The Mystery Woman (29 page)

T
he following day Joshua stood with Victor in the pouring rain. Together they watched as the casket containing Emma’s body was lowered into the grave. A clergyman murmured the ritual words.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust . . .”

Victor’s legs were shackled. His right arm was in a sling. Three constables stood respectfully nearby. A black police van waited at the iron gates of the cemetery. But in spite of it all, Victor stood proud and undiminished, still a commanding presence, still the brilliant and mysterious Mr. Smith.

Beatrice and Nelson waited some distance away. A somber funeral attendant held an umbrella over Beatrice’s head.

When the solemn service was concluded Victor reached down with his left hand and scooped up a clod of wet earth. He tossed it down onto the casket. He straightened, closed his eyes in silent prayer and then he looked at Joshua.

“Thank you,” he said. “I should have said my goodbyes to her long ago. Now it’s done and I am free to seek my own peace tonight.”

Joshua did not speak. There was nothing to say.

Victor looked at Beatrice. A melancholy smile flickered at the edge of his mouth. “I congratulate you on finding a woman who will always know your heart. You are a fortunate man.”

“I’m aware of that,” Joshua said.

“Does it strike you as ironic that you might never have found her if it hadn’t been for me?”

“Yes,” Joshua said, “it does.”

“Your nephew reminds me of you at that age. Smart, fast, with a bit of talent. He is looking to you for guidance now that he is coming into the fullness of his manhood. You have a task ahead of you. I know you will not fail him.”

“Everything I know about being a man I learned from you,” Joshua said.

“No.” Victor shook his head. “You became what you were meant to be. All I did was help you uncover the strength inside you and teach you the discipline and control you needed to handle it. If that strength of spirit had not been there at the start, there is nothing I or anyone else could have done to endow you with those qualities.”

“I will miss you, Victor.”

“You are the son of my heart,” Victor said. “I am very proud of you.”

“You came into my life when I needed you. You saved me from myself. I will never forget you.”

Victor was quietly pleased. “That is good to know. Goodbye, my son.”

“Goodbye, sir.”

The constables led Victor to the police van and ushered him into the iron cage. Joshua watched until the carriage clattered away into the rain.

After a while he realized that Beatrice had come to stand beside him.

“We said our farewells,” Joshua explained. “He told me that he will find his peace tonight. He will be gone by morning.”

“Shackled as he is?”

“He will find a way,” Joshua said. “He is Mr. Smith.”

He took Beatrice’s arm. Together they walked through the rain to where Nelson stood waiting for them.

N
elson told me that he
intends to undertake instruction in meditation and the martial arts from you,” Hannah said.

She sounded resigned, Joshua thought, but at the same time accepting. They were in his study. He was propped against the edge of his desk, his cane close at hand. Hannah was at the window, gazing out into the small garden. She had arrived on his doorstep a short time earlier. One look at her face had told him that Nelson had spoken to her of his plans.

“I made it clear that he would have to inform you of his decision before I would begin the lessons,” Joshua said. “But it is his decision, Hannah.”

“I know that. I’ve always known it. I wanted to protect him.”

“I understand. But he has become a man. You cannot protect him any longer.”

“You are right, of course.” Hannah turned to face him. “Beatrice and I talked. She said that the most generous gift I could give Nelson would be to remove the chains of guilt that I have placed on him. When he told me of his decision, I tried to do that. I said I understood and that he had my blessing.”

“I’m sure he appreciated that.”

Hannah smiled faintly. “I also told him that I could not imagine a finer mentor and teacher than you.”

Joshua hesitated. “I’m surprised to hear you say that.”

“Beatrice pointed out the obvious to me. She said that Nelson had clearly inherited the Gage talent and that the most prudent thing to do with such a gift was to learn to control it and channel it in a responsible manner.”

“It’s not the Gage talent that Nelson inherited. It’s the Gage temperament.”

Hannah smiled. “Call it what you will, I certainly do not want Nelson to continue down the path he has been following for the past few months, gambling and drinking to excess.”

“You knew about that, did you?”

“Of course. He is my son. At the rate he was going he would have come to a bad end, just like Papa.”

“Nelson is not like our father, Hannah. He is his own man. He needs to discover what it is that he was born to do.”

“But what is that?”

“I don’t know,” Joshua said. “But in time he will find his own path.”

Hannah turned away from the window. “Will you find yours now that Victor Hazelton is gone?”

He tapped his fingers together, wondering how much to tell her. She deserved the truth, he thought.

“I have been approached by the people to whom Victor once reported,” he said, “people at the highest levels of the government.”

Hannah was appalled. “They want you to take his place?”

“Yes.”

Hannah closed her eyes. “I see.”

“After discussing the matter with Beatrice, I declined the post. I do not want to return to a life in the shadows. I want to walk in the sunlight with Beatrice and—if we are blessed—with our children.”

Hannah frowned. “Somehow, I cannot envision you turning your back on what you do best—finding that which is lost.”

He sat forward. “Beatrice said much the same thing. You are both correct, of course. I intend to become a private consultant who specializes in finding people and things that have disappeared. But I will choose my clients with great care. Not everyone who is lost wants to be found.”

T
he wedding reception was held on the grounds of Crystal Gardens. It was the second time within the span of a few months that Abigail and Sara had been invited to the nuptials of a former employee. Evangeline Ames—now the wife of Lucas Sebastian, the owner of the Gardens—had been the first bride to be married there. As one of Beatrice’s two closest friends, she had insisted on arranging the reception for Beatrice and Joshua. Clarissa Slate, having successfully concluded her recent case, was the bridesmaid.

The day was sunny and warm. In addition to Evangeline and Lucas and Clarissa, Hannah Trafford and her son, Nelson, were among the guests.

The grounds of the mysterious estate looked considerably less ominous than they had the last time they had all gathered there, Sara thought. The level of paranormal energy had definitely been reduced, although Lucas had explained that due to the properties of the ancient underground spring in the center of the gardens, nothing would ever be normal about the plant life that thrived there.

One could not run decades of bizarre paranormal experiments in a garden as Lucas’s uncle had done and not expect to come up with some very dangerous results, Sara thought. There was a tremendous amount of psychical energy in the botanical world.

She stood with Abigail near the buffet table and watched Beatrice and Joshua talk with Lucas and Evangeline near a fountain. Joshua and Lucas had obviously become friends. Perhaps it was because they were both so much alike when it came to character and spirit, Sara thought. Both would do whatever was necessary to protect the ones they loved. They shared something else, as well. Joshua was still reluctant to put any credence in the paranormal, but there was no doubt in her mind that he possessed a measure of psychical talent.

“Our Beatrice looks absolutely radiant, doesn’t she, Abby?” Sara whipped out a hankie to dab a small tear away from the corner of her eye. “And look at the way Joshua is standing so close to her. One can see the strong bond between them. He would ride into hell to protect her.”

“You are such a romantic,” Abigail said. She munched a lobster canapé. “But you are right. Joshua’s injuries sent him into seclusion for a time but they did not break his spirit. There is steel in that man. It is good to see that the shadows that always seemed to envelop him are gone.”

“Thanks to the healing energy of love.”

“I am happy for both of them, of course,” Abigail said briskly. She picked up another canapé. “But it strikes me that at the rate we are losing our agents to marriage, Flint and Marsh will soon be bankrupt.”

“We will find other agents,” Sara assured her, unperturbed. “And it is not as though we have lost their services. The four of them have made it clear that they are available for consultation on future cases.”

“Bah. Perhaps we should close the doors of Flint and Marsh and go into another business.”

“Such as?”

“Matchmaking.”

Sara chuckled. “We do seem to be rather good at it, don’t we?”

“Evidently, but there’s more profit in the investigation business.”

“True.” Sara looked at Nelson, who was in animated conversation with Lucas’s brother, Tony, and his sister, Beth.

“It strikes me that instead of reinventing ourselves as matchmakers, perhaps we should consider expanding the investigative services of Flint and Marsh,” Sara said.

“What do you mean?”

Sara tapped one finger against the buffet table. “Young Nelson appears to have inherited talents that are quite similar to those of his uncle. There have been times of late when it would have been helpful to have had a bodyguard available to protect one of our agents who was exposed to danger in the course of a case. I wonder if Nelson would be interested in that sort of work.”

Abigail narrowed her eyes. “Why don’t we inquire?”

—

BEATRICE WATCHED HER
former employers
approach Nelson, Beth and Tony.

“Hmm,” she said.

Evangeline, Joshua and Lucas all turned their heads to see what had attracted her attention.

“What do you suppose Mrs. Marsh and Mrs. Flint are up to?” Evangeline said. “They appear to be on a mission.”

“Yes,” Lucas said. “There is something very determined about that pair.”

“If there is one thing I know about Mrs. Flint and Mrs. Marsh, it is that they are excellent businesswomen,” Joshua observed.

It was impossible to hear the conversation that was taking place on the other side of the rosebushes, but it was not difficult to see what was happening. Nelson was paying close attention to what Mrs. Flint and Mrs. Marsh were saying. The more they talked, the more enthusiastic he appeared.

“Something tells me that Nelson will soon be engaged in a position with Flint and Marsh in the near future,” Beatrice said.

“I believe he is at long last on his way to finding a career,” Joshua said. “Hannah will be thrilled.”

Beatrice winced. “I doubt it.”

“She will understand,” Joshua said. “I was very much like him when I was that age.”