Anna still felt little in her white toes. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, keeping them mostly covered with the blanket, but not so covered that the blanket would get wet. In fact, she was very careful not to get the blanket wet.
He took her feet in his hands and placed them in the bucket, massaging them under the warm water. Her toes began to hurt as they warmed. It was all she could do not to cry out.
The front door swung open with a blast of cold air. Joe Singer stood on the other side. He was mussed and hatless, icicles in his hair. His expression gave her heart frostbite.
Mr. Colbert dropped her feet.
“J . . . J . . . Jupiter.”
Joe simply stared at her. She was wearing a vest as a turban. She winced at the thought.
Her teeth chattered. “D . . . d . . . detective S . . . S . . . Singer, this is M . . . M . . . Mr. Colbert. He s . . . s . . . saved my life, although I probably w . . . w . . . would have been fine.”
Joe squinted at Mr. Colbert. He did not smile. He did not extend his hand. He shimmied out of his wet coat, unbuttoned his shirt, crossed the room, and wrapped the shirt around Anna’s shoulders. Now there were two men in their underwear. At least there was that.
“What happened?” said Joe.
“W . . . well, I met with Mr. Grayson, but he was d . . . dead. Then Mrs. Grayson made me drink a nasty p . . . potion. I got away, but it was dark and cold, so I hid in their stable and slept with the goats. Then, I borrowed their mule, but it bucked me off in the snow and ran away. I was just crawling the rest of the way, when Mr. Colbert came along and kindly offered me a ride on his horse.” Anna smiled at Mr. Colbert. He smiled back.
Joe rubbed his face. “You could have died.”
“Yes, but that’s not my fault.”
The room had warmed from the fire, and Anna started to thaw. Her trembling subsided.
Joe sighed and looked up. “Mr. Colbert, thank you for saving my strange fiancée—”
“He means estranged,” said Anna.
“Anna, why don’t you give him his clothes back. I’m sure Mr. Colbert wants to be on his way. We owe you a debt of gratitude.” He didn’t look grateful.
Anna unwound her turban. She knew what she must look like—an orangutan in a bad wig. The men turned their backs, probably because of her face. A sob welled up, surprising her. She bit her lip to hold it down as she undressed beneath the covers. She took off both men’s shirts, then put Joe’s shirt back on. She took a deep breath. “Mr. Colbert, here are your shirt and vest. Can you stay for dinner? There must be food here somewhere. Joe can boil eggs and make rice. And I can’t do anything.”
“Mr. Edmands could come home any minute. He won’t like finding us here, but he might shoot Mr. Colbert because he’s an Indian.” Joe turned to Mr. Colbert. “We don’t want to trouble you any further.”
Mr. Colbert looked at Anna with probing eyes. He must have sensed Joe’s anger. “My home is one hour’s ride from here. I can take you with me.”
“She stays with me.”
“Thank you, Mr. Colbert,” said Anna. “But I have to interview Mr. Edmands. I’ve come all the way from Los Angeles to do it.”
“Will you be safe? I won’t leave if—”
“I’ll keep her safe,” said Joe. “I’m a cop.”
Mr. Colbert looked unimpressed.
Anna winced as she stood in the basin on her thawing feet and extended her hand. “Mr. Colbert please keep in touch. You can reach me at the Los Angeles Police Department. And can I send your Christmas card general delivery? Are there many Mr. Colberts in town?
“I am Miko. Miko Colbert.” He took her hand.
“And I’m Miss Anna Blanc. A N N A B L A N C.”
Joe looked impatient.
“Thank you for everything.” She shook, then let Mr. Colbert’s hand drop.
Miko walked to the door and opened it. He cast a backward glance at Anna.
“I’ll write,” she said.
And then Miko Colbert was gone.
“You’re mad.”
“You think so?”
“How did you find this place?”
“Anna, I wouldn’t bring up Sergeant Tribble. Did you eat?” Joe took a summer sausage out of his bag and hacked off a piece with his knife.
“Of course. I had pork chops, lamb chops, chop suey—”
He strode over and popped the sausage into Anna’s mouth, silencing her. She devoured it, then opened her mouth like a baby bird. He fed her another chunk.
She chewed and swallowed. “I’m sorry—”
“It’s not enough.”
“I’m sorry, but my brother’s neck is on the line, and as far as I can tell, it’s up to me to save it. How did you get away?”
“I don’t keep all my money in one place. And now, thanks to you, I’m considerably poorer.”
“Oooh. Joe Singer paid off a cop. I didn’t think that was in your repertoire.” She hobbled to the window on sore feet and peeked out after Mr. Colbert. He was riding off on his magnificent black horse. “I’d never met an Indian before. It’s strange but I almost think Mr. Colbert liked me.”
“Have you looked at yourself lately?”
Joe had a right to be angry, but his words were a punch to her gut. “I just thought . . .” Her voice trembled. “It’s not like you to be cruel.”
A shaving mirror hung on the wall. Joe unhooked it and brought it to Anna. She averted her gaze. He moved the mirror so that it was in front of her face. She closed her eyes.
“Anna, look.”
“No.”
“Look.”
She opened one eye. The mirror needed resilvering. She opened two eyes and saw her reflection, speckled with gray. Her mouth was not distended. Her face had returned to its original heart shape. Her rash had faded from angry red to a delicate shell pink. Dark moons encircled each eye, but her eyes were large and wide again.
Anna no longer resembled an orangutan. Mrs. Grayson’s potion had worked.
“I’m beautiful.”
“I told you.”
“Would you still love me if I had stayed ugly?”
“I don’t know. In that scenario did you rob me, steal my clothes, and run off to Oklahoma?”
It had been a stupid, irrelevant question. Anna regretted it.
Joe stared out the window while she dressed in her own clothes, which he had brought from Yuma. She didn’t ask to borrow his comb, but carelessly arranged her hair without one. Anna needed to focus on the crime or her heart would explode. She tried to think of Georges and not Joe.
“I interviewed Mrs. Grayson.”
“Poor Mrs. Grayson.”
“You have no idea.” Anna wandered over to a dresser where a wedding photograph stood in a wooden frame—likely Mr. and Mrs. Edmands. The fashion was from the right time period. She picked it up and pocketed it. “It was very important. You see, Mr. Edmands is notoriously violent. People believe he killed his wife. And he threatened to kill Samuel. He’s a suspect.”
“Good work, Sherlock. We’ll find him and interview him.” He withheld his customary smile.
“Yes, but Mr. Edmands isn’t here. At least he hasn’t been here all day. His stove was cold when we arrived.”
“There are animals in the barn.”
“There’s no perishable food in the kitchen. It’s dusty.” She ran a finger along the table and showed him her dirty fingertip.
“All right. There’s a house nearby. Let’s talk to the neighbor and find out where he’s gone and when he’s coming back. But first . . .”
“What?”
He gave her a hard look. “Give me back my badge.”
Mrs. Cindy Snyder lived in the adjacent farmhouse. She opened the door when Joe knocked. When he flashed his badge, she invited them in for coffee. The woman was weathered, and had few teeth and fewer visitors, Anna guessed. Patches covered both of her elbows yet, she gave them the last of her sugar. The coffee tasted weak, as if she were trying to stretch
it. Anna felt guilty for drinking it and for everything else she’d ever done or said in her life. She pinched herself. She dropped two coins of penance on the floor, although the money was Joe’s or maybe the LAPD’s, she didn’t know. Anna added a bill.
While Anna explained their mission, Mrs. Snyder worked her jaw the way toothless people sometimes did, like a cow chewing Juicy Fruit. “Mr. Edmands is gone.”
“When did he leave?” asked Joe.
“In January.”
Anna turned to Joe and raised her eyebrows. “He’s violent, has motive, and Oklahoma City is no longer his alibi.”
“That’s a long time to be away from his farm,” said Joe.
“My husband and son have been tending to his durned animals.”
Anna and Joe exchanged a shocked look. The lady had sworn in front of a cop. Anna smiled sweetly. “Do you know where he went?”
“No. But he was looking for Flossie, asking everybody in the whole durned town. He must have gotten a lead and followed it. I told my husband not to watch his animals so that Edmands couldn’t go. Durned fopdoodle didn’t listen.”
Joe spun a quarter on the table. “How could Edmands track them down if even Samuel’s family didn’t know where they’d gone?”
Anna said, “Maybe Samuel Grayson told Edmands where to find Samara Flossie. He was a man scorned. Maybe it was revenge. Or maybe it was love. Maybe he thought Edmands would rescue her from the Jonquil.”
“That’s kind of risky given the dad wanted him dead,” said Joe.
“It’s a small town. Everyone knows everyone. Everyone’s in everybody’s business, right?”
“R ight,” Mrs. Snyder chimed in.
“They couldn’t just sneak away. Someone would have seen something. Edmands just had to find that someone.” Anna leaned back in her chair. “And who would have seen something?”
“Those durned railroad men.”
They spoke little as they rode double on the back of Joe’s rented horse. They were silent as they returned the horse to the stable and walked to the train station.
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Anna. “You think that even if Georges didn’t kill Samuel Grayson, that he still might be the Black Pearl. You think that’s why he went to convalesce.”
Joe closed his eyes and sighed. “I was thinking I got a headache. I was thinking it hurts too much to think.”
Joe quietly lounged against a pole while Anna inquired whether Mr. Edmands had come to ask about his daughter and Samuel Grayson, and whether the Blanc railcar was ready for the next train west.
The ticket seller looked nervous. “I didn’t tell him anything. But he bought a ticket to Los Angeles.”
Anna smiled and made I-told-you-so eyes at Joe.
The ticket man called the station master who regretted to inform Anna that her railcar was on its way back to La Grande Station, as they did not know where she had gone and so had telegrammed her father for instructions.
“Biscuits!” said Anna.
Anna and Joe ate silently in a café adjacent to the station. She ordered chicken and dumplings, Indian fry bread, meatloaf, and apple pie. She ate her own food, and Joe let her eat half of his headcheese sandwich. Afterward, they returned to the station in time to board. They rode third class, next to the toilets.
Anna lifted her chin. “Georges will be home by now.”
“I really don’t think so.”
CHAPTER 39
When the train arrived in Los Angeles, Joe escorted Anna back to Georges’s hotel without comment. They had been gone for nearly two weeks. Anna felt dirty, exhausted, and ruined—out of place in a hotel with such a large chandelier. The dangling crystals cast rainbows onto the marble floor. She collected her pretty fish key from the front desk. “Did the Southern Pacific send my trunk and hats? I left them on Mr. Devereaux’s railcar.”
“Yes ma’am. They’re in your room. A maid has unpacked and laundered your clothes.”
At least she had her clothes back. At least something was right in the world.
It was early evening, and a different boy manned the elevator. He politely stared at his shoes. She wondered where the other insulting boy had gone. Joe walked her to her door. She put her key into the lock and then stopped. She turned to face Joe. “I don’t want you to come in. In fact, maybe you should go.”
Joe blew out a breath. “All right.” He took a few steps backward, his eyes on Anna. “Good night, Sherlock. Whatever happens, you know I love you.”
Anna didn’t answer. He swore, turned his back, and disappeared into the elevator along with half her heart.
His love for her, her love for him, and her love for Georges, exhausted Anna. She had no idea what came next, or where Georges was. Home, she hoped, and well after a good rest in some therapeutic location. Still, she braced herself in case the apartment was indeed unoccupied. Joe was so convinced Georges was on the lam, he didn’t even stay to check.
Anna opened the door and Thomas came striding to meet her. “Miss Anna, good evening.”
Anna smiled. “I didn’t expect you. I mean I did.”
Georges came from his study, saw her, and grinned. “Well hello!” He seemed exceedingly cheerful for a man accused—like someone walking on clouds.
“Hello!” she beamed at him. If Joe could see Georges now, surely it would dispel his suspicions.
Georges took Anna’s hand. “Where have you been?”
Anna thought it best not to say she had gone to hunt Georges, especially as he had come home. “I went to Oklahoma City to investigate a suspect in the Samuel Grayson murder. Where have you been? Are you well?”
“Another suspect. That’s a relief.” He grinned. “And Joe went with you?”
“Yes, but I didn’t let him ride in your railcar.”
He chuckled. “You mean our railcar.”
She smiled despite everything, because his cheer was infectious. “Georges, I met your dear mother.”
Georges blinked. His smile melted. His brows drew together, then relaxed, then drew together again. “Why? She’s not your mother.”
This stung Anna, though it was true. Georges had never been cross with her before, and he had just been so happy.
“I was looking for you. I didn’t know where you’d gone, and Joe said it would harm your case if you missed your court date.”
“Well, I didn’t, did I?”
“I’m sorry.”
He collapsed into a chair and put his head in his hands. “No, I’m sorry.” His words sounded stiff with anxiety. “Anna, I can’t see inside your mind. What are you thinking?”
“That this shouldn’t come between us!” “If it ever came out, it would.”
“It wouldn’t.”
“You see now why I can never marry?”
“Because if your children came out with dark skin, they wouldn’t be accepted. You wouldn’t be accepted.”
“I’d probably just go back to France. But I don’t want to.”
Anna came over and knelt by his chair. She put her hand on his shoulder. “Marry or don’t marry. But don’t leave me again. I didn’t know where you’d gone. Joe thought you’d fled. Your mother said you’d gone to Yuma.”
Georges smirked. “Yuma? Really? Well, that’s funny.”
“Why?”
“She lied. You know she’s a very religious woman.”
“Where did you go?”
“I went to Santa Barbara. There’s a quite comfortable hotel there. The Arlington. It’s beautiful. I’ll take you sometime.”
“Yes, I know it! I would love to go. And I get ten days off a year.”
“You don’t say?”
CHAPTER 40
Anna clipped into the station, happy because she had a viable murder suspect who was not her brother, and dreading the pile of work she would undoubtedly face. There were prostitutes to employ, truants to find, Friday Morning Clubs to appease, children to reform, and refugees to feed. Then, of course, there was the problem of Matilda. An
na only hoped the women’s department had not been too busy, and that Matilda was still in the jail to help her.
Detective Wolf followed Anna up the stairs to her storage closet. “Assistant Matron Blanc, welcome back. Where have you been, and have you found Eliel Villalobos?”
“I’ve been . . . um . . . following a lead. A very promising lead. In fact, Eliel Villalobos has been spotted several days journey outside of the city. Naturally, since he is a very important criminal, I had to investigate, with Matron Clemens’ permission, of course.”
“Yes. That must have slipped her mind because she was asking me where you were.”
Anna shook her head and tut tutted. “It must be hard being old.”
“Assistant Matron Blanc, she’s only forty. But never mind. I told her you were looking into something for me.”
“And I was. The truant. I am very close to cracking the case.”
“That’s good, Assistant Matron Blanc.”
“I’m sure I’ll have your truant found by the end of the week. I have people working on it.”
“People?”
“Yes, you know.”
“I don’t know, but I’m afraid to ask. And I noticed Detective Singer was also away on a case.”
“I couldn’t care less.”
“You have a nice day, Assistant Matron Blanc.” Detective Wolf winked.
Anna winked back badly to be polite. He grinned and departed. She heard his footsteps moving down the stairs. Matron Clemens entered the small storeroom where Anna sat at her desk. “Assistant Matron Blanc, you disappeared.”
“No. I mean, yes. Detective Wolf sent me on a very important secret mission that I can’t speak about. It was urgent, and I left under the cover of night with no chance to tell you where I’d gone.”
“I see,” said Matron Clemens.
“How are Matilda and all the ladies in the cow ring.” Anna braced herself for a hard truth.
“Matilda has been a great help in your absence.”
Anna’s shoulders relaxed. “So, she’s still lodging with us?”
Matron Clemens looked serious. “For now.”
The Body in Griffith Park Page 25
