She shuddered, remembering the harsh tones of the man who had grabbed her on the porch. She’d believed him too. “God will take care of us, Papa. But you must do the right thing.” His jaw flexed and she knew he wouldn’t tell the constable. “Does the constable suspect you in Eliza’s death?”
He shrugged. “He was pleasant enough. I assured him I had nothing to do with it. I think he believed me.”
Katie hadn’t been sure what to think, but staring at her father, she believed him incapable of murder. “Who killed her, Papa?”
He held her gaze. “I don’t know for sure, but I suspect one of my partners found out she was selling her information.”
“How was she involved in this?”
“She was hired to get close to the ship captain when the boat docked here a few months ago. She was to find out when Dalton’s Fortune was making its money run. She transmitted the information and the heist was successful.”
“So successful you all decided to do it again with the Paradox.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Why was she selling the information?”
“Because she was greedy.” He swayed where he stood. “I must rest.”
He had a lot of room to talk. She wished she had the courage to say it to him. “I’m not coming home, Papa. Not yet. I must think about this.” Ignoring his angry blustering, she went to her buggy. She had a lot of thinking and praying to do. Will had said little as they’d left, and she was thankful he was not pressing her. This was a decision she had to make on her own.
The clopping of the horse’s hooves melded with the chirps of the birds in the shrubs as the buggy rolled along the road. Mercy Falls was just ahead. If only Addie were here to talk things over with. Katie missed her dreadfully. When she thought of marrying Bart, she felt no peace. Only disquiet in her soul.
She rounded the curve into town and slowed the horse. The buggy’s wheels rolled along the cobblestone surface and the thumping drowned out her thoughts. On a whim, she parked the buggy outside her father’s shop and went inside. The scent of pipe tobacco and men’s clothing surrounded her when she stepped inside. The two men shopping nodded at her, as did the clerk who worked for her father. She wandered the front display room, pausing occasionally to touch a hanging jacket or adjust a hat display. What would this place be worth? There was still a good amount of stock here and the shop was the only haberdashery in town. Surely someone other than Bart might want to buy it. The town needed the shop to stay open.
The bell tinkled on the door and she whirled to see Bart step into the store. “Bart, what a surprise,” she said, forcing a smile.
“I saw you come in. I was across the street at the bank.” He crossed the few feet separating them and took her hands. “I’ve missed you, Katie. I was going to call to take you to dinner and the nickelodeon.
You’ve been cooped up with that baby for too long.”
“How sweet of you,” she said. When he frowned, she realized he’d expected her to say she missed him too. But she had barely given him a thought all week.
I can’t marry him.
Katie knew it with every fiber of her being. He was pleasant enough. Handsome, rich, respected. But she loved Will Jesperson.
And she couldn’t live a lie anymore.
“I talked with your father. He seems to be doing quite well,” Bart said, drawing her to a quiet corner of the store.
“Yes, he is,” she managed to get out.
“Has he said—what happened?” His mouth twisted.
“It wasn’t a suicide attempt,” she said, reading the distaste on his face.
Doubt still lurked in his eyes. “I certainly hope not.”
“He didn’t try to kill himself,” she insisted. What would he say if he knew what her father had done was so much worse than an attempted suicide? Her father somehow hoped to keep it all quiet, but truth had a way of coming out. Especially something this big.
Bart’s face cleared. He released her hands then reached into his pocket and withdrew a small velvet box. When he withdrew his hand, a piece of paper fluttered out. He didn’t notice it as he glanced toward the door as one of the customers exited.
She scooped it up. “Wait, Bart, this fell from your pocket.” She glanced at the paper and saw the handwriting. She’d seen the writing before and she struggled to remember. She gasped when it became clear.
He turned at the sound of her distress. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Her fingers clutched the note and she pulled it away from his outstretched hand. “Is this your handwriting?”
“Yes.” He reached for it again but she stepped back. He frowned. “Whatever is the matter?”
“My father had a note in his safe,” she said. “It was from you.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps, but what of it? We often did business. I bought all my wardrobe from him, and surely you know by now that I hope to buy the haberdashery.”
She clamped her teeth against the accusations cascading through her mind. Bart was in on the piracy. Maybe the mastermind. Katie nearly took another step back. She frantically searched for something to say that would make him put that velvet box away but her words dried on her tongue. In a daze she noticed the showroom was empty now. The clerk had put the CLOSED sign out and had left with the last customer, as if he had figured out that Bart was about to propose. They were alone.
When she didn’t answer him, Bart opened the box to reveal a marquis engagement ring. He went to one knee and took her left hand in his. “I’d intended to do this over dinner and candlelight, but I can’t wait. Katie Russell, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” His blue eyes were earnest and warm. He released her hand long enough to pluck the ring from its case, and then he took her hand again and slipped the ring on her finger.
The touch of his hand sent shivers through her. He was evil. She pulled her hand from his and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Bart. I can’t marry you.” She tugged the diamond from her finger and pressed it back into his hand.
Bart shot to his feet. “I should have waited,” he said. “Any woman wants to be romanced a bit. We’ve been apart too long, with the quarantine and all. I was too eager.”
She had to get out of here, away from him. “It’s not that at all. I’m honored you would ask me. I’ve just realized I can’t marry a man I don’t love.”
His face clouded. “I care very much about you, Katie. I thought you felt the same way about me. But no matter. We have a much better basis for marriage than mere love: respect, equal social standing, the same goals for our lives. Our marriage would be steady and quite happy. I’m quite certain you will come to care for me in time as I care for you.”
“I think I want more than that,” she choked out past a tight throat.
“Your father promised . . .” He broke off and cleared his throat.
“My father promised what?”
“That I could marry you.”
This square city block was perfect for his Macy’s. Her father had lied to her about Bart’s involvement. No, that wasn’t right. He’d never answered.
Staring into his face, she searched for the truth. “It’s clear you don’t love me either, not really. You said you care for me. That’s not love.
We get along. Our union is suitable. That might be enough for you to agree to marriage, but I’ve discovered it’s not enough for me. There is no spark between us.”
His brows drew together. “Of course there is. You’re overwrought.
I love you, Katie. I’m sorry if I wasn’t clear.”
Katie heard no ring of truth in his voice though. His eyes were evasive, crafty. As she stared, his face changed. His eyes grew shuttered and his mouth twisted. He put the ring back into his pocket.
“Something has changed you. It’s that lightkeeper, isn’t it? You must marry me, Katie. It’s been decided.” He took a step toward her.
The hard light in his eyes made her stomach plunge. “You aided the pirates. You and Papa t
ook the gold,” she said, backing away.
Will rode the bicycle back toward the lighthouse. His spirits dragged at how it had gone with Katie’s parents. Katie had been impossible to read, but he knew how she treasured her mother. It would be difficult for her to go against her parents’ wishes. Could he even ask her to? It would cause a break in their relationship.
He pedaled out of town toward the coast. The going got harder and harder until he realized he had a flat tire. He dismounted and kicked the tire. A team of horses pulling a heavily laden wagon lumbered toward him. As it drew near, the driver reined in the horses and stopped beside him. He was a portly man in his forties with a grizzled beard.
“You from around here?” the driver asked. “I’m looking for the old Houston place. I hear it’s hard to find.”
“I’m new here,” Will said, straddling his bicycle. “I’ve never heard of it. As you can see, I have a flat tire. Could I get a ride back to town?”
The fellow looked him over then shrugged. “If you don’t mind waiting while I make this delivery.”
“Not a problem. I’ll just throw my bike in the back of your wagon.” Will tossed his bike on top of some boxes covered with a tarp then climbed up next to the driver. “I appreciate it. Where is the property you’re looking for?”
The driver consulted his notebook. “The driveway is off Oak Road.”
“This is Lighthouse Road,” Will said. “Oak Road is back to the highway then four miles down.” He’d seen the road but had never been on it. “What is this fellow’s name?”
“Hudson Masters.”
The name was familiar. It was the fellow who had hired Philip.
The driver continued to talk. “I hear he owns a bunch of newspapers. He’s opening a new one over at Ferndale.”
“It sounds like his place is about halfway between Mercy Falls and Ferndale. Where are you based?”
“Ferndale,” the man said.
Will directed the driver to the road and the lorry lumbered around the corner and down the highway that traced the coastline. The driver spotted the turnoff to the estate. He turned the big wagon into the narrow lane. The house was a three-story brick mansion with peeling paint and a few broken windows. If Will had seen it from the road, he would have assumed it was uninhabited.
“Looks vacant,” he told the driver.
“It’s been empty for years. The renovations are going to take a year.
A businessman from the city bought it a couple of months ago and has been renovating it.”
“He’s living in this shack?”
“I heard he’s living in two rooms when he’s there. He conducts much of his delivery by telephone and telegram. He’s there today to take delivery of the floor tile himself.”
Will studied the derelict building. It could be magnificent. When the wagon came to a stop, he leaped down. “I see no buggy or horse,” he said. His senses tingled the way they always did when something didn’t feel right. A businessman from the city. Could it possibly be the man who had taken the ship?
The driver jumped down and tugged the tarp off the boxes of tile.
“He might not be here yet. I’m an hour early.”
“I’ll give you a hand.” Will helped the driver haul boxes of tile to the front porch. It was still sound structurally, but the paint had peeled from the redwood boards. The men stacked the tile to the right of the door.
“I have to wait around,” the driver said when they were done.
“He’s paying me for this load when he arrives.”
“I think I’ll look around,” Will said, his senses on full alert. He brushed his hands off on his pants and went around the side of the house.
There were two barns, a chicken coop, a well house, and another shed in the weedy expanse behind the home. This place had been quite the estate back in the day. He shoved open the first barn door.
Dust motes danced in the air as he stepped inside. Rusty tack hung on the walls. The stalls were empty except for old hay. He poked around until he was satisfied that the structure held no secrets. Shutting the door behind him, he went to the second barn. It appeared to have been in more recent use. The tack on the walls was new and a gleaming buggy sat in one stall. There was a horse in one enclosure and droppings in another so the man must own two horses.
He examined the barn but found no gold or other clues. When he stepped back into the sunshine, he heard voices. The owner must have returned. Taking care not to be seen, he sidled around the side of the house. Two men stood talking by the porch. Though the businessman had his back to him, Will recognized the dark-haired man immediately.
He’d found his pirate.
THIRTY-THREE
SHE’D THOUGHT HE was so mild-mannered and kind. Katie stared at Bart and wondered how she’d been so deceived. “You killed all those sailors.”
He held out his hands. “I had nothing to do with that. No one was supposed to be harmed. The men we hired took it into their own heads to deal with witnesses.”
More than ten men had died that day.
She doubled over and breathed through her nose. She tasted bile in the back of her throat and willed herself not to throw up. When her nausea passed, she slowly straightened and stared at Bart. “Why did you kill Eliza?”
He reached out to her. His face darkened when she flinched. “It wasn’t me. I cared about her. My partner got wind that she was going to sing about who was involved in taking the gold. He had her killed.”
She put her hand to her head and thought it through. The baby.
“You cared about Eliza? Then Jennie—”
“Is my daughter,” he said, finishing her thought. “But it means nothing. You’re the one I love.” His voice rose.
She stared at him. “She looks nothing like you.”
“She looks exactly like my mother,” he said.
Katie nodded, remembering his mother’s flashing dark eyes. “But I heard Eliza try to blackmail my father. Why would she—” Katie took a step back. It was all clear when she thought about it. “I understand. He wanted a marriage between you and me. Eliza was going to tell me about the baby and ruin everything if he didn’t give her money.”
“She wouldn’t have done it,” he muttered. “She wanted us to leave, start over somewhere else. Nothing I told her could make her understand I wasn’t marrying her.”
“No, you wanted this property to build your Macy’s,” she said.
“It’s more than that, Katie. Things can still work out. No one has to know about this. I have plenty of money to help your parents.”
“I’m not marrying you!”
“Then your parents will be destitute.”
She stared at him. “You refused to pay Papa unless I married you,” she said. “That’s why he’s still pushing me toward this.”
He reached for her and she stepped back again. He dropped his hands to his sides. “I care about you, Katie, but make no mistake. I mean to have this property.”
“No. You can’t have it. Or me.” She lifted her chin in defiance but the menacing look in his eye made her take a faltering step backward. “I’ll scream,” she tossed out. “The constable will come running.”
“You won’t tell him,” he said, his voice calm, still advancing. “You have no proof and I will testify that I saw your father kill Eliza. That would destroy your mother.”
Her back touched the glass display case. “You’re despicable. You allowed your own daughter to be abandoned.”
Pain darkened his eyes. “My, uh, associate didn’t realize she was there. When I heard about her disappearance, it was nearly midnight. I arrived to look for the baby and found the house empty.”
“I’m sure you were quite happy you were spared your duty.”
“This is getting us nowhere,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’ll sign that deed. Now.”
“I don’t have it,” she said.
“It’s in the safe. Your father told me that much.” He took her arm in a punis
hing grip and pulled her toward the back room. “You’re going to open the safe and get it for me.”
No amount of twisting lessened the tight grip on her arm. She finally gave up and allowed him to propel her forward. “My signature would need to be witnessed.”
“Then we’ll go to the county recorder and get that done and the deed transferred at the same time.” He shoved her, and she fell to her knees in front of the safe. “Open it.”
She rose and faced him. “No.”
“You’ll be an orphan by nightfall if you don’t do what I say,” he said through gritted teeth. “Open the safe!”
How could she have been so deceived? This man was a monster.
“What’s to prevent you from killing us the moment you have the deed in your possession?”
“Because you’ll know that if you say anything, you’ll all be dead.”
He touched her chin. “I don’t want to hurt you. Don’t you see? This didn’t have to come down this way. You could still marry me. I’d make you a good husband, I swear.”
“Don’t you touch me.” She slapped his hand away. “Don’t you ever touch me again.”
His eyes grew cold again. “Open the safe, Katie.”
“Very well,” she said. She twirled the dial until the safe clicked open.
Bart pushed her aside when she threw the lever and opened the door to the safe. “I’ll get it,” he said.
She watched as he riffled through the documents inside and then emerged, a small grin of triumph on his face. “Now we’ll get it transferred.”
She smiled, glancing at the clock. “It’s too late,” she said. “The county office is closed. Today is Wednesday.”
His face reddened and he swore. He raised his hand as if to strike her but she refused to cower and lifted her chin to stare him down.
He dropped his hand and grabbed her arm. “Then we’ll have to get your signature witnessed elsewhere.”
She still didn’t trust him not to dispose of her once he had control of the property. As he shoved her out the back door, she prayed for a miracle.
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