by Jen Turano
As Lucetta stared back at them in clear delight, the carriage turned off the main road and began jostling over ruts, coming to a stop a few moments later. Everett was out the door in a split second, helping Millie and then Lucetta to the ground before he took them by the hand and headed for the docks.
They checked every boat in the harbor, but the Adoring Violet was nowhere to be found.
Pulling her and Lucetta beside him, Everett headed for his own yacht, bellowing loudly that he needed to board. A plank was lowered almost immediately, and as Everett talked to the captain, a man who looked as if he’d just been woken from a sound sleep, preparations to pull anchor began immediately.
Sinking into a chair on the deck, Millie waited until Everett and Lucetta joined her and then lifted her chin. “What are we going to do if we don’t find Mr. Victor in Boston?”
“Where else would he go?” Lucetta asked slowly.
“Well, I’m not sure, but considering he is an attorney and must know that kidnapping is a grave offense, don’t you think he might expect us to follow him to Boston and decide to head somewhere else?”
Everett rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re exactly right, Millie, but since we don’t know where else to begin looking for the children, we’ll start in Boston. I had the captain send a boy off with a message for Abigail, telling her we didn’t find the children at the docks. I’m sure that won’t relieve any of the anxiety she’s feeling, but at least she’ll know what city we’re heading for.” He blew out a breath. “If we don’t find them in Boston . . . Well, we’ll worry about that when the time comes.”
Settling back in the chair, Millie shivered as the sea breeze picked up, but before she could even comment on the chilly wind, Mr. Andrews, the steward she’d met when she’d first traveled to Newport, was suddenly standing in front of her, handing her a blanket. Before she could do more than smile her thanks at the man, Everett was pulling his chair closer to her, even as he sent Mr. Andrews a rather knowing smile.
With a shake of his head, Mr. Andrews actually returned Everett’s smile, released a sigh of obvious disappointment, and looked to where Lucetta was sitting right as his mouth dropped open. Instead of handing Lucetta the blanket he was still holding in his hand, he thrust it Millie’s way and made a hasty retreat.
“I would love to say that doesn’t happen often, but . . .” Lucetta smiled a small smile, took the blanket Millie held out to her, and settled into her chair.
Silence descended over the deck as everyone seemed to get lost in their own thoughts. Leaning her head back, Millie gazed at a sky filled with stars, and reached out to God. He would guide them . . . and hopefully keep those precious children safe.
Closing her eyes, she lifted her heart in prayer.
By the time they reached Boston, docked Everett’s yacht, found a carriage to hire, and inquired at the Victors’ home, the morning was completely gone.
Millie had not been able to catch much sleep, and given the weariness on Everett’s face, as well as Lucetta’s, she assumed they hadn’t slept much either.
“At least we know that Mr. Victor came back to Boston,” Lucetta said as the rented carriage trundled down another Boston street. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited to see a boat before. The sight of the Adoring Violet anchored in the Boston harbor had goose bumps traveling down my arms.”
“But unless his entire household staff is lying, neither he nor Mrs. Victor have been home for almost a week,” Everett added, raking a hand through hair that was now completely standing on end.
“They’ve taken the children to their old home,” Millie said again. “I know they have.”
Everett lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a quick kiss on it. “I hope you’re right, but I have to admit, I have doubts about that. It’s too obvious. And as you said, Mr. Victor has to know he’s broken the law by stealing away the children.”
“It might be too obvious, but . . . I just have a feeling that’s where we’ll find them.”
Looking out the carriage window, Millie took in the tree-lined street and the dignified houses spread out along that street, each house with a large lawn, while a dense forest ran the length of the neighborhood. When the carriage began to slow, she turned back to Everett. “You told the driver to let us off a few houses away from Fred’s house?”
“I did.”
“Good. We don’t want to allow Mr. Victor an opportunity to flee if he does turn out to be here.”
When the carriage pulled to a stop a few moments later, everyone climbed out. Millie waited as Everett gave the driver further instructions, and then they began walking down the street—Millie hobbling just a bit because her sparkly shoes had begun pinching her toes.
“Don’t you think the neighbors are going to find three people strolling down the street in formal attire a little odd?” Lucetta asked.
Millie’s lips curved. “Probably, but it wasn’t as if we had time to change.”
Falling silent when Everett slowed his pace, Millie glanced to the handsome house sitting back from the street. It was three stories high and made of red brick, and even though the drapes were firmly drawn and the house had a slightly abandoned air to it, she could tell it was a home that had known much love. There were flower boxes attached to every window, and the porch held inviting chairs with cushions that were worn yet comfy looking.
“I hope the spare key is where I left it,” Everett whispered. He strode over to the side of the house, ducked around the corner, and reappeared a moment later holding up a key. As they stood by the front door, he blew out a breath and suddenly looked a little . . . determined.
“I want you and Lucetta to wait out here for me. I’ll come get you after I make sure it’s safe.”
Lucetta let out a snort. “Not likely. If you haven’t figured this out yet, Everett, Millie and I are not fainting flowers, willing to stay back while the brave, brawny hero scouts out the dangerous situations. Besides, you might need us—especially since it seems someone really is here.” She nodded to the door. “The door’s cracked open, which makes that key in your hand unnecessary now.”
Millie’s nerves immediately began to jangle as Everett slowly pushed open the door and stepped into the house. Following him a second later, they moved down the hallway, splitting up to check different rooms. Feeling more and more unsettled with each empty, linen-draped room she looked into, Millie reached the end of the hall and stepped through another door, completely taken aback by the sight that met her eyes.
Whatever she’d been expecting to see, it had not been finding the children tied to straight-backed chairs, with . . . Mr. Victor and his wife tied right beside them.
“Good heavens, what is going on?” she asked, abandoning any attempt at caution when she noticed the tears streaming down Rose’s face.
“Run, Miss Millie, run,” Elizabeth yelled. “He’ll be back any minute, and you have to get . . .”
Millie felt Everett come right up behind her, but as she glanced over her shoulder, she found him looking furious, and then Lucetta was suddenly thrust forward. Looking past them, she saw a thin man wearing gold-rimmed spectacles right behind Lucetta, carrying not one, but two pistols in his hands and smiling back at her.
“How delightful, more guests. I must say I wasn’t expecting additional company, but . . . into the parlor with you, if you please, and do hurry. I have a vast amount of things on my schedule today, although I think that schedule is going to get completed faster than I thought, now that I have people I can ask questions of instead of searching this house and the barn on my own.”
The man craned his neck and nodded at Mr. Victor. “Imagine my delight when Mr. Victor just happened to bring the children back to their old home just as I was becoming incredibly frustrated that my search has not been going very well at all. Why, if you ask me, it’s one of those delicious coincidences we’re only fortunate to see once or twice in a lifetime.” The man released a laugh that held a note of clear insanity
in it.
Millie soon found herself tied to a chair, Lucetta tied to the chair right next to her, and Everett secured to the leg of a table.
“There, all safe and snug.” The man picked up his pistols and moved away from Everett. He smiled around the room, his gaze lingering on Lucetta.
Lucetta held the man’s gaze for a long moment, before her eyes widened, then closed, then snapped back open. “You’re Mr. Franklin Robinson, aren’t you? The mad inventor who sold my theater faulty electric lights.”
The man presented Lucetta with a bow. “I’ve heard rumors about that ironclad memory of yours, Miss Plum, and do allow me to say I simply adore watching you take the stage.” His smile dimmed. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid you won’t be taking the stage ever again. It’s a shame you recognized me, but don’t fret over that. I wouldn’t have left any of you breathing, even if you hadn’t just told everyone my name.”
He used one of the pistols to scratch his nose. “I’m much too savvy to leave loose ends lying about, which is why I’m back in Boston—to clear up the last of the loose ends.”
“You’re going to . . .” Millie shot a look to the children before she returned her attention Mr. Robinson. “Do away with us?”
“I wish that wasn’t the case, but I have no intention of going to jail, or of being hunted for the rest of my life, so . . . sorry.”
“But . . . why?”
Mr. Robinson shrugged. “Fred Burkhart was supposed to endorse my electric lights. However, the man turned out to be far too curious for his own good and ran numerous experiments on them. When he discovered the lights weren’t perfect quite yet, given that some of them would burst unexpectedly into flames, he refused to give me additional funds—and was going to go public with his findings. I couldn’t very well allow him to do that, not considering how much money people were throwing my way as they purchased box after box of my lights. So . . . I had to put a stop to him once and for all.”
“I thought he died while testing a new buggy,” Everett said.
“There was nothing wrong with that buggy, although I do feel slightly bad for the inventor of that creation. . . . He’s been under quite a bit of scrutiny since Fred and Violet were found dead in his invention.”
Elizabeth’s face turned completely white. “You killed Daddy and Mommy,” she whispered. “You’re a. . . . monster, a. . . .”
Mr. Robinson sauntered across the room and slapped Elizabeth squarely across the face. “Shut up.”
Millie shot a glance to Everett and found him struggling against the ties that bound him. His eyes were filled with rage, but before she could warn him not to make a scene, especially since Mr. Robinson still had possession of the guns, Mr. Robinson let out a laugh that had the hair standing straight up on the back of Millie’s neck.
“I didn’t relish the nasty business I was forced to enact. Although . . . once a person has taken one life—or two, as the case may be—it’s much easier to contemplate further deaths, but back to business.” He strode to the middle of the room and studied the children for a long moment before he swiveled around and arched a brow at Mr. Victor.
“I’ve been here for days, going through all of the ledgers Fred left here, as well as the ones I took from your office, Mr. Victor. I also helped myself to a bit of your mail as well—although that really had nothing to do with me. I was just curious to see who’d been writing you. However, I have not found the documents I know Fred made up, itemizing the problems with my electric lights. Those documents, I’m sure, are . . . dated. If word gets out I knew there were problems with the lights before that theater Miss Plum works in caught fire, or the other fires that have been caused by my lights, well . . . it won’t be pretty for me. That’s why I’ve returned to Boston and the scene of the crime, so to speak. I need those documents now, before people at Miss Plum’s theater start turning nasty.”
“I never saw a document regarding faulty electric lights,” Mr. Victor said slowly.
Mr. Robinson tapped one of the pistols against his leg. “Hmm . . . I thought Fred was becoming suspicious of you—that suspicion completely my fault since I led him to believe you were fully behind my invention. Perhaps, when Fred started getting the idea someone was out to harm him—those carriages trying to run a person down in the streets more than once can bring those suspicions to mind—he began wondering if you and I just might be . . . in cahoots.”
“That explains why Fred made up a new will,” Everett said.
“I was never in a partnership with this man,” Mr. Victor said, catching Everett’s eye. “If Fred would have only told me of his concerns, I—”
“You would already be dead,” Mr. Robinson interrupted. “I expect his suspicions are what sent you off on that worldwide trip. But . . . the day is growing short, and I’m on a tight schedule. I need to know where that document is.”
Mr. Victor shook his head. “I told you—I never saw a document regarding your lights.”
Mr. Robinson raised a gun, and for a second, Millie thought he was going to shoot Mr. Victor. Instead, to her horror, he turned and leveled the gun on Rose.
“Children, from what I saw, all of you were very close to your father. Which means, he probably told you everything.”
“They’re just children,” Everett said, his voice decidedly lethal. “Leave them alone.”
“Oh, I won’t shoot them—at least not yet—but I have the strangest feeling they, or at least one of them, knows where that document I’m looking for is.” Mr. Robinson nodded to Elizabeth. “Well?”
Shaking her head, Elizabeth blinked back tears, her face bearing a distinct handprint where Mr. Robinson had slapped her. “I don’t know. I never saw Daddy put a document anywhere except in his safe. Did you check there?”
“Of course.” Mr. Robinson turned to Rose, who simply shook her head, apparently too frightened to even speak. Nodding politely to the little girl, he directed his attention to Thaddeus, who was glaring back at him and looking stubborn.
“That leaves you, dear boy. Do you know where your Daddy stashed that pesky document?”
Thaddeus little lips quivered, he opened his mouth, but then he snapped it shut.
“Ah, you do know, don’t you?” Mr. Robinson smiled, moved in front of Thaddeus, ruffled Thaddeus’s hair, then, calm as you please, turned the gun on Rose again and began pulling back the trigger.
“Don’t shoot her!” Thaddeus yelled.
Lowering the gun, Mr. Robinson quirked a brow. “I won’t if you tell me what I want to know. Did you see your daddy hide what I’m looking for in the barn?”
With his face wet with tears, Thaddeus shook his head. “I didn’t see him hide anything in the barn, but he buried a box out in the forest. He told me not to tell anyone unless it was . . . necessary he said, but I didn’t know what that meant.” Thaddeus rubbed his nose. “Daddy wanted to mail it, but . . . he said something about running out of time. The box is under a big tree that Daddy carved a cross into, clear past my treehouse and straight back into the forest.”
“Wonderful.” Mr. Robinson ruffled Thaddeus’s hair again before he made for the door. “If all of you will excuse me for just a moment, I need to see if young Thaddeus is right and if what I seek is buried out past his treehouse.” With that, Mr. Robinson disappeared from sight.
“I hope Daddy—if he’s watching us right now—isn’t mad at me for telling,” Thaddeus whispered.
“Of course he wouldn’t be mad at you, darling,” Millie said softly. “You’ve been very brave, and now I understand why you buried your pants.”
“Daddy told me it’s what you do when you don’t want anyone to find your things, or when you don’t have time to mail them to someone else.”
“Which is all very enlightening, but we need to figure out how to get out of here,” Mr. Victor said. “He’ll be back, and I think all of us know exactly what he has planned.”
“Which is why it’s a good thing I am proficient at getting untied—as are t
he children.” Millie exchanged a look with Elizabeth, who was smiling just a bit. As Millie began twisting her hands, Elizabeth began rocking her chair back and forth, using her toes to help her hop her chair right up next to Rose.
“So that’s how you did it,” Millie said, slipping her hands free a second later, as Rose’s binding fell free as well, and Elizabeth grinned. “Ingenuous, you’re simply ingenuous, darling.”
Hurrying across the room, Millie soon had Everett untied, and before many minutes had passed, everyone was free and standing on their feet.
“You and Lucetta get the children to safety, Millie,” Everett said. “I’ll go deal with Mr. Robinson, although it would be nice if I had a weapon.”
Elizabeth scampered over to him and tugged on his sleeve. “Daddy kept guns in a concealed safe behind a bookshelf in the library.” She smiled. “I know the combination.”
“Of course you do,” Everett said, taking her hand as they rushed out of the room.
“You go with Miss Longfellow and Miss Plum,” Mr. Victor said to his wife, a woman who was looking terrified and had yet to speak a single word. “I’m going with Everett.”
Millie narrowed her eyes on the man. “I hardly trust you to have Everett’s back, given that you stole the children away from him and are responsible for landing those children in this troubling circumstance.”
Mr. Victor exchanged a look with his wife before he shook his head at Millie. “We didn’t steal the children from anyone, Miss Longfellow. Miss Dixon sought me out as I was preparing to leave Newport and told me Everett had had a change of heart. She said, since they were soon to be married, Everett didn’t want the burden of raising three children, so bade me come and fetch them.”
Lucetta let out a snort. “You didn’t think fetching them in the middle of the night from a ball was a little suspicious?”
“Miss Dixon said Everett wanted an opportunity to say a proper good-bye to the children, and wanted to allow them the treat of watching him propose to her during the ball.”