“What if I can get Tom out of prison?” Nick asked.
The question surprised her, but only for a moment. Her smile was grim as she shook her head. “Tom knew the risks when he earned that prison sentence. I’m not willing to bargain with that.”
“Are you that consumed with revenge? Even when your son’s freedom hangs in the balance?”
“Even so.” Her voice radiated warmth and pleasure. “I ought to thank you. I was so despondent after my husband died that I wanted to follow him into the grave. Your visit gave me a reason to keep on living. I’m having fun balancing the scales, so thank you, Nick.”
He wanted to take his fist to the fussy china dishes and smash them to pieces just to shake that unearthly composure, if only for a second.
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you won’t bargain with Tom’s freedom,” he said. “You found it easy enough to turn your back on Ellie. A girl who only wanted to please, who longed for a fraction of the attention you showered on your bratty son. What a shining example of motherhood you are.”
“You’re so pathetically naïve,” Margaret said. “You think I’ve done wrong by poor, neglected Eloise? That she is an innocent pawn in all this?” She leaned in even closer, lowering her voice to a nasty whisper. “Who do you think manufactured all those accounting ledgers to frame your adored Rosalind?”
He reared back in his chair. Ellie wouldn’t . . . would she? He didn’t really know her anymore. He hadn’t even recognized her at Bruce Garrett’s house.
“Did you put her up to it? Blackmail her somehow?” he asked.
Margaret leaned back and topped off her cup of tea. “It wasn’t very difficult. As you say, Eloise has always been so eager to please, and she was more than happy to help once I explained the situation to her.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve. I’ll turn this back on you and see you both in prison.”
“Careful, Nick,” she purred. “You have a lot more to lose than me. Such a charming little daughter. And a sister who managed to marry into blue blood. They always say the higher one climbs, the mightier the fall. Do you really want to risk all that?”
He shoved to his feet, towering over her. “You touch my family, and I will see you dead,” he lashed out. “I swear it.”
She dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin, then glanced at the other ladies in the tearoom. “I’ve noted your threats,” she said calmly. “As did everyone else in this room. Have a lovely day, Nick.”
He stood motionless as she stepped around him to leave the tearoom. His anger smoldered, and he had never felt so helpless. Rosalind’s reputation and freedom had been stolen, all because her life had crossed paths with his. He had to figure out a way to save her, but this wasn’t something money could buy.
Aunt Margaret had tried to play it cool, but she had made one mistake. By revealing Eloise’s role in creating that set of fraudulent books, he now had an avenue to prove Rosalind’s innocence. He couldn’t believe Eloise would do such a thing, but the evidence manufactured against Rosalind had been done by a professional, so there might be some truth in it.
It was time for him to discover who his young cousin really was.
Rosalind sat at the only table in the attic, trying to filter out the three women bickering over a card game and concentrate on Dr. Leal’s final report. She ignored the ache in her back from bending over the washing tub, her waterlogged fingers, and the hunger from skipping dinner this evening. Lining up, submitting to inspection, and heading to the dining hall took over an hour, and she couldn’t spare the time for it. She only had a few hours to review Dr. Leal’s final report before the jail declared lights-out at nine o’clock.
Their ninety-day deferment was over, and the report would be submitted to Judge McLaughlin tomorrow. All it needed was for her to proofread it a final time and affix her signature to the cover page. No matter what happened during the rest of her career, this was her landmark accomplishment. Even if Judge McLaughlin ruled against them, this report would be read by scientists all over the world. It was a powerful stepping-stone into the future.
As she read deeper into the report, Rosalind’s confidence grew, and she was filled with such overwhelming pride that it was getting hard not to weep. They had done it. They had crossed the finish line with a convincing report that had taken courage, ingenuity, and a few strokes of luck to create. Despite the awful calamity that had befallen her, no one could take this accomplishment away from her. She might spend the next months or years in prison, but this report would forever gleam as her proudest achievement.
She turned to the last page and was gratified to see the long list of scientists and engineers who had signed their name in support of their findings. Men in charge of water systems from Cleveland and Atlanta and Chicago had all endorsed it. And New York! General O’Donnell had endorsed—
She gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief at Nicholas Drake’s name.
Her heart nearly stopped, but she stared at his name, reading it over and over just to be certain she wasn’t seeing things. It hurt to see, but she was happy. Thrilled. Somehow she’d always known Nick would come around in the end. It was impossible to know who had persuaded him or how it had happened, but all three commissioners from the State Water Board of New York had endorsed this report, and that was going to count for a lot.
She added her signature to the cover page with a flourish. Never had she been prouder to sign her name than at this very moment. Ten minutes later, the warden declared lights-out, and she lay atop the mattress, a foolish grin on her face, too excited to sleep. Even with the newly open windows, it was still swelteringly hot, but she didn’t care. Sometimes it was important to focus on the good things in life rather than worry over the bad.
She was still elated when Gus arrived first thing in the morning to meet her in the visitor’s room.
“It’s perfect!” she declared as she handed him the signed report. “Tell Dr. Leal I have no corrections or suggestions, and nothing in my life has given me more satisfaction than signing my name to that report.”
“Good! Rosalind, I think I’ll be able to get your bail soon. I can’t be certain, but—”
“Gus, we don’t have time to worry about bail. You need to get this report to Dr. Leal so he can turn it over to the judge. Our ninety days expire today.”
“But I wanted to tell you, it looks like your bail money may come through. An anonymous donor—”
“Really? Good.” She nudged Gus toward the door. “Hurry!” she urged. “We can talk about bail later, but for now, nothing else matters until that report is in the judge’s hands.”
Because in the grand scheme of things, what happened to her didn’t matter nearly as much as protecting people from the fate that had befallen her parents. A piece of her had never imagined that she would actually play a part in this amazing scientific adventure, but it was real, and it was happening right now, and never had she hoped so desperately for Judge McLaughlin to see the wisdom of their case.
It didn’t take long for Nick to find his cousin Eloise. Bruce had said she worked for the accounting firm of Millhouse Jones, which meant she was likely to be found somewhere in the imposing building on Pine Street in the heart of the financial district. Based in London but with offices throughout Europe and America, Millhouse Jones was the most prestigious accounting firm in the world. Eloise must be smart to have landed a position here.
The lobby of the firm was designed to impress, with a high ceiling, potted palms, and mahogany desks topped with shaded green lamps. Nick’s footsteps were muffled by thick imported carpets as he approached the balding clerk at the front desk.
“I’d like to speak with Eloise Drake, please.”
The clerk peered up at him over the top of his spectacles. “Does Miss Drake handle one of your accounts?”
“No, I’m here on a personal matter. It’s urgent.”
The clerk’s mouth turned down. Nick probably wasn’t doing Eloise’s reputation any
good by calling her out this early in the morning, and he amended his request.
“She’s my cousin. It’s a family emergency.”
The clerk pushed away from his desk and disappeared down a hallway. Nick used the time to survey the office. Two wings of private offices branched off from the main lobby. They were tightly spaced, like a rabbit warren of hundreds of accountants and bookkeepers plugging away at the business that made New York hum.
His first sight of Eloise took him aback. Her reddish-brown hair was styled like a Gibson girl, and her clothing was smartly tailored, with a nipped-in vest, necktie, and slim skirt of indigo blue. She looked spectacular and so unlike the insecure little girl he once knew, but the hint of a smile betrayed her.
“Hello, Nick,” she said. “You’re looking better than you did the last time I saw you.”
“At least I’m able to stand on my own two feet,” he said, squeezing her hands in welcome.
“What can I do for you? I know our firm audits the accounts for the water board, but they’re handled by an entirely different department.”
“I’m here on a personal matter,” he said.
Her smile stiffened as she glanced at the clerk, whose peering gaze saw too much. This was going to be a difficult conversation, for Nick was about to accuse her of collusion in a crime, and it was best done away from the prying eyes of the front desk clerk. Nick wanted a witness, but not this one.
“My office is this way,” Eloise said.
Nick shook his head. “This place makes me feel claustrophobic. There’s a park across the street. Let’s go there.”
She cast a nervous glance at the disapproving clerk. “I’ll only be a few minutes,” she said.
“I’ll note it on your time card,” he replied sourly.
Eloise pressed Nick for details as they boarded the elevator, but he shook his head and nodded to the attendant. “Let’s wait until we are alone,” he said as the elevator doors slid closed.
They rode the rest of the way down in silence, and then Nick led her across the street to the yard of Trinity Church, a green oasis amidst the towering buildings. Pathways curved throughout the churchyard. He walked in silence until he reached an old sycamore tree, its trunk gnarled and twisted with age.
“I had an interesting conversation with your mother,” he began.
The welcoming expression on Eloise’s face cooled, but she still looked calm as she took a seat on one of the marble benches. “Oh?”
“She said you produced a set of fake accounting ledgers for her.” He remained standing and watched her expression carefully. It didn’t waver, but her chin lifted a tiny fraction.
“I’m not comfortable with the word ‘fake.’ I did some accounting work for my mother to correct a discrepancy in my father’s financial ledgers.”
Uncle Thomas still owned Drake Industries, a corporation worth several million dollars, but Nick would have thought they had their own accountant.
“And you believed that?”
A stab of hurt flashed across her eyes, so like when she was a little girl and no one wanted to play with her. Then it vanished. The coldness in her face reminded him uncomfortably of Margaret.
“If you’re accusing me of something, just spell it out.” She stood and took a few steps toward him. He wasn’t good at judging people. He tended to believe whatever they said and couldn’t spot subterfuge, but she certainly seemed convinced of her position.
“I’d rather hear what you have to say about it.”
“My mother runs a charitable school for immigrants,” Eloise said, an edge having slipped into her cool voice. “For a while, my father funded it with money taken from Drake Industries. It was perfectly legal, but he never accounted for those withdrawals in the financial records. Now that he’s died, my mother wants to sell the company, and she needed the books amended to reflect those withdrawals. All I did was some free accounting work for the family business.”
Things became clear. Doctor Clean was a publicly traded company, meaning their financial records were available to any interested investor. It would have been easy for Margaret to get a copy of those records, which she passed off to Eloise as the financial statements for Drake Industries.
“You created a fraudulent set of books for a publicly traded company,” he said. “Two people are on the hook for it, and one of them is sitting in jail right now.”
The color drained from her face, and she looked ready to faint, but he kept up the pressure.
“Two innocent people are being framed for embezzling from a fifteen million dollar company. There’s going to be a criminal investigation, and the records you created are the linchpin. You need to testify to what you’ve done.”
“She wouldn’t do this to me,” Eloise whispered.
“She did.”
Eloise turned to stagger toward the bench, but her knees gave out before she got there. She sank to the ground and curled over. She didn’t make a single sound as she rocked in the grass. It was impossible to doubt her. Margaret had used her own daughter in a criminal enterprise in a twisted game of revenge.
He knelt beside her. “You’ll be okay,” he said gruffly. “I’ll provide a lawyer for you. You won’t be punished for this. All you have to do is tell the truth.”
“And send my mother to jail?”
Nick grunted. Why Eloise should care what happened to Margaret was a mystery. “Maybe. That would be for a judge to decide.”
He helped Eloise up from the ground and onto the marble bench. Grass clippings clung to her skirt, and he swiped them away.
“She’s my mother,” Eloise whispered. “We never got along very well, but I’ve always wanted . . .” Her voice choked off, but she didn’t need to finish the sentence for Nick to understand. As a child, Eloise was so desperate for approval she would do anything for attention. When Margaret came asking for a favor, he didn’t doubt Eloise would have moved mountains to comply.
“She doesn’t deserve your loyalty,” he said. “A cat can give birth, but that doesn’t mean it will love its children.”
Eloise sagged even further, and when she spoke, her voice was so soft that he could barely hear it. “If I come forward, I’ll lose my job.”
“I’ll get you another one.”
She shook her head. “No firm in the world would hire an accountant who has confessed to falsifying records. Being an accountant is more than a job to me. It’s . . .” She gazed off into the distance, and this time her face took on a wistful softness of great beauty. “I grew up in a storm-tossed world. My family ignored me. I was shuttled from schools to distant relatives to a convent. And then one day I discovered mathematics, and suddenly the world made sense to me. Math is order and reason and logic. I understand the rules, and I am good at them. And it turned out the world needed people who can grind through endless pages of numbers. I love being needed. I love everything about this work.” Her voice trailed off, and it looked like she was going to be sick.
He put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll find you another job. I have a lot of influence in this city.”
“Nick, there are only six female Certified Public Accountants in the state, and I’m one of them. We had to fight hard to be taken seriously, because most men doubt a woman can balance their own grocery bill. And you want me to confess to being duped into carrying out a fraud? What will it do to those other women who have managed to become CPAs? I have to be perfect. We have to be perfect.”
She rose, and it looked like it took every ounce of her strength to stand upright. She drew a deep breath and raised her chin. “I’m sorry, Nick. I need to think about this for a while.”
She didn’t look back as she trudged across the lawn, heading toward the imposing building and a job she apparently loved more than common decency.
His eyes darkened. He didn’t really know Eloise. She’d been born into the lap of luxury but surrounded only with vipers. Maybe he couldn’t blame her for lacking a moral compass.
Two men ste
pped from behind the sycamore tree.
“Did you hear what she said?” Nick asked.
“We’ve got everything we need,” the police officer replied.
Was he any better than Eloise? He hadn’t known what he was going to hear this morning, but the odds were good that it would be damning, and he needed impartial witnesses to hear it. The police were the best shot he had, and he’d brought Eloise to this churchyard bench like a shepherd leading a lamb to slaughter.
“Are you going to arrest her?” It hurt even to ask the question, but he needed to know. If Eloise’s story was true, she might plead ignorance to what she’d done, but ignorance was no excuse in the eyes of the law.
“That will be for the district attorney to decide.”
Nick took everything he’d learned straight to his attorney, Vincent Ruskin. Although it ought to have been a simple matter to get Rosalind out of jail, the case straddled both New York and New Jersey lines, which complicated things, as did his desire to protect Eloise. She was a victim too, and he didn’t want to throw her to the wolves in the process of freeing Rosalind.
Which didn’t endear him to Rosalind’s brother. Gus had been attending every strategy meeting Nick held in his office, complete with a New Jersey lawyer and private investigator.
“Why can’t the police formally question Eloise?” Gus asked as he paced before the desk in Nick’s office. “Demand she answer their questions, and if she doesn’t, place her under arrest? They did as much to Rosalind.”
“Because they can’t find Eloise,” Nick ground out, doing his best to hold on to the ends of his fraying temper. The district attorney had ordered a search of Eloise’s office for corroborating paperwork. She was asked to leave the office during the search, but instead of waiting in the lobby, she headed straight to the train station and fled town.
Nick’s private investigator had reported that a woman matching her description bought a ticket to Kingston the day after their confrontation in the churchyard, which meant she was hiding out at Bruce Garrett’s mansion in upstate New York. The place was a literal fortress, and there would be no getting through to her unless Bruce wanted him there. So far, all Nick’s telephone calls had been refused.
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