In response Clancy’s eyes grew guarded, his mouth tight. Soon he and his wife excused themselves, leaving Adele to ask Tad what that had been about.
“Let me walk you to your room and I’ll tell you on the way.”
Adele readily agreed. Jocelyn came along with them but was soon sidetracked when a little girl of about six came running up to her the moment they exited the dining saloon. Jocelyn introduced the child to Tad and Adele as Daisy.
“Daisy and I have become great friends, haven’t we?” she asked the little girl.
“We played shifflebird!” she replied, excitedly.
“You mean shuffleboard,” Jocelyn corrected with a smile.
“Mommy said we can play one more time before bed. Can you come too?”
The girl’s mother gave a wave from across the lobby.
Turning to Tad and Adele, Jocelyn asked if they would mind, and when they told her to go ahead, she took the delighted child’s hand and they headed off.
“Children certainly take to your cousin,” Tad said, holding out his arm for Adele.
“And she to them,” she replied, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow.
They walked to the staircase and began to descend slowly, side by side, talking as they went. Tad seemed to have something on his mind, and soon he brought up Brennan & Company.
“Your father is an outstanding leader,” he told her, “but he needs to plan for the company’s future and his eventual succession. I have always hoped to fill that role, but since I met you, my dream has been altered somewhat.”
“Oh?”
Pausing at the C deck landing, he turned to face her and took her by both hands.
“We could do it together, Adele,” he whispered eagerly. “Can’t you just picture us, you and me, at the helm of the company? I know we have only just met this week, but I feel a deep connection to you. I think we are each what the other needs. Smart, business minded, hardworking. I know your father well, and he would be pleased with such a union.”
Adele was dumbfounded. She was flattered, of course, but he had to know it was far too soon for such talk. Gracefully removing her hands from his, she said, “Is this a business proposal or a declaration of your romantic intentions?”
He grinned. “Both, I suppose.”
Her mind was racing. While she needed to set the man straight, she also didn’t want to humiliate him.
“I’m afraid it’s a bit too soon for either,” she said after a moment. “Surely you must see the…inappropriateness…of your words at this time.”
His grin began to fade. They were blocking the stairwell, so she took him by the arm and directed him toward the promenade. It was crowded, however, so he didn’t respond until they had reached the other end and stepped into the vestibule above the aft staircase.
“This is how I work,” he told her. “I’m decisive. I get things done. And if I see something I want, I go for it, plain and simple.”
“What you call decisive, some might call impulsive,” she replied as they started down the aft stairs. “I’m afraid you’re moving much faster than I am comfortable with, Tad. That doesn’t mean I don’t like you. Just that you need to slow down a bit.”
He nodded, but she could tell by the set of his jaw that he wasn’t happy about it. They were both quiet for a long moment. Adele tried to think how she might change the subject to lighten the mood.
“Those were lovely dinner companions you arranged for us tonight,” she said, again slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. “The O’Connells were sweet, and I thoroughly enjoyed meeting the Browns.”
“I’m glad you were pleased.”
“So tell me what you were talking about with Mr. McConnell,” she continued lightly, ignoring his petulance. “His ‘only way out,’ you called it. What was that about?”
With a deep sigh, Tad seemed to shake off his bad mood. Glancing around, he leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Let’s just say that between a spill of kerosene from a wobbly lamp and a carelessly dropped cigar, that place could go poof real fast. Pianos and violins would make excellent kindling. As long as he has good fire insurance, that’s probably his only option left.”
Adele was dumbfounded. She pulled her arm loose and faced him.
“Option? That’s not an option, that’s a crime. No wonder the poor man looked so upset when you suggested it!”
Tad rolled his eyes. “Come on, Adele, don’t hide your head in the sand. This is the real business world now. It’s not all nicey-nicey and helping the immigrants. Sometimes you have to make choices that save what otherwise would be lost. Mr. O’Connell has a disaster on his hands that could ruin him. I was merely suggesting a last-ditch way to keep that from happening. Don’t you know how huge the insurance companies are? They could easily handle such a small payout. If you think about it, it’s his own money anyway, with all the premiums he’s paid to them over the years.”
Adele couldn’t believe her ears.
“I don’t want to have any part of this,” she said, shaking her head. “And I am sure my father wouldn’t be pleased to know this is the kind of advice his company is dispensing.” With that she turned and continued down the stairs alone, much more quickly now.
After a beat she could hear Tad protesting as he followed behind.
“It is not what you think, Adele. That wasn’t official advice from Brennan & Company. I was just speaking one buddy to another. There’s a difference.”
Adele reached F Deck and moved quickly down the corridor toward her room. Halfway there, Tad caught up with her and grabbed her by the arm, stopping her progress.
“Please listen to me,” he implored, “I would never sanction such an action. I just think that if you are going to be in the business world, you had better understand the full realm of what goes on out there. There is no need to talk to your father about this.”
Adele took a deep breath, trying hard to control her anger.
“Let me go,” she said softly, refusing even to look at him. “I would like to retire for the evening.”
“Fine. Sorry.”
Tad released her arm, but instead of going away, he fell into step beside her and walked with her the rest of the way down the corridor to her stateroom. As she paused at the door and pulled out her room key, she said a curt goodnight and turned to slip the key into the lock.
The lock was temperamental, however, and before she could get it to work, she was shocked to feel Tad’s body suddenly pressing against hers, forcing her against the solid door, his hands encircling her waist from behind.
“I’m crazy about you,” he whispered, burying his face into the side of her neck and kissing her furiously. “Why don’t we forget about this whole mess and instead spend time getting to know each other better.”
She tried to pull away but he was stronger than she. Only by stamping her heel down onto the top of his foot was she finally able to wrench herself loose from his grasp and step away. Why was the hallway empty now, of all times? Where was her steward? Where were the other passengers?
“How dare you! How could you possibly—”
“Grow up, Adele,” he said, moving toward her menacingly. “I’m not leaving until things are settled between us. I need to know you’re not mad at me, that at least we can still be friends.”
She looked up at him, eyes wide. “Friends? Since when does a friend force himself upon another friend?”
“You brought that on yourself. I felt sure you had feelings for me. If those feelings weren’t genuine, then I’m afraid you’ve been leading me on.”
Adele’s heart was thumping furiously. “Listen, I don’t know who you think you are,” she hissed, “but I find you rude, inappropriate, and extremely unethical. I don’t want to associate with you in any manner ever again! Does that make it clear enough for you?”
She heard a noise from down the hall and turned to see a steward walking in their direction. Unfortunately, he paused halfway up to knock on someone els
e’s cabin door and then, when it was opened, stepped inside.
Tad seized the moment to move even closer, again pressing himself against Adele. He placed his hands against the wall on each side of her and then leaned forward until his lips were at her ear.
“If you say a word about this to anyone,” he whispered, “I will say that you were the one who threw yourself at me. Even Jocelyn will believe it. She’s seen you flirting with me all day. And don’t imagine for one second that your father wouldn’t believe me, either. He completely trusts me—and he hardly knows you at all. You make trouble for me, and I’ll make sure he sends you back to Belfast so fast you won’t know what hit you. You can live out your days walking the streets of that city for all I care.”
His threat finished, Tad stepped back and dropped his arms just as the steward emerged from the cabin and continued in their direction.
“Is everything okay, miss?” the man asked, looking doubtfully from Adele to Tad and back.
“Yes, thank you,” Adele replied. “But I believe this man has lost his way. Could you please escort him to his own stateroom?”
“Certainly. Come with me, sir. What’s your stateroom number?”
As the two men headed off down the hall, Adele finished unlocking the door with trembling hands, slipped inside, and closed it tight. Turning to lean back against the solid surface, she could feel her entire body shaking. Carefully, she moved to the wash basin, filled it with water, and splashed it onto her face. That didn’t help. Shivering, she quickly changed into her nightgown, climbed up to her berth, and slid under the covers.
Pulling them tightly to her chin, she lay there staring at the ceiling, overcome with exhaustion and wondering if this trip would end up being the biggest mistake of her life.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT
Kelsey could hear the disappointment in the men’s voices, but for some reason she wasn’t nearly as let down as she should have been. She didn’t have the bonds, that was true, but she did have Adele’s whole story, in her own words. With this diary they might be able to prove the facts about the woman’s identity. More importantly, Kelsey thought as she knelt there on the closet floor and quickly but carefully flipped through the pages, she could finally learn the truth about the woman she’d kept on a pedestal her whole life. Did Adele really belong up there? Or had she been a fraud all along?
“Uh-oh,” Flash said.
Kelsey’s head jerked up. “Uh-oh what?”
“Kelsey, I think you need to get out of there.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Hyper surveillance.”
“In English, please?”
“Somebody’s watching what we’re doing. Electronically. The trackers are being tracked.”
She pressed herself farther into the closet. “Is someone coming up here after me?” she hissed.
“There’s been no activity that I can see, but I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all. Somebody knows we’re poking around—and from what I can tell, they are letting us get away with it.”
“Kelsey, come on out,” Cole added. “Right now.”
“On my way,” she replied.
Quickly, she closed the safe door and gave the dial a twirl. Setting the diary and the copies of the bonds aside, she hastily shoved the records back onto the shelves. Once she was done, she looked around to be sure she hadn’t left anything and closed the door to the closet.
Nervous about her possessions and wanting her hands free in case she had to defend herself, Kelsey slid the photocopies and the diary down the front of her blouse until they came to rest where it was tucked in at her waistline. Then, clutching the flashlight in one hand, she left her father’s office, moving as fast as she could along the eerie hallways and through the conference room, grabbing the iPad as she went past and then racing down five flights of stairs.
By the time she stepped out the back door of the building and pulled it shut behind her, the van was idling just half a block away, waiting for her. She quickly walked straight to it, climbed in, and they drove off.
“Are you okay?” Cole asked.
“I think so.” Kelsey’s heart thumped furiously in her chest. “Give me a minute.”
“You did a great job,” Flash told her as she handed him the iPad.
“You sure did.” Cole reached out and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“Thanks.” Kelsey took a few more calming breaths and turned slightly away to pull the photocopies and the diary from her shirt. “These are the copies of the bonds,” she said, handing them over.
“Terrific.” Cole turned on a penlight and hunched over the papers, silent as he studied the top sheet and then examined each one in turn.
“Kelsey, what’s the best way to get to your place from here?” Thriller asked, and she named off the three turns that would get her home.
“Well, this is definitely proof that the bonds exist,” Cole said once she was done.
“And proof that they were in Gloria’s possession late Monday night,” Flash added.
“But if we can’t find the actual bonds...” Her voice trailed off.
Everyone was quiet for a long moment as they rode along Battery Place.
“Here’s what I suggest,” Cole said, turning to face her. “I know a scripophilist in Chinatown—”
“A what?”
“A scripophilist.” Cole smiled. “That’s someone who collects antique stocks and bonds.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, why don’t we take these copies and show them to him first thing in the morning? At least he should be able to tell us more about them.”
“Good idea.”
He handed the pages back to her, and she put them with the diary, which she’d been holding tightly to her chest. Cole eyed her curiously, but he didn’t ask for it. Kelsey was glad, because she wasn’t eager to let it out of her possession, not even for an instant.
She twisted around in her seat. “Flash, did you figure out who was watching us?”
“No. I’ll keep working on that. In the meantime, even though we had to cut things short in there, I got a lot of good data.”
“Like what?”
He gestured toward the computer screen. “Gloria Poole’s electronic trail for the past two weeks—phones calls to and from her extension, the times she coded in to work, the times she logged onto the computer, what equipment she used and when, things like that.”
“Wow.”
“This data will take some analysis, but you’d be surprised at what can be gleaned from this sort of thing.”
“Other than making copies of the bonds, can you tell about any of her other activities that Monday night?”
He typed on the keyboard and then scanned the screen. “Let’s see…for one thing, I see that she googled ‘Transatlantic Wireless LTD’ and eventually clicked her way to ‘BAE Systems.’ So we know she was researching the bonds.”
“Probably trying to figure out if they still had any value,” Cole said.
“And if so, how much,” Kelsey added.
Thriller turned onto her street and then pulled to a stop in front of the building. Before she got out, Cole suggested they meet up at Columbus Park at nine in the morning. The man he wanted to visit was just a block away, in Chinatown.
“Sounds good,” she replied. “I’ll bring the copies of the bonds.”
She climbed out of the van and then turned to look back at the three men inside. “Listen, ‘thank you’ doesn’t begin to express—”
“No thanks necessary,” Cole cut her off. “We’re happy to help. And we’re not done yet.”
“Okay, then,” she said, smiling at each one of them in turn. “Thanks for everything so far, at least. You fellows have no idea how alone I felt until you came along.”
At the word “alone” she let her eyes meet Cole’s. He held her gaze, and she wondered if he knew what an understatement that was.
Minutes later, upstairs in her apartment, Kel
sey heated a quick frozen dinner and ate it standing at the kitchen bar. Though her mind kept going to Cole, she forced herself to focus on tonight’s incredible find, the handwritten diary of her great-grandmother Adele. Soon she was ready for bed and under the covers, propped up with pillows, the diary on her lap. She opened it up to the first page and read the inscription that had been written there:
Dear Adele,
As you begin this next part of your life, may you use this diary to reflect and record the many blessings the good Lord brings your way. You will be sorely missed, but we will keep you in prayer always.
With love forever,
Uncle Rowan and Aunt Oona
Oh, boy, Kelsey thought, reaching for the box of tissues on the bedside table. She was on page one, and already she was crying! Smiling at herself, she wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and then turned the page.
The diary’s first entry was dated April 8, 1912. It read:
I will give this a try, but only because Aunt Oona says it is important to record my thoughts and experiences as I embark on this next part of my life. She seems to have forgotten that Jocelyn is the writer in this family, not I. Already I am feeling quite silly, writing down things I could more easily say.
As for the day, we have arrived in London and are now tired and quite overwhelmed. The architecture here is lovelier than in Belfast, and our hotel is especially grand. But the people look at us as if we are culchies, and I can tell that our frocks—perfectly suitable for home—do not begin to suffice here. Jocelyn cannot wait to go shopping, but I am far more excited about meeting Mr. Williams of Transatlantic Wireless and discussing our investment.
Off to sleep for now.
Kelsey read the page several times through, pausing to look up the word “culchie” with her phone. She learned that it meant country folk, though it was most often used derogatorily, something akin to a “hick” or a “bumpkin.” Poor Adele! Here she’d come to London for the first time in her life and felt completely out of place from day one.
Unfortunately, as fascinating as this was, Adele’s handwriting was difficult to read. She wrote in a tight but messy script, and to make matters worse, the ink had faded over the years. Continuing on to the next entry and then the next, Kelsey saw that the handwriting only grew worse. It was such slow going that after a while she almost felt as though she were translating from another language.
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