“No, not yet,” she said as she suppressed a shiver.
“You’re cold,” he said as he wrapped his arm around her. “Let’s go. It’s much warmer inside.”
Her chill instantly banished, Madeline looked up at Jonah. “I’m fine now. Really. Let’s just keep looking at the stars a little longer, shall we?”
“Oh,” he said as he pressed an errant curl back into place behind her ear, “looking at the stars is dangerous for us, Madeline.”
“How so?” she asked with the beginnings of a smile. “It seems fairly safe to me.”
“Nothing about you is safe,” he whispered as he moved closer.
“Are you going to kiss me?” she whispered.
“Do you want me to?”
“You there! No one is supposed to be up there,” a familiar voice called from the porch below. “Whose voices am I hearing?”
Jonah leaned back against the wall and gave her an I-told-you-so look. “I am Detective Cahill of the Pinkerton Agency. Who are you?”
“Jonah? It’s Donovan. What are you doing on the roof?”
“Surveillance,” he said and then winked at Madeline.
“Alone?” he asked.
Jonah looked at Madeline and then up at the skies as if searching for an answer. Or perhaps his sanity. “No, Donovan,” he said. “I am not alone.”
“So you’ve brought backup, then. Good man. Carry on, then,” Detective Donovan said.
Madeline giggled, but Jonah was not amused. The chance to share a kiss under the stars had obviously passed. She sighed. “So it’s back to dancing, then?”
“I’m afraid so,” he said as he moved toward the corner of the house.
Madeline shifted positions and felt her dress tug. She tried again. Something was wrong.
“Jonah,” she whispered, but he had already disappeared around the corner. She tried moving again with the same result. “Jonah,” she repeated, this time a little louder.
Finally his face peered back around the corner. “What?”
She reached around to try and free her skirt from whatever held it. “I am stuck.”
Jonah’s face reflected exactly how Madeline felt about the matter. “How is that even possible, Madeline?”
“It is possible,” she said as she continued to try and free herself, “because it has happened. Beyond that I really cannot… oh!”
The dress gave way, and she tumbled forward. Once again, Jonah caught her before she landed two floors below on the lawn among the lawmen. She barely snagged the strings of her bag before it went tumbling as well.
From the sudden cool breeze in the vicinity of her backside, she knew exactly why she was free. A glance behind her revealed that the nail that had caught her dress now had a substantial fragment of her dress attached to it.
Madeline scrambled away from the Pinkerton detective, thankful for the shadows in this part of the roof for preserving her modesty. This was awful. Just awful.
Her breath caught, and not just because the stays from her corset had dug so deep she could barely move. She fought back tears.
“I am beginning to see how you ended up in that palm tree,” he said. “I just wonder how you’ve managed to stay alive this long. Something else I never knew when we were together, Madeline: Do you enjoy sliding off roofs, or do you prefer to jump?”
“It’s not funny, Jonah,” she said as she scrambled to think of a remedy for the situation.
Her dress was torn, and from the feel of it there was no way to hide the damage. Though Madame’s house and the third-floor room where Madeline would love to be right now were just across the street, there was no easy way to get there.
Either she must find a way to climb down from out here—and without palm trees or a ladder nearby, it was likely impossible—or she must figure out a way to walk down the stairs and out the front door without any of the guests noticing her predicament.
Madeline sighed and leaned her head back against the brick, absolutely certain that the situation could not get worse.
“Miss Latour, is that you?”
She opened her eyes again and followed the sound of the voice to a third-floor window just beyond the porch. Even in the dim light, there was no mistaking the face that smiled back at her.
“Mr. Townsend.”
Jonah suppressed a groan. “Townsend, what are you doing here?”
“Just doing my job,” he said as he lifted the window sash a little more to stick his head out. “Same as you.”
“I am an invited guest,” Jonah said, his jaw clenched. “I doubt you are.”
When Townsend didn’t respond, Jonah had his answer. “Donovan,” he called. “You still down there?”
“I am,” came the familiar voice from the porch below.
“We’ve got an uninvited guest up here. A reporter. Light hair, slender build, carrying a notebook. Northeast corner room on the third floor. I have a visual right now and would handle him myself but I am currently working on another problem.”
“That’s not funny,” the reporter said. “Look, I am just trying to see what kinds of articles I can write, but hey, I am still researching the source of that article you asked me about. This morning, though, I had thought to get an interview with the former president, but apparently the fact I voted for him was not enough to get on his schedule yesterday. This seemed like the best way to see him.”
Jonah heard a ruckus down on the lawn and leaned over to see the cause. When he spied the guest of honor and his security detail walking toward the street, he laughed as he turned back to the reporter.
“Well, Townsend, it looks like you’ve missed your chance. They’re escorting President Grant to his carriage right now.”
Disappointment showed on the man’s face. Then he smiled. “Oh well, I suppose I will just have to find another story to write.” He paused to leer at Madeline. “What exactly are you and the detective doing up here, Miss Latour? Has there been a break in the investigation, or were the two of you investigating something else? Like each other.”
Before Madeline could respond, Jonah cut in. “She has nothing to say to you, Townsend.”
“I’m afraid he’s correct,” Madeline said, although much more politely than Jonah had responded. “I would be very grateful if you would leave.”
“Oh.” A smile dawned on Townsend’s face. “Oh,” he repeated. “I see. You two are… that is, you’re out here for…” His grin interrupted his words. “So what we have here,” he continued, “is a man employed by the Pinkerton Agency and a reporter from the New Orleans Picayune conducting a covert liaison right here under the noses of half the city of Galveston and one former United States president.”
“Of all the nerve,” Madeline said as she wriggled closer to the wall. “You are wrong.”
“Am I? You two were engaged to be married a year ago and then that engagement was ended. I’m still working the sources I have to find out why, but I will, don’t you worry. So, see, I do my research.”
“Commendable,” Madeline said. “But again, you have it all wrong.”
Townsend smacked himself on the head with his palm. “Of course. Why didn’t I see it? Sure I do, honey.”
Anger rose as Jonah’s fists clenched. “If the word honey ever crosses your sorry lips in reference to Miss Latour again, I will make sure it is your last.”
Though the reporter’s expression showed fear, he soon realized there was a gap of space between the porch roof where Jonah was seated and the third-floor window across the way. In order for Jonah to reach him, he’d have to crawl around to the front of the home, climb back in the window, and then follow the corridor around the corner to the room where the reporter was hiding.
As mad as he was, Jonah was willing to do that. But he was not willing to leave Madeline up here alone.
“Ignore him, Madeline,” he told her when she looked his direction.
She nodded but continued to stare. “He’s going to put this in the paper,” she finally said
.
“I just might.” He looked down toward the front lawn and then back up at them. “And I have plenty of eyewitnesses to corroborate my story.”
Jonah looked past her to fix his eyes on the man from the Daily News. “If you do, you will have me to answer to, Townsend. And trust me, I won’t play nice this time. You will wish you never heard of either of us.”
Before the reporter could respond, he was snatched back from the window. Detective Donovan’s smiling face replaced the reporter’s.
“Thanks for the tip, Cahill,” he said. “This guy’s been pestering the men downstairs all day trying to get in. Don’t know how he got past them, but he won’t bother you anymore.”
“Thank you,” Jonah said.
Donovan remained in the window. “So, um, what exactly were you doing up here? I mean, I can see you two were investigating something. I just can’t tell exactly what.”
“I’m surprised you can’t, Mr. Donovan,” Madeline said. “Do you see that house across the street? The white one with the palms on either side?”
“I do.”
“The woman we are both employed by has rented that home. From our vantage point here, we are not only providing safety to an old woman left alone with only her staff to protect her, but we are also watching to see that no one goes in or out who might intend her harm.”
Jonah looked past his companion and offered a smile. “Yep,” he managed without laughing. “All of that and helping you catch a trespasser.”
Donovan looked like he swallowed a fly. “Well, all right, then. Carry on.”
When the detective had disappeared from the window, Jonah looked back over at Madeline. “Providing safety to an old woman left alone? Where did that come from?”
She smiled sweetly. “Actually, before I became stuck to the roof, I was looking over at Madame’s home and wondering whether a light that is on should be. So, I did not tell a lie. If someone had gone in or out of there since we have been up here, we would have seen the person.”
He looked over and saw several lamps lit in windows on the third floor. Other than that, the building was completely dark. “Unless the person decided to go out the back door and down the alley.”
“Yes, well,” she said as she frowned. “I guess there’s that.”
Jonah shrugged. “If you think there’s a light on that shouldn’t be, then it is my duty as an employee of Mrs. Smith to go and check on it. I believe we can skip the dancing. I know my feet would appreciate it.”
She nodded. “I suppose, given the fact that my dress is no longer intact.”
His eyes narrowed. “What exactly does that mean, Madeline?”
“It means,” she said slowly, “that certain portions of this roof are very cold.”
He thought a minute and then shook his head. “So when you were stuck?”
“Yes. I became unstuck, but a certain part of the back of my dress remained behind.” She nodded to a nail on the roof that had a patch of cloth the same color as her dress wound around it. “And that is the situation.”
He leaned over to snatch the fabric from the nail. “I don’t guess you can just put it back.”
“Hardly. Even if I had needle and thread, which I do not, the location of the… the situation is quite impossible for me to reach, and I assure you I will not allow you to help.”
“Oh,” he managed as he tried not to laugh.
“You are not helping,” she snapped. “Somehow I need to get from where I am here to where that light is on over at Madame’s home without revealing my, well, situation. Since you are a highly trained Pinkerton agent, do you have any suggestions?”
He thought a minute. “I do. Scoot over here closer,” he said as he tucked the fabric square into his pocket. “We’re going back downstairs the same way we came in.”
“Jonah, that’s not possible considering the damage I’ve done to this dress.”
“Leave it to me.” He nodded toward the corner of the porch roof. “I’m going back inside. You follow me. I promise if I see anyone in those windows, I will warn you.”
She looked skeptical but, to Jonah’s surprise, did not argue. He made his way to the window and then climbed inside to wait for Madeline to appear.
Madeline edged her way around the building, acutely aware that her ruined dress was in plain sight of anyone else who might be hiding in the third-floor rooms behind her. How in the world did she keep getting into such messes?
She turned the corner and found Jonah waiting for her inside. If her corset had allowed, she might have taken in a deep breath of relief. As it was, she merely made the attempt.
“Come on inside, the coast is clear,” he said as he extended his arms to her, “but be sure and keep your, um, situation out of sight as you do.”
“Very funny.” She climbed in, being careful to show only the front side of her dress to him as her feet landed on the carpet.
Jonah handed her his coat. “Put this on. You said you were cold, so that’s what we will tell anyone who dares to ask.”
She threaded the bag off her arm and handed it to him then shrugged into the coat. Instantly the feeling of warmth and the scent of fresh soap and something woodsy enveloped her. Even better, the length of the coat reached all the way to the back of her knees, providing ample coverage for the missing fabric of her dress.
Handing her the bag, Jonah gave her an appraising look. “Ready?”
Madeline tucked her bag into the jacket’s interior pocket and nodded. “Ready.”
Jonah offered his arm and ushered her toward the staircase. “I know from experience you’re generally hopeless at following directions,” he said then grinned when she made a face. “But I want you to walk down those stairs like you own the place. Do you understand?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“I want you to have your head held high and not give a care for what anyone thinks of you. Just walk. I promise that’ll settle most of the tongues that want to wag. If you act weak, they’re going to pounce.”
“So just like I own the place,” she repeated. “Got it.”
Squaring her shoulders, Madeline called on every ounce of ability she learned in the one theater class Papa allowed her to take at the convent. While her expertise was limited to acting as one of the women at the tomb of Jesus on resurrection day, she thought she just might be able to manage this I-own-the-place performance.
Giving Jonah a nod and a quick smile, she allowed him to escort her down to the second-floor landing. From where they stood, Madeline could see the guests still milling about below. A pair of young ladies came hurrying up the stairs to press past them, neither bothering to pay any attention.
Madeline made a quick check of their hair and eye color. One blond, one brunette. Both had blue eyes.
“See,” Jonah said. “I told you so.”
“And none were our suspect,” she added.
“Exactly,” was his quick response.
With a nod, they were off again. Each step brought the noise of the crowd louder until they reached the first-floor landing. Madeline let out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and then stepped down into the throng of guests.
Owing to the size of the home, the door was quite a distance from where she stood. Still, they had arrived undetected on the same floor as the exit, and that was something to be celebrated.
Linking arms with her, Jonah nodded toward the door. They made it halfway across the room without drawing attention. Then someone called Jonah’s name.
He paused to turn around to speak to their host. “And who is this lovely lady?” Mr. Brown asked, turning his attention to Madeline.
“Madeline Latour,” she said as she managed a smile worthy of their host. “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Mr. Brown clasped his hand on Jonah’s shoulder. “Come join us,” he said. “I’ve been listening to Judge Harvey advocate his plan for deepening the harbor at Sabine Pass for the last thirty minutes. Surely y
ou’ve got a more amusing tale to tell than that.” His gaze swept the length of Jonah and then did the same to Madeline. “In fact, I’m certain of it.”
“As much as I would enjoy that, sir, I am afraid I am going to have to decline. My friend here, Miss Latour, has caught a chill and I need to get her home.”
“Oh no,” he said. “Such a pity. I had hoped to speak to both of you regarding an investigation I have learned that you are conducting right here in my home.”
“Investigation?”
He chuckled. “Yes, well I don’t suppose you would realize I knew, but I have heard of the thing you are investigating for my esteemed neighbor, and I do think perhaps I might have some information to offer.”
“What sort of information?” Madeline said, no longer caring if she drew stares as she fumbled for the notebook in her bag.
“Well now,” he said. “It all goes back to the rose garden my wife does love so much.” He leaned closer. “The gardeners have found interesting things there.”
“Treasure?”
Mr. Brown chuckled. “Perhaps the occasional coin. But the most interesting is the man we found hiding out there when our security fellow did his check in the middle of the night a few days ago. He would not give his name and said he was supposed to be watching the Smith home, but he gave no details as to who was paying him.”
Jonah frowned. “And this was a few days ago?”
“Oh yes,” he said.
“What did you do with him?”
“Why, I suppose our security fellow turned him over to the authorities.” Mr. Brown paused to look beyond Jonah. “There he is. You can ask him yourself.”
“Donovan?” Jonah asked him.
“Yes, that’s him.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jonah said, shaking his hand. Madeline echoed his thanks and then followed Jonah toward the center of the room where Detective Donovan had been captured by a young lady insistent on challenging him to dance with her.
“Oh, look, there’s my fellow Pinkerton agent,” he said to her as he made good on his escape. “Thank you,” he added when they had reached the door. “Why are you dressed like that?” he said to Madeline.
My Heart Belongs in Galveston, Texas Page 16