The first person to send a ransom was thirty-year-old Martin Lewis. Once he was caught and questioned, he admitted to just needing money, but he never did have the girl, nor did he know what happened to her.
The elder Mr. Westland wrote notes about times he walked down the street and did nothing but study every little girl who passed by to see if she had long brown hair and a light patch of freckles on her nose. Mr. Westland even traveled to the surrounding areas outside Illford just to see if the girl was there. Dead ends greeted him everywhere.
Madison’s mind drifted back to what she was doing at that time. Was it before or after her parents had died in the furniture store? Madison had always wondered why she hadn’t died with them. Where was she during that fire?
How far away was the furniture store from Gretchen’s? And...if this all happened around the same time, would the little girl have wandered into the furniture store by accident and died, too?
Hope sprang in her chest. This was definitely a possibility. The only way to get answers was to find someone—maybe from the Metro Police—who was old enough to have been working during that time. Once again, she would have to rely on Cameron for help.
“I just had a thought,” she said, lowering the papers.
She hadn’t realized that Cameron had walked around behind his desk and was sitting in his chair, watching her. His expression looked different than before. Almost serene and satisfied.
When she caught him staring, he quickly sat up straighter in his chair and returned to his solemn countenance.
“What is your thought?” he asked.
“I was wondering what I had been doing around this time. I don’t know if it was before or after my parents died in the fire.”
“You don’t remember what month it was?”
She shook her head. “All I know was that it was springtime.”
“Then it’s a possibility it was around the same time. Why?”
“Because if there was no trace of the girl, I’m wondering if she somehow wandered into the furniture shop the same day it caught fire and killed my parents. That might be a reason why your father couldn’t find anything about the girl’s disappearance.”
Cameron stood and walked around the desk toward her. “That is actually a good idea. I think it’s worth investigating. Are you up to visiting your aunt and uncle and asking them?”
She shivered in disgust. “No. I’d rather not have to look at Agnes or Giles Haywood ever again. However, I’m wondering who at the station would have been working around that time who might know.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “There’s only one way to find out.”
She smiled. “I’m ready when you are.” She stood and placed the papers on his desk.
Sighing, he took her hands in his and smiled. “I was so worried you would hate me for what I discovered in my father’s notes.”
Madison cocked her head slightly. “Why would I hate you?”
“Because you’d been wrong about Rosie.”
“Oh, Cameron.” She cupped the side of his face as her heart softened. “I would never hate you for proving me wrong. I was actually very relieved that your sister wasn’t the missing girl. I thought for certain I had lost you. I have a habit of speaking what’s on my mind, especially right after I’ve had a vision.”
He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I’m happy that is out in the open now.”
“As am I.”
Cameron walked to the door and opened it. Seconds later, Rosie rushed inside. Her eyes were swollen and red and her cheeks were wet from tears. She hurried right up to her brother and clutched his arm.
“Cam...I cannot let you keep the man I love in prison. He is innocent!”
Groaning, Cameron rubbed his forehead. “Rosie, we have already discussed this.”
“No we haven’t. Not fully,” she pleaded.
“We will have to save this for another time. Miss Haywood and I are on our way to the station—”
“Gaynor is innocent, I tell you.” Rosie’s voice lifted. “And the reason I know he is...is because I was with Gaynor the very night Mr. Bailey was killed. I was with Gaynor...all night.”
Madison sucked in a shocked breath, but it didn’t match Cameron’s hiss of distaste. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Sorrow hung heavy in Madison’s chest. The scandal Cameron didn’t want was certainly going to make its debut now.
TWENTY-ONE
Cameron didn’t know which emotion to go with at this particular moment. Should he scream at his sister and call her lewd names. Should he shake her senseless? Or should he kick her out of the house and disown her from the family?
Decisions, decisions...
He opened his eyes and met Rosie’s watery gaze. What kind of girl had he raised? And why did he feel like this was all his fault?
He moved his gaze to Madison, who looked quite embarrassed for both him and Rosie. And yet, his little sister didn’t seem to be ashamed at all.
Rosie wiped away the moisture from her cheeks and breathed slowly. “We really need to talk, Cam. Now.”
He nodded and looked back at Madison. “Forgive me, but—”
“There is nothing to forgive.” She offered a polite smile, even though he could tell she struggled with it. “I shall wait outside for you.”
“No. Why don’t you have Mrs. Trumble make you—”
“Cameron.” She placed her hand on his arm. “I’d love nothing more than a stroll around your estate. It’s such a lovely day, too. I’ll be outside waiting for you.”
Sighing, he nodded. “I won’t be long.”
“I know.”
Madison left the room, closing the door behind her. Rosie walked to the black leather chair and sat, keeping her eyes on him. Cameron really wasn’t ready to talk. His anger had simmered slightly from her sudden outburst, and especially her confession. But he needed to get this over and done with and push it aside so he could help Madison.
He cleared his throat. “So you were with Gaynor all night?”
“Yes.” She lowered her head as she twisted her fingers in her lap.
Something on the edge of his memory jerked him alert. What is she talking about? Hadn’t she told him yesterday that she’d not seen Gaynor the whole time Heath had held her prisoner in the attic room?
Anger shot through him hotter this time, and he bunched his fists. She was lying to keep Gaynor out of prison. Either that or she’d lied to him yesterday so that he wouldn’t try to strangle the man she claimed to love. How would he know which was the truth?
“Rosie, I don’t know if I can believe anything that comes out of your mouth, anymore.”
Her head snapped up and her eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know whether you lied to me just now, or yesterday when you mentioned that you hadn’t seen Gaynor the whole time you’d been locked in the attic.”
A blush spread through her face at a rapid speed. Whether she knew it or not, she’d just given him her answer. He was almost relieved that his sister wasn’t a hussy, and yet, she was willing to lie about it just to save a murderer.
“You were not with him all night, were you?” he asked, but continued without waiting for her answer. “In fact, when I had arrested Gaynor, he appeared genuinely relieved that you were back home because he hadn’t seen you for a week. That tells me you were not with him at all.”
Rosie released a sob and covered her face with her hands. “You don’t understand. You have arrested the wrong man.” She sniffed and dropped her hands back to her lap. “There’s no possible way Gaynor could kill Mr. Bailey. He loved his cousin. They were very close—like brothers. I’m quite certain that if Mr. Bailey wouldn’t have given Gaynor a loan, he would have at least helped him locate employment. And he would have allowed us to live there for a while until we could earn the money we needed to start our lives together.” She brushed her fingertips underneath her wet eyes again. “You just don’t know Gaynor
like I do.”
“And knowing him only two weeks makes you an expert on the man?” Cameron shook his head. “I think not, dear sister.” He moved closer to her and leaned down to peer into her face. “Tell me, Rosie. With a wealthy uncle like Lord Hanover, why didn’t Gaynor ask him for a loan?”
She pouted. “Because that old geezer has been greedy for years now. He stopped trusting people after his precious daughter was taken from him.”
Cameron grumbled under his breath as he tried to control his temper. “Rosie, I’d rather talk to Lord Hanover about his nephew. That man, out of anyone, would know Gaynor and what kind of man he really is.”
“Will you talk to him then?” Hopeful eyes stared up at him. “Would you at least consider that Gaynor might have been set up? After all, Heath was staying in Mr. Bailey’s house along with Gaynor. He might have an alibi for that night. He could have left his cane at the house, too. Perhaps the true killer is Heath and he was trying to set up Gaynor to take the blame.”
“Why would he do that?”
Rolling her eyes, she snorted. “Because Heath was just as desperate for money...more so, in fact. Mr. Bailey allowed Gaynor to stay there, but he refused to let Heath. That despicable man hadn’t lived there until right after Mr. Bailey’s death. Heath always gambled away the money he earned, and Mr. Bailey didn’t want to deal with his cousin’s mistakes any longer. After Mr. Bailey died, Lord Hanover told the two cousins he would decide which one inherited the estate and all that was entailed with it. I believe Heath felt as though his uncle would not pick him, and rightly so.”
Cameron silently groaned. Rosie made sense. He definitely didn’t like it when his sister made him look incompetent. Thankfully, it didn’t happen very often.
“Then I shall look into it. When I’m at the station, I’ll tell the captain of my doubts and see what he says.”
She released an audible sigh and her shoulders sank. “I would appreciate it if you would. I think you’ll be surprised who the real killer really is.”
“We shall see.” He gave her a sharp nod.
She stood and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tight. “Forgive me for lying in front of Miss Haywood. I was so desperate. I didn’t know what to do.”
He lifted her chin until she met his eyes. “I don’t abide being lied to, so when I return, we’ll think of some kind of punishment.”
“Yes, I know.”
He kissed her forehead. “Now I must leave. Miss Haywood and I have things to do.”
A slow smile spread across her face. “I knew you liked her.”
Before he could give away any more of his feelings for Madison, he hurried out of the room and out of the house. Scanning the yard, he looked for Madison’s beautiful long, dark brown hair, and the lovely gown which was the color of daffodils. Because of what she wore, he’d think she’d be easy to spot, but he couldn’t see her at all.
“Madison?” He called out, and not hearing her answer he went back inside and called for Alice. She meandered down the stairs with a book in her hand.
“Have you seen Miss Haywood?”
Her head snapped up and her eyes grew wide. “She’s here? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Because she was here for me, not you.” He frowned. If she wasn’t with Alice, or outside, where was she?
Cameron ran outside again and all the way around the house, calling her name. But he still couldn’t find her. Worry escalated the longer he searched. She wouldn’t have gone to the station without him.
Suddenly, a thought struck him like a brick between the eyes. Heath Langston was still out there...and by now, he would be pretty upset that Cameron and Madison had rescued Rosie.
Fear froze his blood. Because Langston had a fierce temper, would he have sought revenge by taking Madison?
MADISON’S HEAD SPUN around as if the world was tilting. Someone had whacked her over the head and she had passed out. The pain in her skull caused her stomach to churn. She gagged, quickly coming alert to her surroundings.
Madison’s body jerked in a steady motion, which didn’t set well with her stomach. Something was wrapped around her head, and her arms were tied in front of her. Immediately, panic consumed her, and she struggled to breathe. She’d never been able to tolerate such enclosed spaces.
Fear clutched every nerve in her body. Her stomach lurched and she gagged again. Terror turned into desperation, and she brought up her hands, yanking at the covering to pull it off. The fabric was wool...and smelled like horses. Must be a horse blanket.
Thankfully, she was able to remove the barrier. The bright sun made her squint, but at least she could breathe easier. However, her head continued to pound which made her stomach lurch.
She was lying in what looked to be the back of a farm wagon as it jolted her body back and forth. What had happened to her? The last thing she remembered was walking outside the house and turning the corner on her way toward the garden in the back. Pain had rushed through her head for a brief moment before darkness invaded her thoughts.
She tried to lift her head, but the throb on the back of her skull wouldn’t let her move. Breathing deeply—in through the nostrils, out through the mouth—she tried to bear the pain. Confusion ran amok through her mind, but the one thing she did know was that someone had taken her against her will. Who would do something like that?
Finally, she could look around without it being too painful. Trees waved from overhead as a small wind blew through their branches. Birds flapped their wings in flight. They were definitely not in town. Her guess would be they were far from civilization.
Doing the best she could, she scooted around to get a look at the driver. Seeing only the back of his head wasn’t going to help her to know his identity. But his hair was a darker shade of chestnut and long enough to brush the collar of his black overcoat. Nobody sat beside him on the seat. By the rhythm of the wagon, she assumed they were going pretty fast.
Relaxing her body, she tried to calm her fiercely beating heart. Why would anyone want to kidnap her? Was it because she knew so much due to her visions? And yet, the only people who would know this would be Cameron, Rosie, and Alice. The only bad people she was aware of were Gaynor and Heath, and Gaynor was in jail...
She hitched a breath. But Heath hadn’t been arrested at all. He had a violent nature because in Madison’s vision, he struck Rosie across the face.
Madison lifted her head again and studied him better. Although she hadn’t been able to see him well in her vision, she recalled what he’d looked like when she and Cameron went to Mr. Bailey’s house. Chestnut hair...slender...black overcoat.
She’d bet money this was Heath. A cold shiver raced through her. She wasn’t meek like Rosie, and if this fool lifted a hand to her she wouldn’t hesitate to punch him in the face. But if he kept her hands tied, that method of self-defense wouldn’t be an option. However, she did have strong legs and she knew of ways to kick that could make a mule groan in agony.
Finally, the wagon slowed and turned down a deep slope. She slid on the wagon, but thankfully, not very far. The road became uneven, jolting her back and forth. Gritting her teeth, she fought against the pain in her skull. The movement, combined with her throbbing head, made her nauseous again. If only she had something in her stomach, she’d gladly deposit it all over her kidnapper.
The wagon came to a stop. Her driver set the brake and jumped down. As he walked to the back, his gaze locked on hers. Just as she figured, it was the devil himself, Heath Langston.
“Ah, you are awake. How lovely.”
He’ll think lovely in a minute when she scratched his eyes out. “How long have I been unconscious?” she said with a dry throat.
“We have been on the road for approximately twenty minutes.”
“Where are we?”
Shaking his head, he tsked as he scooped her up in his arms. “Miss Haywood, do you honestly think I’m going to tell you that?”
Her cheek pressed against his ch
est as he carried her into a rundown shack. He smelled like alcohol...a lot of it. In fact, he even swayed as he walked. Would the middle-aged man trip over his clumsy feet and drop her to the ground? Holding her breath she waited for that impact. Thankfully, he made it into the shack. He wasn’t very gentle with her and practically tossed her on the cot in the corner of the room. Pain shot through her head, and she grimaced.
There were probably only two rooms in this tiny shack. A small fire heated up the room they were in. Three rickety wooden chairs sat by the hearth, and a broken bookshelf with only four books stood near the door. The two windows were covered by what appeared to be ripped bed sheets.
Madison struggled to sit up against the wall, and although her whole body ached, she managed to get in a position where she could watch him—and use her legs if necessary. “Mr. Langston, would you please tell me why you kidnapped me from Mr. Westland’s home?”
Heath shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I take you? After all, Inspector Westland took Rosie away from me.”
He pulled out a flask from his coat pocket, unscrewed the lid and gulped down the liquid inside. Madison didn’t need to ask what was in the small bottle. She could smell the alcohol from over here.
She arched an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware Mr. Bailey’s house was given to you...and the reason we took Rosie was because you were keeping her against her will.”
“That’s not entirely accurate. If you remember correctly, Rosie had willingly come to the house.”
“To meet Gaynor.” She raised her voice.
“True, but within time, I would have convinced her that I was the man for her.”
So he was in love with Rosie, too. Madison couldn’t stop the snicker that bubbled out from her mouth. “Are you certain? How could any woman love a man who leaves bruises on her face?”
He glared at her as he tossed back another swallow of the vile drink. “You’re quite a mouthy woman, aren’t you?”
She shrugged. “I say what’s on my mind, if that’s what you mean.”
“I don’t like women who are so vocal.”
Madison's Gift Page 24
