Josiah's Treasure (17 page)

“Too near for comfort, lass.” Mrs. McGinnis shook her head and set out the tea things, the
ping
of silverware against china bringing Sarah back to the ivory beneath her hands.

Sarah tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear and bent over it. With one last circular stroke of the pumice-filled muslin bag, the tooth of the ivory’s surface was as good as she could make it, given her state of mind. She dipped her wide camel-hair brush in water and washed the ivory until every trace of pumice dust was gone. Tomorrow, the bone would dry in the sun and bleach while she was at the shop with the girls. When she returned home, she could paint. In the uppermost corner of the workbench waited a vase of
Rosa gallica
roses she’d gathered from the garden. Rufus curled against its base, basking in the sun, his fur a blaze of cinnamon. Sarah paused to tickle the spot between his ears, which caused his tail to flick testily.

Mrs. McGinnis clucked her tongue against her teeth. “That daft cat.
Aye
in the way.”

Sarah smiled and laid out her brushes, the red sable for the broader strokes, the tiny black sable for the fine lines. The reds would have to be just right to capture the muted pink stripes of rose petals, the hints of coral transitioning to a burst of lemon yellow at the heart of the flowers. She selected the watercolors she would use. The carmine to mix with Indian yellow. Gamboge and cobalt to blend for the leaves. Umber and ultramarine for shading. Vermilion for brilliance.

A freshly filled teacup and plate of cookies appeared, prodded
into Sarah’s line of sight by Mrs. McGinnis. “Thank you,” Sarah said.

“And you’re welcome. The doctor’s sent his bill ’round already, along with a note, by the way.” She extracted a piece of paper from her apron pocket, and held it at arm’s length. “He reminds us that Cora hasna suffered overmuch from her, um, adventure at the park, but she’d be best served by a day’s solid rest.” The note returned to Mrs. McGinnis’s pocket. “Bah. The girl doesna need rest. She needs someone to clap some sense into her head. Impetuous child.”

“She’s young. She’ll learn.”

Mrs. McGinnis briefly pursed her lips. “You’re more certain than I am, miss.”

“Not really,” she answered honestly.

The housekeeper chuckled and leaned over to examine the sketch Sarah had prepared on tracing paper. “You’ve another request for a miniature?”

“This is actually a birthday present for Lottie.”

“I do think your paintings are precious as gems. What did Mr. Josiah used to call them?” She straightened to consider. “‘Wee treasures,’ it was.
Och aye
, that was it.”

Little treasures.

Sarah tapped a fingernail against the edge of the teacup. “Mrs. McGinnis, I need to talk to you about something I heard. I didn’t want to mention it, but I suppose I should.”

“Aye?”

She looked up at the housekeeper. The woman had never concealed the truth from her. “Mrs. Brentwood told me yesterday,” Sarah began, unhappy that Daniel’s questioning had forced her to give merit to her neighbor’s story, “that there are rumors Josiah hid some sort of treasure in this house.”

Mrs. McGinnis tensed. “Any stories Mrs. Brentwood has to tell are just
blether
, miss. You shouldna listen to her.” She toyed with the napkin she’d brought with the tea, creasing the fold
even though it didn’t require fixing. “Anybody who was a prospector was believed to have brought back nuggets from the hills and hidden them away, even though most certainly did not. Folks do like to talk, though, about the successful ones like Mr. Josiah. Stories spread. You ken how that happens.”

“So you’re saying the rumor is not true?” Sarah laid a hand upon the housekeeper’s to still her nervous motion. “I don’t care if there really is treasure or not, Mrs. McGinnis, but others believe the rumor and are spreading it. Even Daniel Cady has heard.”

A fine web of wrinkles appeared on her forehead. “There’s no treasure or any such nonsense.”

The housekeeper believed there was, though. Sarah could tell by how zealously she evaded Sarah’s scrutiny.

Josiah, how did I not know? I thought you told me everything.

Everything except the truth about Daniel and Lily and Marguerite. And now this.

“I think you have always been honest with me, Mrs. McGinnis,” Sarah persisted. “Please tell me where Josiah’s treasure is hidden. I believe I deserve to know.”

“Now, miss, why do you want to ken about such
pish
?”

“Because we had an intruder who, I’m afraid, might return because he believes such
pish
.”

“I should have told you.” Mrs. McGinnis’s shoulders drooped. “After that beast of a man came here . . . I should have told you but I didna want you to worry. Instead I’ve only gone and made it worse.”

“So the stories are true?”

“I canna say, truth be told. Mr. Josiah was guarding something someplace, but I don’t ken what and I don’t ken where. Or if it’s e’en in the house anymore.”

“I searched Josiah’s bedroom. There’s nothing in there.” But his room was just one small part of the house. She would not, however, resort to tearing up floorboards or peeling wallpaper in search of hidden compartments.

“This rumor’s not worth you fretting over, Miss Sarah. The police will find our intruder and everything will be fine. Mark my words.” Mrs. McGinnis nodded her certainty. “But thank heavens and all good sense you finally decided to borrow Mrs. Brentwood’s Remington this morn. That and trust in the Lord will keep you safe.”

“Where have you been?” Frank asked from the dark corner of the front room, hunger and stale beer rumbling in his gut. His woman was supposed to bring him some dinner, but her hands were empty, clenched tight around air.

She slowly closed the street door, then turned. “I’ve been busy today, but I’m here now, aren’t I?”

He rubbed his fist with his other hand, the knuckles grinding into his opposing palm. She reminded him of his mother when she looked at him like that, full of disdain, pitying him.
You’re a failure, lad. A failure.

He’d show ’em both.

“Did you find out if she’s gone tomorrow?” he asked.

She didn’t answer right away, deciding to make him wait, tightening her shawl around her shoulders like she had all the time in the world. “She will be.”

“You coulda answered me sooner, woman.” His knuckles ground, round and round. “You were willin’ enough to help me when I first came up with this plan. You ain’t gone soft on me, have you?”

Her gaze flicked to his hands, but she was careful, oh so careful, not to show any fear. She was so good he should take her up to the Barbary Coast the next time he went and teach her how to play cards.

“For how long?” he barked.

“How long?”

“You know what I mean.” Annie was being difficult and it
riled him. “How long will she be gone tomorrow? And will that woman who works for her be gone too? You coulda told me she’d shriek like a banshee.”

“I don’t know. She’ll be gone awhile. All day, I think. And they both have plans in the evening.”

Frank grinned. “Good, good. Like to hear that. Need to work quick before anyone else gets the idea to move in on my mark, after that reporter’s pokin’ around.”

“You’ll never get away with this,” she said, her lips flattening into a narrow line.

“Why? You planning on telling someone?” He made certain she heard the threat in his voice.

She was scared then. “No! I’d never tell on you. Never say anything.”

“Good. ’Cause I don’t want to wonder about you.” He reached out to stroke her hair, catching hold of a strand before she could recoil. “You and me are going to be rich, when I’m done. Set ourselves up in a fine house on that hill. Like we’ve always wanted. Right?”

She nodded. “Say you won’t hurt her. She’s a good woman. You don’t need to hurt anyone. Never have.”

Her eyes turned soft and misty. He was the only one who saw this side of her. The side that cared. For him.

The fight, the hate subsided. “I won’t have to hurt her, now, will I? I’ll sneak in on cat’s toes and she’ll never know. Look around, find the gold, and sneak back out. It’ll be over in a flash. Just like that time up on Russian Hill. Stole that pretty silver from that fellow up there and none the wiser, right? Over in a flash.”

Frank snapped his fingers and guffawed.

She smiled weakly and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll make us some tea now. And then you can have your dinner.”

“By the day after tomorrow, woman, we’ll be able to have us a servant to do that for you.”

He felt the anger return, sizzling like a rattlesnake’s tail, when she didn’t agree.

“Are you telling me there might be an item of value hidden in your house after all?” Lottie blinked at Sarah the next morning. “And that is what the intruder was after?”

“I’m saying there seem to be well-established rumors to that effect, but I just can’t believe them.” Sarah took her friend’s arm and together they stepped off the curb at the intersection of Kearny and California. “Josiah wouldn’t have kept that from me. Would he?”

Lottie’s brow puckered. “I refuse to believe Mr. Cady would have misled you about anything, Sarah. He adored you like the most beloved daughter in the world.”

“He never told me about Daniel and his sisters,” Sarah pointed out.

“There has to be a reasonable explanation for that omission.”

“If you can think of one, let me know.” They hurried past a corner barker hawking the amazing curative properties of Glenn’s Sulfur Soap—the man’s patter good enough to draw a small crowd, even at this hour of the morning—and pushed up the road toward Sansome Street and the shop. “I just wish I could be sure there is no treasure.”

“Worrying about that rumor does you no good, Sarah. You have far more important matters to concern you,” Lottie said.

“Such as whether or not I should tell the girls that the shop could be in trouble?”

“That and the fact I might not be able to help as much as I hoped.” She glanced sideways at Sarah. “Mama was not happy when I got home yesterday afternoon. She says I am spending too much time with the women we have employed, women who are rough-and-tumble and expected to cause the sort of trouble they have.”

Sarah halted in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing a black-suited businessman in an enormous top hat to dodge the sudden obstacle she presented. “I can’t run the studio without you.”

“I did not say I would not help at all, Sarah. I merely said Mama wants me to spend more time at home. Entertaining.” She sighed. “Letting her acquaintances assess me as bride material over coffee and cakes is actually what she intends. I cannot snare a husband if I am at our studio all day. In fact, she told Mrs. Linforth to cancel tonight’s gathering because we are to attend a supper at the Lawsons’. They have an eligible son, it appears.”

“No supper or showing at the Linforths’?” Sarah felt her plans tattering at the edges like shoddily woven muslin coming undone. “After I managed to convince myself how worthwhile it would be?”

“I am sorry. Mama is acting ridiculous.”

“I need you and she knows that.”

“The situation is only temporary.” Another businessman muttered unhappily as he skirted them. Lottie gathered Sarah’s arm in hers and encouraged her to move on. “Once Mama is over her pique about my little accident, she will change her mind about my involvement with the shop. You shall see. But for now, her sympathy for our cause has run a trifle thin.”

“We had none of these troubles before Daniel Cady arrived in town. I can’t wait until he goes back to Chicago.” Taking his questions, and the confounding way he made her feel, two thousand miles away.

Lottie’s sideways glance held a world of implications. “I wonder if he will go back.”

“He most certainly will, Lottie. He has assured me repeatedly.”

“I saw the way he looked at you after he had pulled you from the pond, Sarah. He was genuinely worried about you.”

A blush heated Sarah’s cheeks. She wouldn’t respond to that sort of speculation; she’d wasted enough time herself wondering whether he was worried.

Therefore, she changed the subject. “Look,” Sarah said when they caught sight of the storefront. “The girls are here already.”