Courting Misfortune

by Regina Jennings

  It was an hour’s work to pack her bags and alert the bellboy that she was vacating. He sent for a wagon to haul her trunks and a driver to take her to the train station. Calista turned her head as they passed the flower shop, knowing that she’d jump out of the buggy at the first sign of Matthew, and that was not what she needed to do.

  With a few hurried instructions from the subdued staff on Graham’s private car, her bags were taken care of. All that was left was to get to her bunk and hide until the morning when they were under way and her eyes no longer bore the marks of heartbreak.

  But it wasn’t to be.

  “I’m glad you decided to come in tonight,” Willow said as she met Calista in the passageway. “It has worried me sick, the way you were treated at the police station.”

  “I’m exhausted. If you’ll show me to my room . . .” Calista kept her eyes down, but it was no use.

  “What’s the matter? Are you crying?” Willow dipped her head to get a better look. “You poor thing. Graham told me what you’ve been through. I’ve been so worried about you. But you’re fine now. By morning light, Joplin will be far behind you. No one can touch you then.”

  More tears threatened as Willow patted Calista on the back, making soothing sounds of comfort.

  It wasn’t the police she feared. It was the fear that she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life, yet she couldn’t go back to correct it. Not without going forward first.

  A throat cleared, and Calista looked up to see Graham standing in the doorway. His mouth was turned down in sympathy. “Is this about that miner friend of yours?”

  “Of course not,” Willow huffed. “He didn’t do anything to hurt her.”

  “I didn’t say he did.” Graham slid his hands into his pockets. “Does he know how you feel?”

  “He knows that I . . . not the extent. He doesn’t know how much.” Calista sniffed, then took the handkerchief Graham offered. “I have to leave for my job. I have no choice. A girl’s life might depend on it.”

  “But after?” Willow asked.

  “You told him you’d come back once it was solved,” Graham added, trying to settle the matter.

  Calista shook her head. “I won’t make any promises when I don’t know what’s ahead. I left him with nothing but a good-bye.”

  Willow bit her lip and looked away in disappointment. Go ahead, Calista wanted to say. Judge me. You can’t make me feel any worse.

  Graham motioned to Willow with a tilt of his head. “She needs rest. It’s been a trying day. Everything will look up in the morning.”

  It was her cue to go. He was giving her an escape. Taking her arm, Willow led her silently to her room and bade her good night, leaving Calista in the little berth alone.

  She was doing the right thing. She knew that, but it had caught her unaware how badly she wanted to do something different.

  CHAPTER

  25

  “Miss York checked out of her room last night.” The clerk fought a yawn, as if his news was of no consequence. “Sorry. I’ve been on duty since last evening.”

  Matthew tapped the counter once by way of reply, then set his sights on the train station. He had nothing new to say, and he wouldn’t pester her for a promise, but he wanted to be there. Mostly, he wanted to be there because she was hurting, and he couldn’t stand to think of her hurting alone. He’d stay at her side as long as she let him . . . maybe until they pried him off the railroad car and it started down the tracks.

  The train’s whistle told him that he wouldn’t be able to offer even that.

  The Joplin depot was crowded with gondola railcars hauling lead and zinc to factories around the country and the world. By the time Matthew got to the right track, the train to Kansas City was already moving. Matthew watched for the very last car, and when he saw the gilt lettering and large viewing windows, he knew it was Buchanan’s car and that it was carrying his love away.

  But not all of his loves.

  Funny how yesterday he’d been given the job of his dreams. Even better, a job he hadn’t dreamed about because before yesterday it hadn’t existed. But today his arms yearned for a pickax and shovel. He could chip a tunnel all the way to Kansas if they’d turn him loose.

  But that wasn’t what God had ordained for him. After all his prayers, all his efforts, God had given him the desire of his heart—to be able to minister to the people surrounding him. This was what he’d been brought to Joplin for, to intercede for folks like his uncle Manuel before their despair and hard living caught up with them. This was the door that had opened. He couldn’t keep standing in front of a locked door, wishing for a key.

  He had an appointment with Reverend Dixon and Oscar Kentworth. He had plans to make, a ministry to commence, people to enlist. Maybe later he’d think about what he wanted to say to Calista. Maybe he’d write her and then miraculously learn where to send her letters. It wasn’t likely, but it was all he had to hold on to.

  Matthew arrived at the church too early and had to wait for Reverend Dixon to arrive. He bought a breakfast of sausage and biscuits to eat while he sat on the church steps, but he’d barely gotten settled when he heard a groundskeeper unlocking the church doors behind him.

  Whoever had unlocked the door hadn’t seen him sitting there. Matthew rose and pulled the door open.

  Although the lights hadn’t been turned on yet, the entryway was lit by the morning sun coming through the windows. His entrance startled the young lady passing through, and then he recognized her and he was the one startled.

  “Mrs. Bowman? What are you doing here?”

  She stifled a cry as she pushed her spectacles up her nose. Her shoes scuffed against the smooth marble floor as she turned and ran toward a door at the end of the hallway.

  “Why are you running?” Matthew called. “You know me.”

  And he knew her. Despite the fact that she wasn’t dressed in the uniform from the Children’s Home, there was no mistaking her. And because of her and Officer Rush, Calista had been arrested and had to flee town.

  Matthew ran after her, stopping only as she slammed an office door in his face. “You owe me some answers.” His voice echoed in the long hallway.

  “Matthew Cook!” Reverend Dixon barked as he entered the building. “What are you doing?”

  “Mrs. Bowman. What’s she doing here?”

  The pastor’s face wrinkled in confusion. “She’s a member of this congregation.”

  “But why was she here overnight?” Matthew looked around. “There are no services going on. There’s no reason for her to be behind a locked door.”

  Reverend Dixon studied him for a long moment. “As you’re going to be working in conjunction with the church, you’ll be expected to abide by the same rules we do, and that includes holding stories in confidence.”

  “What do you know about her? Do you know her contacts?” Matthew asked.

  “I do.”

  “And you trust them?”

  “Absolutely not. That’s why she’s here.”

  It was too early in the morning for such riddles. Matthew frowned. Being demoted back to cokey was looking like the inevitable result of this morning’s work.

  Stepping carefully around him, Reverend Dixon knocked on the door. “Mrs. Bowman, would you mind coming out here and talking with us?”

  The scratching sound was her shoes moving across the floor. “He’s one of them,” she said. “The ones I told you about.”

  Matthew filled his lungs, but Dixon thumped him in the chest to halt his protests. “It’s Matthew Cook. I trust him, and you should too.”

  “He’s with that lady. They’re the reason I can’t go home.”

  The pastor looked up at Matthew. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

  Matthew’s eyes darted away from the pastor’s piercing gaze. If Mrs. Bowman was involved in a kidnapping ring, then she was a danger to Calista. How to explain without exposing Calista?

  “I do. All I can tell you is that b
efore God, Miss York has the courage and integrity of the prophets. She is doing the Lord’s work. If Mrs. Bowman or you can tell me something that shows me I’m wrong, then I’ll submit to your wisdom.”

  Reverend Dixon leaned his head near the door. “Did you hear that? Don’t you think that sounds fair, Lila?”

  “Lila?” Matthew’s eyes stuck open wide. “Lila Seaton?”

  He’d found her? If this was Lila, then Calista’s mission was finished. She hadn’t failed.

  Reverend Dixon spun around. “How do you know that name?”

  “We’re looking for her. Her family is looking for her. They want to know she’s safe.”

  The reverend didn’t budge.

  Matthew raised his voice and spoke to the door. “They’re worried about you, Lila. They’ll be so happy to know where you are.”

  Reverend Dixon started walking forward, crowding Matthew down the hall and away from the door. If he hadn’t been a pastor who was offering to help on this new job, Matthew would have taken offense.

  “You know her family? I have to ask you to leave, Matthew. I’ll talk to Mr. Kentworth, but I’m not sure this arrangement is going to work.”

  “What’s going on?” Matthew had never been so confused. “I’ve never met her parents, but they claim that she was abducted. What does that have to do with me?”

  A bolt clicked, and the door behind Reverend Dixon opened a crack. They both watched as a slight, determined face peered out at them.

  “He already knows I’m here,” Lila Seaton Bowman said. “As long as my plans for escape aren’t compromised . . .”

  “We’ll get you away from Joplin without anyone the wiser.” The preacher held the door open, removing the barrier between her and them. “But maybe it would be best if you explained to Mr. Cook what you’re running away from.”

  Matthew must have passed twenty heartbeats in the time it took her to decide. Finally she nodded and allowed herself to be escorted to the pastor’s office. Mrs. Bowman clasped her shaking hands and took one of the polished chairs.

  The pastor sat in a wingback chair between them. “Let’s start with you, Matthew. What do you intend to do, now that you’ve found Lila?”

  Matthew squirmed on the backless stool. “That depends on her. What does she want to do?”

  “I want to stay in Joplin, but you’ve made that impossible.” She removed her spectacles and set them on the table before her.

  “Me? What did I do?”

  “Miss York, then. She’s going to alert my family to where I am, and my husband and I will have to flee again.”

  “No, no, no.” Matthew waved his hands in front of his face. “That wasn’t what we wanted to do at all. All we wanted was to bring your family back together.”

  “What if that’s the last thing I want?”

  Matthew shot the pastor a nervous look. “Can I ask why?”

  “It’s a fair request, Lila,” said the pastor.

  “My father is a criminal,” she said. “For years he conducted business right under my nose. I didn’t understand most of it, but as I grew older, I began to realize that the things he was telling people to do weren’t legal. When I began questioning him, the trouble started. He wouldn’t let me meet people at parties. He became very selective of who my friends were. It was like living in a fishbowl with a big cat just waiting for me to swim the wrong way.”

  “You’re an adult,” Matthew said. “What power does he have?”

  “You don’t know Chicago. My father says he’s protecting me, but he couldn’t protect my sister from his boss, Baxter Perkins. When she was killed, I knew that sooner or later I would be faced with a choice—either lie to protect the business or become a target of the big bosses. That’s why I can’t go home. I can’t go to the police. Half the police in Chicago report to Baxter.”

  “Like the police in Joplin?”

  Lila’s eyes flashed. “Officer Rush is a fine man. When Miss York asked for me by name, he knew she’d been sent by my family. He had to act. It gave me time to seek sanctuary while my husband Bart gets us packed up. Tomorrow we’ll quit town and go somewhere else, because now that Miss York has found us, we know we aren’t safe here.”

  Matthew traced the wood grain on the tabletop. “Miss York is mistaken. She was told that you were kidnapped.”

  “You can see for yourself that I’m not in distress. I met Bart and his sister Della in Chicago years ago. Our correspondence advanced our relationship, and knowing my dilemma, he offered to rescue me. It wasn’t long before we were married. Della and her husband have been most helpful in keeping my identity a secret. I’ve gone to great lengths to hide from my family.”

  The lady before him so little resembled Calista’s picture that Matthew would have never guessed. Even now, with her spectacles removed, Lila Seaton didn’t have the same haunted look of the girl in the photo. The porcelain complexion and the upturned nose were the same, but her months of freedom had completely altered her appearance.

  “Calista doesn’t know that you’re hiding. If I could get word to her before she reports to . . .” He paused, still aware that Calista’s occupation was better left undefined. She was on her way to Kansas City to meet with another detective. Once that detective had the names of Della Rush and Mrs. Bowman, it would take him no time at all to find out that Mrs. Bowman was Lila Seaton. And no matter where they traveled, they would still be pursued. “We need to call off the hunt. If I can get word to Calista before she talks to her replacement, you could stay here.”

  “Do you think she’d give up on the job, just on that?”

  Would she? While the story made perfect sense to Matthew, Calista was more wary. And she was devoted to her job. More devoted to it than she was to him, evidently. Would she oppose the mighty Pinkerton Agency on behalf of a young lady who wanted to cut ties with her family? If she believed him, believed Lila, then she would. He had to have faith in her. Hadn’t she kept Howie, even though it inconvenienced her something terrible? She might vacillate, but in the end, she would make the right decision. All his future rested on that hope.

  He had to get to her before she passed on her information. Time was slipping away from him.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” he said. “If we can convince Miss York of your plight, you might be able to stay in Joplin. I have to catch her.”

  He stood, banging his knee against the leg of the round table, but he barely felt it in his hurry. He accepted Reverend Dixon’s well-wishes and assurance that he would explain his absence to Mr. Kentworth and Mr. Blount, and then Matthew raced to the depot to buy a ticket. But where in Kansas City was she? It was even bigger than Joplin. He doubted he could just ask for directions from someone at the depot. He’d lose valuable time.

  “Matthew Cook! Just who I was looking for.”

  Turning, Matthew saw another Kentworth, and this one was angry.

  “What do you mean, introducing my sister to the likes of Silas?” Amos had the same fighting stance as his sister, but Matthew reckoned he could throw more weight behind a swing.

  “I didn’t know, or I wouldn’t have.”

  “There’s one thing you can do to make it right. Show me where he lives. He’s due a visit from me.” Amos spat on the ground to punctuate his threat.

  But the pieces were falling into place for Matthew. “Sure, but one thing first. Have you got a minute? Come with me to the depot.”

  Amos’s face lightened. “What are we doing at the depot?”

  “If I got you to Kansas City, could you find Calista’s house?”

  “Yep. Only been there twice, but it’s not the kind of place you forget.”

  “Then c’mon. We’re hitting the rails. You can go see your uncle and aunt York.”

  Amos, always ready for an adventure, jumped into step with Matthew. “I should wash up before I take a trip. That’s what Ma and Granny taught me, but since we’re in a hurry . . .”

  “You can wash up on the train. Your aunt will be happy to
see you regardless.”

  But would Calista? She hadn’t told Matthew good-bye only to have him show up on her doorstep the next day. She’d talked about having time to think things over, seeing if she could live her life without him. If she wanted space, he wasn’t giving her much at all. But there was more than his desires at stake. Lila’s safety mattered too. He had to reach Calista before the other detectives did. He had to stop her from sharing what she’d learned if they really wanted to save Lila Seaton.

  CHAPTER

  26

  It had been months since Calista had passed through the clematis-lined arch that led to the Yorks’ private gardens at their house on Scarritt Point. Although their green expanse in the city had never offered the freedom that Granny Laura’s ranch provided, it was enough room for the raucous activity that was part of any Kentworth’s birthright.

  The sound of breaking glass was Calista’s first clue as to where her family might be. She crossed the Japanese bridge over the lily pads and found her mother and two siblings involved in some sort of contest.

  “You stepped over the line,” Evangelina cried. “Before you released your shot, you stepped over the line.” Her frock of gauzy silk crepe floated like wisps of scented smoke on the air. Her dark hair framed her face amid all the pastels and drew attention to her striking coloring.

  “What line? All you said was that I’m supposed to stand here. I didn’t know there was a line.” This from her brother, Corban. The elegant suit he wore showed he should be working in one of the high-rise offices their father owned. Instead, he’d traded his account book for a slingshot and was standing opposite a line of china plates propped inside a bookcase that had been carried outside from the study.

  With an explosion, a plate shattered. Calista’s mother, Pauline, lowered her slingshot. “Did you observe your mummy? My toes didn’t go over the line, and that puts me in the lead.”

  “Calista!” Evangelina squealed and ran toward her, catching her in an aggressive embrace. “We didn’t know you were coming.”

  Her mother hugged her as well, while Corban tested the elasticity of his slingshot bands.