “You!” She lunged for the man. “You’re the one I saw that night! You killed him!” She slapped him as hard as she could across the face.

  The other man grabbed her arms and pulled her back. “Miss McMurray, calm down.”

  The familiar voice stunned her, and she turned. “Mr. Scott?”

  “It’s me, my dear.” He pulled her into an embrace. Then with his arm still around her shoulders, he turned her to face the other man. “You know . . . Mr. Wellington.”

  “Dad, is it truly necessary for you to go back to Williams this morning?” Ray had tried everything, but his father wouldn’t listen. “I’m worried about you.”

  “Son, you’re acting as if I’m unwell.” Dad put his hat on his head. “I’m perfectly capable of running my own business and knowing when I need to go where.”

  That was something that Ray had begun to question, but he couldn’t say that to his father. “Let me at least walk you out to the train.”

  “That would be lovely. Oh, and be sure to tell Henry not to be late.”

  Ray shared a glance with John across the room. They’d decided not to correct his father, but had that been the right decision?

  “Let’s be on the way then. I need to stop by the manager’s office on the way out.”

  He followed his dad down the stairs, praying as he went. Something was very wrong. But he couldn’t put his finger on it or decide how to deal with it.

  As they came to the rotunda, they heard loud voices coming from the manager’s office. Was that Emma Grace?

  Her voice pulled him toward the open door.

  A man held his hands up in front of him. Emma Grace’s cheeks were pink, and an older gentleman had an arm around her shoulders. Holding her back?

  The man with his hands up was talking. “I assure you, Miss McMurray, I did not kill your father. And I don’t wish you any harm either. As soon as Mr. Scott came to see me, I knew I needed to come out and clear this up in person.”

  “McMurray.” His father’s hushed whisper behind him sounded . . . shocked. Ray had forgotten all about his father.

  The man holding Emma Grace nodded. “I can attest to Mr. Wellington’s testimony. I wouldn’t have allowed him to come all the way out here otherwise.”

  Ray watched her. She seemed to relax a bit and shook her head. “So, you haven’t been looking for me? You didn’t send Mr. Samson to find me?”

  Wellington shoved his hands in his pockets. “I was looking for you, and yes, I hired Mr. Samson because he has a reputation for being the best and no one else could find you. But I knew several of the other men who contracted with your father. They were a bit . . . shall we say, unsavory. After I left your home that evening, I knew your father had gotten in over his head. He himself had said as much. And he was meeting with someone else that night. I don’t know who, but a car drove up as I was leaving. When I heard that your father was found the next day, I knew I had to do everything in my power to find you because you were likely in danger. There were men who would do anything for your father’s money. And a lot of unsavory characters were already looking for you. That’s why I told Mr. Samson here that I wanted you found alive. Funny how I had to make that stipulation with the others I hired. And if one of the others tracked you down before I did? Well, to put it delicately, I didn’t want you to have the same fate as your father.”
<
br />   Ray stepped forward. “Are you here to force Miss Edwards—excuse me, Miss McMurray—into marrying you?”

  All eyes turned to him. But he could only stare at her.

  The look she gave him made him feel like the only one in the room. No matter what happened, he would cherish the connection.

  Wellington shook his head. “Not at all.” He looked at Emma Grace. “My intentions from the beginning—well, as soon as your father told me that you weren’t agreeable to the marriage and then after his untimely death—were to negotiate with Miss McMurray to allow me to buy out her father’s holdings. I have no wish to force marriage on her, no matter what her father put in the contract. I know there are others who would, especially since there’s so much at stake. That is why I was so intent on finding her. I came to offer her a fair price on the McMurray holdings and to help clear up the debts with the other men. If she is willing to sell to me, I will gladly offer to refund those contracts plus interest.”

  Relief filled Ray, and he glanced at Emma Grace again. Her brow relaxed. He turned to say something to his father, but Dad was gone. Hopefully he hadn’t headed to the train station without John. Ray hadn’t even asked him when he would be back.

  The discussion in the manager’s office continued as he looked around the rotunda and took a glimpse into the Rendezvous Room. His father wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Oh well, he’d find him later. Right now, he wanted to focus on Emma Grace.

  They’d moved to the private dining room, and Emma Grace had listened to Mr. Scott and Mr. Wellington explain in detail everything that they knew. Mr. Samson stood in the corner with his arms folded across his chest, clearly hesitant to be convinced.

  For two hours, her mind reeled with all the information thrown at her. Apparently, her disappearance had created quite a legal battle. That hadn’t been her intention. But she also hadn’t known that her father would be . . . gone.

  Oh, Lord. Did I cause all this by the anger and rebellion of my youth? Is it my fault that my father was killed? She couldn’t bear the thought. No matter how awful her father had become, she’d never wanted him to die.

  As Mr. Owens poured himself another cup of coffee, the room quieted.

  She took advantage of the lull in the conversation and stood. All the men came to their feet as well.

  “Would it be all right with everyone if I returned to work this afternoon?” Her fingers steepled on the table in front of her.

  The expressions that met her were all serious. Concerned. Shocked.

  Ruth stood and came over to her. “I would think that you would want to rest after—”

  “No. I’ve had too much time on my hands the past few days. And frankly, this is all overwhelming. I’d like to have a sense of normalcy, if that’s all right with you.” She looked her friend in the eye. “Please. I’m fine. I promise.”

  Ruth looked at Mr. Owens. “It’s fine with me, if you are in agreement. I need to get back to the dining room. Blanche is sure to have her hands full.”

  “Of course. Whatever Miss . . . whatever Emma Grace desires.”

  “Then, if you all would excuse me, I’d like to go change.”

  Ray stepped toward her and followed her out. “Could we take a walk this evening?”

  “I’d love to.”

  The next morning, Ray hurried down the stairs to the dining room.

  The tension of the day before had worn them all out. As much as he’d loved being able to spend time with Emma Grace on their walk, their conversation had been awkward and strained.

  He couldn’t blame her. Her life had been turned upside down for so long. Now, she faced some life-altering decisions. Would she sell to Wellington and put it all behind her? But today was a new day, and he was eager to see her again. Prayerfully, she’d had a good night’s sleep.

  The host showed him to his table, and he watched the room fill up. The waitresses moved in rhythm around the room, but he didn’t see Emma Grace.

  He checked his watch.

  Odd. She was normally up here long before the guests came in. Perhaps Miss Anniston had sent her on an errand.

  But the next moment, the head waitress made a beeline for him. “Have you seen Miss Edwards?” Her voice cracked.

  He stood. “No. I was hoping that you had.”

  Miss Anniston put a hand to her forehead. “I missed so much of the day yesterday that I came in early to catch up. Her room was still dark when I left. I just sent Sally to check on her, and she’s not there.”

  His heart thrummed in his ears. “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “Last night. We said good-night, and I made sure the outer doors were locked.” The woman began to pace. “I should have checked on her this morning.”

  “May I have your key? I’ll go check for myself.” Ray couldn’t believe she was gone.

  “Since these are extenuating circumstances, I would appreciate that.” She handed him the key. “Maybe she was in the restroom when Sally went down. Perhaps she’s not feeling well.”

  “I’m praying you’re correct.” He made a dash for the stairs. But the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach couldn’t be ignored and, he lifted up his heart’s groaning to the Lord.

  After checking the rooms downstairs and knocking on every door in the basement, his fear became very real. Emma Grace wasn’t anywhere to be found. None of the other ladies had seen her. Ray went to Mr. Owens’ office and told him that she was missing. Owens got on the phone immediately with the police and Ray left to let Miss Anniston know. They’d need to put a search party together. Again. His thoughts raced.

  Wellington.

  He ran back to the front desk and demanded the gentleman’s room number. Then he took the stairs two at a time up to the third floor. He banged on the door. “Open up, Wellington.”

  The door swung open. “Is something wrong, Mr. Watkins?” He dried his hands on a towel.

  Ray reached for the collar of the man’s shirt. “Where is she?”

  “Where is who?” The stunned expression on Wellington’s face gave Ray a moment of pause.

  “Emma Grace. Where is she?”

  “She’s missing?” The man’s eyes widened even more.

  “Don’t play dumb with me! Where. Is. She?!” He growled out the words.

  “Mr. Watkins.” Rushing footsteps sounded behind him and Mr. Owens’ voice registered. “I understand you are distraught about Miss Edwards—”

  “This man has her. I know it!” He shoved him up against the door.

  Wellington shook his head. “I told you yesterday that I would never do anything to hurt her. I promise, I don’t know where she is.”

  Ray searched the man’s eyes and the anger began to drain from him. He let go of Wellington. “I’m sorry.” He stepped back and straightened his suit. What had come over him? He’d never intentionally hurt anyone in his life. Never.

  “Perhaps I can help.” Mr. Samson’s voice came from down the hall.

  “Do you know where Miss Edwards is?” Ray shifted his attention to the taller man.

  “No. But I do have some light to shed on the murder of her father.”

  “Miss Edwards—Miss McMurray—is missing. So, unless the death of her father has something to do with that, it’s beside the point.”

  They’d searched all day, and not one clue was found about Emma Grace’s disappearance. Ray’s heart felt like it dwelt in his shoes. Where could she be? Discouragement filled him, and a cloud of sadness had descended upon the entire hotel. Staff members and even guests had joined in the search. By now, everyone had heard the story of the heiress working as a Harvey Girl.

  He unlocked his room and headed to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. As he looked in the mirror, he second-guessed every move he’d made since Emma Grace had confided her secrets to him. Had he missed a clue somewhere? How had he failed to protect her?

  He washed his face and then buried it in a towel. Not one to cry, he felt on the verge of tears. But tha
t wouldn’t help her right now. It wouldn’t help anyone. Instead, he went back over every detail of the day.

  Unfortunately, Mr. Samson’s new information about the murder of Emma Grace’s father had left them empty-handed as to a list of suspects in Emma Grace’s disappearance. Mr. Samson had shared that he wired all his contacts in Boston and heard from the detective on the McMurray case. One of the maids from the McMurray house witnessed another man coming to meet Emma Grace’s father the night he died. She had gone back to her quarters after letting Mr. Wellington out, and Mr. McMurray said he had another appointment. She’d seen the man come into the house, but Mr. McMurray had excused her since it was so late. The woman said she felt confident she could identify him if she saw him again, but when she’d been shown photographs of all the men who held contracts with Mr. McMurray—all the ones who would have a motive—she didn’t identify any of them.

  They were back to square one. Since it didn’t seem as if her father’s murderer had come for Emma Grace, the police and Mr. Owens had begun to believe that the thieves who’d robbed the Hopi House must be behind her disappearance.

  But what would that mean for Emma Grace? Would they eventually kill her? What if they’d already done something horrible?

  The worry ate at his stomach. He prayed for help.

  “Ray!” His door opened and his father sauntered in.

  “Dad! Where have you been?” He threw the towel on the counter.

  “Business in Williams.” He rubbed his hands together and smiled. “But that’s all taken care of now.”

  Ray let out a long breath. He didn’t have time to deal with his father’s issues at the moment.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Miss Edwards is missing.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and placed his elbows on his knees.

  “That’s terrible.” Dad sat down beside him and patted him on the back. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

  The words made Ray look over at his father. He’d never even given her the time of day. Why was he suddenly showing any concern whatsoever?