Love in Disguise (25 page)

She raised her chin and looked Ted straight in the eye, willing herself not to flinch under his scrutiny.

His voice held only curiosity when he spoke. “What progress have you made so far?”

Ellie was tempted to amplify what she’d learned but decided to make a clean breast of things instead. When Ted took over the investigation, he would need to know the facts—sparse as they were—so he could clean up the mess she had made. She owed that much to Steven and the other mine owners.

What about the note she found in the bakery wall? She opened her mouth to tell Ted of her discovery, then clamped her lips together. She wouldn’t mention that now. The note was her ace in the hole, her chance to show what she could do on her own. There was no point in letting him in on it too early so he could step in and steal her thunder.

“To be perfectly honest, I haven’t gotten very far. I’ve struck up conversations with as many people in town as I could, but no one seems to have any ideas about the robberies or who might be involved.”

“And no one seems curious about why you’ve been asking these questions?” Ted studied her intently. “You don’t think you’ve raised any suspicions?”

“No,” she said slowly. “At least none that I can tell. But I have noticed a difference between the way people respond to Lavinia and Jessie. When I’m playing Lavinia, I have to be more careful about the way I put things. Most people expect older ladies to be inquisitive about what goes on around them, but I have to make sure I don’t push too hard.”

Ted nodded. “Go on.”

“But when Jessie talks to men around town, there isn’t any need to press them for information. Once I get them started talking, they fall all over themselves trying to keep the conversation going.”

Ted covered his mouth with his hand as if wiping away a smile. “That’s one reason Norma was so effective. Men get so dazzled by a pretty face that they forget to think. They don’t even realize how much they’ve let slip. It sounds like you’re using your looks to good advantage.” His voice held a note of approval.

Jessie’s
good looks. Ellie made a silent correction. Her own appearance wouldn’t garner more than a quick glance and passing hello, if that.

Ted steepled his fingers and tapped the tips of his forefingers together. “It sounds as if you’ve made a good start, but quite often you’ll get more information from approaching people by a more indirect route.”

Ellie willed herself to breathe. His response wasn’t at all what she’d expected. When was he going to tell her to pack her bags and leave?

“It’s a little like piecing together a puzzle,” he said, sounding more like a teacher than a detective. “Each person may have only a single scrap of useful information, but when you take everything you’ve learned and fit it together, a bigger picture starts to emerge.”

Ellie leaned forward, intrigued by his lecture in spite of her nerves. “For instance?”

“Have you noticed anyone who has more money than they should have? Or some person or group who tends to be highly secretive?”

Ellie shook her head. “I’ve kept those things in mind, but I haven’t found anyone who fits that description. Other than the storekeeper, whose wife tells me their business is prospering although the inventory on their shelves is thin, I haven’t found anything to indicate that anyone local might be involved. I think we may be on the wrong track altogether, and the robbers have moved on.”

Ted pondered her statement, then shook his head. “If there had only been one robbery, I’d be inclined to agree with you, but multiple robberies imply someone staying in the area, someone who takes pains to hide their involvement. From everything I’ve heard about this case, these thefts aren’t done on the spur of the moment. They have a substantial amount of planning behind them. I’d say they’re being orchestrated by someone with a long-term plan, someone who’s adept at maintaining an upright public profile while pulling strings behind the scenes.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” Ellie admitted. Why hadn’t she been able to see that on her own? It sounded so simple when Ted laid it out like that. That was the very reason they needed someone on the job who had experience, instead of a rank amateur like herself. She only hoped her blundering wouldn’t cost Steven and the other miners dearly in the long run.

Ted drummed his fingers on the table and glanced out the window. “We still have a bit of daylight left. Let’s take a walk.”

His abrupt suggestion startled Ellie, but she rose when he did and made a few adjustments to her disguise, pulled a shawl from the coatrack, and followed him outside.

To her surprise, he led the way west on Charles Street instead of heading back into town. In a few moments they had left the buildings behind and entered a path that led through a thicket of mesquite and cottonwoods. “Where are we going?”

“I noticed the line of trees from the stage as we neared town. Out here, a mass of trees like that means water, most likely a river.”

Ellie’s uneasiness returned full force. What did he have in mind? Ted seemed to take no notice of her discomfort but made his way through the grove as calmly as though they were taking a walk in the park.

She judged they’d walked about half a mile before they reached the banks of the San Pedro where it made a wide curve. From this point, the stamp mill was far out of sight, its incessant pounding muffled.

Ted nodded his approval. “Perfect. An easy walk from town, but far enough away that people won’t take note of the noise.” He reached into his right pants pocket and drew out a small revolver. “Have you ever handled one of these?”

Ellie eyed the little weapon with distaste. “Only as a stage prop.”

“Then it’s time you did. Here, let me demonstrate.” He raised his arm and took aim at a driftwood log twenty feet away.

Ellie jumped and clapped her hands to her ears when the crack of the gun shattered the evening quiet.

“Now it’s your turn.” Ignoring her reluctance, Ted showed her how to load the cylinder, cock the hammer, aim, and fire.

The lesson continued until Ellie lost her aversion to the weapon and it felt more at home in her hands. At last, Ted seemed satisfied. “You’re no expert marksman, but you could use it to take care of yourself if you ever needed to. Let’s head back now.”

She handed the gun to Ted, and they walked back to the house in silence, Ellie trying to make sense of the afternoon’s events. Had she passed muster with Cousin Ted? Why would he have taken the time to teach her to shoot if he planned to send her packing?

When they stepped into her parlor, he held out the pistol. “Keep this handy.” When Ellie started to protest, he pressed the revolver into her hand. “I have more. You may not need to use it, and I hope you never do. But if a situation arises where you’re up against the wall, I’ll feel better knowing you’re prepared.”

“But I—”

A knock at the front door cut her off.

“Are you expecting anyone?”

Ellie shook her head. She looked at the gun in her hand, then glanced around the room for a hiding place. Spotting the desk, she darted over to it long enough to yank open the drop front and slip the pistol inside before hanging her shawl back on its hook and opening the door.

Amos Crawford stood on the front porch, a nosegay of desert wildflowers in his hands. Ellie stared at him, openmouthed.

The telegrapher’s face turned a deep pink. “I’ve come to call on Miz Lavinia. Is she in?”

Ellie heard a snort of laughter, quickly muffled, from Ted’s direction and shot him a quick glare. “I’m afraid she’s lying down. She . . . had a bit of a dizzy spell, probably brought on by the excitement at seeing her favorite cousin again.” She reached out to take the flowers.

Amos’s face fell, but he kept a firm grip on the small bouquet. “Are you sure she can’t come out? I’d be happy to wait as long as she needs to make herself presentable.”

“I’m sorry,” Ellie said firmly. “I think it’s better that she rest.”

The stubborn set of Amos’s jaw told her he didn’t intend to take no for an answer. “I’d appreciate it if you’d ask her.”

Ellie couldn’t very well shut the door in his face, tempting as she found the idea. “All right, I’ll check with her. Wait here, please.” She darted another glare at Ted when she passed him. He hadn’t done a thing to help her out at all.

In the temporary sanctuary of Lavinia’s bedroom, she stood with her back to the door, her thoughts racing. How on earth was she going to get rid of the man? She looked at the gray wig on the stand and the charcoal dress that lay across the bed. Should she reappear as Lavinia and accept the flowers?

No, there simply wasn’t enough time to change her makeup again. Even if there was, transforming herself into Lavinia didn’t seem a good idea at that point. No telling how long it would take to convince the love-struck man to go away.

She knotted her hands into fists and pressed her knuckles against her temples.
Think!
The idea of a double identity that had seemed so brilliant at first now struck her as the most foolhardy scheme anyone had ever proposed. It was simply impossible to bring two roles to life onstage at the same time.

But she wasn’t onstage at the moment. . . .

A sudden idea struck her. Pitching her voice so it would carry through the door and out into the parlor, she said, “Aunt Lavinia? Are you awake?”

Switching to Lavinia’s quavering tone, she answered. “What is it, dear?”

Ellie grinned, warming to her new ploy. “Mr. Crawford came to call. He brought you flowers. Are you able to come talk to him?”

She sat on the side of the bed, bringing forth a creak from the bedsprings, and let out a pitiful moan. “Oh, dear me. My poor head is still swimming. Thank him for me, will you? And would you put the flowers in some water so I can enjoy them in here?”

“Of course.” Ellie stepped back into the parlor, closing the bedroom door with a decisive click. “I’m sorry, she says—”

“I heard.” Amos surrendered the flowers. “Tell her I hope she feels better soon, and I’ll see her around town before long.”

“I’ll do that.” She shut the door behind him and sagged against it. A soft, pattering noise caught her attention, and she turned to see Ted applauding gently.

“That was quite a performance, Miss Moore. The stage lost out when you decided to become a detective instead of an actress.”

The moan Ellie uttered wasn’t contrived this time. “I feel sorry for misleading the poor man. I never intended anything like this to happen.”

Ted gave her a sympathetic smile and shrugged. “It comes with the job, I’m afraid. You get used to it after a time. Besides,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, “Lavinia really
was
in the bedroom, if that makes you feel any better.”

To Ellie’s surprise, he walked across to the coatrack and retrieved his hat. “I’ve enjoyed our time together thoroughly, but it’s getting late.”

“You’re going back to Denver?” She tried not to let too much relief show in her voice.

His eyes twinkled as though he knew exactly how she felt. “No, just back to the hotel. It’s been a long day, and I’m ready for a good night’s sleep. You and I need to meet again tomorrow. You have a lot to learn besides how to shoot a pistol.”

Ellie tried one last time. “But your investigation . . .”

“It will have to wait a few more days. In the meantime, I need to send my report to Gates and Fleming and see what they want to do.” He opened the front door and turned back to face her. “Meet me at the hotel for breakfast. We’ll continue your lessons then.” With a jaunty tip of his hat, he strode off into the evening.

Ellie watched him leave, feeling her spirits soar one moment, then plummet the next. Ted’s mention of further training gave her hope he wasn’t ready to give up on her yet, but the home office would have to make the final decision. What would Gates and Fleming think when they learned the truth about what she’d done? And what sort of telegram could Ted send without drawing Amos’s attention?

She locked the front door and sank onto the sofa. In spite of her worst fears, her performance had turned out to be a rousing success. She had received unexpected acclaim from a seasoned operative and managed to pull the wool over Amos Crawford’s eyes. She ought to be celebrating a giddy triumph. So why did she feel more like crying?

It must be her jangled nerves. They had been frazzled ever since she received word of Ted’s impending arrival. But the day wasn’t over yet. She still had to spy on the secret meeting behind Pickford Hall. Once she’d unmasked the criminals, she would have ample reason to celebrate.

Ellie lurked—there was no other word for it—behind the rear staircase leading down from the second floor of Pickford Hall, thankful for the charcoal dress and gray wig that let her blend into the shadows. The moon’s pale glow gave enough light to illuminate the scene, but it didn’t extend to her little pocket of darkness. Peering out between the stair treads, she congratulated herself. The arrangement couldn’t be more perfect for spying. She felt sure Billy Taylor would approve.

The crunch of footsteps announced the arrival of one of the conspirators. Ellie ducked farther back under the stairs and watched as the man she’d followed earlier that day entered the open area behind the building. The constant glances he cast around him betrayed his tension.