by Lori Wick
“Mr. Jenness is in the office,” Mr. Leffler explained. “May I tell him who wishes to see him?”
“The name is Troy Thaden. I’m with Conner Kingsley.”
“Very well, sir,” Mr. Leffler said graciously, not needing any information beyond the man’s name. Troy Thaden’s name was as well known in the world of banking as the Kingsley name. “If you’ll give me a moment.”
Troy nodded, his eyes not missing a thing.
“Mr. Thaden,” Mr. Jenness said as he came rushing from his desk, his heart beating painfully. “I didn’t expect you, sir.”
“We were ready a number of days early and realized we wanted a coach in town with us, so we didn’t take the train,” Troy said kindly, willing to give this man the benefit of the doubt. “We arrived late last evening.”
“Were you able to get into the house?”
“Yes, Mr. Kingsley has a key.”
“Please come in.” Mr. Jenness led the way and waited for his guest to take a seat. “Is Mr. Kingsley not with you this morning?”
“He asked me to begin on my own,” Troy explained.
“Well, yes, all right then.” Mr. Jenness stumbled a bit and then lied outright, “I’m happy to help in any way I can.”
“Excellent,” Troy said, opening the small satchel he held on his lap. “I have a few questions here. I’ll just get my papers.”
Sweat seemed to be pouring from every part of Mr. Jenness’ body. He didn’t know when he’d felt so nervous. He tried to tell himself he had nothing to fear, but the argument was falling flat in his mind.
“I think I’d like to ask you about this woman, the indentured servant,” Troy began, and Mr. Jenness relaxed. He had thought this one of his more brilliant ideas.
“Certainly, sir. Reese Thackery was indentured to a man who owed us a good deal of money. When his holdings did not cover the debt, I kept her papers in an effort to earn some of the bank’s money back.”
“I see,” Troy responded, able to keep a look of interest and not judgment on his face. “And how is Miss Thackery earning money for the bank?”
“Well, she readied Mr. Zantow’s house and property for auction.”
“Mr. Zantow?”
“He owned her papers.”
Troy nodded, unwilling to admit that this was all familiar to him. He’d read the bank report, but he wanted to hear it from Mr. Jenness’ own lips.
“Go on.”
“She cleans the bank building, and when word came that Mr. Kingsley’s house needed to be readied for your arrival, she also took care of that.”
Again Troy nodded before asking, “Anything else?”
“Well, she’s at the Berglund home right now. They had a fire in their kitchen.”
“And is the Berglund home owned by the bank? Is it being readied for sale?”
“Well, no, but you see, Opal is a relative of my wife, and,” Mr. Jenness stopped. He hadn’t meant to admit that.
“And what of your home?” Troy was astute enough to ask. “How often does Miss Thackery clean there?”
“It was only a few days.” Again Mr. Jenness answered when he hadn’t intended to.
“And how is she living, Mr. Jenness?” was Troy’s next question.
“How’s that?” The banker was turning more pale with every breath.
“I assume she lived with Mr. Zantow, but the bank has no facility to house someone. How is she living?”
“She boards with Mrs. Greenlowe.”
“How does Miss Thackery pay Mrs. Greenlowe?”
“I give her a stipend.”
“How much?”
“Four dollars.”
“A day, a week, a month?”
Mr. Jenness could hardly breathe. He had thought that this news would be so well received, but even though Mr. Thaden didn’t look upset, the line of questioning was making him look like a complete fool. How did he think that this would make money for the bank? Right now Mr. Jenness could not recall.
“Mr. Jenness?” Troy pressed him. “How often do you give Reese Thackery her stipend?”
“Monthly.”
“And she’s able to live on that?”
“She’s found room and board.”
“That’s good to hear,” Troy commented. “I shall need to see the books next,” he went on, “and I want to get into the safe as well.”
“The safe?” Mr. Jenness asked, panic clawing at his throat.
“Yes,” Troy replied as though nothing was amiss. “Strictly routine.”
“I have to go home,” Mr. Jenness suddenly blurted out; he even went so far as to stand.
“Are you all right, Mr. Jenness?” Troy asked in all sincerity. “Maybe you should sit down.”
“No, I have to go home. I’m sorry, Mr. Thaden. I don’t feel well.”
“It’s all right. I can see you there.”
“No!” Mr. Jenness’ voice came out rather sharp. “I’ll just go.”
The bank manager stumbled away from Troy and across the bank to the front door. No one was around save Mr. Leffler, who watched the scene in surprise.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name,” Troy began.
“Leffler, sir.”
“Tell me, Mr. Leffler, does Mr. Jenness suffer from ill health?”
“At times he does, sir. Was he ill just now?”
“Yes, it seemed to come on suddenly.”
Both men stood looking toward the front windows of the bank, even though Mr. Jenness was far from view.
“Were you aware of this situation with the indenture papers, Mr. Leffler?”
“I was, sir.” That man’s voice dropped with disapproval. “I witnessed them.”
“And what did you think of the whole affair?”
Before he could answer, a customer came in. Troy knew there was something to be learned here. He asked the bank teller to come to the alcove office when he was free.
Reese didn’t mind working at the Berglund house. Opal Berglund could be scattered-brained, but she was kind, and she seemed to genuinely appreciate Reese’s help. They talked of various things as they worked side by side, and not once did Reese have the impression that Opal thought her position better than Reese’s. In fact, she seemed to be interested in Reese’s life and asked her a number of questions.
“Is it easier working for the bank or Mr. Zantow?”
“It was predictable with Mr. Zantow, and sometimes that can be nice,” Reese answered tactfully, fully aware that this woman was some sort of relation to Mr. Jenness’ wife.
“And what of the Kingsley house? Was that interesting to clean?”
“It was. I’ve never seen a house like it.”
“I knew Nettie Kingsley,” Opal confessed and then began to reminisce. “She didn’t get out much in her later days. She certainly loved her grandchildren.”
Reese listened with only half an ear. The smell of the smoke-charred kitchen was a little strong at times. It helped to have all the windows and door open, but Reese was beginning to see that this might become a long day.
Even at the risk of losing his job, Mr. Leffler was honest with Troy. He did not speak out of turn, but when asked a question he was direct with his response.
“You didn’t have a chance to give me your view, Mr. Leffler.”
“Holding the papers was not something I understood, sir. I would have liked to have seen Reese gain her freedom. She’s a good girl.”
“How old is she?”
“I’m not sure, maybe 20.”
“And did she fight Mr. Jenness at all? Did she argue her case?”
“She insisted that she have something to live on. That was the only struggle I knew about.”
Mr. Leffler had no more answered when he was needed at the counter. He had taken a seat in the alcove that allowed him to see the door and excused himself as soon as someone came in.
Troy looked through the papers that were still on the desk. Everything looked in order, but this was a fraction of the documents that needed to be in
spected. By the time Mr. Leffler returned to him, Troy had decided, at least for the moment, what he wanted to do.
“If you could give me directions to Mr. Jenness’ house, I’m going to check on him. I’ll be going to dinner after that and checking back here later.”
“Very well, Mr. Thaden.”
“One last thing, Mr. Leffler. Can you get me into the safe at some point today?”
“Certainly, sir. Anytime you wish.”
Troy thanked him, his face showing nothing, but inside he was pleased.
“You can say I told you so,” Reese began when she found Mrs. Greenlowe in the garden.
“Look at the soot on you!”
“We worked past dinner. Would you mind fixing me a plate?”
“Didn’t Opal offer you something?”
“Yes, but I wanted to get away from the smell for a little while, so I told her you had food for me here.”
“Well, of course I do!”
Mrs. Greenlowe having gone into the kitchen, Reese sat down on the ground, her back against the fence, and waited for her food. It had not been a bad morning, and she liked to stay busy, but she only had two dresses and was concerned that at this rate they would not hold up.
It had not been much of an issue at Mr. Zantow’s. She had done all aspects of housework and not simply cleaning. Cleaning was tough on fabric, especially when things were so dirty.
“Here you go.” Mrs. Greenlowe talked all the way down the porch. “You eat all of that now.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Reese took the plate before bowing her head. She kept her prayer brief, knowing she had to get back to the Berglunds’.
Mrs. Greenlowe had grabbed the old wooden stool she kept outside and sat nearby. Reese could see she was ready with questions, and it occurred to her in that moment that she was this woman’s window to the world. Mrs. Greenlowe didn’t leave her house or yard much but depended mostly on word from other people to tell her what was going on in town.
Reese ate swiftly and answered questions just as fast. Unfortunately for Mrs. Greenlowe, she didn’t know much. She had to remind her landlady that she was not allowed to ask how the fire had started. Her job was to work.
“Thank you,” Reese said as she stood and gave her the plate.
“You’re welcome. That bank manager doesn’t have another job for you this afternoon, does he?”
“I don’t think so. I’m sure I’ll be at Berglunds’ the rest of the day.”
“Take care now” were Mrs. Greenlowe’s final words. Reese only waved, planning to do just that.
“Hello,” Lillie said, greeting the man at the door rather coldly.
“Excuse me,” Troy offered, his hat in hand and his tone kind. “I’m looking for Mr. Jenness.”
“Well, he won’t be here,” she replied, frowning. “He’s at the bank at this time of the day.”
“Actually, he said he wasn’t feeling well and was coming home.”
Lillie blinked and stared at him.
“I’m sorry to have disturbed you,” Troy said as he read her look over his news and began to back away. Lillie’s voice stopped him.
“Who are you?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Troy Thaden. Are you Mrs. Jenness?”
“I am, yes. Who are you exactly?”
“I’m here with Mr. Kingsley. I’m his business partner.”
“Mr. Kingsley’s here?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So the bank is being audited.”
“Not exactly. It’s just been a long time since anyone has visited.”
For a moment she stood in silence and then asked, “Why did my husband leave the bank?”
“He said he wasn’t well. Has he not been here?”
She shook her head, her face pale. “I’ve been home all morning. Maybe he went to dinner early. He eats at the tavern.”
Troy wasn’t going to look all over town for this man. It was not his job. However, he wanted to be gentle in the way he handled this.
“When you see your husband, Mrs. Jenness, will you please ask him to come to the bank or send word to me as to when he’ll be returning?”
Mrs. Jenness could only nod. Troy thanked her and went on his way. He wasn’t aware of the way she moved to the window and watched him, hoping beyond hope that history wasn’t about to repeat itself.
“How did it go?” Conner asked as soon as Troy returned to the house.
“You won’t believe it. The man looked like his heart was going to stop in his chest, and then he left.”
“Left for where?”
“He said home, but when I went there, his wife said she hadn’t seen him.”
“What did you talk about that got him so upset?”
“We started on Reese Thackery’s situation. At first he seemed pleased with his decision to retain her papers, but the more I questioned him, the more strained he became. When I mentioned seeing the books and the safe, he said he was ill and had to leave.”
“But he didn’t go home?”
Troy’s brows rose as he wondered whether Mr. Jenness realized how bad this looked for him.
“I didn’t get a chance to buy anything for lunch. Let’s go to the tavern and eat.”
“I’ll get my coat,” Conner agreed.
Not until they were almost to the tavern did Troy remember that Mr. Jenness might be there. Part of him hoped they would not see him. Right now he just wanted to eat dinner in peace.
The morning had not been easy for Conner. He had walked around the house, unable to fend off the memories of the place.
He could still see his grandmother sitting in her favorite chair but couldn’t hear her voice anymore. He could envision his parents, Dalton, and his sisters around the dining room table when all of them would visit Tucker Mills. In the later years of visiting the family home, Conner would come with just one of his sisters, usually Maggie. They were the youngest, and their lives hadn’t taken the busy tone of his older siblings’ lives yet. They still had time to come and see Grandma, especially after Grandpa had died.
With the memories and feelings that surrounded him, Conner wanted out of the house for a while. He’d forgotten how beautiful the area was. It was a warm day—a little too warm, actually—but he didn’t plan to be out long or overwork his mount. He escaped to the barn and saddled one of the horses they’d brought, planning to head toward the outskirts of town for a long, leisurely ride.
“Has there been word from Mr. Jenness?” Troy asked Mr. Leffler when he returned to the bank.
“No, sir.”
“Did I see you at the tavern for dinner?”
“Yes, I was there.”
“Did anyone mention seeing Mr. Jenness?”
“I was asked about him, but no one had seen him.”
“Is this normal behavior for Mr. Jenness?”
“Not at all, sir. He’s very punctual and conscientious.”
Troy stood for a moment in indecision.
“And what of Miss Thackery? Will she be in today?”
“She was in this morning and was given her job for the day.”
“Cleaning a house, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, the Berglund home—a kitchen fire.”
“When does she come back again, in the morning?”
“Exactly.”
“Mr. Leffler, thank you. I’m going to start on the files. Tell me if Mr. Jenness or Miss Thackery arrives back.”
“Did you want into the safe, sir?”
“Probably not today.”
Mr. Leffler went back to work behind the counter, thinking of the times he’d wondered how he would do as the bank manager. At the moment, he couldn’t have been happier that the position was filled by another man.
Seven
Reese got to the bank at the normal time on Saturday morning, the key in her hand so she would not forget. Preparing to smile and greet Mr. Leffler, she stepped inside as she always did but found him coming around the counter to meet h
er.
“There’s someone here to see you, Reese.”
Reese stared at him, trying to gauge the serious look on his face. Mr. Leffler was usually so cheerful.
“His name is Mr. Thaden, and he’s using Mr. Jenness’ office.”
“Where is Mr. Jenness?”
“Feel free to ask Mr. Thaden,” Mr. Leffler said, following his instructions.
“Have I done something wrong?”
“Not at all. You’ll like Mr. Thaden.”
Reese nodded and looked toward the alcove. As usual, the bookshelves kept her from seeing anything, so she went that way.
Troy, who had heard every word of the conversation, was looking up when she came into view.
“Miss Thackery?”
“Everyone calls me Reese.”
Troy came to his feet. “I’m Troy Thaden.” He held out his hand, and Reese shook it. “Please sit down.”
“Thank you.”
Reese took a seat and looked at this well-dressed businessman. He seemed kind, but Reese was still under the impression that she might have committed some infraction. Not until she felt the key biting into her hand did she realize how tense she was.
“Mr. Thaden,” Reese began. “I have the key to the Kingsley house. Should I leave it with you or Mr. Leffler?”
“Actually, why don’t you hold onto it for the moment. There’s some business I need to discuss with you.”
“Did Mr. Jenness ask you to?”
“Not exactly.” Troy worked to be gracious, already impressed with this young woman. She was not unlike his own two girls. “Are you aware that the Kingsley family owns the bank here in Tucker Mills?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I work with Conner Kingsley, and the two of us have come to check on this bank and assess how business is progressing. Some changes will be made, and some things will stay the same.”
Reese nodded again, not sure what any of this had to do with her.
“Mr. Jenness was under the impression that having an indentured servant would be to the bank’s advantage. On the other hand, Mr. Kingsley and I do not think it the best idea, so we’ll be turning your papers over to you. You are no longer an indentured servant.”
