A Home for Her Heart (20 page)

John knocked on Mrs. Oliver’s door and they looked at each other as they waited. They each seemed to be holding their breath as they heard the locks being taken off. He heard Elizabeth’s breath release at the same time his did. Mrs. Oliver peeked around the corner and smiled at them.

“Oh, come in, come in. I’ve been hoping I’d see the two of you again. And I’m glad to see that nice face of yours looks normal again, Mr. Talbot.” She motioned for them to come in. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything very cool to offer you—”

“Oh, please don’t worry about that, Mrs. Oliver,” Elizabeth said. “We only wanted to come make sure you’re all right.”

“We’re fine dear. Thanks to your young man. Having those windows open has saved us, and I thank the good Lord for bringing you here to get them open for us, Mr. Talbot.”

“You’re more than welcome, ma’am. Do you know about others in the building?”

“So far everyone is getting along. It’s very kind of you to check on us. I do know that there’ve been a few deaths on the block, but not in this building so far.”

“We’re very thankful for that. Is there anything we can get to make it easier on you?”

“You’ve already done it, young man.”

“Well, we’ll come back and check on you again.”

“Thank you. I’ll be fine but you’re welcome anytime.”

They took their leave and John was sure that just as his did, Elizabeth’s heart must feel lighter—knowing that at least Mrs. Oliver and those in her building were faring well.

As the afternoon went on, John fought the urge to tell Elizabeth what he’d found out the day before, but he had no concrete answers to the questions he knew she’d ask yet, and until he did, there was no sense in worrying her.

Chapter Twenty

I
t was nine days and nights before the oppressive heat wave came to an end. In that time four hundred and twenty people died and most of them were from the tenements. It was heartbreaking for the whole city.

Thankfully everyone in the buildings where John and Luke had opened the windows made it through. Elizabeth’s father came in on Friday and she went to dinner at her aunt’s. John assumed she’d stay the weekend with them.

Mrs. Heaton had asked Michael, Violet, Rebecca and Jenny over for dinner and as soon as they arrived, Michael pulled John aside. “I have news. We’ll discuss it in Mother’s study after dinner, all right?”

“Certainly.” John started to ask if it was what he’d thought it might be but decided there was no sense spoiling dinner if it was. He’d find out soon enough.

Mrs. Heaton asked Michael to say the blessing and he asked them all to pray with him. “Dear Father, we thank You for this day, we thank You for the end to this awful heat wave, We ask that You give strength and comfort to those families who’ve lost loved ones. We pray there are no more weather related deaths from this heat. We ask you to forgive our sins and to bless this food, Father. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”

For the next hour, John put thoughts of what Michael had uncovered out of his mind and enjoyed the company. It helped to keep from missing Elizabeth and thinking on what she was doing.

But by the time they’d finished dessert, he was more than ready to find out what Michael had to say. After making their excuses, Michael gathered the briefcase he’d brought with him from the table in the foyer and the two men headed to Mrs. Heaton’s study.

They took a seat in the two chairs flanking the empty fireplace and John got right to the point. “Tell me what you have.”

Michael handed him some papers. “This is the party who owned all three of those buildings until about a year and a half ago when he sold them off. They are all owned by different people now.” He handed another paper to John. “And you were right. Elizabeth’s father is the owner of one of the buildings you two have been investigating. He’s owned it for over a year.”

John closed his eyes and shook his head. “I truly hoped I was wrong.”

“So did I. But it may not be as bad as it looks. He might have bought the property without ever checking what condition it was in. Many investors do that. Or have others do it for them and unfortunately they aren’t always told the truth.”

John nodded. He could only pray that was the case.

“You have to tell Elizabeth, you know that.”

“I do. But I think I’d rather cut off my right arm than have to tell her that her father owns one of those awful buildings.”

“Yes, well, at least you took care of the windows and no one lost their lives during the heat wave. And this is your chance. This is your big story, my friend. It will get your name on the front page if you use it. I’m sure of it.”

So was John. But if he broke the story...and mentioned Elizabeth’s father, it could cost him all he held most dear.

“I won’t be able to speak to Elizabeth about any of it until tomorrow. She’s at her aunt’s tonight. Her father is in town and I...” He shook his head. “I’m not sure what to do.”

“Take it to the Lord, John. He’ll guide you.”

“I will.” And he had faith the Lord would guide him. But, still, John feared the outcome might result in a broken heart and broken dreams.

Michael clasped his shoulder as they left the study. “It will work out. If you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Michael. I’ll keep that in mind.” Right now he needed to talk to the Lord and then sleep on it. Hopefully by the morning he’d know what to do.

* * *

John had spent that night and the next morning going over the papers Michael had given him, trying to figure out how he was going to tell Elizabeth about her father owning one of the buildings. And he was running out of time.

He’d just come out of the parlor, planning to go for a walk, hoping to ward off some of his frustration, when Elizabeth walked in the door. “Elizabeth! I’m surprised to see you back so early. Is anything wrong?”

“No. Everything is fine. I’ll be going back later for dinner, but I took the opportunity to come home for a bit. Now that everyone here knows who I am, and I’m seeing more of Aunt Bea, I don’t feel I have to stay all weekend. Besides, I had the feeling the two of them wanted some time together.”

“Oh? Then you think you were right in assuming your father is sweet on your aunt?”

She grinned. “I do. Where are you off to?”

“To get a bit of fresh air now that it’s not quite so hot.”

“Want some company?”

It appeared his time was up. He couldn’t take a chance on Elizabeth finding out about her father from anyone but him. “Sure, I’d love you to come along. Want to go to Gramercy Park?”

“Wherever you want to go.”

John grabbed the garden key from the drawer and they slipped out the door. She took his arm and smiled and he wished with all his heart that he didn’t have to tell her what he must. He hoped there wouldn’t be many people in the park and that they could find a quiet spot to talk.

When they entered the park, John was pleased to find it almost empty. They walked around to a secluded bench where the shade was thick and cool. He motioned for Elizabeth to take a seat and then sat down beside her.

“It’s nice and peaceful here,” he said.

“It is. I’ve come to love this park.”

“So have I.” He couldn’t help but remember the night he’d very nearly revealed how he felt about her. Oh, how he wished he had, right then and there.

“I have an invitation for you,” Elizabeth said.

“You do?” She’d take it back once he told her what he had to.

“I do. Aunt Bea has been reading your stories and she want’s Papa to meet you. She told me to ask you to come for dinner tonight.”

John’s heart felt as if it was being torn right down the middle. “Oh, that...was very nice of her.”

“So will you come?” She smiled a smile that dug itself deep into his heart.

He had no choice but to tell her the truth and the time was now. “I’d love to. But first I have something to tell you, Elizabeth, and I don’t think you’ll want me there once I do.”

“What do you mean? What do you have to tell me?”

“Michael and I know who owns the buildings.”

“Oh? Why would that upset me? Who owns them?”

“Until about a year and a half ago, a man named Adam Worthington owned the three that we’ve been looking into.”

“I’m not familiar with that name. Should I be?”

This was even more difficult than he’d thought it would be. He reached out and took one of her hands in his. “No. Not him. But the man who bought one of the buildings...the one Mrs. Oliver lives in...that man is your father.”

She looked dazed as she shook her head. He could see horror at the thought and then disbelief in her eyes. She jerked her hand out of his grasp and jumped up. “No! I know my father has his faults, but he’d never let anything he owned fall into that kind of disrepair. He’d never buy something in that condition to begin with. If for no other reason than he wouldn’t want others to think less of him. He can’t own that building!”

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth, but he does own it. We have the proof.” The pain in her eyes shot like an arrow into his heart.

She turned to him. “And now you’re going to make your dreams come true, I suppose! This is the break you’ve been waiting for—a front-page story with my father’s name splashed across the top of it!”

In that moment, John was certain his dreams of a future with her were over. But he couldn’t think about that now. She was overwrought and he only wanted to help her. “Elizabeth, I—”

“It can’t be true, John! I don’t believe it.” She shook her head as she grasped her arms and paced back and forth.

John stopped her pacing by gently taking hold of her arms. She tried to pull away, but he gave her a little shake and looked into her pain-filled eyes. “Elizabeth, it is possible your father didn’t know how bad it was. Living in Boston, maybe he hasn’t even seen the property. Michael says many investors don’t really know what they’ve purchased. They go through brokers and trust what they tell them.”

He saw hope fire up in her eyes and he prayed what he’d said was the truth. And if it was, he remembered what it was like to be accused wrongly and not be able to explain. He didn’t want that to happen to Elizabeth’s father. “I’ll go with you to speak to him if you want me to.”

She covered her mouth with a shaking hand and nodded. The tears in her eyes were almost his undoing and all he wanted to do was make her feel better. “Do you want to go now or wait until later?”

“Now. Will you...will you get the papers or whatever it is Michael found?”

“I will.”

They hurried back to Heaton House in silence until they arrived there and Elizabeth turned to him. “I’ll wait here. I don’t want to answer a lot of questions from anyone. Just hurry, please.”

John nodded and did exactly that, praying all the way that this wouldn’t turn into a disaster.

* * *

Elizabeth didn’t want to believe what John had just told her. Her father truly did seem to have mellowed and she felt they were on their way to a better relationship.

She couldn’t believe any of it was true. But if he owned that building and didn’t try to make it better...
Oh, dear Lord, please...
She couldn’t even form the words of what she wanted to pray, but she trusted that her groans were heard and understood.

John was back in only a few minutes and they were on their way. Acting protective of her, he gently grasped her arm and led her to the trolley stop. But Elizabeth pulled her arm away. The very thought that John might get that front-page spread he so desperately wanted with an article that could ruin her father’s life made her ill.

Once they got on the trolley and took a seat, John pulled some folded papers from his jacket pocket and handed them to her. She quickly looked through them. The evidence was there. She couldn’t argue with it. She swallowed around the knot in her throat as she folded the papers and handed them back to John.

The ride to the Osborne was quiet. Elizabeth had no words. She didn’t know what to say about anything. At least John didn’t try to get her to talk, and for that she was thankful. Her throat was so full of tears she couldn’t speak if she had to.

The doorman opened the door for them and Elizabeth led the way to the elevator. It took them to the sixth floor. She could tell John was impressed with the interior of the building and she could only hope it didn’t intimidate him. Deep down, she knew he wasn’t out to hurt her family, only to get to the truth.

She knocked on the door and Amanda opened it to them. “Are my father and Aunt Bea in, Amanda?”

“They are. They’re in the parlor taking tea.”

“Thank you.” She turned to John. “Are you ready for this?”

“As I’ll ever be. Are you? We can wait a few days, you know.”

“No. I’ve got to know if he knew what condition it was—is—in. I want to get it over with. Come on.” She led the way to the parlor.

“Elizabeth, dear!” Aunt Bea said. “You’re back early.”

“I am. And I brought John with me.”

“Why that’s wonderful. John, it’s good to see you again.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Watson, it’s good to see you, too.”

“You’re very welcome. We’d been talking about what you two are doing to help others and I thought Charles should meet you.

“Charles, this is John Talbot, Elizabeth’s friend and the reporter she’s been working with. John, this is Elizabeth’s father, Charles Edward Reynolds.”

* * *

The older man held out his hand and John shook it. The handshake was firm and short, and the appraisal he gave John was intense. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Bea, Mr. Talbot. Glad to make your acquaintance.”

“Glad to make yours as well, sir.”

“Aunt Bea, John and I have something we need to talk to Papa about. Could we—”

“Oh! Of course. I’ll just go talk to Amanda about our dinner.” Elizabeth’s aunt smiled and John felt sure she had no idea what they were going to tell Elizabeth’s father and expected an entirely different subject to be brought up. A conversation he would love to have as a matter of fact, but that dream seemed to be dying right before his eyes.

Once Elizabeth’s aunt left the room, her father looked from his daughter to John and back again. “Either of you want to give me an idea what this is all about?”

“Yes, of course, Papa. Let’s sit down and we’ll explain,” Elizabeth said.

John took a seat on the couch beside Elizabeth and her father took the chair nearest her.

“I’m waiting. What is it you have to tell me?”

“Well, Aunt Bea told you about the buildings in the tenements that we’ve been investigating.”

“Yes. What about them?”

“It’s taken a while to find out who owns them and John even called in Mrs. Heaton’s son, Michael, to help. He’s a private investigator.”

“I see. But what does all this have to do with me?”

John saw her father sit up a little straighter in his chair. Was he beginning to put things together? Elizabeth bit her bottom lip and looked at John. “Papa—”

“Mr. Reynolds, sir. We found that one of those buildings belongs to you.”

“And what proof do you have?”

Elizabeth turned to John. “Give him the papers, please.”

John pulled out the folded documents and handed them to her father. The man snatched them out of his hand and quickly looked over them. His shoulders seemed to slump before John’s eyes. John could hear Elizabeth’s quick intake of breath as she watched her father.

“That is your name. It is your property, isn’t it, Papa?” she asked

“It is.”

“Oh, Papa, how you could own a property in such deplorable condition and not do anything about it?” Elizabeth asked.

The man jumped up from his chair. “How dare you accuse me of not taking care of my property.”

“I’ve seen it, Papa. I’ve taken pictures of the inside. I know what it looks like—”

“Enough!” Her father turned to John and his face hardened as he approached him. “I know where this is leading! You’re trying to turn my daughter against me! I should have known.”