Beyond a Doubt Page 14

Her pulse increased as his smile broadened and he nodded goodnight. Walking up to her room, she was happy in the knowledge that she would be with him awhile longer.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Cramped again on the small, rough couch, Bryce scratched at his skin. He saw shadows dancing across the walls as he twisted to find a comfortable spot.

  Upset and frustrated, he rolled to the floor and stretched. He settled his arms behind his head like a cushion and looked up at the ceiling. It was an interesting dichotomy to the dark and grim colors covering the walls, with painted angels lying relaxed on soft puffy clouds.

  The expressions upon the celestial faces exhibited peace and tranquility. Bryce did not feel such warm, comforting feelings. He was agitated and fearful.

  Who would have imagined that the decision to escort one young lady to the Scottish border would be so fraught with peril and last so long? Memories of long green grass flowing in the afternoon sun, sheep dotting a craggy landscape, and a small cottage nestled against a hill came to mind. If he’d stayed on course, he might have been cultivating those fields and helping lambs to birth. Why, he might well be on his way to having a family of his own by now.

  These thoughts brought a brief image of Crissy. How long had it been since he’d thought of her? Recently his every waking and sleeping thought had been of Lucy. The way she looked. The way she sounded. The way she walked, talked, and even smelled.

  Unique in every way, the lass wouldn’t leave his mind. Thoughts of their brief touches sent tingles down his spine.

  When Lucy had told him about her quest to find the code, Bryce never once had considered leaving her to discover the answer alone. True, in the beginning the thought of traveling to London with her had seemed ridiculous at best, but the more time he spent with her, the less he wanted to leave. Everything about Lucy was different and intriguing. They got along even though their lives seemed worlds apart.

  He rolled onto his side. Tomorrow they would search her father’s law office. If they broke the coded message on the fan, then what would happen? Would Lucy deliver the message alone? Would the message include a new contact name? Would he leave her and return home to Scotland? These questions plagued him throughout the night.

  When the sun rose, Bryce felt ill-prepared for the day. Exhaustion caused his eyes to droop; worry caused his pulse rate to increase. Food waited on the table when he entered the dining area.

  “Good morning, lad. You look terrible.”

  Winnie glared at her sister.

  “Well, he does.”

  “Ignore Winifred; she lacks the grace of tact.”

  Winifred stuck out her tongue and Bryce fought back his laughter. Lucy entered before anything else could be said.

  She wore an overly large, ill-fitting white chemise, drooped on one side exposing a creamy shoulder. Her hair was flattened on one side of her head. With a stagger, she walked around the room, finally settling into a wooden chair with a hard slap. She stared glassy-eyed at the gleaming wood of the table.

  Bryce feared speaking. The exposure of her skin sent his mind reeling. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

  “Lucille, apparently you slept no better than your companion.”

  “Uh?”

  “Look at yourself, child,” said Winifred.

  As if returning from far away, Lucy gazed down, then she looked around the room and stopped when she saw Bryce. He offered her a shy smile. Lucy gasped and pushed herself roughly from the table. When the chair fell with a loud thud, she stopped and covered her mouth with her hand. Red-faced, she ran from the room.

  “Sister, what an interesting week this has turned out to be,” said Winnie.

  “Yes, indeed,” agreed Winifred.

  A moment of enlightenment passed between the two. Suddenly they realized they held an audience. Winifred clapped her hands. “Oh, we never told you about our adventure.”

  “Nay, we did not,” replied Winnie.

  “You tell, sister, you are much better than I.”

  “Of course I will do it.” Winnie didn’t wait for Bryce to reply but plunged right in. “Let me see, from the window you could see us enter the house but you didn’t see what unfolded inside.

  “The men in Lucille’s home were sprawled out on the furniture like drunken heathens. Nary a bit of respect for personal property, I tell you.

  “Anyway, when Winifred entered from one side and me from the other, why, they jumped, squealed like they’d been shot, and ran along the hallway! This made matters more difficult for us, but we had to stop and laugh. The sound must have scared them more because the next thing we knew, we heard heavy feet on the roof.

  “I see by your expression you have doubts, but I guarantee it happened. Once we reached the back and looked out a window, we saw them roll off the slope and onto the ground.”

  “It’s a thousand wonders they didn’t fall off and break their necks,” inserted Winifred.

  Acting miffed at the interruption, Winnie continued, “Anyway, as I was saying, once they popped out, it was nothing to retrieve the items you two needed. Why, it was the most fun we’ve had in years.”

  “Yes, indeed,” added Winifred, a huge smile upon her face.

  “I’m happy to oblige,” Bryce said.

  Winifred leaned over the table toward Bryce, half her body stretched across the top. Her eyes glistened and she had a big smile on her face. “So what is next? Do you need us to visit the Tower and tell them about those bad men destroying Lucille’s home? Or do you need us to dress up in costume and watch a place, or—“

  Winnie’s wrinkled hand rose and pushed the twin off the table. “Sister, leave the poor man to his breakfast. If he needs our help, he’ll ask for it like before.”

  Winifred pouted while Bryce tried to hide his smile. Best to let the two of them work out their issues, lest he come away scathed.

  ****

  The ladies had graciously gathered more clothing than Lucy could ever hope to wear. A wardrobe had been emptied for her use. Now it sat empty again, dresses littering bed, floor, and every available surface. None of the gowns fit her mood. Morose because of her situation, yet elated because Bryce was still with her. None of the clothes projected dark, yet light at the same time.

  A low moan escaped. Why hadn’t she noticed her appearance before going downstairs! How embarrassing to be seen in her early-morning slovenly state.

  She walked to the window and drew back the curtain. Her home seemed empty. Everything dear to her rested there. Maybe going to the office wasn’t the place. Maybe the men who’d searched her home had the best idea and the answer was right under her nose. The Townsend ladies had warned her to be prepared when she arrived home. The strangers hadn’t been kind to the building.

  Her imagination ran wild, seeing holes in the walls, boards ripped from the floors, and a thousand other horrors. There was no time to dwell on this now. All that mattered was going to the office and finding the information to break the code.

  She found renewed vigor with that thought. With nimble fingers, she chose the dress on top of the pile. The gown was a deep navy blue with a white linen top. One look at her reflection revealed her unkempt hair. She combed it, pulled her brown hair atop her head, and allowed a few stray strands to lie against her cheeks. Leaning closer to the looking glass, she noticed tears pooling in the corner of her eyes. When had that happened?

  With the realization of her tears, they flowed more freely. Every time she swiped them away they reappeared. Even though her emotions ran high, she shook her head until the tears fell away, then thrust her shoulders back.

  She walked into the living area where Bryce waited. Gulping and looking away, Lucy continued to the door. Bryce followed her.

  Once outside in the morning sun, Lucy quickened her pace, wishing Bryce was walking ahead of her. There was no doubt he would have taken the lead if he’d known the location of the law office.

  At one time she’d thought he wasn’t a leader, but she’d sin
ce changed that opinion. Strong in body and mind, his simple actions and shrugs were only an act. It was the way he kept others from expecting too much of him.

  Before long they passed the residential homes and reached the businesses. Her father’s office wasn’t much farther. They reached the entrance and the door opened in front of them, sending a bell back and forth in ringing tones.

  “I will see you this afternoon,” said a man as he left. He bumped into Lucy. As she excused herself, she noted a familiarity about him that she couldn’t shake.

  She stared at the retreating form. Bryce interrupted her thoughts. “Is this the place?”

  “Aye.”

  They walked inside. Bookcases loaded with dusty books covered every wall. In the middle of the room sat two cluttered desks. Behind each desk was a chair, and one held an occupant.

  When the bell over the door jangled, the portly man glanced up with a look of surprise crossing his face. “Could it be? Why, I can’t believe it. Is that little Lucille Lombard? Why, let me take a look at you.” It was George Hampstead, her father's law partner and best friend.

  Lucy was filled with embarrassment over the time that had elapsed since visiting this man, who had been such a good friend to her father. She should have come by much sooner, if for no other reason than to say hello.

  He stood, walked around the desk, and held her in a tight embrace. Leaning back and studying her, he said, “This is the most company I’ve had in awhile. Most days I see only clients, especially since my wife passed on. And to make it even more unusual, the two parties who paid me a visit did so because of your father.” A hint of melancholy entered his tone, yet Lucy ignored his emotion and focused on what he’d said.

  “What do you mean, both parties came for my father?”

  Mr. Hampstead released her and focused on Bryce in a squinting motion. “Hello,” he said.

  “Hello,” replied Bryce.

  “I’m George Hampstead.”

  “Nice to meet ye. I’m Bryce Cameron.”

  Lucy tugged at Mr. Hampstead’s arm and he quickly faced her. “You were saying?”

  Redirecting his attention, he continued, “Aye, as I was saying, a gentleman came by for your father. He wasn’t surprised when I mentioned his passing. He just said he was collecting some of your father’s old things. And don’t get upset, dear, but even though I told you I would keep all of his belongings in place, I just couldn’t do everything on my own. What with my wife’s illness, I needed help.”

  Desperately, Lucy grabbed George’s arms and stared into his eyes. “This gentleman, you didn’t give him father’s belongings, did you?”

  “Of course not. But I did tell him they held little worth. He seemed unconcerned and wanted to know where the items were stored.”

  “And where are they?”

  “Child, I fear your tone is quite alarming.”

  “Please, Mr. Hampstead, this is very important.”

  “Well, all right, then. Your father’s belongings are boxed up and resting in my wardrobe, if you must know.”

  “We have to go there now,” said Lucy.

  “But—“

  Lucy pulled him from his seat and pushed him toward the door.

  “Lucy, I’ve never seen you this way. You do realize I feel as if I’m being taken against my will.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Hampstead, but as I said, this is extremely important and it cannot wait.”

  “So you said. Will Mr. Cameron be coming with us?”

  “Aye, he will.”

  “Just let me grab my cloak—“

  “Mr. Hampstead, it is warm out, you don’t need a cloak. Now, let’s go. I need those papers.” She tried to sound strong and intimidating.

  Bryce sent her a concerned look, which she ignored. He clasped his hands together and said, “Sir, we are sorry to hear about yer wife.”

  “Aye, she was very ill. In the end, I suppose she is in a much better place…”

  As George continued to prattle on about his wife, Lucy felt like stomping her foot. They had no time to talk, but as her ire rose, she noticed what they were doing. As Mr. Hampstead spoke, Bryce guided him toward the door. Surprised, she followed quickly as the office door was closed and locked behind them. They reached the street.

  Bryce and Mr. Hampstead walked together. The old lawyer expressed his sorrow over his wife’s illness and demise while Bryce listened attentively. Not realizing how quickly they moved, Lucy was surprised when they stood in front of the Hampstead home. Mr. Hampstead opened the door and they walked inside.

  He retrieved a box full of papers and set it in front of her. Lucy rifled through the contents while Bryce and Mr. Hampstead talked.

  After she had gone through the papers once, then again, Lucy put them back in the box. What they searched for didn't seem to be there. Why had she thought something dear to her heart would reside on some old piece of paper that could be placed in a box?

  Her father’s belongings were never dear to her, but the place where they were kept was. That had to be the answer. In the office there had to be a secret compartment. A place her father would have hidden an object of value. He would never place anything so important in his desk, where it could be moved or misplaced by any manner of people.

  Unable to stand still, Lucy hopped from one foot to the other. Finally the two men noticed her, and she said, “We need to go back to the office. I need to search it from top to bottom.”

  “But I already told you, all of his belongings are—“

  “What about the books on the shelves? Or what about a secret compartment or hiding hole? There must be some place you haven’t searched?”

  “The books belonged to both of us. And I know of no other place in the office that would hide anything. I don’t understand how any of this helps you.”

  Bryce took over, his calm demeanor having a soothing effect on Mr. Hampstead. “Lucy is searching for something, a scrap piece of paper or a book. Something that would have been of great importance and significance to her father.”

  George laughed under his breath. “Good luck there. Your father was notorious for burying pieces of parchment all over the office. Somehow he always remembered the hiding place he chose. I never could understand how he kept it all straight. He would say, ‘I need that piece of paper’ on such-and-such case, then he would spring from his chair, pull a book from the shelf, and pull out the necessary paper. It was amazing. But as for a special paper, I have no idea.”

  “So can we go back?” she asked, hoping to get her way by pleading.

  “But of course. Although I hope you have several days to look. When I assembled the items in that box, I found all I could. It took days to do that much. The rest will take ages to search.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Lucy followed the two men, fretting all the way. By the time they arrived at George’s office, Lucy was distraught. George opened the door. One step inside the small office and Lucy knew exactly what had happened.

  The man who’d left the office earlier, the one who’d seemed so familiar, had been the man who had followed Bryce and her in the park. The same man likely held the responsibility for ruining her home and now destroying Mr. Hampstead’s office.

  The elderly lawyer tiptoed across the threshold. His eyes widened and he placed a hand to his chest as if in shock. “My office. Wh-what happened?”

  “I’m sorry,” Lucy said.

  “What could they possibly want? There was nothing here of any value. Nothing but old books and case documents.”

  “Mr. Hampstead, let us help you clean this up,” Lucy said.

  He nodded and went to the corner. Righting an overturned chair, George sat and rested his head in his hands. Bryce moved farther into the room. He picked up books, rifled through the pages and placed them back on the shelf in no particular order. Lucy picked up a book and did the same.

  Depression hit a few hours later when they realized the mess before them was their only lead. T
he odds of finding what they sought had just become more dismal.

  As they worked, George mumbled and muttered under his breath. Suddenly he stopped talking and a wail rent the air.

  Bryce looked at her expectantly, but Lucy felt lost and didn’t know what to do.

  Mr. Hampstead held a dried rose. He turned it over and over before offering it to Lucy. She stroked the brittle petals.

  George said, “This was the first rose I ever gave my wife.”

  Lucy waited. George sighed and said, “She kept everything.”

  He placed the rose back in a book and continued speaking. “My wife was not perfect, mind you, but she was close to it. Almost completely blind, she was, and the physicians said they could do nothing for her. She only had vision on the sides, you see. But did you know she cared for the young children at church? Yes indeed, if a mother had more than one babe, she would go sit with them and help. Why, that woman was dear to so many hearts.”

  Upon hearing those last words, Lucy dropped the book she was holding, startling the others. She grabbed the sides of Mr. Hampstead’s sagging jowls and gave him a huge kiss. Then she grabbed Bryce’s hand and ran out the door, leaving a gawking Mr. Hampstead behind. Exuberance propelled her forward.

  “Where are we goin’—“

  “Bryce, come on. We have to hurry.”

  Bryce followed. When they arrived at their destination, Lucy held up her hand to stop Bryce. The entrance was large and foreboding. Stone lions perched like sentries above. Iron bars closed the place to visitors. A chain dangled and clanked in the wind.

  A sense of solemnity overcame her. With one hand, she touched the cold metal and pushed. The chain clattered to the ground. A loud creaking rent the air.

  A thin white mist covered the ground and moved aside as they walked. Perfectly trimmed hedges circled the place and filtered through the thick white veil.

  Total silence surrounded them. No crickets chirped. No birds tweeted. No frogs croaked. Lucy could only hear the soft sounds of their breathing.