The Smuggler's Gambit (Adam Fletcher Adventure Series Book 1)

by Sara Whitford

“Oh, really? I figured you must have. You know, since I actually first met her at your house, sir.”

  Rasquelle wrinkled his brow and cocked his head. “My house? When were you ever at my house?”

  “Your party, sir.”

  “The party,” he said. “Oh! I see. You met her at my party.”

  “Yes, sir. Wonderful party, too.”

  Rasquelle and Adam just stared at each other for a few seconds.

  “Is there anything else you’d like to know, sir?” said Adam.

  Rasquelle shook his head. Adam could detect the man’s frustration when he began speaking to him in the kind of voice one would use when talking to a small child. “No. Perhaps you’ve not been there long enough to know what sort of information would be desirable to me. We’ll not meet again this month, but I should think by next month you will have a better grasp of things, and perhaps you’ll be able to learn more that will be of use to me and to the cause of fair trade practices.”

  “I should hope I will have learned a great deal more by then, sir,” said Adam. “When should I expect to meet with you again?”

  “Let’s just plan to meet back here this same day, same time next month, shall we?”

  Adam nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll be here.”

  “Oh, and Adam, you wouldn’t think of concealing information from me, would you?”

  Adam wrinkled his brow. “Of course not, sir.”

  “I certainly hope not.”

  Adam smiled.

  Rasquelle looked like he was exerting quite a bit of effort for him to remain calm.

  “I want to make myself clear, Mr. Fletcher. If I ever find for any reason that I cannot trust you, you will find yourself in terrible trouble, and there will be no one who can help you.”

  Was that a threat? It took Adam a moment to register what the man was saying. Just when he was about to respond, Rasquelle continued.

  “And if you’re not around, Mr. Fletcher, who will be there to look after your mother?”

  The boy resisted every temptation to lunge for Rasquelle. Instead, he opted for strategy. “Sir, please let me assure you—and I told you this once before—that my word is as good as yours. And I can trust you, right, sir?”

  Rasquelle smiled. “Of course.” He nodded and excused himself, leaving the way he came through the kitchen. When Adam heard the door slam on the back side of the tavern, he knew the man was gone.

  After running upstairs to say good night to his mother, Adam came back downstairs and crept through the kitchen and looked out the small window beside the rear door. He wanted to be sure Rasquelle couldn’t be seen loitering around the building outside.

  When he felt sure the area was clear, he crossed the small kitchen garden behind the tavern to the tiny house where Valentine lived. He rapped on the front door in a special rhythm that he had always used as a little boy to let Valentine know it was him. He didn’t wait for the front door to be opened, though. He knew to run around to the back of the cottage, because that was the door where Valentine would expect him. It was a fun game they used to play. Adam would do his special knock on the front door, then mischievously run around to the back, only so that when Valentine would answer the front door, Adam could call to him from the back of the house. It didn’t take long for Valentine to catch on to what little Adam was doing, so he just started opening the back door when he heard the special knock. Sure enough, Adam would be there, quick and quiet. When he was a child, he would go into fits of giggles when Valentine opened the door to him.

  On this night there was nothing to laugh about, but Adam was thankful to have that system with Valentine. He didn’t want Rasquelle or one of his spies to possibly see him standing on the porch waiting for the door to open. Rasquelle would immediately suspect Adam was disclosing the details of their conversation.

  Valentine didn’t let the boy down. He still remembered that knock, and he knew to open the back door.

  “Rasquelle’s gone,” said Adam. “That man is dangerous, though. I think he’s worse than we could have ever imagined.”

  “Really? What did he say?”

  Adam told Valentine about Rasquelle’s threats.

  “What! He said all that?”

  Adam nodded. “Yes. I want you to look after my mother. I can take care of myself. Just please keep her safe, Valentine.”

  “Of course,” he replied. “I told you, I always have, I always will.”

  “I know, but this man, he’s evil. I really think he could be capable of anything.”

  “Well, he is up to something,” said Valentine. “Just keep your eyes open and be careful.”

  “I will. I’ve gotta get back to the warehouse and let Mr. Rogers and Boaz know what happened.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “WE NEED TO TALK,” SAID Adam as he burst into the warehouse living quarters. Emmanuel and Boaz, who were seated at the chess table intensely concentrating on a game of chess, both looked up.

  “What is it, boy?” said Emmanuel.

  “Rasquelle showed up at the tavern tonight. They were closing up, and he came in through the kitchen—Tim let him in.”

  “Who’s Tim?” said Boaz.

  “He works at the tavern. He belongs to Valentine.”

  “He’s a slave?” said Emmanuel.

  Adam nodded.

  “Why on earth did he let Rasquelle in through the kitchen?” Emmanuel asked.

  “Rasquelle told him that I was expecting to see him there. Tim didn’t know any better.”

  “What happened?” said Boaz.

  Adam crossed the room, pulled up a chair to the table, and proceeded to tell them as much as he could remember from the conversation with Rasquelle.

  “Did you tell him about the shipments coming in? The second dock?” said Emmanuel.

  “No!” said Adam. “But I did mention that your sloop left on Monday. I didn’t figure that would hurt anything.”

  “You didn’t tell him where it was headed, did you?” said Boaz.

  “No, of course not. I told him that nobody tells me much, and that I don’t ask questions.”

  Emmanuel and Boaz both nodded. To Adam they looked relieved.

  “He accepted my responses—this time. But he seemed suspicious and told me that he’d expect better information next time we meet.”

  “Next time? When will that be?” said Boaz.

  “He told me that in a month’s time I should be better acquainted with the goings-on at this place, and so he’d expect me to be able to provide him with better information.”

  “Did you agree to meet with him again?” said Emmanuel.

  Adam shrugged. “Well, I didn’t tell him no—of course I told him I’d meet with him next month. What could I say?”

  “Good boy,” said Emmanuel. “He might be a little suspicious of your loyalty to him, but at least you weren’t foolish enough to do or say anything confrontational.”

  “There is something that you need to know. It’s important,” said Adam. “He said someone told him they saw Martin and me over at the estate on Saturday.”

  At first no one said anything in response, but Adam could tell by the expressions on their faces that Boaz and Emmanuel were obviously disturbed at the news.

  “He knows about the dock there? The basement?” said Boaz.

  Adam shook his head. “I don’t think so. He asked me why we had been there. I just told him that Martin was Miss Laney’s cousin and that he had gone by to check on her while her guardian was away. I also said that there were some things she needed help with at her house. I told him we tended to them before we left.”

  “Do you think he believed you?” said Emmanuel.

  “I do. At least he didn’t give me any reason to think otherwise.”

  “We need to warn Miss Laney that she’s being watched,” said Boaz.

  Emmanuel nodded. “I think you’re right.”

  “You don’t think he’d have a spy just watching that place, do you?” said Adam. “I mean, I
told him we were only paying a family visit.”

  “Did he ask you about why you had accompanied Martin on a family visit?” said Boaz. “Because I sure would have.”

  Adam nodded. “Yes he did.”

  “And what did you tell him?” said Emmanuel.

  “I told him that I had met Miss Laney once before. I told him I had begged Martin to take me along so I could see her, and that you were gracious enough to let me go.”

  “Either he believed you and your clever responses have saved you, or he found your narrative questionable and will now ensure that he keeps someone posted outside the Martin estate to watch for anything suspect,” said Emmanuel.

  “Why would he find my story questionable?” said Adam.

  “You said Martin not only went by to check on her while her guardian was away but also to take care of some things around the place, right?” Boaz asked.

  “Yep. That’s exactly what I told him.”

  “Well,” said Boaz, “Laney Martin has enough servants to take care of any manual labor around the house. There’d be no need for Martin to have to do anything.”

  Emmanuel nodded. “That’s true. The only thing logical would have been a family matter, or perhaps an issue with the servants, but if you spent much time outside the property and Rasquelle’s spy spotted you there, then he’ll know your story isn’t the full truth of the matter.”

  Adam dropped his head onto his arms folded in front of him at the table. “Ugggh!” he groaned. “Why didn’t I think of that?” he said, his voice muffled by his arms.

  “It doesn’t matter now,” said Emmanuel. “We do need to inform Miss Martin that there may be someone watching the estate. She must be cautious. Boaz, have Martin go there first thing in the morning to warn her.”

  Boaz shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?” said Emmanuel.

  “Martin was just there Saturday. Rasquelle knows that. What reason would he have to go right back again tomorrow. Rasquelle would immediately suspect that he’s just going to warn her about all of this.” Boaz thought for a moment as he stroked his stubbly chin.

  “You go,” he said to Adam.

  Adam raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Me?”

  “That’s a very good idea, Boaz,” said Emmanuel.

  “Why me? I mean, I’d be happy to, but why me?” Adam asked.

  “Don’t you see?” said Boaz. “You told Rasquelle you had begged Martin to go over there with him so that you could see his cousin. Let’s let Rasquelle think you really are sweet on her.”

  Adam grinned.

  Emmanuel chuckled. “I don’t think that should be too much of a stretch.”

  “Maybe pick her some flowers on the way over,” said Boaz. “That way if anybody sees you they’ll figure you’re going over there to try to charm her.”

  “Alright,” said Adam, “but I don’t think I should go first thing in the morning. That would look suspicious. Why would you let me off from work to go take flowers to a girl?”

  “Fair point,” said Emmanuel. “Go in the afternoon, then. We risk her not knowing during the first few hours tomorrow, but I don’t imagine she’ll do anything that would give anything away.”

  “I doubt she would,” said Adam. “I’ll just plan to go at noon, if you let me take my break then.”

  Emmanuel nodded. “That’ll be fine. And you can even take my horse.”

  “Alright, so now we need to figure out what we’re going to do about the two shipments coming in.” Boaz looked to Emmanuel for a response.

  “I don’t foresee any problems with the Elizabeth Ella. She’s an English ship after all, so that would be of little interest to Richard Rasquelle.”

  “But what about the Dama?” said Boaz. “She’s from Cuba. Shouldn’t we try to keep her away from the Martin estate. Is there someplace else we can direct her when she arrives?”

  “Hmm . . .” Emmanuel rested his chin on his hand and thought for a moment. “You know what? I’m afraid there is no way we can reroute the Dama, but I think it will be alright, anyway. We can have our own men posted keeping watch for Rasquelle’s spies. The captain of the Dama is an old friend of mine, so if his ship is spotted docked at the Martin estate, we can just explain that he had come to town for a visit. No one even needs to know that he is making a delivery or picking up cargo. We’ll just need to get that bit of business done quickly and without being noticed.”

  Boaz was skeptical. “That won’t be easy.”

  “No, of course it won’t,” Emmanuel agreed, “but what do you think I should do? Sit here and fret about what might happen? There’s nothing we can do except try to keep an eye on Rasquelle’s spies, warn Miss Rocksolanah, and move the cargo off and on the Dama as quickly and quietly as possible.”

  Once the matter was settled, Adam stood and was about to excuse himself to go to bed. Just before he got to the door to the sleeping quarters, he decided to tell them about Rasquelle’s threat.

  “What do you think he meant by that?” asked Adam.

  “I don’t know, son,” said Emmanuel. “And let’s not try to find out.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  THE RIDE OVER TO LANEY Martin’s estate was a pleasant one in spite of the fact that Adam took the shorter route that cut through the woods to get there rather than riding along the water’s edge. That is, it was pleasant until he got about a mile from her house. Suddenly, he saw a fancy horse cart coming down the little lane in his direction. His heart sank when he realized who it was—Francis Smythe. Don’t tell me he was just at the Martin estate, Adam thought. But who else would he be going to visit so far from town?

  Apparently, Smythe must’ve seen him, too, because he gave Adam his typical smarmy grin as his horse trotted past. He couldn’t let that bother him too much right now. He was going to Laney’s house to take care of business, not on a social call. Suddenly, he wondered if Francis Smythe might have been Richard Rasquelle’s spy. He was at Rasquelle’s party, too, after all. His father was also the local customs agent. As Adam began trying to put the puzzle pieces together in his mind, he snapped the reins on the horse to encourage it to go faster.

  Once he finally arrived, Adam ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath before he pulled the cord by the door. If the circumstances were different, he’d have been excited about standing there on the big front porch with flowers waiting to see Laney Martin, but right now he was only focused on the task at hand.

  He winced as he looked down and noticed the spindly daisies and dainty purple and pink phlox he had picked on the way over had begun to wilt in the grasp of his calloused hand. He realized that if Smythe had seen the pitiful bouquet, he was likely laughing all the way back to town. There was no time to worry about that now, though.

  Within seconds Charles appeared at the door. “Mr. Fletcher,” he said. “Good day, sir. How may I help you?”

  “Good day,” said Adam. “I’m here to see Miss Laney. Is she here?”

  Charles nodded. “Wait here please,” he said, before disappearing into the house.

  Laney soon appeared at the door. “Mr. Fletcher, what a surprise,” she said.

  She was wearing a simple pale blue calico dress, but to Adam the girl was so beautiful he had nearly forgotten what had brought him there in the first place.

  He didn’t speak right away, so Laney said, “What are you doing here?”

  “Miss Laney,” he finally sputtered, “I apologize for the intrusion, but we need to talk.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. He had hoped she’d invite him inside, but when she didn’t, Adam realized he’d have to be more direct.

  “Look, please don’t misunderstand me, but I think we should speak inside.” He thrust out his arm and presented her with the flowers he had been squeezing in his left hand.

  She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him but saw he was insistent that she take them, so she did and then motioned for him to come inside. He nearly pushed
past her, and then as soon as they were safely in the house with the heavy oak door closed behind them, Adam crisscrossed the room and looked out the windows to see if he spotted anyone who might be watching the house. He realized at the very least that it was possible Smythe had followed him back to the house and could be watching them at that very moment. Even if he wasn’t Rasquelle’s spy, it would be just like Francis Smythe to try to pry in a situation like this just so he could use it to mock Adam later.

  As she watched him dart from here to there, she asked, “What on earth are you doing?”

  “Ma’am, I do apologize for all of this—sorry about the flowers, by the way—but I came to warn you that we think this estate’s being watched.”

  “What?” she exclaimed. “Who is we? And who would be watching this place? And why?”

  Adam indicated that she should follow him into the parlor.

  “Come in here. Let’s sit down,” he said, and motioned to the settee.

  “What is all this?”

  She wasn’t cooperating. She wasn’t going to sit next to him on the settee, and for that matter she hadn’t invited him into the parlor to begin with.

  “Please, there might be a man out there in the woods,” he said, tipping his head toward the window. “He could be watching us. Trust me on this. Just sit down with me.”

  “Where?” Laney tried to get a look out the window without looking too obvious.

  Adam was growing impatient. “Please, just sit down!”

  After giving him a stern look, she eventually sat right down beside him. The settee was situated in the center of the room and was clearly visible from windows on the north and east sides of the house. If anyone was watching from outside, they might not be able to see much detail inside the house, but Adam wasn’t going to take any more chances.

  If he had gone over there in an attempt to charm Laney Martin—and at least that’s what Adam hoped any spy would believe—he knew it wouldn’t be effective if she stiffly stood there talking to him in the grand home’s foyer. She needed to at least appear gracious.

  Adam was beginning to see things more like Boaz and Emmanuel, thinking two or three steps ahead.