Redeeming Lies

by Samantha St. Claire

  The sound of rushing water must have drowned the sound of footsteps behind her. By the time she was aware of them a hand reached out to touch her shoulder. She jumped and turned to see David, his face dark and troubled.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I was trying to catch up to you before you turned off on the path."

  "What do you want?" Her tone was terse. She hoped that it communicated her desire to be alone.

  His expression only darkened, but he continued to stare at her until Maddie felt she would melt beneath his gaze. "I want the truth," he said.

  She looked away, her hands forming tight fists hidden in the folds of her skirt.

  "Maddie, Cummings asked me if the man on the platform was traveling with someone. I told him no because I truthfully didn’t see anyone."

  "So, why are you telling me?"

  "He asked me when you boarded the train."

  Her nails dug into the palms of her hands, but she held her tongue.

  "I lied for you, Maddie. I told him you boarded in Hailey." He reached for her arm, searching her face. "I lied for you."

  Maddie jerked her arm away, spitting back her answer. "I didn't ask you to."

  David's shoulders sagged. He released his hold on her arm, his hand falling limp at his side. "No, you didn't. But I did." The words stung, just as she felt sure he’d meant them to do. A heavy sigh and then he whispered, "I know you're in trouble."

  She couldn’t trust herself to look at him, choosing to turn away, staring off in the direction of the river. So much he didn’t know about her, her father, her miserable excuse for a childhood, her inherited talent for deceit.

  "Maddie, please. Let me help."

  "Why? Do you think you can cure me, doctor?" She hated herself for the question so cruelly thrown at him. He stepped back. "Well, no cure exists for my disease. It's genetic. And it looks like it might be contagious if you were persuaded to lie. I'd think you could see that I'm not a good person to be around." She took a step farther away from him, closer to the river bank.

  "Maddie, I don't believe that you could have anything to do with this. None of this makes any sense. It's not like you."

  She turned on him. "Apparently it is! It is just like me. What do you know of me? What do you really know about me?"

  He seemed to sway with the force of her anger. Regret added to the acidic mix of emotions already churning in her stomach when she saw the wounded look in his eyes.

  After long, silent moments, his answer came softly. "I know you are a kind and thoughtful woman, intelligent, clever and creative. For no personal gain, I see you as a person to care for others in need."

  His answer surprised her, the words hanging suspended in her mind. Four words stood apart from the rest, accusing her. For no personal gain. That was perhaps the greatest lie of all. What had she done since coming here but strive to achieve her own goals? Anything she’d done, was to preserve her own pathetic life.

  "Please, tell me the truth. Did you have anything to do with this crime Agent Cummings speaks of?" His voice changed, softened, pleading. “I need to know."

  A painful tightening in her chest gave her the sensation of what she imagined one must experience while drowning, lungs starving for air. She met David's eyes and searched them for the help she so desperately wanted. Then she shook her head and turned her back to him. He couldn’t save her from herself.

  "Maddie, you have to trust someone. You can’t carry this alone. Please, trust me."

  How often had her father warned her of confiding in people? Of course, he spoke as a confidence man. He knew how people could turn those confidences against you. But was this different? Her very life was threatened. She’d come to the end of her own abilities to deal with this new crisis. In that moment, she threw aside her father’s warnings, from trust no one to disappear. Like that drowning woman, she took hold of the rope he offered and reached out with the truth.

  She spun to face him. "The truth is that my father made his living as a con man. He ran one scam too many. A few months ago, he took me from school and we fled west to escape from . . . " She shook her head again. "I'm not even sure who we were running from. He told me only minutes before he died what he'd done. He gave me the money and told me that if something happened to him that I was to use it to disappear."

  Breathless, her legs quivering as though they'd not hold her longer, she sank to the river’s bank, tears rolling down her cheeks and dropping onto the grass.

  David knelt beside her, his hand once again resting on her arm. "Then why are you running? It seems simple. Can't you just return the money?"

  She looked away from him, a film of hot tears obscuring her vision. "I can’t."

  David drew his arm around her shaking shoulders. "Why don't we take this one step at a time? Tell the agent the circumstances—all of them. If it comes to a trial, I'll walk through it with you."

  She ran the back of her hand across her eyes and searched his face. "Who would believe me after the lies I’ve told?"

  "I think you’d be surprised. I don't think I'll be the only one who'll stand up for you."

  Covering her face with her hands, she sobbed, "I can't return it."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know where it is. It's not where I left it."

  "Well, that does present a problem." David and Maddie looked up at the same moment into the face of Mr. Cummings. David jumped to his feet, placing himself between the agent and Maddie.

  Cummings lifted a corner of his mouth into a wry grin. "Relax, Dr. Reynolds." Focusing on Maddie, he tipped his hat and said, "Miss Jennings, I presume."

  Mouth agape, David turned to her.

  Maddie closed her own eyes and shuddered as her sheltering coat of lies fell from her shoulders, exposing her to their examination.

  Cummings crooned, "I think perhaps we should go somewhere a bit more private and have a little chat."

  Chapter 27

  "You know, I would suppose, that your father angered a fair number of people in more than one city." Cummings relaxed into David's office chair, elbows casually resting on its arms, his fingers forming a sharp steeple. While on the surface he appeared relaxed, Maddie sensed tension in his features. Lines at the corners of his eyes, a twitch above his left eyebrow, the drumming of his fingers together told her he was far from at ease.

  He was well-dressed but not to the extent that his clothing would draw unusual attention. The tweed suit had a well-worn look, the cuffs frayed. His shoes had a shine to them, indicating he took some degree of pride in his appearance. What that meant further concerning his character she had yet to determine. No doubt, one possible explanation was his attention to details.

  David stood braced against the far counter that served as his pharmacy, looking either angry or disgusted. Maddie wished she knew which. She sat in the stiff-backed chair used by David's patients, feeling like one under the examining stare of the man across from her. More accurately, she imagined herself as a cadaver facing the man who would dissect her.

  She shivered despite the warm afternoon. "I knew only what he told me minutes before he died." Even to her ears, the words sounded false.

  "Hmm. That does seem difficult to believe and yet our agents were aware you attended boarding school up until a few months ago." He tapped his fingers lightly together, peering at her over a neat steeple of fingers. "Although, the question remains, doesn’t it? If you were not involved why did you go with him?"

  "He was my father, Mr. Cummings. He paid for my tuition, my board. What else would I be expected to do? He withdrew me from the school. I hardly had a say in the matter. Furthermore, I have no occupation with which to support myself."

  "Oh, but to the contrary. You seem to have found adequate employment here." His lips curled up, giving him a predatory appearance.

  Maddie drew her hands into her lap, clenching them tight, unwilling to allow the man to see them tremble. "I think necessity gave me the motivation to seek a way to support myself
."

  Cummings tipped his head to the side as though a different angle might reveal more. "By your own admission to Dr. Reynolds here, you had the bag of cash your father carried with him. I would have thought the money it contained sufficient to support a refined woman, such as yourself."

  She bit her lip, eyes focused on her cramping, white knuckles. Her temples throbbed. The answer seemed obvious to her. "It wasn't mine, was it?"

  "And you used none of it?"

  Maddie looked up to read the skepticism in the man’s face, the slight tip of one eyebrow and a twitch pulling at the corner of his mouth. In a small voice she scarcely recognized as her own, she said, "I did use a small quantity at the beginning." She glanced at David before adding, “But I've replaced it with my earnings."

  "But you say, you no longer have it in your possession. That seems a bit too convenient, Miss Jennings. Wouldn't you agree?"

  David drew himself up, his own hands clenched, face flushed. Looking more threatening than Maddie thought possible of him, he asked, "Mr. Cummings, why would she lie to you now? It seems quite within the realm of possibility that someone found the money." He took two steps across the room until he stood beside Maddie. His voice softened as he asked her, "Where did you hide it, Maddie?"

  "In the attic. I didn't think anyone would find it there." Her voice trailed off as realization struck her. Someone in the house probably knew her secret. Evan and Lena had seen her walk in with the satchel. Could one of them have found it? It wasn’t beyond reason to make such an assumption.

  David met Cummings’ gaze with one of equal steel. "It might be to your advantage to search the attic."

  Maddie shook her head slowly. "I did search it. It wasn't there."

  "Then perhaps someone found it and moved it to a safe location. I am certain other explanations exist that don't involve Miss Alex...." David stopped, his eyes clouded for a moment. He corrected himself, "Miss Jennings may be telling the truth, after all."

  Truth. Did he still think her possible of telling the truth after the lies she'd built up like a fortress around her?

  Cummings sat back, hands folded across his stomach, eyes narrowed. For a long, uncomfortable moment, he held her eyes, before shifting in his chair and leaning forward again. In drawn out words that were delivered as though to a slow drum cadence he said, "I suppose that is a possibility." His lip twitched upward as he added, "One thing is for certain. Apart from lying about her name, Miss Jennings does not display much aptitude for the life her father led."

  Maddie looked up, puzzled by the remark.

  "A criminal on the run would surely have the sense to make himself less conspicuous to his pursuers." He waved a hand in Maddie's direction as though simply looking at her made his point. "You're dressed fashionably. You've taken a position in a new bookstore that has brought your education to the forefront of the vast majority of Ketchum society. You've been seen frequently in the company of the most eligible doctor in town. The owners of both the mercantile and cafes know you by your tastes in fine clothing and fine food."

  He chuckled mirthlessly and slouched back against the chair. "Really, Miss Jennings, you may be your father's daughter, but you didn't inherit his penchant for deception."

  Mouth slack, she continued to stare at Cummings, processing his assessment of her so at odds with her own. A small part of her felt disappointment at his evaluation of her performance while her heart felt suddenly free of the dark self-condemnation. Was he correct?

  Dazed, she realized David had placed his hand on her shoulder as he said to Cummings, "Considering all of that, are you seriously thinking of taking her into custody? If you are this certain that she was not involved in the crimes of her father, then all she would need to do would be to return the money. Isn't that correct?"

  Cummings turned a dark eye upon him, saying, "Finding the satchel would certainly help her case, yes. We are a private detective agency, Dr. Reynolds. I'm here to recover what was stolen for those who employed us to do so. I might be able to persuade them to drop any charges against Miss Jennings." He turned to Maddie, piercing her with a look. "Perhaps if she cooperated fully. But we aren't at that point in the negotiations, are we?"

  David took Maddie's arm, assisting her to her feet. With a simmering voice he asked, "Do you think you might allow Miss Jennings the opportunity to explain herself to the Hartmanns before you come to search the house?"

  Cummings paused, obviously musing over David's proposal. "I suppose I can trust her into your care, doctor. If she disappears again and I ask you about it, I'm sure I'll know if you're lying." He chuckled again. "You really are a terrible liar, Dr. Reynolds."

  Maddie sat at the dining room table across from the somber faces of her friends. David stood near the door out of her sight. With a tightness in her chest, red-rimmed eyes watched their reaction. How could they possibly forgive her deceptions even if they were poorly executed?

  As Maddie had seen her do a dozen times, Lena stretched her hand out to place its comforting warmth over Maddie's cold hand. "Dear, Maddie, we knew you were in trouble a few days ago. I just wished you'd trusted us enough to tell us earlier. You poor, dear."

  There was so much more Maddie wanted to share with them. Now that she'd opened the door, she longed to tear down the walls as well, but she doubted their grace would be enough to accept the full truth.

  Evan pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, smoothing out the creases on the table. The familiar black-and-white image of her father stared back at her. "I saw this last week at the train station. Lena and I thought it might be you described on the poster. Didn't want to believe it, but got to thinking about how you came to us with nothing but that satchel, looking so scared and lost. It all just started to add up. In fact, it was like the final puzzle piece."

  Maddie began to see her deception in a different light. The guise she'd assumed had been thin at best. The truth that she’d betrayed their trust hit her like a fist to her chest. Her breathing came in ragged breaths.

  Bart blurted out, "If you had nothing to do with the theft, then they can't put you in jail, can they?"

  Jessie punched him with her elbow. "Bart! No one's putting Maddie in jail! She didn't do anything more than obey her Daddy." She screwed up her face into a dark scowl. "Since when is that a crime, I’d like to know."

  Ely quietly suggested, "Well, with that amount of cash, others might not think so."

  Maddie turned a puzzled look to Ely. "I didn't say how much money was in the satchel."

  Ely fixed Bart with a look, not answering. He stuck his pipe back between his teeth, clamping his lips tight around the stem.

  Bart looked sheepish. "I found the satchel, Maddie."

  "You did? When?"

  "Yeah, I was searching for a box of blankets and saw it wedged back under the eaves. Hadn’t noticed it before. I was just curious, you know."

  Jessie harrumphed and said, "We know."

  Maddie stiffened. "Where is it?"

  Ely coughed. "I have it."

  "You?"

  He shrugged. "Bart brought it to me. He knows I have a safe at the company for payroll. I counted it and hid it there." He pursed his lips, his eyebrows lifting. "Including the gun."

  David stepped to her side, smiling broadly. "Then that's all we need to clear your name."

  Maddie took a moment to process this new information, adding, "That is if Mr. Cummings can persuade them not to press charges against me . . ."

  The sound of the front door opening followed by rapid footsteps drew everyone's eyes to the entry hall. Mr. Cummings, looking pale, stood with his chest heaving as though he'd been running.

  Breathless, he said, "They're here. The Sicilians." He looked directly at Maddie, eyes wide with what anyone could read as fear. "I'm not the only one who found you."

  Chapter 28

  David drilled him with a look while the man struggled to compose himself. Unwilling to wait longer, he said coldly, "I think you need to explain yo
urself."

  Cummings opened his mouth to answer, but Maddie answered for him. "It must be the men my father said might come looking. He seemed more concerned about them than the Pinks."

  Bart exchanged a look with Jessie, then asked Maddie, "Pinks?"

  Jessie punched his arm, answering, "Pinkertons, silly. Everyone knows that."

  Bart's mouth formed a large 'O'.

  In spite of the questions hovering unanswered, the room grew eerily quiet. Evan finally broke the fearful silence and said, "So, it won't be enough to hand the money over to you."

  Cummings brows pulled together as he drew a beefy hand down his face. "Didn't think they'd come this far. Never heard of them . . ."

  Maddie had the sense the man was making the argument in his head, not intending to share his opinions with those in the room.

  "Still, they're known for their tenacity. Not unlike the Pinkertons, I suppose." He turned on Maddie, his face contorted with anger, eyes narrowed to slits. "Your father really got in with the wrong crowd. It wasn't like him to involve such thugs. Can't imagine what he was thinking."

  Bristling with her own rising anger, Maddie demanded, "How do you know so much about my father?"

  Cummings simpered, "We've been watching him for some time. That is our business!"

  Maddie opened her mouth to ask another question, but David interrupted, "So, what do we do now?"

  Lena offered, "Surely, we can reason with them. Perhaps we can find out how much they're owed and give them that sum."

  Cummings answered, cynicism dripping with every word, "You don't reason with the Sicilians. They reason with you in the form of knives and guns and, if you’re lucky, sometimes just the removal of a body part." He snorted. "You're lucky if it's just a finger."