“She’s right, that wouldn’t be at all wise.” I hadn’t thought before Dora spoke up, but Alina didn’t have anywhere to go. From the stricken expression on her face, I was sure Alina hadn’t looked beyond the next minute. My mind raced, trying to think of suitable lodgings. “Normally I’d suggest putting her in a room at Katie Allen’s boarding house, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Nor do I, Dee. That Gabe’s sent people to stay with her in the past is too well known. As determined as the people after Alina appear to be, they’d locate her within the hour.” Dora tapped a long, slim finger on her knee and frowned. “And I don’t feel at all easy about placing Katie or her tenants in harm’s way. Ideally, I’d like to find a hiding place with little or no connection to any of us, but we’re unlikely to come up with an ideal solution. My house would be much safer, especially with Randy living there, or yours and Gabe’s, for that matter.”
We sat in silence for a few seconds, both of us attempting to come up with a solution, before Libby spoke up.
“She could stay in the settlement house with me. I don’t think anyone would think to look there, it’s far too public.” Libby looked from me to Dora, and on to Alina, her expression eager and seeking approval. “No one will connect my work to Jack and Gabe, and they won’t connect me to Alina. Women come and go all the time. A new face in the house won’t cause any comment.”
“I’m not keen on the idea. But a place in public view will throw these people off track until we can come up with a permanent solution. At the very least, it will buy us some time. Her pursuers will no doubt search every shadowed corner in the city before looking right under their noses.” Dora glanced at me before turning all her attention on Alina. “Assuming, of course, that Alina agrees. I won’t treat her like a child. She has a say in her fate and what happens to her.”
The princess ghost smiled softly at that and faded from view. I didn’t know what that meant, not for sure, but I guessed that she approved of Isadora’s letting Alina choose. Why she cared was a question I couldn’t answer. Almost everything about this ghost was a puzzle waiting to be solved.
Alina held tight to Dora’s hand, an anchor against the ambiguity in her life. “I’m grateful for the offer, Libby, but I need to be sure you understand. Helping me is dangerous.” She hesitated, a flash of panic in her eyes. By trying to make Libby see the risk she took, Alina fully understood herself, maybe for the first time. “The people who murdered my family, my—my aunt and uncle, and killed all those strangers watching the parade—killing you won’t mean anything to them. Those men won’t give up until I’m dead too. I—I don’t want anyone else to die protecting me.”
Libby’s bright smile was heartbreakingly innocent. She didn’t understand; that much was very apparent to me. “No one is going to die. Gabe and his men will find these people before they find you. You’ll be safe with me, I promise.”
I had a harder time believing that Alina was truly safe anywhere or with anyone, not until we discovered why she was being hunted. Dora felt the same way; her expression made that clear. We’d both lost our innocence about the world years ago.
The bell on the parlor phone jangled, two long rings and one short. Dora jumped to her feet. “That’s Sadie calling from the hospital.”
She dashed from the sitting room. I heard Dora answer and muffled fragments of the conversation, heard Annie come out of the kitchen to stand in the parlor door and wait to hear the news about Jack.
I waited as well, barely able to keep from rushing to the other room and hovering at Dora’s shoulder. My stomach knotted, pulled tighter with each tick of the clock. The longer Dora spoke with Sadie, the more I imagined bad news. By the time she hung up, I was braced for the worst.
“Dee! He’s going to be all right!” Dora’s relieved smile as she came through the door was a welcome sight. She wrapped me in a tight hug. “Sadie says it took forever for them to develop the X-ray films or she’d have called long ago. Jack broke three large bones in his foot and has a moderate concussion, but all the rest is scrapes and bruises. Dr. Jodes is going to keep Jack overnight, just to be safe and make sure nothing else is wrong. Sadie gets to bring him home in the morning.”
“That’s such good news!” I laughed and hugged her back. “Sadie must be so relieved.”
“She went on at some length about that. I’m sure you can imagine.” Dora smiled and touched my face. “And I’m to tell you that Sam Butler took Gabe in to see Dr. Jodes. He cracked two ribs, but the doctor taped them tight, and Sam is taking Gabe home. Sadie says you’re not to scold Gabe overmuch when you see him. I told her I couldn’t guarantee that last part.”
“Sam’s a good man.” The worried knot in my stomach unraveled completely. Gabe and Jack would both heal. I brushed away a tear. “I knew I could count on him. But what about Connor? I can’t leave him alone.”
“Connor will be fine. I’ll strengthen the wards around his bedroom and the house before Sadie gets home. Trust me to take care of things here. Your job is to go home and fuss over your husband.” Dora patted my shoulder and went to sit with Alina again. The young woman rested her head on Isadora’s shoulder, grief shattered and numb, trusting that she was welcome. How she knew, I couldn’t say, but Dora folded Alina into her arms, protective and tender.
I’d never have imagined Isadora letting a total stranger get inside the barrier she kept between herself and the world. Protecting herself from the pain and emotions of others helped keep her sane, but I couldn’t deny what was right in front of me. That sense there were things left unsaid, things Dora didn’t want to believe might be true, came back tenfold.
When the time was right, or when she was very, very sure of the truth, Dora would tell me. Until then I’d savor my luck and Sadie’s luck too, and thank Providence that Jack and Gabe were coming home to us. We could have lost everything today, all we held dearest in the world.
If I doubted the truth in that, I’d only to think of all the new-made ghosts wandering near Lotta’s fountain, or look at Alina’s tear-ravaged face.
* * *
I went home and did exactly what Isadora said; I fussed over Gabe. That he let me fuss worried me at first, but he was tired more than anything. The pain medicine Dr. Jodes had given him added to his fatigue. By the time we’d finished supper, Gabe could barely keep his eyes open. Going to bed early seemed the wise thing to do.
Exhausted as I was, I couldn’t bring myself to fall asleep. Listening to the small noises Gabe made in his sleep, feeling him next to me alive and safe, was much more important than rest. And the truth was that I was too frightened to close my eyes, afraid I’d have nightmares about explosions, the screams of people dying, and the struggle to defend Connor as ghosts crowded me against a wall. The calmness I’d felt at the time had totally deserted me, growing more distant hour by hour. Reliving the day, even in dreams, might undo me.
Sleep always wins in the end. That the dream I fell into wasn’t about the parade or the aftermath didn’t make the nightmare less horrifying. I was trapped in the ruin of another woman’s life, watching events unfold through her eyes.
* * *
The guards moved the three of us to new quarters every few weeks, always with very little warning and always at night. No one would see my sisters and me in the darkness, or wonder why men with rifles herded us into the back of a truck. We’d stopped unpacking all but one small bag for fear of leaving something important behind. Once we’d left one isolated prison for another, there was no going back.
This day wasn’t any different. Men came to our room just after supper and gave us a few minutes to gather our belongings. My younger sister slipped on the stairs while struggling with the heavy cases, but refused to let any of these men help her. We’d already been told that anything we couldn’t carry would be left behind. The guards tossed the satchels into the back of a truck before ordering the four of us inside and tying the canvas flap shut.
The inside was dark and stu
ffy, a canvas box without windows to let in a scrap of moonlight or let us see where we were going, or allow us a whiff of air that didn’t smell of gasoline. Empty wooden crates were all the seats we had. A scowling guard sat in the back, a rifle cradled in his arms. He was bald and looked older than our father, and his coat reeked of fish and boiled cabbage.
Hate glittered in his eyes. I’d never get used to being hated by strangers.
My sisters and I held hands, but didn’t speak. None of us wanted to risk being sick in the closed-up truck or give the guard reason to shoot us.
Closing my eyes was easier than seeing his face. I braced myself against the side of the truck as it lurched around mountain curves and gears slipped on steep inclines, reciting to myself all the little things I wanted to remember to tell Mama and Papa when I saw them.
I would see them again. I had to believe for the wish to come true.
The light was rose colored with dawn when the truck stopped. Men shouted, giving orders and instructions on where to park, to get the gate closed as soon as the truck passed through. The air was colder and I guessed we’d moved higher into the mountains, farther from cities and people who might know us.
New guards, strangers, untied the door flap and began grabbing satchels. The man who’d guarded us all night eyed us, fingers flexing on his rifle and licking his lips. My sisters and I sat still, waiting for the order to climb down.
A new face appeared in the opening, an officer, younger than the man who’d watched us all night. He touched his cap in greeting and nodded. “Don’t just sit there, Private. Get out and help them down.”
The man who reeked of fish and cabbage didn’t move. I wouldn’t look away from him. If he meant to shoot me, he’d do it while looking into my eyes.
“Did you hear me?” The young officer scowled. He smacked the old man on the back of the head, hard. “Get out. Now!”
Our jailer clambered out of the truck, muttering curses, and stalked away. The officer watched him go, clearly angry. He waved to the group of guards who’d taken our bags. “You and you, help the ladies down and take them to their rooms. The rest of you carry their bags.”
The men helping us down had pistols in their belts, not rifles, but I’d grown used to guards with guns. My sisters followed the men carrying our belongings into the house, into our new prison. I looked back before going inside to see the officer watching. He touched his cap again and smiled. I turned away quickly, heart pounding and tears burning my eyes.
His kindness was a trick to make us trust him. I couldn’t allow myself hope or to think we might have a friend here.
The hurt would be all the worse when hope was yanked away.
* * *
The parlor clock’s chimes woke me at midnight. I bolted out of bed, running down the hall to the kitchen for a glass of water. Washing the taste of fish and gasoline out of my mouth was all I could think of. I’d be sick otherwise.
Moonlight spilled into the kitchen over the top of the shutters, allowing me light to see. My hand shook while filling a glass from the tap, but I managed to rinse the taste from my mouth without dropping anything. I filled the glass again and sat at the table, thinking and trying to make sense of it all.
I’d had this dream before, seen these faces. The difference was that this time I’d remembered each detail, clear and vivid. Not knowing their names, or who these four sisters were, didn’t make the echoes of their fear any less real. The one thing I knew without question was that these young women were dead in some far-off land. Ghosts.
All the strange and unexplained things in my life came back to ghosts and what they wanted from me.
Gabe still slept when I got back into bed, quiet and at peace. More than anything, I wanted to tell him about what I’d seen, to have him help me puzzle out what it meant, but I couldn’t be selfish enough to wake him. Morning would be soon enough. In the morning I’d tell Dora as well.
I turned away, staring out into the darkened room. The princess ghost watched me from the dressing table mirror, her image crisp and bright in the dim light. Looking into her eyes, I knew that what I’d dreamed was true, a memory of something real.
The princess knew too. I drifted off to sleep, wishing she could tell me everything.
CHAPTER 6
Delia
I rang Dora’s house early the next morning, knowing she’d probably still be sleeping, and spoke with Randy. He promised to give a message to Dora and readily agreed to pick Gabe up on the way to the station.
Stiff and sore to the point of hobbling, Gabe still insisted on going in to work. Nothing I said managed to change his mind. He was as stubborn as Isadora maintained and twice as obstinate, so I soon gave up trying. But if I couldn’t convince Gabe to stay home, I wasn’t above recruiting others to watch over him for me. I’d feel easier about his going if Randy or Marshall were with him. Sam would take over sometime in the afternoon and bring Gabe home for supper.
The truth was that I understood his need not to let the case grow cold. Even a day away from the investigation would let memories turn vague, leads grow faint or vanish completely. Gabe didn’t need to say that finding the people responsible for the riot and massacre at Lotta’s fountain ate at him. I knew my husband well. He wouldn’t rest until he found them.
Neither would I. Too many oddities, arcane and rooted in the world of the living, revolved around events in the square. My hope was that solving one puzzle might be the key to unlocking them all.
Once Gabe and Randy left, I washed dishes and tidied the house. The princess ghost shadowed me from room to room, her image reflected in every windowpane and mirror, each shiny white tile around the tub, and every piece of cutlery in my kitchen. Seeing the ghost’s face peering up from the surface of my tea was an odd experience, but I drank lemon-laced chamomile down in any case. She wasn’t really there.
My cat, Mai, followed me as well, batting at the princess and trying to pry her loose from wherever she appeared. Mai soon grew bored with hunting a ghost she couldn’t catch and gave up. She stalked back to the bedroom with her tail held high, the picture of wounded pride.
One ghost made me think of the others. I’d recounted my dream of the four sisters to Gabe, but he’d no better guess of what the nightmare meant than I did. Now all I could think of was the unfamiliar style of the house they were taken to, the clothes these young women wore, or the scent of snow riding the wind as they climbed out of the truck. Ghosts came to me for reasons of their own. Clues as to what these four wanted from me lurked in the images I remembered.
Gabe had his mystery to solve and I had mine. The idea that the two were related in some strange way wouldn’t leave me alone but going over what I knew failed to turn up a connection. I couldn’t help thinking Gabe’s might be the easier task.
Shortly before noon, the front bell rang. Dora swept in the instant I opened the door, already tugging off her black driving gloves and stuffing them into her handbag. Her roadster was parked at the curb. The dress under her fur coat had black silk full skirts, a white lace collar, and pearls scattered over the white silk bodice. Her clothes were far too stylish and elegant for tea in my kitchen. My call had disrupted her plans.
She shrugged out of her full-length beaver coat and passed it to me. “Forgive me for not being here sooner, Dee. I thought I’d given Randy sufficient instruction on when to wake me and under what circumstance. And yet he persists in believing that waking me before ten is dangerous. I haven’t the faintest notion where that idea came from.”
I hung her coat on the hall tree, all the while struggling to keep a straight face. “Perhaps the time you threw a bedside lamp at him left an impression.”
Dora waved a hand dismissively, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “Randy overreacts to my moods. All that aside, he still should have told me you’d called right away, not waited to ring me from the station. I was already dressed and leaving to meet an acquaintance of Sadie’s downtown for lunch. Melba something or other.�
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I led the way to the kitchen, aware that Dora kept an eye on the princess as we walked. The ghost kept pace, her reflection shimmering in and out of view on vases and picture frames. I suspected she was eavesdropping on our conversation. “Melba Andersen? I’m sure I read something about her heading up the local ladies’ temperance union. I don’t picture a teetotaler as your ideal lunch companion.”
“Nor do I.” Dora’s nose crinkled up. “She wants to hire me. Apparently Melba needs me to perform an exorcism.”
I stopped just inside the kitchen door and stared, not at all sure I’d heard right. “You can’t be serious. Melba attended one of Katherine Fitzgerald’s charity functions a few weeks ago. Sadie dragged me along for company. Melba decided to begin holding forth about the evils of spiritualism over the soup. She didn’t conclude until well after dessert.”
“I’m completely serious. From what Sadie said during our phone call, Melba is quite earnest and very frightened. I’m taking this seriously as well, at least until I have all the facts.” Dora took her customary place at the table, retrieving a cigarette case and matches from her handbag. “I rescheduled our meeting for half past two so I could come see you. Why don’t you fix us some tea?”
I did as Isadora asked and refilled the teapot with hot water from the kettle, gathered clean teacups, applesauce muffins, saucers, and a dish of sugar cubes, and set them on the table. Dora stirred sugar and lemon into her tea, but her whiskey flask wasn’t anywhere in sight. That she drank less was another sign of Randy’s influence and that she was happy with him, something I was thankful to see.
The princess ghost watched us from the window above the sink, a vantage point that gave her full view of the kitchen. Her image filled the entire window, partly veiled by lace curtains and sunbeams. She appeared bright eyed and eager, as if she’d waited for Dora’s arrival and for me to tell about my dream.
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