Pearl spent about an hour learning everything she could about the stove. Finally, Mr. Warner had to ask her to leave so they could finalize setting up the room for the next day.
Pearl wasn’t competing in the first day of competitions. She had been selected to compete on Saturday. However, Zeke was secretly pleased that he saw her enter and take a seat to watch the competition.
Pearl always said she could learn more by seeing and doing than reading. Halfway through the day he saw Marianne join her. The two were whispering frantically about something.
It provided the perfect opportunity for Zeke to go over and talk to both women.
He slid into the chair next to Pearl and greeted them both. Marianne made small talk and after a short time complained of the heat and needed to leave.
The room was scorching. After all, there were ten stoves cooking at the same time.
“I’ve not seen you,” he said softly.
Pearl looked at him. She was wearing the same soft lilac dress as the day before and it made her eyes look even more purple. “I’ve been busy preparing for tomorrow.”
He noticed she had a bit of kohl around her eyes and her lips were bright pink. “Are you wearing cosmetics?”
Pearl shrugged. “I needed a change.”
“You never wear cosmetics.”
“Cecilia Williams helped me with my hair and makeup this morning.”
“It doesn’t seem like something you would normally do, Pearl.”
Pearl huffed. “So now you know everything about me?” She flounced in her seat, causing several of the observers behind her to hiss. “Sorry,” she said softly.
Zeke had never seen Pearl so agitated. He wondered what was going on with her. “Have you seen anything unusual?”
“Only Thomas,” she said.
Zeke’s eyebrow went up. “What is he doing here?”
“Said he was sent to keep an eye on me.”
“That makes no sense.”
Pearl turned in her seat. “Well, it appears you aren’t keeping an eye on things. I’m not surprised Mr. Gordon sent someone else.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means your head isn’t on the assignment. Thomas apologized to me for any misunderstanding.”
“Where has my attention been focused? Because I think it has been focused on you, Pearl.”
“Well apparently not if you haven’t seen Thomas here. I’ve seen you and Miss Sissy Williams together. Everywhere. I think that is where your attention has been.”
Zeke looked at Sissy who was cooking at the third station. She spied Zeke and lifted her hand in a wave. When Sissy spied Pearl her smile turned into a frown and she wrinkled her brow. Pearl lifted her hand in greeting and gave a large smile.
Without breaking eye contact, Sissy reached down and grabbed the handle of a pan on the stove. Unfortunately, she had forgotten to place the hot pad on the handle and let out a howl as the hot cast iron seared her skin.
“Oh, my goodness,” Pearl exclaimed.
She watched as Zeke jumped from his seat and ran to Sissy’s station with the medical doctor. The participants watched in horror as the doctor attended to Sissy’s hand.
The injured woman was earnestly crying and holding onto Zeke’s arm with her good hand. Zeke wrapped his arms around Sissy and Pearl could see him whisper to her as the doctor bandaged her hand.
Mrs. Williams ran over and knelt by her daughter, blocking Pearl’s view. Sissy must have said something to her mother because Mrs. Williams turned and glared at Pearl over her shoulder. Pearl wanted to cry that she had no intention of hurting anyone. That she was only being petty when she waved to Sissy. However, there was no one to say it to.
From one of the other stations came a separate cry. It was Martha. “My milk is spoiled. I was going to make my cake and my milk is spoiled.” Mr. Warner walked over to Martha’s station and looked inside her pitcher.
Pearl saw him lift the pitcher to his nose and then push it away. He heaved his back as if he was going to retch. Martha put the container back on the counter. “It wasn’t spoiled this morning,” she exclaimed. “I need fresh milk.”
Mr. Warner signaled to one of the judges to fetch fresh milk. “Who was here this morning?” he asked.
“That light woman was. Came here early to look around. She must have put something in the milk to cause it to sour,” Mrs. Williams exclaimed.
“Light woman?”
Mrs. Williams lifted her finger and pointed to Pearl. “It was her.” The audience gasped and looked at Pearl.
Pearl stood. “I never did. I would never disrupt anyone’s working area.”
“She was in here last night too,” someone called out.
“It’s alright folks,” Mr. Warner put his arms up to calm everyone. “It is just milk. We will get some fresh milk and keep going. Mr. Preston, if you could escort Miss Williams to her room, the doctor can finish his ministrations there. Everyone else, just calm down and we can continue the competition.”
Pearl felt the blood rush to her cheeks as everyone stared at her. Even Zeke glanced her way as he wrapped his arm around Sissy, escorting her from the room. She tried to sit back down, but the voices of the folks around her pounded in her ears. Picking up her notebook she lifted her skirt and ran from the room.
She quickly climbed the stairs to her room; thankful she hadn’t run into anyone. When she reached her room, she slipped the key in the lock and turned. Instead of unlocking the room, she heard the click of the door locking. She turned the key again and pushed open the door.
She remembered locking the door when she left earlier that morning. She entered her room and lay down on the bed. She didn’t know why Martha was so upset about a pitcher of sour milk. If it had been her station, she would have simply added a bit more sugar and some cinnamon to the cake. The sour milk would have provided an unexpected tang.
She lifted the watch that was pinned to her dress. The judging wouldn’t happen for at least another two hours. Pearl kicked off her boots and scooted up to the top of the bed. She lifted her notebook, so it was directly over her head and began to read the notes she took.
Inside were Pearl’s recollections from most of the conversations she had since being at the hotel. Most items were where folks were from, favorite recipes and other useless nonsense she learned talking to the contestants. She flipped the page to where she wrote Cecilia “Sissy” Williams at the top. Underneath Pearl had drawn a picture of a canary singing.
Face it, Pearl, she thought. You are dealing with jealously. Plain ugly jealousy. There was no reason to be jealous. The contest would be over in a few days and then Miss Sissy Williams would head back to Oregon and Zeke would go to his next assignment. And Pearl would go back to her life as it was before. Cooking for the Pinkertons and taking care of her father at night.
She closed the notebook and placed it on the bed next to her. Folding her hands over her belly she closed her eyes. Maybe Sissy would even get a husband before she went home. Pearl just prayed it wasn’t Zeke.
She was just falling to sleep when she heard a knock on the door. She thought she imagined it until she heard it again.
“Give me a second,” she said, sliding her legs over the side of the bed. She padded to the door in her stocking feet and opened it. Zeke was standing there. His hair was a mess as if he had shoved his fingers through it too many times. His necktie was skewed, and he had the imprint of a pink kiss on his chin. “You should have washed your face before coming here.”
“What?” Zeke asked. Pearl lifted her finger and touched the side of his chin.
“You left something there.”
Zeke lifted his hand and rubbed his chin. When he looked at his fingers he grimaced. “She simply kissed my cheek after the doctor tended her hand.”
“How’s her hand?” Pearl asked leaning against the door.
“It is going to be blistered. She won’t finish her meal.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“What were you thinking, Pearl?”
“I was waving to her. How did I know that she was going to grab a hot skillet?”
“I meant about the milk.”
“What?” Pearl was shocked. “You actually think I would purposely spoil someone’s milk?”
“Mrs. Williams says she saw you with the pitchers this morning.”
“Yes, she did. I was filling them from a master jug.”
“Why did you do that?” Zeke asked, his deep eyes probing.
“You are accusing me, aren’t you?” Pearl shoved the door open and walked back in the hotel room. “I am not one of your suspects, Zeke. You know me better than that.”
“I thought I did. But you seem to be obsessed about this contest.” Zeke stepped inside and closed the door.
“You shouldn’t be in here with me. It isn’t proper.”
Zeke moved closer to her. “Don’t change the subject, Pearl.”
“I don’t want to be labelled as a loose woman in addition to everything else.”
“You aren’t loose. We have a marriage certificate that states otherwise.”
“It’s a fake marriage certificate.”
“Seemed real to me when I was standing in front of Archie.”
“It is only going to last a few days.”
“That’s alright if it does. It will last long enough to protect your reputation while you are here.” Zeke put his hands up to her chin and used his thumbs to wipe away the stain on her lips.
“So why did you fill the pitchers?”
Pearl couldn’t think when Zeke was holding her face like that. “They were empty. I was asked if I could help them finish setting up.”
“By whom?”
Pearl closed her eyes. “Thomas asked me to help.”
“I talked to Mr. Warner. No one remembers seeing Thomas anywhere around. Was it someone else, Pearl?”
Pearl shook her head and opened her eyes again. “No. I swear it was Thomas.”
“Marianne didn’t remember Archie sending anyone over here other than me.”
“But he said….” She paused and lifted a finger to her lip. Zeke gently captured her hand. Pearl’s eyes traced Zeke’s face. His eyes which were normally soft, were hard and calculating. His jaw was set, and she could see the slight tic of the muscle in his cheek. So, this is what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a Pinkerton investigation. It wasn’t a feeling Pearl liked.
“He said what?” Zeke prodded.
“He wanted to show his support. He wanted me to win the contest. To buy that house I always wanted.”
Zeke dropped Pearl’s hand suddenly and backed away. “I can’t believe you would blame another agent for this.”
“But it is true.”
“I’m disappointed in you, Pearl.”
“I don’t understand. I’m telling you the truth.” She felt a tightness building in her chest. Zeke always believed her. “Here,” she said running to her desk. “Take my recipe box.” Zeke looked at her and raised his eyebrow. “I won’t use it. In fact, I will simply bow out of the contest.”
“Why?”
“Because nothing is worth losing what matters more.”
“And what is that, Pearl?”
“Your friendship. Your belief in me.”
Zeke looked at the box she handed him. He flipped open the wooden lid with both of his hands. Inside were papers in Pearl’s handwriting and a small tin. Zeke pulled out the tin. “What’s this?” he asked showing her.
“I don’t know. I’ve not seen it before.” The tin was larger than a medicine tin. It had the letters KCN written on the top.
“Do you know what this is?”
Pearl sat on the bed. “I told you, I’ve never seen it before.”
“KCN stands for potassium cyanide. It is a poison, Pearl. You can add it to milk, and it makes it appear soured. It has a bitter taste and kills within minutes. But you knew that, didn’t you, Pearl?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“I need to go downstairs and make sure that no one tastes any of the food.”
“Oh, my goodness,” Pearl started. “I’ll go with you…”
Zeke put his hand up. “No. You stay here and don’t go anywhere. I need to contact the office and make sure that the contest ceases immediately.”
“But Zeke,” she pleaded.
“Stop it, Pearl. I’ll deal with you shortly.”
Pearl watched as Zeke ran from the room, the small tin in his hand. The thought of someone being deliberately hurt made her want to retch. But it wasn’t as bad as the hurt, disappointment, and anger she saw in Zeke’s eyes as he looked at her.
Chapter 8
It took several hours before Zeke returned to Pearl’s room. It was after midnight, but he needed to see her. He knocked on the door, but she didn’t answer. He knocked once more, even calling her name. Several of the guests opened their doors to see who was causing the noise in the hallway.
Zeke apologized and tried the door handle. The handle clicked and the door swung open, allowing Zeke a glance inside. “Pearl?” he called.
When she didn’t answer, he walked in the room to look around. Her room key was on the dresser and her boots were still at the foot of the bed. That told Zeke she hadn’t gone very far.
He waited a few minutes to see if she would return, but there was no sign of her. Slapping his hand against his pants he closed the door and went to see if anyone in the lobby area had seen her.
It wasn’t as if she would blend into the crowd…her light skin and light hair were bound to give her away. Zeke asked several people if they had seen Pearl. Several remembered seeing her, but they couldn’t remember where or when.
Frustrated, Zeke knew he had to get to the office to report what occurred. Fortunately, he was able to get into the make-shift kitchen before any of the judges tasted anything. All the food was disposed of, much to the disappointment of the participants. Since they couldn’t make sure what food products might have been tainted, there was no choice except to make sure everything was disposed of and to prohibit entry into the cooking area until everything could be properly cleaned and replaced.
This behavior was unlike Pearl. To deliberately use poison to eliminate the competition. He couldn’t rectify the Pearl he knew with this horrific turn of events.
Zeke continue to look for Pearl. The restaurant was closed, but the area to the courtyard was open. Zeke pushed open the door, allowing the cool night air to enter the lobby. He listened to the sound of the water fountain coupled with the nighttime serenade of frogs. He didn’t hear anyone.
“Pearl?” he called. No one responded. He walked through the courtyard down the stone path around the fountain and past the clumps of large bushes. There was no sign of the Pinkerton cook. Women just do not disappear, he thought.
He returned once more to her room to see if she had returned, but there was still no sign of her. Zeke decided to return to his room and sleep for a few hours before he caught a hackney back to the office first thing in the morning. As he returned to his room, he spied the doctor leaving Sissy William’s room. Doc should have been done bandaging her hand hours ago.
The doctor stopped short when he spied Zeke walking down the hall.
“Everything alright, Doc?” Zeke asked. The doctor was young, recently having finished medical school.
“Yes. Miss Williams is resting.”
“How’s her hand.”
“I’ll check on her tomorrow and rewrap it. She’ll have scars but her hand should heal completely.”
“That’s good. Did she say what happened?”
The doc shook his head. “Just that she thought she saw something and reached for the pan without thinking.”
“So, she doesn’t blame anyone?”
“Just herself.”
“How’s her mother?”
“I needed to give her something to sleep. That woman is wound tighter than a carnival toy.”
“I should probably call it a night too. Have a long day tomorrow.”
“Are they continuing with the contest?”
“No. I don’t think they want the negative publicity. I do think that they are going to refund all the entry fees.”
“Good. Good,” the doctor said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night.”
“Good night.” Zeke headed towards his room at the end of the hall. Thinking about the tin in Pearl’s room he realized that the doc might be able to answer his question. Zeke raced down the hall and caught the doctor just as he reached the first floor. “Hey doc!” Zeke called.
The doctor stopped and waited for Zeke to catch up. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, you can. Where would someone find potassium cyanide, and what is it normally used for?”
The doctor scratched his head. “You are the second person to ask me that. May I ask why?”
“Just checking out something.”
The doctor shifted his bag to his other hand. “Normally it is used in the metal industry. Like mining gold and silver. Sometimes it can be used in crafting jewelry.”
“Jewelry?”
The doctor nodded. “It is used as a buffing compound.”
“If someone wanted to obtain this, how could they do that?”
“Well. Most assayer’s offices carry it in small amounts. Sometimes gunsmiths carry it as well.”
“Thanks for your help, Doc.” Zeke made to leave, but quickly turned around. “One more question…?” The doctor turned on the bottom step. “You mentioned someone else had asked you that question. Was it a woman, perchance?”
“No. A man asked me about it yesterday.”
“A man? What did he look like?”
The doctor shrugged. “He was young. Brown hair about to his shoulders. A little stocky. Nothing remarkable about him.”
“Thanks, Doc. I appreciate it.” Zeke climbed the steps back to his room. Maybe Pearl was telling the truth. The doctor verified a man had made inquiries about the compound. He just wished he knew where she was.
Zeke arranged for a hackney back to the Pinkerton Office first thing in the morning. The forty-minute carriage ride back to the office gave Zeke a bit of time to think about what occurred in the past two days.
An Agent for Pearl Page 6