by Cat Cahill
She snuck a glance up at him when he sat. “Good morning,” she said cordially. They were surrounded with other waitresses, bellhops, handymen, desk clerks, maids, and even a few kitchen boys, rushing to eat a small breakfast before they were needed in earnest.
“Good morning, Miss Reynolds,” he replied. He let his eyes linger a moment on hers, sharing a smile that was meant for her and her alone.
She smiled back. She didn’t need to say any words. They’d had an entire conversation with just the expressions on their faces, and no one was the wiser.
He finished his meal first and waited for her to eat the remainder of her eggs. When she did, he stood and collected both their plates and cups. “I’ll take these.” He reached for her napkin and deftly dropped a folded-up scrap of paper into her lap. He paused for just a moment to ensure she’d seen it, and then returned the dirty dishes.
Jacob caught Dora’s eye as she stood from the bench. She nodded at him, so quick no one else would notice, and then smiled, seemingly to herself. He stepped out of the kitchen through the hallway door, and then headed toward the lobby. Dora’s smile had been exactly what he’d hoped for with that note. It might have been a foolhardy thing, inviting her to join himself and McFarland tonight, albeit from the laundry room, where McFarland wouldn’t know she was there. But he trusted her to remain safe, hidden and out of the way. She deserved to see them catch the thief.
This evening couldn’t arrive soon enough. He was ready to put an end to this matter.
And then he could worry about how to tell Dora the truth about his identity.
Chapter Seventeen
Dora woke with a start. She blinked a moment, wondering where she was and why her neck hurt so badly. The room came into focus, shadowy from just the little moonlight streaming through the window. Dora rubbed her neck. She was seated in a chair in the laundry room, right up against the door.
Stifling a yawn, she pushed the door open a crack. The hallway was empty. A couple of doors down, she could make out one of the hotel room doors, also likely opened just a sliver. Jake and Mr. McFarland kept watch there.
Dora closed her door. It was imperative that Mr. McFarland not know she was here. Jake’s note had been brief, but clear—she was invited to wait here for the thief, but she must remain in this room, unseen and safe. She didn’t mind. After all, she had no desire to confront the man who was stealing from the hotel. And she certainly didn’t wish Mr. McFarland to know she’d been spending time alone with Jake.
She stretched and wondered at the time. And she hoped Millie didn’t awaken and come looking for her again. She shouldn’t—not now that she thought she knew why Dora had crept out of their room before.
The minutes ticked by, and Dora fought to keep her eyes open. She didn’t want to miss the moment the thief was finally caught. But sleep was hard to keep at bay. Her eyes closed, and she promised herself it was just for a moment.
A door shut, so softly Dora wouldn’t have heard it if she hadn’t been right next to it. Her eyes flew open. Was it real? Or had she started dreaming? Her heart hammered in her chest, and she swallowed before peering through the crack in the laundry room door.
It was real. A figure had entered the hallway from the outside door—the one that was located just to the right of the laundry room where Dora sat. Dora didn’t dare breathe as the person walked slowly and silently by her door. It was a woman, that much was clear from the dress and the coat. Her hair was obscured under a hood.
The figure stopped at the office door. Dora gasped and then threw a hand over her mouth. But it didn’t seem as though the woman had heard. Dora forced herself to breathe normally. This must be the thief.
The woman stood there a moment, patting the side of her coat. Then she turned away from Dora. Another minute passed. Dora strained to see what the woman was doing, but it was no use. All at once, the mystery woman turned and retraced her steps back to the outside door. Her head was turned, so Dora was unable to catch a glimpse of her face. The woman slipped the door open and slid out, quiet as the valley on a snow-covered morning.
Dora turned to look back down the hallway, waiting for the men to emerge and follow this strange woman outside. A few seconds passed. Then a few more. She was going to escape if no one went after her now. Perhaps the men had fallen asleep.
Not giving herself even the tiniest portion of a moment to consider the potential danger, Dora eased the laundry door open and followed the woman’s steps. The air outside was still, thankfully, but snowflakes drifted down, lazy and unaware that a thief was making her way through their midst. Dora rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She couldn’t stay out here long without a coat, but hopefully it wouldn’t take long to track down the woman she’d seen. What she wouldn’t give for a rabbit fur coat and a pair of sensible boots right now.
Footsteps in the new-fallen snow led to the right, through the garden and around the north wing of the hotel. Dora hurried after them, thankful for even the little bit of moon that illuminated them for her. She followed the trail past the north wing and around the front of the hotel. Just as she started down the hill, she saw a figure crossing the railroad tracks.
Snow-soaked shoes and frozen fingers forgotten, Dora picked up her pace, running to catch up with the woman. Past the tracks, not too far from the house where Caroline and her husband lived and ran the mercantile, the woman stopped.
Dora nearly tripped over the railroad tracks. Why had she stopped instead of running faster? Was it a trick? Dora slowed down, wary now. She had no way to defend herself if she needed to. This had been foolish, coming out here to chase a desperate person. She should’ve gone to Jake and Mr. McFarland and taken her chances with getting into trouble.
But it was too late for that now. She had two choices—continue forward and discover who this thief was, or turn and run back to the hotel, hoping the woman wouldn’t come after her.
Dora drew in a shuddering breath. And took a step forward.
It wasn’t long before she drew even with the thief. The woman looked up at her, and Dora stopped in her tracks. Red hair curled out from under the woman’s hood, and sharp eyes, still the lightest of blues even in the darkness, peered out at her.
“What are you doing out here?” Millie demanded.
Dora blinked at her. Millie wasn’t the thief. She couldn’t be. But what was she doing outside the office door in the dead of night? And what was she doing now? Dora’s mind reeled back to the first night she and Jake had kept watch in the office hallway. Millie had appeared that night too. The thought had crossed Dora’s mind then, and she’d explained it away. But now . . . it was far too much to be coincidental.
“What are you doing out here?” Dora turned the question back to Millie, drawing upon the strength of all her ancestors for courage.
Her friend’s eyes widened at Dora’s insistent question. Dora couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t as if Dora spoke up in such a demanding way all that often.
“It’s . . .” Millie’s gaze cast about the valley, almost as if she were expecting an answer to come rolling down the tracks from Cañon City. “It’s a man, all right?”
“Is that wise? After what you went through with Mr. Turner?” Dora asked. Millie certainly hadn’t mentioned any man lately.
Millie shuddered. “I’ve learned my lesson about horrible men. This one . . . he’s very kind and polite.”
“Mmm,” Dora said. She crossed her arms tighter around herself. “I saw you come in. Why did you go back outside?”
“I’ve lost the key to our room.” Millie patted the pocket of her skirt. “It’s probably hopeless, trying to find it in this snow, but I thought I’d try before waking you up. Of course, it appears you were already awake . . .” She gave Dora a little, knowing smile.
Dora let the words hang in the air. Let Millie assume what she wanted, so long as she didn’t suspect Dora had been lying in wait for the thief. “Come, let’s get back to our room.”
“I’ll meet you
there,” Millie said. “I want to see if my key fell out of my pocket in the shanty.”
Dora glanced over Millie’s shoulder at the old railroad shanty that had served as the McFarlands’ home before the hotel had been built. She nodded, unsure of what to believe, and then began retracing her steps to the hotel. She itched to tell Jake immediately about Millie, but she knew she couldn’t wake him with Mr. McFarland there. It would have to wait until morning.
It seemed impossible that Millie was telling the truth. If there was a man, she would’ve told Dora and Penny before now. And that meant she must be the thief. But how could Millie do such a thing? Certainly, she’d made poor decisions when she first arrived in Crest Stone. But ever since then, she’d been such a good friend to Dora, to Penny, and to everyone else. Perhaps her family was in trouble. She never spoke of her family, but it was plausible. Believing Millie had a desperate reason to steal from the hotel didn’t make it right, but it at least allowed Dora to feel sorry for her.
As soon as she arrived back into their room, Dora lit a lamp. She ignored the urge to peel off her soaking wet shoes and stockings, and instead began searching. If Millie had stolen so much money, it had to be here somewhere. Unless she’d already sent it away. Dora searched as long as she felt was safe, opening drawers, checking pockets in skirts, and even feeling underneath Millie’s mattress.
But she turned up nothing.
It didn’t matter. Evidence would have been nice, but the thief would strike again. Dora could only be grateful that something had stopped her tonight. She’d tell Jake in the morning, and together, they’d figure out a way to stop Millie.
Chapter Eighteen
With the arrival of dawn, Jacob had awoken with a start. Furious with himself for falling asleep, he’d shaken McFarland awake. These late nights were taking a toll on him. He’d never catch the thief if he couldn’t stay awake and watch. With dread curling in his stomach, he’d followed McFarland to the office where the hotel manager opened the safe and counted the money.
Three hundred dollars had gone missing overnight.
And after McFarland had left to return to his rooms, Jacob had been unable to find Dora. An ugly thought curled like smoke deep inside him. He refused to give it purchase. But it was impossible to ignore.
Dora had been there, both times.
Dora’s family was poor.
He stopped on his way to the kitchen, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing the terrible thoughts away. He’d find her at breakfast and prove those suspicions wrong. Resolve renewed, he strode across the lobby and down the south wing hallway to the kitchen door.
Jacob didn’t have to wait long. She arrived in the company of her red-haired friend, who was regaling her with some story. But Dora appeared to be distracted, casting her eyes about the room until they landed on Jacob. He hadn’t even bothered to get a plate yet. Instead, he nodded at her and then tilted his head ever so slightly at the door that led outside. Dora gave him a quick nod in return.
He slipped out the door and waited not too far away, by the side of the smokehouse. It was a clear, cold morning. But despite the chill, Jacob didn’t so much as shiver. He was too worried to think about anything beyond what he’d say to Dora. About five minutes later, she appeared, wearing a borrowed coat. She spotted him and gathered her skirts and coat to make her way across the snow to him.
“I suspect I know who the thief is,” she said, just a little out of breath when she reached him.
Jacob raised his eyebrows. Dare he hope she had evidence to prove his suspicions wrong? “You do?”
“Yes!” Her cheeks flushed red from the cold, but her dark eyes sparkled like the sun on the snow. “I saw a woman in the hallway last night. She stopped for a long time by the office door, and then left to go outside again. I waited for you and Mr. McFarland to follow her. But when you didn’t, I did.”
Jacob closed his eyes briefly. Had they stayed awake, he might know whether Dora spoke the truth right now. If she was telling the truth, she’d put herself in danger. “That wasn’t particularly smart,” he said.
She frowned at him. “I waited. What else was I supposed to do? Let her leave unidentified? Or should I have woken you and let Mr. McFarland know we’ve been working together? And yes, I supposed you’d both fallen asleep.”
Sheepish, Jacob nodded at her. “Please continue.”
“Thank you.” She twisted her bare hands together in front of her as she went on. “I followed her all the way across the tracks when she heard me. And when she turned around . . . it was Millie.” When Jacob showed no sign of recognizing the name, she added, “My friend and roommate. The one I came down with this morning. Red hair?”
“Ah. And what did she have to say for herself?”
“She said she was meeting a man. Which . . . isn’t unlike her. But, it’s strange, really. She hadn’t mentioned him before, and Millie’s hardly shy about that sort of thing. But then again . . .” Dora broke off. “I don’t want to believe she would steal from the hotel, but this is the second time she’s been in that hallway when we were waiting for the thief to arrive. She stopped by the office door, and while she claimed she’d lost her key to our room, I wonder if it wasn’t a key to the office she’d lost. And she’s mentioned wishing she had more money . . .”
“It’s plausible,” Jacob said, his mind turning in about six different directions. “But she left without entering the office, correct?”
Dora nodded.
He pressed his lips together. Dora’s friend couldn’t be the thief. “Then she left without taking anything last night, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“Yet this morning, McFarland discovered three hundred dollars missing from the safe.” He crossed his arms and waited for her reaction.
Her eyes widened just a little and she balled her hands up. “How did that happen?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “But I doubt it’s your friend.” He let that sink in for a moment before continuing. “I believe it’s someone who desperately needs the money. Whether it’s for family or to pay off some sort of debt, I don’t think the thief continues stealing just to pad his—or her—own pockets.”
“I imagine you’re right,” Dora said.
“Poverty is no good reason to steal. It’s much better to rely on the generosity of one’s friends and neighbors.”
Dora studied him a moment. Perhaps he’d pushed too far.
“Yes, I agree,” she finally said. “But to be fair, some people don’t have friends or neighbors capable of helping in such a way.”
“Then help can be found at benevolent societies and churches.”
Dora tilted her head. “Those sorts of things don’t exist in all places. What does this have to do with identifying the thief? Or are we attempting to discern the person’s motives?”
He’d gone too far. “I’ll discuss the situation with McFarland and let you know what our next steps will be.”
“All right.” She stood there, a dark-haired angel against the bright white of the snow, waiting. For him to show some sign of affection, or to say something that would make her laugh or blush.
But he couldn’t. He wanted to, so badly he could almost feel the soft skin of her cheek against his fingers. He clenched them to his palms. “I bid you good morning, then.”
Jacob left and returned to the kitchen without looking back. He filled a plate with food he knew he wouldn’t be able to taste and tried to ignore the feeling that he’d sunk a knife into the depths of his heart.
What if she wasn’t the thief? It was possible. But he had no suspects beyond Dora. He supposed it was plausible that her friend had later found the key and returned to steal the money while he and McFarland slept, but that would have been awfully brazen after Dora had discovered her.
And what did it mean when she said churches and benevolent societies didn’t exist in all places? Certainly, no such thing could be found in this valley, but they were plentiful in cities like Chi
cago. Was she trying to deflect attention away from herself? Was she simply stating a fact because she wasn’t the thief after all? Or was it something else entirely?
He shoved his plate aside, just as she returned to the kitchen. She didn’t so much as glance his way. Her lack of attention was another arrow to his frayed emotions, but it was for the best.
Jacob returned his full plate and undrunk mug of coffee and made his way toward the front desk. He’d figure this mystery out if it was the last thing he did.
And he prayed Dora would be exonerated.
Chapter Nineteen
Dora went through the motions of eating breakfast and serving the hotel’s guests. She felt hollowed out, like a dead tree alone on a mountainside. It was only after her lunch shift was over that she shut herself in her room alone, thankful that Millie had work to do that afternoon, and let herself think.
Of course, the first thing she did the second the door shut wasn’t thinking at all. Tears had been threatening to fall ever since Jake had turned away from her without even a glance that morning. He’d left her alone in the snow, confused and with the distinct feeling that he suspected her of stealing the money.
How was that possible? What about her character indicated she was anything less than honest?
You aren’t honest. Dora sank into the chair that sat before the vanity table she and Millie shared. She wrapped her arms around herself, but no tears came. She was more angry than sad. Even if she did need to pretend to be someone she wasn’t, that didn’t mean he should presume she was a thief.
But did he? Dora stared at the wood floor. He’d dismissed her suspicions of Millie. And then he acted as if he thought Dora might be the culprit, but he never really said such a thing. Was she reading too much into it?
She stood and walked to the window, which looked out over the snow-covered land to the northeast. The railroad tracks cut through to the right, leading ever northward and southward. Beyond that, nothing but the occasional hill and tree broke the view toward the shadowy Wet Mountains to the east. There they stood, ancient, silent witnesses to her people’s greatest triumphs and their worst tribulations.