Hidden in a Whisper (28 page)

Ivy knew her mouth had dropped open in stunned amazement. She wanted to say something that would sound completely unconcerned, but nothing came to mind.

“I have no intention of telling anyone about it, unless you have plans to harm Rachel further—other than emotionally, that is.”

Ivy knew she would have to go along with Reginald's demands. “I only wanted to scare her so that she would leave. I never intended for her to get hurt.”

“Of course not,” Reginald said, eyeing her contemptuously. “Just so we understand each other.”

“I agree completely,” Ivy replied, regaining a bit of her composure. “I want very much for this to work, and I wouldn't have come to you if I didn't believe you capable of being an asset to me.”

“Very well, Miss Brooks. We shall strike out this evening to win the hands of those we esteem and, dare I say it, love?”

Ivy watched him walk away and felt a wash of uneasiness settle over her. This evening she would once and for all come between Rachel and Braeden. Whether it worked to her advantage and she was truly able to force his hand in marriage or not, she would at least ensure that Rachel would want nothing more to do with him—and that was a very satisfying thought. What troubled her was Reg's knowledge of her actions. The last thing she wanted was to be under his thumb. What if he blackmailed her? The thought caused her to shudder. Perhaps she would have to think of some way to control Mr. Worthington while she plotted against the woman he loved.

“Marshal Schmidt, I'm glad you could give me a moment of your time,” Braeden said, ushering the older man into his office.

“Can't say that I've ever seen anything quite like this place. Lived in Kansas and Texas most of my life, and usually the town was small.

That there music is mighty fine,” he commented.

Braeden nodded. “I believe that's Mozart.”

“He that fellow playing the piano?”

Braeden couldn't help but smile. “No. Mozart is the composer of the music. I'm not certain of the pianist's name.”

“Well, it's right purty just the same. Makes a fellow a little sleepy, though.”

“At least the heat has subsided,” Braeden commented. “I find this cool weather much more to my liking.”

“Weather's been acting funny here lately. Usually stays pretty warm clear into November. I don't mean hot like it has been, but real comfortable. The natives are saying there's signs of an early winter with plenty of rain between now and then.”

Braeden nodded, growing bored with the idle chat. “Look, I've called you here for a reason. I need your help.”

“Problems?”

Braeden nodded. “It appears so. We've been suffering from theft of materials since our arrival. My inventory is reduced by several items on a daily basis, and all of this took place well before the arrival of guests. Miss Taylor is also having problems, and …” He let his words trail off as he tried to decide whether to continue. Rachel hadn't wanted the law involved, but then, she didn't realize that someone had made an attempt on her life.

“And what?” Schmidt asked.

“May I tell you something in the strictest confidence?”

The man's eyes narrowed. “I'm no blabbermouth, if that's what you take me for.”

“Not at all,” Braeden replied. “It's just that this is such a delicate matter, I can scarcely figure out how to handle it by myself. But I wouldn't want word to get out about it.”

The man seemed to understand and relaxed a bit. “It'll be just between you and me.”

“Good. That's exactly how I want it to be for the time being,” Braeden replied. “Last night someone broke into Miss Taylor's office here at the resort.”

The man scratched his chin, then hooked his fingers in his dusty leather vest. “Yeah, I heard about that. Jeffery O'Donnell's sportin'stitches in his head.”

“That's right. The thing is,” Braeden continued, “it wasn't the first time someone broke into her office. I didn't know about it until last night, but apparently someone snooped around in her room some time back.”

“You thinkin'the thief came back for something?” the man questioned, seeming to mull the matter over in his mind.

“I can't be sure what the real reason for the first break-in was. Some papers were taken, but nothing else. However, this break-in was different. This time the person clearly wanted to cause Miss Taylor harm.”

“In what way?”

“They planted a rattlesnake in her desk drawer.”

Marshal Schmidt's eyes widened at this. “Do tell?”

“It's true.”

“Then shouldn't she be in here discussin'this matter as well?”

“She doesn't know about it,” Braeden replied. “One of the other girls found the snake there and, having had a great deal of experience in dealing with them, simply removed it before Miss Taylor found out about it.”

“I see. Sounds like a good little woman to have around.” He smiled before asking, “What's her name?”

“Gwen Carson. She's the head waitress in the dining room. She came to me with the information but didn't want to get Miss Taylor upset by it.”

“How come she came to you?”

Braeden felt uncomfortable explaining his relationship to Rachel but realized quickly enough it didn't matter. “I suppose she came to me because I'm rather like a partner to Miss Taylor. She manages the restaurant, and I manage the rest of the hotel. But, besides that, I think Miss Carson knows I care very much about Rachel. We've known each other for a long time.”

The man nodded. “So you don't want to let this get around in case Miss Taylor might hear it and be upset?”

“That, and I can't help but wonder if by keeping silent, the perpetrator won't show their hand by asking questions that could help them to learn what happened that night. Maybe they think the snake is still in the drawer. I mean, after all, there might not have been an opportunity for Miss Taylor to need anything out of that particular drawer.”

“Hmm, I see what you mean. Well, what do you want me to do?”

“I suppose I'd like to have the place watched, at least from the outside. Someone is stealing from the establishment, and while I don't know why or where they are taking the goods, the tally is growing at an alarming rate. It's almost as if they want to get as much as they can right away because it won't be available to them later.”

“I can set up some deputies to ride up this way on a regular basis.

You want me to start that tonight?”

“I'd appreciate it. And like I said, I'd rather we don't say anything to Miss Taylor or anyone else for that matter.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Parker.”

  
NINETEEN
  

RACHEL PUT THE FINISHING TOUCHES on her hair before doing up the final buttons of her new green calico gown. She looked forward to Braeden's promise of a walk in the gardens and wanted to look her very best. The dining room had closed only moments before, and now, with most of the resort celebrators installed in the theatre room to listen to Miss Lucretia Collins sing various operatic selections, Rachel simply needed to wait for Braeden to come to her. She took up her shawl, closed her bedroom door, and locked it. This had become her routine, even if she planned to only be away from her rooms for a few minutes. It was hard to understand what the thief had been after, but Braeden had insisted she be meticulous in her actions.

Glancing across her office, she could recall the image of Jeffery crumpled and bleeding on the floor. She still shuddered every time she saw the doorstop, realizing how much worse the situation might have been.

Opening her lobby door, Rachel quickly checked to make certain the other office door was locked before sitting down to await Braeden.

“Miss Taylor?” a bellboy questioned as he peered into her office from the newly opened door.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Parker asked me to give you this note about a half hour ago. I looked all over for you but couldn't find you until just now.”

Rachel nodded and took the folded paper. She thought to thank the boy, but he left just as quickly as he'd come. She glanced at Braeden's handwriting, easily recognizing it from all of the love letters he'd written to her six years ago. She still had those letters, although she kept them tied together and hidden in the bottom of her dresser drawer. Perhaps someday soon she'd take them out and reacquaint herself with their earlier love for each other.

She frowned at the contents of the note as she read, “Mrs. Needlemeier has called me to an emergency meeting at her house. Sorry about our walk. I'll make it up to you. Braeden.”

Rachel thought it rather queer. Mrs. Needlemeier had been very visibly in attendance at the opening dance, and while Rachel hadn't seen her during the last hour of the affair, she had figured Mrs. Needlemeier to be partaking of all the festivities.

“My dear Rachel, you are positively glowing,” Reginald said from the still-open doorway.

Rachel quickly put the note into the top drawer of her desk.

“Thank you, Reg. What can I do for you tonight? I thought you might be listening to Miss Collins'performance.”

“I thought it might be best to discuss the inventory situation,” he said, suddenly turning quite serious. “There are additional items missing, and I knew you would want to know right away.”

Rachel shook her head. “But I thought everything was okay after you put Tomas in the storage room. This just doesn't make any sense.

Who could be stealing all of this stuff—and why? And why would anyone want to ransack my office? Surely they know they will get caught. I mean, now I feel like I have to go along with Braeden's suggestion and call in the law.”

Reg nodded. “It would probably be wise. Maybe after the grandopening festivities are over with and things settle down, we could sit down with the marshal and explain everything we know to be true.”

Rachel shook her head. “Sometimes it just overwhelms me.”

Reg moved closer. “Rachel, let me take you away from here. We can go back to England, and I'll set you up like a queen. You know how much I care about you, and I do detest seeing you overworked and underappreciated.”

His words stunned her, but Rachel forced herself to remain calm. She smiled. “I doubt Her Majesty Victoria would appreciate two queens in her country.”

“Don't tease me, Rachel.” He moved closer and reached out to take hold of her hand. “You know I've come to care a great deal about you.”

“Reg, we hardly know each other. Besides, as you pointed out so nicely once before, my heart is otherwise engaged.”

“But he doesn't deserve you. The scoundrel can't possibly appreciate—” “Miss Taylor!” Esmeralda Needlemeier called from the doorway, causing Reg to jump back and drop his hold. She tapped her cane across the floor and, pushing past Reginald, came to a standstill directly in front of Rachel.

“Mrs. Needlemeier,” Rachel said, getting to her feet in greeting. She had presumed the old woman to be in her emergency meeting with Braeden. Perhaps she had now decided that it was necessary for Rachel to attend as well. Maybe she knew something about the missing inventory or maybe Ivy had spilled the facts about seeing Rachel in Braeden's room and later in his arms. But Esmeralda's next words shattered that thought altogether.