Heart of Lies (20 page)

“Birds.”

“Birds don’t fly around at night.”

“Owls do. They eat mice too.”

Penelope looked up. “I don’t see any owls.”

Maddie shoved an old cot across the room for herself. She placed it near the huge armoire where she had made up a pallet.

“I don’t like it in here,” the child whined after she climbed in. “It’s narrow and it’s too hard. How am I supposed to sleep?” Her eyes grew wide and fearful. “You’re not going to close the doors are you, Madeline?”

“I’m not closing the doors.” Maddie had to look away.

“I don’t trust you. Give me the key.” Penelope held out her hand.

A frayed braided cord was still attached to the key in the lock. Maddie tugged on the cord. It was so rotted it snapped. She handed Penelope the key. “There, now get in and lie down. Please.”

The child did as she was told but her hesitation proved she was not as brave as she let on. Maddie covered her with the cape before she stretched out on her own bare cot and draped her extra wool skirt over herself.

Lying there in the dark warehouse, Maddie listened to the sounds of the city outside, an occasional shout amid the clip-clop of horses’ hooves, the clatter of carriage wheels against cobblestones, the shrill steam whistle from a riverboat. When she’d lived here, she barely noticed the clamor. Now she longed for the gentle heartbeat of the bayou, the mysterious sounds of the swamp to lull her to sleep.

She drifted off only to find herself trapped in the web of her nightmare, wandering through the faded, raggedy-edged world of sounds and colors that always terrified her. She awoke with a start, afraid she had awakened Penelope, but the child was still softly snoring.

Wide awake now, Maddie felt the memories oozing off the walls around her. How many children had she locked in the armoires? How many young lives had she changed? How many memories had she wiped out?

Would there ever come a day when she wasn’t haunted by her own nightmare?

The next morning, Penelope woke in a foul mood. She balked when Maddie asked her to fold up her things.

“I don’t want to stay here anymore.” Penelope sat down on the edge of the armoire with her legs dangling outside of it and crossed her arms. Her bottom lip jutted in a pout.

Truth be told, Maddie didn’t want to be here either. There was too much of the past to face, too many dark memories.

“We won’t stay much longer.” Despite her disguise, sooner or later a discerning individual might recognize Penelope from her likeness in the paper or one of the posters pasted up near the market stalls.

“Where are we going next, Madeline?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You don’t have a plan? I’m a little girl and even
I
had a plan to get to Kentucky.”

Maddie sighed. She stood up and started walking around the warehouse, picking through discarded items — an old boot, a walking stick, some broken spectacles. She straightened overturned barrels once used for stools. She’d always been one who’d straightened and cleaned. The only one most of the time. She thought better on her feet, sorting things out in her mind while her hands kept busy.

Glancing over at Penelope, she saw the child sitting forlornly on the cot staring at the floor. Her hands were folded in her lap,
her shoulders slumped. Maddie’s heart contracted. She crossed the cavernous space. Slipping an arm around Penelope’s shoulders, she sat beside her.

“I really don’t like it here,” the child sniffed. She turned to look up at Maddie. A lone tear streaked through the dirt on her cheek. “You said this would be a wonderful adventure but it’s cold and damp and dirty in here.”

Cold, damp, and dirty summed up most of Maddie’s childhood, but she hadn’t really noticed back then. As she grew older, she had wanted more for her own children, but she had failed Rene. His childhood mirrored her own.

She tried to finger comb Penelope’s tangled hair but it was useless. The child’s face was still streaked with dirt. Staring down into those piercing violet eyes, Maddie saw something she hadn’t seen there before, something behind the tears. For the first time since she’d met Penelope Perkins, Maddie saw true fear.

“Madeline?”

“What, child?”

“I miss Papa and Mama,” Penelope whispered. “I want to go home.”

Maddie closed her eyes and saw Tom Abbott’s face.

“I’m a Pinkerton agent.”

“Hired by the Perkinses to bring their daughter home.”

No doubt he’d gone straight to the police the moment she’d disappeared yesterday morning. She was foolish to believe she could escape to collect the reward. Foolish enough to believe in the future.

“Was it worth it?”

She’d be lucky to escape the city with Penelope. And then what? Penelope would still identify her, and Terrance, and Anita. As long as Penelope could testify, they were all in jeopardy.

Penelope was sobbing in earnest now, slumped over with her face buried in the crook of her arm.

Maddie realized it was too late to change her own life. The reward money could have taken her a long way away, but Tom
Abbott believed her as guilty as Terrance. He wasn’t going to let her get away.

With the hopeless sobbing driving her mad, Maddie began to pace the confines of the warehouse. She thought and thought but as far as she knew, there was only one way to ensure Penelope’s silence forever.

T
om stepped into the French Quarter precinct office. Hat in hand, he waited for Terrance Grande to be brought in. He sat down, stared at the iron bars in the windows, and tried not to think of Maddie.

Impossible, given the fact she was constantly on his mind.

The way he’d seen her protect the child, the gentleness in her, her concern for the Perkins woman, convinced him Maddie Grande wasn’t without a conscience. But there was still her past to reckon with, the things she’d learned and done while living with Dexter.

If she was redeemable, surely there was a way to help her. But for the life of him he didn’t see any way out for her.

He heard the rattle of chains before he saw the burly, red-haired man being led into the room. The guards motioned him to sit. When Terrance recognized Tom across the table, he dropped his gaze.

“I’m sure you remember me,” Tom said.

After a moment, Terrance eyed him coolly. He nodded but didn’t say anything.

“I’m Tom Abbott, a Pinkerton. I sometimes work closely with Detective Frank Morgan of the New Orleans police.”

“Pinkerton?” Terrance snorted. “You got no more right to hold me than they do. I didn’t do nothing until you and those men jumped us.”

“I’m not here about what happened the night you and your brother resisted arrest and you wounded two policemen. That’s enough to put you away for a long time. Have you forgotten you killed your brother?”

“That was an accident.”

Tom leaned forward in his chair and tapped the edge of the table between them. “Was it? Or did you want to ensure his silence? I know you kidnapped the Perkins girl. It’s about time you confessed.”

“You’ve got no proof.”

Tom reached into his pocket and palmed the comb. He laid it on the table.

“I never seen that before in my life.”

“That’s funny,” Tom replied. “I found it on the floor of your cabin. Under your sister’s bed.”

Terrance lunged to his feet. A guard shoved him back down.

“What were you doing sniffing around my sister?”

Tom shrugged. “It was easy enough to get to her. Now how about you tell me about the kidnapping of Penelope Perkins?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re saying you have no idea how the Perkins girl got to your cabin in the bayou?”

“None. You’ve gotta put the blame on someone and you’re trying to make me look guilty,” Terrance said. “I had nothing to do with it. Just ask Maddie.”

In chains, Terrance Grande had lost some of the bravado he’d exhibited in the saloon, but Tom feared he wasn’t willing to confess anytime soon.

Tom played his only card. He knew with the political climate in the city the testimony of a former slave would never keep this man behind bars on kidnapping charges. Penelope’s word was another matter.

“You willing to let this all fall on your sister? I found her, along with Penelope Perkins. The child can identify all of you.”

“If Maddie had the girl, then it was all her own doing. She’s been a bit teched since her boy, Rene, died. I wouldn’t put it past her to steal a child for herself,” Terrance said. “She tell you what she’s good at? She tell you how she can make a child forget its own name?”

Shaken, Tom imagined reaching across the table, taking the man’s throat between his hands. What kind of a coward sold out his sister?

“If that’s all you have to say, then the guards might just as well take you back to your cell.” Tom started to push up out of his chair. Terrance got up and shuffled toward the door. When he reached it, he hung back and turned to Tom.

“What’s in it for me if I confess to something I didn’t do?”

“You did it and you know it. Confess and maybe you won’t hang for killing your brother. Maybe you’ll just rot in prison for the rest of your life and think about how Lawrence died. You’re not going anywhere for a long, long time. The least you could do is help Maddie out.”

Terrance stared at Tom a heartbeat or two. Finally he said, “It ain’t Maddie’s fault, you hear? None of it was her doing.”

Here was the glimmer of hope Tom never thought to see.

“I made her keep the girl. She wasn’t for it. Madeline told us to take her back, but I thought it would be easy money.”

Terrance slowly nodded. “You write it all out on a paper and put in that it weren’t Maddie’s idea. I’ll make my mark on it.”

L
angetree’s just down that lane yonder.”

Maddie looked at the child asleep beside her on the high seat of a buckboard wagon. She’d cleaned the girl up as best as she could, placed the single comb in her hair.

Figuring Tom Abbott wouldn’t expect them to return to the riverfront, Maddie had headed back and found someone willing to take them up the river road. It had taken her no more than five minutes to appeal to a driver with a load of furniture bound for a plantation five miles north of Langetree. He agreed to let them ride along.

“I could carry you on up to the house,” the driver offered at the end of the tree-lined drive.

The plantation house was far enough away that it wasn’t even visible from the road. It was still early afternoon and a number of carriages and wagons had passed them on the river road. Maddie was counting on someone headed back in the opposite direction to come along and take her back.

“Thank you kindly, but you’ve done more than enough. We appreciate it.”

She gently shook Penelope’s shoulder. The child awoke, rubbed her eyes, and looked around. “Where are we?”

“Home.” Maddie climbed down and reached up to help her down.

Penelope leaned against Maddie as they stood side by side in the road watching the wagon roll away.

“Can you find your way from here?” Maddie asked.

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

Maddie stared down the long wheel-rutted lane bordered by oaks. A wide green lawn spread out on both sides and rolled all the way to the river. It was an idyllic setting. This child lived in a world Maddie could never even imagine.

She thought of the reward. Money the Perkinses could easily afford to spend.

Still, there was a price to be paid for freedom.

“I don’t think that would be such a good idea,” Maddie said.

“'Cause your brothers kidnapped me.”

“That. And other things.”

“I promise I won’t tell anybody about what happened.”

“They’re bound to find out.” Sooner than later, she thought. Tom Abbott was never far from her mind and probably right on her trail. The police might even be watching the place, hoping she’d walk into a trap.

“Nobody will find out.” Penelope looked longingly toward the house. “Not if I don’t tell.”

“You best get going,” Maddie said, clutching her own bundle close. If she wasn’t careful, someone might drive up the lane and see them together. “Will you be all right?”

“I almost made it across the Mississippi, didn’t I?” It was a warm afternoon. Penelope slipped off her cape. “Come with me, Maddie. I want to show you my room. You can meet Mama and Papa. I’ll tell them you’re just a kind stranger who found me and brought me home. You know I can make them believe it. I am a talented actress, after all.”

In the distance, a shiny carriage was approaching, headed back toward New Orleans. With any luck, the occupants were going all the way to town.

Maddie looked into Penelope’s upturned face, into her wide, trusting eyes.

I’ve taught this child how to beg and how to lie. I can’t let her lie to her own parents.

Maddie knew the sooner she was on the road, the better. She would head directly back to the bayou to warn Anita and then move on. Eventually, Tom Abbott and the police would be coming for her, but with any luck at all she’d have a head start.

Penelope began walking down the lane alone, then suddenly turned and came running back. She grabbed Maddie around the waist and gave her a hug.

“I’ll never forget you, Maddie.”

“I’ll never forget you either.”

“Thank you for bringing me home.” Penelope pulled away and smiled up at her. Now that she was almost home, her eyes sparkled with not only tears but mischief. She gave Maddie one last hug.

“Who knew getting kidnapped would be so exciting?”

Maddie was pulling out of her embrace when the small black carriage suddenly turned off the main road and onto the lane. It was shiny and new, sporting black lacquer and fine-tooled leather.

An urge to run hit Maddie but there was nowhere to hide on the wide-open lawn. The carriage door opened before the driver had completely stopped the vehicle a few feet from them.

“Mama!” Penelope ran toward a woman in black silk who nearly tumbled out the door in her haste to reach her daughter.

Mrs. Perkins knelt in the dusty road and clutched Penelope to her. She didn’t make a sound. Her shoulders heaved as silent tears ran down her cheeks.