by Beth Byers
“Except for the bruise Vi is hiding,” Victor shot out. He looked as furious as Jack, but her twin knew better than to lash out at her in worry and expect things to go swimmingly.
“You know I bruise easily,” Vi said smoothly. “I’ve got a dramatic one on my thigh that I can’t remember where I got. Stop being a mother hen.”
“Someone needs to mother hen you.” Victor sniffed and then sipped his cocktail as though he weren’t hiding his irritation. “You need a keeper.”
Vi lifted her brow, challenging his opinion with a solid stare. Their silent argument raged between them and ended when Victor’s cocktail was gone. He flagged down the waiter and then muttered, “Today is a day for aspirin before I’ve overindulged.”
Kate leaned past Victor and asked, “You are all right?”
“Of course we are,” Vi said merrily. “No tears hiding, no nightmares ahead. All is well.”
“For you,” Denny crowed. “I’m sure Jack and Ham have plans for Smith.”
“Smith can handle it,” Rita replied and then asked, “Is Isolde coming?”
Rita knew Vi’s little sister wasn’t coming. She’d said that Tomas was having a hard time with his shellshock and they were thinking of a long sail somewhere with a set of their friends. Vi shook her head and then further changed the subject by commenting on the singer.
The long, low wail of jazz was just what they needed and dinner proceeded more smoothly once Victor got his jibes in. Vi didn’t miss the dark looks between Jack and Ham, and she guessed that Smith would be getting a visit in the next day or two. The good news, however, was that Smith could more than take care of himself.
When the meal was finished, they decided to find their way to the park rather than dancing. Rita twirled under the stars, enjoying the drizzle the way only someone who almost worshiped the rain could.
Vi took hold of Jack’s hand, and pulled him into a dance with her. It didn’t matter that there was no music, she spun with him and he laughed enough that she knew she was forgiven, and he believed she was all right. That was all she needed.
When the late evening evolved into the depth of the night, they split up and returned to their homes. Then, Vi slipped into sleep with ease despite the fact that Jack’s fingers trailed, ever so gently, over the bruise on her arm.
Chapter 4
“Wake up, then,” Jack said with a low voice that was probably intended to be a gentle way to wake up, but her body immediately rejected the notion of rising to awareness.
His hand was gentle on her shoulder, and she grunted, trying to turn away.
“Vi—” he whispered low.
She shook her head against the pillow, refusing to open her eyes. They’d spent much of the evening dancing in the park and then they’d decided to indulge in cocoa and biscuits when they returned home. The late night by the fire had been fun at the time, now however, Vi thought less of it. She cracked her lids and found Jack staring down at her, those too-aware eyes of his moving over her face with a wealth of emotion behind them.
She started to speak, croaked and then tried again. “Why?”
“We’ve an appointment.”
Vi yawned and turned onto her stomach, curling into the bed and pillows. “I’m pretty sure I don’t have an appointment.” She closed her eyes, pulling the blanket over her head. “You could not have an appointment too.”
Jack, however, tugged the blankets back. “If you’re going to get in trouble, darling Vi, I should prefer you do so with me.”
Vi pushed up until she was sitting and scowled at him. His eyes didn’t have nearly the humor she expected. Jack was already dressed and the cup of coffee he was holding in front of her was not apology enough for getting dressed and then stealing her blankets because he didn’t trust her to stay out of trouble.
“It’s more than the appointment, Vi. Are you awake?”
There was something in his tone that made her focus on him. What was wrong? Her eyes roved over his face, but his expression was too closed to tell her anything.
“Rita has a doctor appointment, Vi.”
Vi’s mind snapped to awareness. “But she didn’t have an appointment yesterday.”
“Yes, I know. Since Ham is staying with Rita, I need you. Mrs. Meyers is a timid woman.”
Vi scowled at him. “Don’t sidestep.” The worry in his gaze was so evident now that Vi took the coffee and would have drained it except for the heat radiating from the cup. She yawned against her will and then shot him a look that demanded more information.
“Ham called this morning,” Jack said carefully. “Rita isn’t feeling well.”
Vi paused, knowing the worry in Jack’s gaze was from more than sicking up. “Is Rita all right?”
“She tripped on the stairs, Vi, and is cramping in her mid-section. They’re worried that—”
Vi gasped, throwing back her blankets and spilling the coffee on the bed, barely missing her leg. “Then let’s go to her!”
Jack caught her before she could dash off and pulled her down next to him to sit on the bed. “They called Kate and Victor last night, begging for Nanny Jane to come because of her nursing experience. The doctor is on his way as well as a woman who has been working as a midwife for over twenty years. Rita asked that we not come.”
“That we not come?” Vi pressed her hand against her chest, surprised by the fierce hurt.
Jack pressed a kiss to her forehead and whispered, “She doesn’t want to have to be brave in front of us, and she’s hating herself for falling. Ham says that…well, Rita—”
Vi took in a shattering breath, holding her chest as she did. She could well imagine how Rita might be feeling. The rush of terror and thrill of escape the day before, the dancing late into the night, the fall, all a risk to the baby, and Vi could see how Rita—especially an exhausted Rita—was blaming herself. Vi could imagine the guilt and the tears and knew she’d feel the same.
In fact, Vi wanted to blame herself for the incident the day before, but she knew that Rita had been fine. It was Vi who had been manhandled. Rita hadn’t been. What happened to Rita wasn’t what they’d done, and even if it were somehow linked, Vi wasn’t responsible for Rita’s decisions, Rita wasn’t responsible for Vi’s, and neither of their husbands were involved.
Vi stopped arguing with herself and got dressed and then telephoned Victor. “Have you heard anything from Nanny?” she asked without any sort of preamble.
“Yes,” he said, “she thinks it’ll be all right. The cramping stopped and Rita is sleeping.”
Vi breathed in weakly and then demanded, “But Nanny Jane is staying with Rita for now?”
“Of course,” Victor replied and Vi wiped a tear away quickly. “She thinks that Rita will be fine, but that she should be excessively careful.”
Relieved, Vi let Victor go to help with the twins, seeing as they had no nanny for the day. Vi ordered flowers and chocolates for Rita and then let Jack tuck her into a coat. They left their house and Vi found she needed to curl into his side while they drove. Without the words to pray, she poured her heart out and quietly begged that Rita and Ham’s baby would survive.
Her thoughts were fixated on Rita while they motored across London to a quiet little neighborhood. Jack stopped their auto near a small brick house just across the street from a park. Vi loved it immediately, as her own house was directly across from a park, and she’d discovered just what a great blessing that was. She took a deep breath in and tried to turn her thoughts from Rita.
The old woman opened the door for herself. She had long hair pulled back in a stringy bun that was a rainbow of grey hair. She frowned at Vi and then turned to Jack. “Where’s the other one?”
“A bit of a family emergency,” Jack said easily. “I thought you’d be more comfortable with my wife here.”
Vi tried to smile and wasn’t sure she accomplished anything more than a grimace.
Mrs. Meyers grimaced in return and then frowned even more deeply at Jack. “Why isn�
��t she home with your children?”
“Ah,” Jack cleared his throat. “We don’t have children yet, Mrs. Meyers. May we come in?”
She scowled as though she hadn’t hired him to do just that. Slowly, she stepped back and opened the door. The moment that Vi stepped through the doorway her eyes widened.
The hall had stairs to the second floor. The walls of both the hallway and the stairs were covered with cuckoo clock after cuckoo clock, broken only by doorways for a parlor and dining room and kitchen. The endless ticking sounds made Vi wince.
They stepped into the parlor and the old woman waved them to a settee near the window. As they approached, Vi saw that the upholstery was embroidered in very fine, even stitches of ivy and vines, but the name ‘Meyers’ was worked in larger stitches along the back cushion of the settee. Vi realized the woman had probably embroidered it herself.
They sat very, very carefully and then faced the woman, as a cat with long white hair entered the room. The first was followed by a second and then a third. As the old woman sat herself in a well-worn, plush chair whose color could not be determined under the crocheted doilies covering it, a trio of kittens came mewling into the room.
Vi turned from the number of cats to the room itself. It was full, bulging even, with an excess of cozy little crafts. Embroidered scenes, water-colored paintings, lace tatting, doilies, knitwear, and the like.
Vi contained her reaction and met Mrs. Meyers’s gaze again. “What a lovely home.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Meyers said sourly. She sniffed loudly and then asked, “Have you found him?”
“Mrs. Meyers,” Jack said carefully, “in order to find your son, we do need information about him.”
“Grandson.” Mrs. Meyers sniffed again, dabbed at her nose with an embroidered and lace-edged handkerchief and then muttered, “I told you his name.”
“Perhaps his place of employment?”
Vi froze internally, hiding her reaction and marveling at Jack’s composure.
“He’s currently without work.”
“The names of friends,” Vi suggested.
“He often visits the evening Sunday school.” The words were sour and there was such a twist to her mouth that it seemed as though they were hunting up her grandchild to take him away to prison rather than at her request.
“Good, good,” Jack said patiently.
“May I ask why you’re looking for him?” Vi asked gently, trying to channel how she might have spoken to any elderly woman.
“He hasn’t been home.” It felt like an accusation and Vi carefully didn’t glance at Jack to look for his reaction.
“Are you concerned that something has happened to him?” Vi again was gentle, and she guessed that she must be getting more information than Jack and Ham did if Jack was letting her take the lead.
“Yes. Clearly.” Another of those deep sniffs, but this time Vi reached out and took her wrinkled hand.
“You must be so worried. I understand he’s all you have left? Is there a family member that he might be visiting?”
Mrs. Meyers pressed her fingers to her lips as though the empathy were so foreign to her she wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. She dabbed a tear away and then said, “Well, there’s my brother-in-law.”
“What is his name?”
“Reginald Meyers.”
Vi patted Mrs. Meyers’s hand. “Does he live in London too?”
Mrs. Meyers nodded and muttered, “Alfriston.”
“Thank you,” Vi said, carefully patting the woman’s hand. “Is he close to your grandson?”
The sharp shake of Mrs. Meyers’s head was so fierce Vi simply nodded as if she understood completely.
“What about friends? Does your grandson have friends that he would be likely to go to or spend time with?”
The pause was longer and then Mrs. Meyers said nothing.
“My dear Mrs. Meyers,” Vi soothed, “friends sometimes bring us into trouble out of our love for them, when our better nature would otherwise triumph.”
“Just so,” Mrs. Meyers snapped. Her lips trembled and she whispered, “My Jason is a good boy.”
“Of course he is,” Vi agreed in a low, tender voice. “Of course he is. Well-raised, well-loved, perhaps too kind for his own good.”
“Just so!” Mrs. Meyers repeated, “Just so. Too kind for his own good.”
“Tell me about these trouble friends of his,” Vi suggested.
“Ted Tapper and his sister, Tessa. Jason has known them since he was in short pants. Back then…” Mrs. Meyers shook her head, looking off into the distance. “Back then, one might not have liked their parents as well as one would have wished. They weren’t troublesome then, it didn’t seem. Just…just…unregulated.”
“Of course,” Vi agreed as if she knew them as well. “Of course. Later, though—”
“Later,” Mrs. Meyers sniffed, “Tessa was the first to get into trouble.” Mrs. Meyers paused so long that Vi wondered if Tessa Tapper’s trouble had an answer that came nine months later. But finally, Mrs. Meyers added, “Too much makeup. Wanting to sing on stage. A little too loud, if you get my meaning.”
Vi had no idea, but she nodded as if she did. Too loud could mean anything from exuberant to hard of hearing. “What about this Ted Tapper?”
Mrs. Meyers scrunched her nose. “He always has a plan, doesn’t he? Some scheme to trick his way through life. Hard work, steadiness, that is what gets you where you need to go. I don’t hold with schemes.”
“I understand completely,” Vi agreed.
“Or loud laughter.”
“Of course,” Vi said. Did that mean untoward jokes and pranks? Did it mean mocking things Mrs. Meyers found sacred? Or perhaps, it just meant that unwanted exuberance that had crossed Vi’s mind before.
“My Jason is a good boy,” Mrs. Meyers said again, still fierce.
“He’s lucky to have such a reliable ally as yourself, Mrs. Meyers,” Vi said. “Did you raise him?”
“Well no, my son and his wife did.”
“Have they been gone long?”
Mrs. Meyers frowned and then muttered, “They’re always gone.”
The present tense had both Vi and Jack stiffening, but Vi hoped that her surprise didn’t cross her face. “Where do they go?”
“Oh they flit about. No steadiness. No ethics. Jason isn’t like that.”
Vi carefully paused and then asked, “And is Jason an only child?”
Mrs. Meyers shook her head and sniffed. “There’s Rebecca. Very squinty. Margaret. Spoiled. Young Thomas. Always full of shenanigans, and such terrible reports he gets from school. Very unlike my Jason.”
“Do I have your family tree right then? You have your son and daughter-in-law and your brother-in-law and your four grandchildren?”
“Well no, there’s Hannah as well.”
“And who is Hannah?” Vi asked carefully.
“My daughter. She has two daughters. They’re both quite tepid. A son, nearly as tepid.”
“Tepid?” Vi asked, but Mrs. Meyers didn’t explain what that inexplicable description meant. “Are we complete then?”
Mrs. Meyers nodded.
“And your dear Jason is long-time friends with the young Tappers? Was there anyone else who holds an influence over Jason?”
Mrs. Meyers frowned deeply as she sniffed. “You might talk to Bethany March.”
Vi was desperate to know who this March woman was and even more so to shake Mrs. Meyers for being so restricted with her information. Instead Vi asked, “How might we find her?”
“She’s the Reverend’s daughter.”
“Which church do you attend?”
Her answer was nearly as snappish as her responses had been at the beginning of the interview, but Vi simply let the woman mutter to herself and then reached in and took her hands again. “You want your grandson found?”
A sharp nod.
“And you want to know what he was doing?”
This tim
e there was a pause before she nodded.
“I’m sure that Jack and Mr. Barnes will be more than capable of discovering just that.”
Mrs. Meyers frowned and then wiped away a tear. Vi wondered if the waspishness was simply from being overcome with feelings. Her favorite family member had disappeared and she was worried. Worried and, perhaps, never indulged by her children and grandchildren.
“How long has he been gone?”
Mrs. Meyers sniffed again, pressing her handkerchief against her eyes before she answered. There was a bit of wail in her voice when she said, “A fortnight.”
Vi glanced at Jack while the old woman’s eyes were covered, still holding her hands. He nodded once and Vi guessed that he had enough to start.
“Jack will be in touch, Mrs. Meyers. If you’d like, I’ll return with him.”
The older woman nodded around her silent tears and Jack rose. Vi carefully stood as well, wrapping an arm around the woman and asking, “Do you need anything before we go?”
She shook her head, never removing the handkerchief and Vi squeezed her gently once again. “I’m sure you have Jack’s card. All will be well,” Vi promised, hoping she wasn’t wrong.
Chapter 5
“How do you do it?” Jack muttered. “That woman said nothing helpful yesterday. Ham said we should just decline her work, but he didn’t want to tell Smith we didn’t find out whatever is off with the woman.”
Vi grinned at him for a moment and then felt guilty for it. Rita. Ham. How was the baby? “I need to go home.”
Jack didn’t need an explanation for Violet’s thoughts, so he turned the auto towards home. The ride was quiet and she was overcome with anxiety. Finally she turned her thoughts to Mrs. Meyers just to stop endlessly circling around what was happening with Rita.
“Why did she say she hired you yesterday?”
“She said that her grandson was missing.”
Vi scratched her arm, realized it was the deep bruise making itself known, and carefully moved her hand away. It was too late to hide that her arm was bothering her and she glanced at Jack through her lashes to see if he’d noticed.
