The Carousel Painter (31 page)

Josef’s attention shifted back and forth between the detective and me. “You have some special reason for asking these questions?”

“I do, but it might be better if Miss Brouwer explained. Right now, I need to go back to the police station and investigate some information Miss Brouwer has given me.”

Josef watched the detective until he disappeared in the waning evening light and then turned back to face me. “We can sit on the blanket while you tell me.”

My hands were sweating and my heart pounded beneath my rose-colored bodice as Josef escorted me across the grass. Once the police had become involved, the Galloways had given up control of the investigation. Why had I suggested the police be contacted? If I’d kept that thought to myself, Mr. Galloway would have probably received a payment from his insurance company, and life would have continued as usual. Instead, the matter remained under investigation.

I’d observed the worry in Josef’s eyes—or had it been suspicion? How much should I reveal? My thoughts twisted like a tangle of crochet thread.

The conversation didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. Because I didn’t want to tell him I was the primary suspect in the investigation, I zigzagged around most of Josef’s questions. I did tell him Mrs. Galloway’s expensive necklace and rings had been stolen, and the police had been contacted at my suggestion. That much was true, and it made me sound more like a partner in solving the crime than a suspect. By the time the conversation ended, Josef seemed convinced I was helping the detective solve the crime—and I said nothing to change his mind.

Later that night when I returned to my bedroom, I considered everything I hadn’t told Josef. I should have been completely honest with him. What was it I feared? Did I believe he, too, would consider me the best possible suspect? Surely after spending time with me over the past month and a half, he wouldn’t so quickly judge me. After all, neither the detective nor Tyson had convinced the Galloways I was a thief—and it certainly wasn’t from lack of trying.

Yet I hadn’t wanted to divulge Tyson’s unwanted advances to Josef. He would surely confront the wealthy young man. I could see it unfold before my eyes. The two men would argue; Tyson would feign ignorance; and the moment Josef was gone, Tyson would run to Augusta. He would tell her I had been secretly attempting to win his attentions. Instinctively I covered my ears. Moments later a tear trickled down my cheek. Augusta was desperate for Tyson’s affection. She’d made it clear she hoped to marry him. In her current state of mind, he could convince her of anything. Our friendship would lie in ruins. A flash of pain seared my brain. I massaged my temples and asked myself why it mattered what Josef thought.

The investigation had nothing to do with my performance at work, and my employment was the only thing Josef controlled.
And perhaps
my heart.
That nagging thought had returned every day since it had first flitted through my mind late last Sunday night. Now that seed of thought had taken root and sprouted tendrils. Long taut vines that constricted each time I made a decision or spoke a word that affected my relationship with Josef.
I must be careful to protect my heart
. Over and over, I repeated the phrase. I hoped it would safeguard me from pain.

CHAPTER
21

June 7, 1890

A
week later Josef and I were walking side by side after work and were nearing the boardinghouse. “You could still change your mind and tell Miss Galloway you have other plans,” he said.

“I could, but she would be slow to forgive. They are leaving for the summer months to enjoy the cooler weather at the home of friends in the Thousand Islands. We won’t see each other until they return in early September.”

“Augusta must always come first? Do you think she chooses you over Mr. Farnsworth?”

Without looking, I could see the disappointment in Josef’s eyes, just as I could hear it in his voice. Unable to give him an answer that would satisfy either of us, I offered a shrug in reply. He deserved more, but I didn’t want to be dishonest. Even more, I didn’t want to wound him with hastily spoken words.

Instead of continuing up the steps to the boardinghouse, he grasped my elbow. “If it is so important that she see you before she goes to this summer place, do you not think she could come here to visit with you on Sunday afternoon?”

There would be no escape, but nothing I said would please him. “I have given my word that I will attend, Josef. She is my friend, and I can’t break my promise. You would expect the same from me, wouldn’t you?”

His beetled brow told me he was at least considering what I’d said. Finally he nodded. “Ja, I would expect that. But I would do the same for you. I do not think Augusta does this. She is selfish with you.”

He was correct in his assessment of Augusta. She did expect me to be at her beck and call, and I didn’t think she’d ever change her plans on my account. I’d never asked her, but I knew it would require a matter of life and death if my request infringed upon her time with Tyson.

“You’re correct. She is selfish, but this is a farewell party of sorts. And if you want my company, I will be at your side for the remainder of the summer concerts and dances.”

“That would be gut. And when Augusta comes home from her summer island, you will be strong and can tell her no.”

I studied him for a moment and gave a firm nod. Convinced I must make a change in my relationship with Augusta, I determined to take control of my own social life—beginning tomorrow. “I’d better hurry, or I’ll not be ready when Augusta arrives for me.”

Josef laughed and shook his head. I knew what he was thinking. The Galloways would send a carriage, but Augusta wouldn’t be inside. Though she promised to come, she always sent someone in her stead. Josef’s laughter rang in my ears as I hiked my skirt and scaled the two flights of steps to my room. Who
would
arrive this evening?

I hadn’t organized my clothes before leaving for work. Now I needed to decide what I would wear. At least I wouldn’t be spending the night, so I didn’t need to pack a bag. Since the Galloways planned to depart on Sunday morning, I had a perfect excuse to return home when the party ended.

I managed to complete my toilette quickly, and as promised, Mrs. Wilson scaled the stairs and laced me into my corset. I’m not certain which one of us was breathing heavier when she finished. Dropping into the chair beside the window, she mopped her forehead with a corner of her apron.

“We’ve finished the task none too soon. Your escort has arrived.” She leaned closer and peered down at the street. For a moment I thought she might stick her head out the open window. “Driving a roundabout rather than the big fancy carriage.” Her brow tightened into a frown. “It’s that detective from the police station. What was his name again?”

I closed the distance in record time. Holding the fullness of my skirt aside, I stepped close to Mrs. Wilson and peeked across her shoulder. My heart skipped several beats before it raced into double time. In a silly effort to slow the quickening thud within my chest, I placed my hand on my bodice. It didn’t help.

“Carrie?” Mrs. Wilson was staring at me, her eyebrows resembling two thin question marks. “What is his name? Larson?”

“No, it’s Lawton.” In an effort to avoid further questions, I crooked my finger at the older woman, retrieved my reticule from atop the bureau, and stepped to the door as rapidly as my gown would permit.

Mrs. Wilson pushed up from the chair. Her breathing remained labored, and it was obvious she didn’t want to face the two flights of steps that awaited her. No matter she would be going down rather than up—she declared either way was a chore at her weight and age. She followed behind and clung to the handrail as we made our descent.

“Why did they send the detective to escort you?” she hissed when we reached the first landing.

Glancing over my shoulder, I touched my index finger to my pursed lips. “Shh. He’ll hear you,” I whispered.

“Don’t be silly. He’s out on the front porch. How can he hear us all the way up here?”

I continued my descent and was far ahead of Mrs. Wilson when I turned around and said, “Trust me. He has excellent hearing. Take your time. There’s no need for you to greet him.”

Those words were all it took for the older woman to step lively. “I don’t want the detective to think I’m impolite, Carrie.”

“We must be brief. I don’t want to be late. I promised Augusta I would arrive in time to help her with her hair.”

The older woman clucked her tongue. “She has a maid but still expects you to help her. I believe Miss Galloway needs to think of someone other than herself.”

“Augusta frequently styled my hair when I was staying at their home.”

The only sign that Mrs. Wilson heard me was a soft grunt.

Fortunately, Detective Lawton refused her invitation to step inside. Mrs. Wilson frowned at his negative response, but I breathed a sigh of relief.

Once we were on our way, I turned to the detective. “Is there some particular reason that you’re acting as my driver, or did you request the duty?”

“With the Galloways preparing to leave for the summer and the crime still unsolved, I wanted the opportunity to speak with you alone and make certain you’re not planning to leave Collinsford.”

My muscles tightened and I gripped the edge of the seat. He still considered me his prime suspect, and that annoyed me in the extreme. After advising him I had no plans to leave Collinsford, I expressed my irritation. He merely shrugged and tweaked one end of his mustache, obviously unmoved by my outburst. I found his silence maddening.

Once I’d settled myself, I decided to try again. “If it wouldn’t be a betrayal of your position, I would appreciate knowing if you’ve investigated anyone else with the same zeal you’ve directed toward me.”

“I have.”

I stared at him and waited. He didn’t say anything more. “You have? That’s it? You have nothing more to add?”

“No.” He shook his head.

I wanted to shout that I deserved more of a response but knew it would serve no purpose. The detective didn’t plan to divulge the results of his investigation—if, in fact, he had investigated anyone other than me, which I truly doubted. I folded my hands in my lap, tightened my lips into a thin line, and decided I, too, would remain silent.

Save for the clopping horses’ hooves, the remainder of the ride passed in disquieting silence. When we arrived at the Galloway residence, the detective assisted me down. “If you decide to travel outside of Collinsford, you should advise me prior to your departure.” Dark pinpoint pupils bored into me while he awaited my answer.

“You will be the very first person to know.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Miss Brouwer.”

“I must admit that being suspected of a crime brings out the worst in me.” I took a side step around the detective. “Now if you will excuse me, I’m expected inside.”

Hurrying, I made my way up the stairs to Augusta’s room, which had the look of a baggage room at the railroad station. Trunks lined the walls and flowed out into the hallway. “I’m surprised your mother would entertain on the evening prior to your departure for the summer,” I said.

“The servants are the ones who suffer, not Mother.” Augusta leaned close to the mirror and pinched her cheeks. “I always appear too pale, don’t you think?”

“I never thought so, though you may be a bit pale this evening.” I closed the distance between us and picked up the hairbrush. “Has the detective made any further progress in locating your mother’s jewelry?” I drew the brush through her hair in long, steady strokes while watching her reflection in the mirror. To me, Detective Lawton had claimed to be making no progress, but who knew what he’d reported to the Galloway family. He might be closing in on his suspect, and if it was me, I wanted to know! When Augusta didn’t respond, I tugged on a strand of hair.

“Ouch! Do be careful, that hurts.” She touched her fingers to her head as though she’d been mortally wounded. “The last I heard, there was nothing to report. Tyson mentioned he thought you could very well be the most likely suspect, but I didn’t hesitate to tell him such an idea was utter nonsense.” Obviously embarrassed to relate the information, she turned her gaze away from the mirror. “The detective told my father he’d continue to work on finding the jewelry, but I don’t think Father holds out much hope the thief will ever be found.”