Heart of Lies (18 page)

“I expected someone harsh,” he said, “someone crude and cutthroat like the twins. Instead you can be charming when you want to be. You have a strength that’s not merely physical, but one of spirit. It’s your spirit that has kept you going despite all the tragedies life has doled out.”

She was so intent upon his softly spoken words that she didn’t realize he had drawn nearer until she felt his warm breath on her cheek.

The magic of the river, the soothing rocking motion beneath her feet, the smell of the fertile muddy land along the riverbank mingled with the scent of the man standing so close.

She was completely lost in the nearness of the kind of man she had always been attracted to — a man as deep and unfathomable as the river. But unfortunately, this one was on the right side of the law.

He reached out a hand. She thought for a moment he was going to kiss her.

Instead, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and whispered, “Was it worth it, Maddie? Was hiding the girl for the twins and chasing after her without me worth the years you’ll spend in prison?”

She thought of all the things the twins had done. Of Terrance’s mean streak and Lawrence’s blind obedience to his twin. Poor Lawrence. He’d never stood a chance against Terrance.

“I was going to take her back,” she whispered, almost too shaken to speak.

“Ah, Maddie. I’m sure you wish I believed that.”

“Let me have her,” she said. “Let me take her home and collect the reward. I’ll take the money and disappear. I promise. You can say I gave you the slip. Her parents will have her back safe and sound. Isn’t that what’s important?”

“I can’t let you take Penelope back, Maddie. I can’t let you claim that reward money.”

He sounded so matter of fact, so sure of himself. Whatever had just happened between them, the magic of it, was shattered into countless pieces.

“Because you don’t trust me,” she said, resigned.

“Because I’m a Pinkerton agent. Not only am I working with the police on this case, but the Perkinses have hired me to bring their daughter home. That’s my job and I’ll see it through.”

“So you’re determined to see me in jail?”

He stared back so intently she dared to hope he was about to say no.

“You willingly hid the girl.” He reached for her shoulders, stared into her eyes. “You were willing, weren’t you? Or did Terrance force you to do his bidding?”

When hadn’t she done Terrance’s bidding? She considered herself resourceful and independent enough to stand up to anyone, even Terrance, but with his temper, she had never defied him. She remembered the look in his eyes the night he’d kidnapped Penelope, the way he twisted her arm. She may have agreed, but she had planned to right the wrong. At least she’d planned to take Penelope home and collect the reward in the bargain.

She could see Abbott thought her as guilty as the twins.

Finally she stepped back.

“I’m sorry, Maddie.”

She laughed, a brittle burst of sound.

“Sorry for what? You’re just doing your job.”

The sadness in his eyes unbalanced her.

“What will happen now?” she asked.

“When we get to New Orleans, Penelope will be returned to her parents.” He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.

“And I’ll be arrested.” She reached out, touched his sleeve, hoping to appeal to whatever inspired him to be near her. “Let me go. I’ll disappear into the bayou.”

“I wish I could.”

“Who would know?”

“Penelope, for one. She can implicate you and the Russo woman, as well as your brother. And I would know. I have to sleep at night, Maddie.”

“Anita?” Anita would be in as much trouble as the rest of them. “Anita is old. Can’t you leave her in peace? I pushed the child on her … I …”

“She could have turned the girl over to the authorities. She didn’t.”

Maddie began to panic. She heard it in her own voice and struggled to keep her hands from shaking.

“Right after I left Penelope in her care, the storm hit and Penelope ran off. Anita didn’t have time to do the right thing—”

She was unraveling. He reached for her, tried to pull her close.

“Don’t.” She tried struggling out of his hold. “Don’t touch me.”

He fell silent, gave up trying to comfort her. There was nothing more she could say. Nothing he could say that would repair the hurt he’d inflicted.

“It will be easier on you if you go with me willingly and don’t cause any trouble tomorrow,” he warned.

She drew a deep breath, straightened her spine, and gave him what she hoped was a long, detached once over. “Don’t worry, Mr. Abbott. I won’t be any trouble at all.”

M
addie held herself together until she was back inside her cabin. She crawled onto the bed and pressed her back against the wall. Penelope was still snoring softly. Maddie covered her ears with her hands, pulled up her knees, and propped her elbows on them. She thought about facing the rest of her life in prison.

There was no way she could free Terrance now. As soon as she was arrested, the police could use Penelope’s testimony to convict her and Terrance.

If Terrance still hadn’t confessed, then Penelope was the only one except for Abbott who could accuse them. Anita would never talk.

She stared at the sleeping child. If the girl disappeared along with her, then there would be no way to prove anything. There was only Tom Abbott’s word. Terrance would serve time for resisting arrest, shooting a policeman, and maybe even for killing Lawrence. But he might never confess to the kidnapping.

“Was it worth it, Maddie?”

Truth be told, her brothers had never done anything of worth, never owned anything they came by honestly, never thought of anyone but themselves. She was just as bad as they were.

As the steamboat continued on toward New Orleans, Maddie sat shrouded in darkness trying to see into the future. She thought about Terrance and Penelope. Mostly she thought about Tom Abbott, a man she didn’t really know at all.

T
om paced the upper deck, counting steps as he walked. Easier to count how many steps it took to circumnavigate the deck than to think or to feel. Tonight he had nearly stepped over a line of his own making, a line that had always helped him keep his life on course.

He almost kissed Maddie. If he had, he couldn’t have taken it.

He would give anything to take her back to the bayou and concoct a story that would appease the police — something that would explain how and where he’d found Penelope Perkins — but that would require turning his back on everything he believed in. Everything he stood for.

There was no way to erase what she had done. No way to hide the evidence.

He kept on walking. Two hundred paces. Three hundred.

No matter what he decided to do, Penelope knew the truth and she could identify Maddie. She would be asked over and over what had happened, and a child as precocious as Miss Penelope Perkins would be happy to bask in the light of notoriety and tell all.

“Kidnapped Child Rescued: Recounts Tale of Danger and Woe.”

The desperate millionaire, the grief-stricken mother.

The newspapers fed on emotion and drama. What was better than a good kidnapping?

Maddie would be at the center of it all too. Public opinion didn’t favor villains who preyed upon defenseless children.

Nor did he.

Maddie’s only recourse was escape. He knew she would try to make a run for it. She had no choice. She might be able to hide out in the bayou forever if she made it back, but once they docked in New Orleans, it wasn’t very far from there to the precinct
station. He’d be turning her over to Frank Morgan before noon tomorrow.

She may have just promised not to give him any trouble, but he would still have to be extra vigilant in the morning. He’d deliver her to Morgan. His conscience demanded it of him, no matter what his heart desired.

T
he wharf was crowded even before the
Memphis Palace
docked. There was less commerce since the war, fewer steamboat passengers disembarking, but the riverfront still teamed with life. Laborers bent under backbreaking loads, pushing hogsheads filled with cotton bales, bags of rice, and sugar. Sailors dodged ferrymen and barge pilots. Horses, carriages, piles of baggage, harried travelers, and determined merchants all vied for space on the docks.

Maddie waited while Tom indulged Penelope. The child had demanded he tie her possessions in her cape before they stepped onto the gangway. It took all of the calm Maddie could muster for her to pretend not to care that he was about to turn her over to the police. She stood silently, watching, listening, waiting for an opportunity to escape.

There was no question she’d be taking Penelope with her. The girl knew too much for her own good. That morning while they were alone together in the cabin, Maddie had combed and styled Penelope’s hair.

“What’s a Pinkerton?” the girl asked.

“A detective. He hunts people down and puts them in jail like a policeman,” Maddie told her. “He’s a very bad man.”

“Worse than those twins?”

“About the same.”

“So he’s not really taking me home?”

“If you want to get home, you’ll have to come with me.” She refused to give in and be led like a lamb to the slaughter. “It will be crowded on the dock. Our only hope is to slip away when he doesn’t expect it.”

She knew every inch of the streets of New Orleans. There was no one more adept at hiding in a crowd, no one better at disappearing in plain sight than a Grande. Once she got away, it would take a miracle for Abbott to find her.

“You’ll have to do
exactly
as I say if we’re going to escape,” Maddie warned. Running with a child wouldn’t be as easy.

“Then what?” Penelope wanted to know. “Then where are we going? Home?”

Maddie paused. “Do you want to go home?”

She shrugged. “You said they miss me.”

“Yes, they do.” Maddie’s mind raced in circles and finally straightened out. “But do you really want this adventure to end so soon?”

“Will I get to act again?”

“There is every possibility.”

“Then I’ll stay with you. For a while, anyway.” Penelope frowned up at Maddie. “Do you promise you’ll take me back whenever I say?”

“Of course.”

So easy to lie,
Maddie thought.
So easy to let lies slip from my tongue.

There came a knock at the door, and Maddie held her finger to her lips, warning the child to be silent. “We’re ready.” She opened the door. The Pinkerton looked haggard. Deep lines framed his full mouth. His usually intense eyes were shadowed.

Good,
she thought.
He didn’t sleep any more than I.

Was he really haunted by the memory of a kidnapped child who died? Or had he kept himself awake, expecting her to try to escape when her only option was to jump overboard? Did he think she’d risk death rather than face jail?

He stayed close behind her as they walked down the gangway. She reached back for Penelope’s arm. The girl was clutching her bundle with one hand. Tom held the other. He motioned for a carriage and immediately a hack pulled up. The driver leaned down to discuss the fare. Tom let go of Penelope long enough to dig his money pouch out of his waistband.

A second was all Maddie needed. She tugged on Penelope’s arm, turned, and ran back toward the gangway. She made a sudden left, which put them behind a wagon full of sorghum barrels. There was no way Abbott would be able to see through the vehicle.

She crouched down and together they ran along beside it as it rolled slowly down the dock. If anyone noticed the two of them skulking along, they didn’t care enough to say anything. The wagon made a slow circle away from the river. Maddie stayed behind it until they came to the corner of Toulouse Street, and then she broke into a run, tugging the child behind her. They darted between two buildings. Brick walls gave off the damp scent of mildew that thrived in the shade.

For a half second she wasn’t certain if she was running through her nightmare or if this was reality as she clutched the girl’s hand and they careened down the street.

Maddie faltered, stepped in a puddle, and kept going. When she looked back, the girl was smiling as she ran. Penelope was intelligent and quick-witted. She’d make a good partner, but there was no telling when or if she would suddenly grow tired of the excitement. No way to ensure her silence — save one.

There were no footfalls behind them, no shouts for them to halt. Maddie cut a zigzag pattern, running down one street after another, turning to double back before she ran on. Alleyways that were barely noticeable opened up for her. She took a deep breath, drank in the scents of the city that had thrived under French, Spanish, American, and Confederate flags. Through it all New Orleans had survived.

So will I,
she decided.
So will I.

After twenty minutes of running Penelope stopped, refusing to go on.

“I’m tired, Madeline.” She was holding her side.

“We’re almost there,” Maddie promised.

“Can’t we please walk? He won’t find us now.”

Maddie started again, this time at a slow trot. They entered a rundown warehouse area. Garbage littered the streets and corners.

She had found the old warehouse without hesitation. The door was so heavy on its thick iron wheels it barely rolled. The wheels protested, sorely in need of oil. Maddie managed to shove it open just far enough for her and Penelope to slip inside.

Startled pigeons flapped their wings and took flight, escaping through holes in the roof.

“What
is
this place?” Penelope walked a few feet ahead and stopped, waiting for Maddie to join her.

“An old warehouse,” she said.
Home,
she thought to herself.
The place where I grew up, where I lived with my family. My tribe.

Like one of the pigeons overhead, Maddie was poised to take flight. After a two-year absence, she saw it for what it truly was: bleak and dilapidated.

“This isn’t a house.” Penelope looked around with disdain. “It’s like a big old dirty barn.”