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Butterfly Palace

Page 6

by Coble, Colleen


  She turned to look at him, her blue eyes darkening to indigo. “You left me and never came back. Why? Though I doubt I can believe any excuse you tell me.”

  He winced. “I never lied to you, Lily.”

  “Your love was a lie.”

  “It wasn’t!” He reached for her hand again and she flinched, so he clenched his hands together in his lap. “I have always loved you. I’ve never stopped.”

  Her lips parted in a faint gasp. Moisture made her eyes luminous. “You could not have loved me and put me through what you did. You’ve been gone for four years, Andy. Four years! Your professions of love are hollow. I could be in the grave like my mother, and you wouldn’t even have known.”

  “I would have known. Grace wrote me every month. I got her letter about your mother the day after you arrived.”

  Her eyes grew wider. “She’s known where you’ve been all this time? She’s never mentioned a word.”

  “She’s my cousin. I swore her to secrecy.”

  “But why?” The words were barely a whisper.

  Tell her. He gritted his teeth to keep back the truth. Truth, though admirable, could get her killed. “Men were after me. Men I feared might harm you.” As they harmed our fathers. It was as much as he could tell her.

  The automobile stopped, and she thrust open the door on her side. “So you left me alone where anyone might have attacked me? That makes no sense, Andy. None at all. In fact, I think you’re still lying to me.” Gathering her skirt in one hand, she stepped down onto the sidewalk before he or the driver could assist her. “As far as I’m concerned, you are merely a guest at the Butterfly Palace. Anything that was once between us is gone. Belle can have you.”

  Her back ramrod straight, she disappeared through the door to the booksellers. He leaped down from the auto and spoke to the driver. “I’ll make my own way from here.”

  He glanced at his watch. His appointment was in fifteen minutes. There was no time to chase down Lily and make her listen. He turned back and climbed into the vehicle.

  SEVEN

  Lily retrieved the volume of Dickens for her mistress, then tucked the leather book into her reticule. Her nerves still hummed from being in Drew’s presence. Remembering his lies, she curled her fingers into the palms of her gloves. Did the man even know how to tell the truth?

  The heat baked up from the bricks out on the sidewalk. She glanced down the street and saw the sign for the tea shop he’d mentioned. Who was he meeting? Though it was none of her business, she found herself moving in that direction. If he was up to no good, she owed it to her employers to find out. She had a bit of money in her purse, enough to purchase a cup of tea. It wasn’t like he had the right to throw her out.

  As she neared the café, she saw Drew sitting at an outside table with Mr. Vesters. Neither man had seen her yet, but she kept her head high as she quietly asked to be seated at the table next to theirs. A tall planter obscured her table from view. They were intent in conversation, but their voices carried as she settled into her chair with her back to them. The scent of cinnamon from the rolls on a tray filled the air.

  A chair scraped on the pavement, and Vesters’s voice rose. “So that’s your game? I should leave right now.”

  “Look, I know what you’re doing, and I want in on it.” Drew’s voice was hard and insistent. “You’ll find me an asset to your operation. I have better contacts than you can imagine. I can double the money you’re making now.”

  “How did you find out?” Mr. Vesters sounded a bit more relaxed but still wary.

  “Does it matter? What matters is I can help you. I can expand your operation and your profits.”

  “Maybe.”

  Lily couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. The words used made her uneasy. Operation. And in on it. Was Vesters doing something . . . criminal? And did that mean Drew was just as crooked? She didn’t want to believe it, but the man behind her wasn’t the man who’d held her hand in the moonlight and promised eternal devotion. He wasn’t the man who’d lit her skin on fire with his touch.

  She dared a glance over her shoulder, and her gaze collided with Drew’s. His eyes widened, and the color drained from his face. He quickly recovered his composure and leaned forward to speak to the other man. So quietly Lily couldn’t hear.

  She blinked at the burning in her eyes as she drew off her gloves. The smile she slanted up toward the waitress was an effort. “Just tea, please. With sugar.”

  “Lily?”

  She looked up at Drew’s voice. He was alone. She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t seen Vesters leave. “I’ve concluded my duties and thought I’d have some tea.” Her voice sounded high and strained. He said nothing as he stared at her. She’d never been able to mask her feelings. “What are you involved in, Drew? If you don’t explain to my satisfaction, I will go to Mr. Marshall and tell him what I overheard.”

  Drew pulled out a chair beside her and sat. “What did you hear, Lily? We said nothing of consequence.”

  “It sounded as though you were forcing Mr. Vesters to allow you to join some nefarious scheme he’s involved in.”

  He looked away, out toward the lorry clattering down the street, then back at her. “I can explain.”

  “So you keep saying. Yet no explanation has been forthcoming.” Lily waited until the waitress set down her tea and left. “You can begin anytime.”

  “It’s complicated, Lily. I don’t want to be overheard.” He rose and tossed some money onto the table, then held out his hand. “Come along to a more private place.”

  Eyeing his open palm, she considered his request. Tea could wait. She put her hand in his, and the touch of his skin against her palm tightened her chest. He still had the power to affect her like no other man. Gathering up her gloves, she went with him.

  He led her down the street toward a small park. Children played on the other side of the grassy lawn, but no one was close enough to hear them as they settled on a bench under a tree. The branches screened them from any passersby. The sweet scent of flowers perfumed the air.

  She arranged her skirts and listened to the birds chirp overhead. The scent of fresh-cut grass mingled with the roses rambling up a fence nearby. “Well?”

  He sank beside her, close enough that his shoulder brushed hers. “I’m with the Secret Service.”

  “What? Why, when? You never told me.” She studied his serious expression. His statement seemed ridiculous.

  “You remember when I stalked off after the fire?”

  She nodded, her throat tight. It was an image she still carried with her. “I never saw you again. Not until last week.”

  “I crawled into a barn to sleep. I didn’t want to see you or anyone else. A man found me there. He told me our fathers had been killed because they’d discovered a counterfeiting ring.”

  The bench was hard under her thighs but not as hard as the lump in her throat. “The fire was deliberately set? I always wondered how it raged out of control so fast.” She couldn’t bear to think about the horrific night, so she concentrated on the birds chirping and the scent of freshly mown grass.

  He nodded. “I agreed to become a Secret Service agent to bring the killer to justice. I had to do something about the guilt eating me alive.”

  Though she flinched from it, she thought back to that night. “There was a stack of money on the desk. Was it counterfeit?”

  His eyes widened. “You never mentioned that.”

  “You disappeared. I couldn’t tell you anything. Go on with the story.”

  “My superior told me there was a counterfeiting ring operating in the house next to yours. The Ballards.”

  She gasped. “That’s ridiculous. Mr. Ballard was the nicest man. We were all crazy about him.”

  Drew’s dark brown eyes were steady and resolute. “I believe that nice man killed our fathers.”

  Something squeezed in her chest, and she shook her head. “Where’s the proof of that?”

  “I saw stacks of money
in his barn. That’s where I was holed up when my boss offered me a job. I asked my boss to arrest them and he refused. The Secret Service wanted to get the entire gang. I was told to leave town, and they would send in another operative.”

  She struggled to reconcile what she knew with what he was saying. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would have gone with you if you’d asked.” Her heart had never recovered from his betrayal. She’d never been able to fully trust another man after he left without a word.

  “I’m in a dangerous line of work. I couldn’t keep you safe.” His gaze dropped away. “And I didn’t deserve you. Not after my actions killed our fathers.” His lips flattened, and he looked off toward the children. “Ballard killed my father. I’ll have revenge if it’s the last thing I do.”

  Lammes Candies was filled with deliciously sweet smells when Belle opened the door and motioned her aunt inside. “Aunt Camille, you must taste their gem. It’s icy and fruity, much better than ice cream.” They passed a display of newspapers. The headlines held the lurid details of the last murder.

  Men and women glanced their way from the long bar on the right. Candies of every type filled the glass display cases on the left. The women stepped to the wooden bar beside two policemen, and Belle ordered strawberry gems for both of them. Her aunt signed the tab to have the bill sent up to the house.

  Belle took the frosty treats and carried them to the café tables out on the sidewalk. “I thought Uncle Everett would be here already.” She pulled out her chair and settled onto it, then took a tiny taste of her gem.

  Her aunt sat across the table from her. “You know how men are, darling. He likely got caught up in politics. Election Day will be here before we know it.” Her eyes widened at the first taste of her gem. “It’s delicious, Belle. I’ll order some to be sent to the house for dessert tomorrow.”

  Belle’s good humor evaporated. She’d had plans for Friday. “What’s tomorrow?”

  “Have you forgotten the fund-raising dinner already? We have fifty of Everett’s best supporters descending on us. That reminds me—I ordered you a new dress. It’s a daring shade of orange. We will stop and pick it up on the way home.”

  Belle had grown tired of all the new fripperies she was expected to wear. Ribbons, gloves, slippers. Dozens of dresses of every color packed her wardrobe. Many she hadn’t yet worn. The thought of so many parties this year had seemed pleasant at first. Now she wished for something of more substance to do. She had no more purpose than the grass waving in the breeze.

  “There’s Uncle Everett.” She waved at him. Many heads turned to watch him pass, including those of every woman in the area.

  He lifted his hand in greeting and quickened his pace. The sidewalk was crowded, and he paused to allow two women to pass. The bushes lining the walk on the other side of the street by the park parted, and something glinted in the sun.

  Belle squinted, then gasped. She leaped to her feet as the barrel took aim at her uncle. Time slowed as she instantly realized the shooter intended to kill her uncle.

  She pointed. “Uncle Everett, get down! There’s a gun!”

  Uncle Everett looked up and paused. He smiled as if to assure her, but his smile faded as the gunman rose with the weapon in his hand.

  There had been two policemen inside, and Belle shouted, “Help, police!” Unable to tear her gaze away, she took a step toward her uncle.

  The bushes shook, and the gun became easier to see. A shot rang out, and Uncle Everett dropped to the ground. Aunt Camille leaped to her feet and screamed. The gun disappeared from the bushes, and a man rushed across the open park area. Other people screamed, and several men gave chase to the shooter.

  Belle rushed toward her uncle, who began to stand and brush himself off. “Uncle, are you hurt?”

  He embraced her. “No, no, my dear. Thanks to your warning, I escaped injury. Lucky for me you saw the scoundrel.” He released her to hug his wife. “Don’t fret, Camille, I’m fine. The police will soon catch the culprit.”

  “I knew this would happen.” Camille pulled her hanky from her sleeve and dabbed her cheeks. “Ever since you announced you planned to support women’s suffrage. You must stop, Everett. I don’t want to be widowed.”

  Belle nodded. “It’s not worth it, Uncle Everett. We don’t want to lose you.”

  “You’d both have me forget my convictions? What kind of man would I be?”

  Convictions. The word struck a chord in Belle’s heart. Did she have any convictions of any sort? Her existence had been rather aimless and self-centered. But it was what was expected of women in her station of life. She didn’t have to be some kind of crusader. Especially if it immersed her in danger or prevented her from achieving her goal of marriage.

  She fell into step beside her aunt and uncle as they headed back to the candy store. “Do you know who these men might be, Uncle?”

  He pulled out a chair for her aunt. “I’ve heard a few rumblings, but we have no proof. Was he familiar at all, Belle?”

  She shook her head as he pulled out her chair. “I didn’t get a good look at him. I saw only his back as he was running away. His hat obscured his face as he turned.”

  She looked across the street at the park. A couple caught her attention, and she frowned. Was that the new kitchen maid with a man? Narrowing her eyes, she studied the two in the shadow of the great live oak. Surely that wasn’t Mr. Hawkes. She couldn’t be positive with the sun in her eyes and the two of them half hidden by the leaves.

  The police approached her, and she answered their questions. When they were through, she rose. “I think I’ll take a walk in the park.”

  Her aunt caught at her hand. “Oh no, Belle. Not with that man still on the loose.”

  “I’ll stay in the open area. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Uncle Everett, you can have my gem. I haven’t eaten any of it yet, and it’s melting.”

  Shaking off her aunt’s hand, she stepped into the street and dodged a lorry. All she needed was to get a little closer to see.

  EIGHT

  Drew remained seated when Lily sprang to her feet and paced the grassy space under the tree. She had never been good at hiding her emotions. He probably shouldn’t have told her the truth, but he couldn’t let her betray him to her employer.

  She spun around and stared at him. “The fire was set?”

  He nodded. That night was so embedded in his memory he could almost smell smoke right now. He well remembered the look on Lily’s face when she realized her father wasn’t walking out of that inferno, as well as her mother’s wails. A deep sense of responsibility still gnawed at him. The killer was still walking around. Justice had not been served.

  Lily clutched his forearm. “But why? Why would anyone kill them? How were they involved in this?”

  He stared at her hand on his arm. The familiar heat from her touch would only distract him. He stood up so her hand fell away. “A saddlebag of money was accidentally left in the livery. Your father was smart. He realized it was counterfeit and wrote a letter to the Secret Service. But before anything could be done, the money vanished and the fire occurred. That’s when I was pulled into it.”

  Her blue eyes shimmered, and she blinked rapidly. “How close are you to putting the men responsible behind bars? It’s been four years.” His gaze traveled over her perfect skin and luminous eyes. “Ballard has an uncanny ability to sniff us out. Every time I’ve gotten close, he’s vanished. I tracked him here three months ago.”

  “Has he seen you? Are you in danger?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve kept my distance. If he knew I was here, he’d vanish. The problem is I don’t have enough hard evidence to convict him.”

  “Not even of murder?”

  “Especially not of murder. What I’ve got is circumstantial. I need to catch him with the goods.”

  “Mr. Vesters is involved in the counterfeiting, so you’re trying to get close to him?”

  Her perception caught him off guard, but he wasn’t going to
lie to her. “That’s right.”

  “Where is Ballard now?”

  He could see her thoughts churning. “I don’t want you anywhere near him, Lily. He’s ruthless and has no conscience.”

  “If you don’t tell me, I’ll ask Mr. Vesters myself.”

  “You’re going to tip my hand and put yourself at risk! Stay out of it,” he said, sitting down on the bench again.

  Her lips flattened, and she narrowed her eyes. “Then tell me where he is.”

  “Why? There’s nothing you can do about this.”

  “If he killed my father, I have a right to help bring Ballard to justice.”

  Maybe she had a point. He felt the same. But she didn’t know the type of man they were up against. Drew suspected Ballard had put more people in the grave than they knew. He didn’t intend for Lily to be another victim. “I’ll keep you informed, how’s that? It’s the best I can do, Lily.”

  She sank onto the bench beside him. “That’s not good enough, An—I mean, Mr. Hawkes. I want to help. I’m in a position to hear things. I could be of tremendous service to you.”

  He curled his hands into fists. The thought of her in harm’s way was unacceptable. “No, Lily. Not going to happen.”

  “Then I’ll do it on my own.” She rose and took a step toward the sidewalk.

  He couldn’t let her do anything reckless. He caught at her hand before she could leave him, then tugged her back onto the bench. “People are noticing our argument. Smile. Try to relax like you’re having a good time.”

  “No one is paying a bit of attention to us.”

  He nodded toward two men smoking cigars by the creek. A young woman sat on a boulder with a child in her arms. “Those two were watching with great interest.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she stared at them. “Who are they?”

  “I don’t know, but we can’t afford to take any chances.”

  “You’re just saying that to try to keep me from getting involved.” She gave a small gasp. “That’s the woman who was attacked the other day. Jane White.” She stood and started toward the group.

 

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