“Yes.” Callie glanced out the window, where the earlier rain shower had steadily worsened into a downpour. “You could probably find him at the workers’ quarters since he wouldn’t be able to give lessons in this rain.”
Mr. Crocker peered at her as though she’d lost her senses. “The workers’ quarters?” He shook his head and turned to the detectives. “I believe you’ll find Mr. Townsend in his suite upstairs or perhaps in the dining room.”
“No. There must be some mistake. I’m speaking of Wesley, who teaches at the golf course. He is an employee, not a guest.”
“On the contrary, Miss Deboyer. Mr. Townsend agreed to assist us by acting as the golf pro, but he and his family are guests in the hotel. I don’t know how you came to the conclusion he was living in the workers’ quarters.”
The room seemed to swirl around her, and she massaged her temples. Wesley was related to Blanche Townsend and Helena Kennebec, two of Mrs. Bridgeport’s acquaintances who were staying at the clubhouse? “Are you absolutely certain we’re talking about the same man?”
Mr. Crocker nodded. “Absolutely. In fact, I’ll go and fetch him right now.”
Callie clutched her handkerchief in her palm. Her heart shattered. He’d said his family was wealthy, but she hadn’t imagined they were here on the island—staying in the clubhouse. He’d obviously been toying with her affections. No wealthy family would allow any bonds between a governess and one of their sons. And he knew that as well as she. How could she face him now? “I don’t know if I want to speak with him at this moment, Mr. Crocker.”
Detective Fitch uncrossed his legs and leaned forward to rest his forearms across his thighs. “It really doesn’t matter what you want, Miss Deboyer. I want to question Mr. Townsend and see what he has to say about the dates and times you allege he was with you.”
Callie couldn’t grasp what was happening. Only hours ago she’d been packing to depart for Biscayne. Only hours ago she’d believed that Maude Murphy was a strange but kind woman who cared about her and the Bridgeport children. Only hours ago she’d believed Wesley was a golf pro living in the workers’ quarters. Only hours ago she’d thought he loved her.
Her head throbbed and her mind spun like a top. Was her whole life simply one big lie?
Chapter 24
Callie’s breath caught in her throat when Mr. Crocker returned with Wesley close on his heels. While the superintendent moved to his chair, Wesley stepped close to her side.
Callie’s eyes traveled from Wesley’s dark brown sack coat and matching waistcoat to his perfectly creased beige trousers with turnups that revealed matching spats. Judging from his appearance, Mr. Crocker had been correct. Wesley Townsend wasn’t a mere golf pro.
“Callie.” Wes whispered her name, and when she didn’t look up at him, he grabbed a straight-backed chair and placed it beside her. He dropped to the chair and leaned close. “Mr. Crocker didn’t tell me you were here. Are you all right? What’s going on?”
She looked straight ahead. “I might ask you the same thing, Mr. Townsend.” She spoke his name with intentional harshness.
“Callie, my family and I being guests at the clubhouse is part of what I was trying to explain to you when you rushed into the house to care for Lottie.”
“That’s enough!” Detective Fitch interjected. “We brought you in here because we need to speak to you, Mr. Townsend, not because we hoped the two of you could settle some lovers’ quarrel.” Fitch picked up his notepad. “We have questions for you.”
Callie gasped and Wesley snapped around on his chair. “I don’t know who you are, but if you want me to answer any questions, you’ll use a civil tone with both Miss Deboyer and me.”
“I’m Detective Fitch and this is Detective Jensen. We’ve been hired by the owners of Bridal Veil to investigate the jewelry thefts that have taken place on the island. We’ve been working on this case for some time now, and there are still some loose ends. It’s those loose ends we need to discuss with you, Mr. Townsend.”
“Am I to assume you’re discussing those loose ends with Miss Deboyer, as well?”
The detective nodded and pushed his notepad across the desk. “I’d like you to look at these dates and times and tell me if you can recall where you might have been at those particular times.”
Wesley picked up the notepad and scanned the dates. “Do you have a calendar I might look at, too?”
Mr. Crocker jumped to his feet and scurried around the desk. He thrust his calendar at Wesley. “Please use mine, Mr. Townsend.”
Callie frowned at the superintendent’s ingratiating tone and behavior. He certainly hadn’t rushed to her aid. Of course, she wasn’t a member of the Townsend family.
Wes glanced back and forth between the calendar and the list while tracing his finger down the page. “I believe I would have been with Miss Deboyer and the Bridgeport children during all of the times you have listed here, Mr. Fitch.”
“Really? Strange that you could devote so much time to them while acting as the golf pro.”
Wesley straightened his shoulders and glared at the man. “Are you questioning my word, Mr. Fitch? Why would I lie about such a thing?”
For the next fifteen minutes, the detective detailed their investigation and the involvement of Maude and Archie. He then added his belief that Callie might be involved due both to her inability to prove her whereabouts and to the statements from Mrs. Murphy and her son.
Wesley started to get up and gestured for Callie to do the same. “Now that I’ve explained, there shouldn’t be any further concerns regarding Miss Deboyer.”
Detective Fitch motioned them back to their chairs. “Not quite yet.”
Wesley stopped short. “And why not? I’ve told you Miss Deboyer was with me.”
“I know you’re a reputable fellow, Mr. Townsend, but being a detective means I can’t let that interfere with getting to the truth.” He cleared his throat. “Since I’ve heard tell, and it does appear that there may be a bit of an ongoing romance between you and Miss Deboyer, I can only assume you might—please note I said might—lie for her.”
Callie sparked to attention. “There is no ongoing romance between us, Detective.”
Wesley’s jaw twitched. “If you weren’t going to take my word, Detective Fitch, why did you bother to ask me about her whereabouts?”
The detective shrugged. “I have to check out every possible lead. That’s my job. And the fact that Miss Deboyer didn’t even know who you were is somewhat bothersome and could make me question your honesty, Mr. Townsend.”
“I didn’t tell Miss Deboyer who I was because I didn’t want to be governed by the strictures society places on people of different classes. I quickly discovered Miss Deboyer is much like me—unimpressed with the trappings society considers important. I feared she would reject me if she knew I was a guest at the hotel.”
“I won’t argue with you, but I don’t know many women who would be displeased to learn their suitor is wealthy, Mr. Townsend.” Fitch tapped the notepad with his pencil. “Can you think of any other way I can verify what the two of you have told me, Mr. Townsend?”
“Perhaps you could quiz Thomas. I spent much of my time teaching the children about botany, particularly young Thomas. He doesn’t know anything about what is happening in this room. If you take him aside and ask him, I’m sure you’ll be satisfied. I could even write down a few questions you could ask him about the flora and fauna of the island.”
Detective Jensen leaned over his rotund belly. “Flora and what?” He nudged his associate. “Are those more women?”
Wesley sighed. “No. I’m speaking of the plants and animals here on Bridal Veil Island.”
“Oh, right, right.” The detective’s face turned a deep red. “I misunderstood.”
Wes nodded. “There seems to be a good deal of misunderstanding in this room.” He looked at Callie. “Where is Thomas? If the detective thinks he can take the word of a thirteen-year-old, I’ll go and get him.
”
“Not necessary. We wouldn’t want him to speak to you before we talk to him.” The detective shifted his attention to Callie. “Where would we find the boy, Miss Deboyer?”
“Both Thomas and Lottie are at Fair Haven with Jane and Lula, the Bridgeports’ servants. At least I hope that’s where they are. Since I’ve been here in this office with you, I have no way of saying for certain, Detective.”
Callie teetered between anger and fear, but her patience had grown thin as time passed, and she simply wanted to be on her way to Biscayne.
Detectives Fitch and Jensen spoke to each other, and soon Detective Jensen departed, presumably to get Thomas. She hoped he wouldn’t frighten the children—or the servants. Poor Jane and Lula had been beside themselves with worry when Callie had been summoned to the superintendent’s office for questioning. No telling how they would react when Detective Jensen reappeared at the front door.
Wes leaned close. “You look pale. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Physically, yes.”
“Is there any word about Daisy?”
Callie shook her head. “I’ve heard nothing directly, although Lula stopped at the hospital before coming to work this morning. Daisy was still a patient, but they wouldn’t give her any information since she isn’t a member of the family.”
“I had hoped to hear Daisy had been released.” He rubbed his hands together. “I do hope it wasn’t a brown recluse spider bite. They are quite dangerous and difficult to treat.”
“How do you know? More of your botany studies?”
Her tone was sharp, and his eyes clouded when he looked at her. “It’s information I learned in school. We need to talk as soon as you’re permitted to leave here. There’s a great deal I need to tell you.”
“That has already become obvious.” As soon as she’d spoken the words, Callie silently reprimanded herself. She didn’t want to sound like a shrew, but how could Wesley think she would want to talk to him? Even though he’d known how much she valued trust, he had betrayed her.
When Wesley attempted to explain further, the detective silenced him. “I don’t want you two talking any more until we’ve questioned the boy.”
Callie folded her arms across her waist and stared at the detective. The entire matter was a waste of time—time that could be used to sit with Daisy and give Mr. and Mrs. Bridgeport a reprieve from what must be a worrisome and tiring experience, especially with no help traveling with them. The moment she was free from this office, she’d gather the children, see to the luggage, bid Lula and Jane farewell, and be on her way to the hospital in Biscayne. Thoughts of sweet Daisy suffering from the spider bite renewed Callie’s concern, and she bowed her head and prayed for the child.
“Doesn’t appear Miss Deboyer’s too worried. Looks like she’s gone to sleep.” Detective Fitch chuckled.
A short time later, Callie opened her eyes and raised her head. “I wasn’t sleeping, Detective; I was praying.”
The detective narrowed his eyes. “If I was in your situation, I’d be praying, too.”
“I was praying for Daisy Bridgeport, not for myself. And I have no reason to fear anything you might discover about me, Mr. Fitch.” She gave Wesley a sidelong glance. “I am quite trustworthy.”
Wesley’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent and stared straight ahead. He obviously wanted to say something, but the detective was watching him—probably eager to offer another reprimand.
A short time later, Lula, Detective Jensen, and Thomas appeared in the office. Lula’s eyes shone with fear as she brought Thomas into the room. “He said I was to bring Thomas over here. I hope I did right, Miss Callie.”
“Of course you did. There’s nothing to worry about. Is Jane with Lottie?”
“Yes, miss. The luggage is ready. We can close the house and see you on your way as soon as all this is over.” The maid glanced at the detectives and then turned back toward Callie. “Are you all right?”
Callie forced a smile that she hoped would encourage Lula. “I’m fine, Lula. If you want to wait outside, I don’t think it will take long for the detective to speak with Thomas.”
Lula backed out of the room, and the detective gestured to Thomas. “Hello, Thomas. I’m Detective Fitch and I’d like to talk to you. Would that be all right?”
Thomas glanced at Callie before slowly nodding his head. “I guess so.”
“Mr. Townsend tells me that he’s taught you all about the different plants and animals on the island. Is that right?”
Thomas quickly agreed, and before the detective could ply the boy with more questions, Thomas offered a plethora of information that he’d learned from Wes. “He spent time with us during the afternoons ’cause most everybody wanted to take their lessons in the morning or early afternoon. He would come with us after lunch. You should see some of the shells we found down at the beach.”
Although the detective tried to stop the boy’s litany several times, Thomas continued telling him about the variety of snakes, deer, birds, and other plants and animals Wes had helped them identify.
Thomas inched closer to the detective. “I have a notebook that tells all about the different plants and animals. I even drew some pictures to help me remember. I could show it to you.”
Detective Fitch finally held up his hand. “I believe that’s enough, Thomas. If you’d like to go out and wait with the maid, we should be done here shortly.”
The moment Thomas exited the room, Wes leaned forward. “I assume that you have enough information to release Miss Deboyer, as well?”
The detective rubbed his jaw. “I suppose I do, but I’m still not sure why Mrs. Murphy would put those jewels in Miss Deboyer’s trunk.”
“I think it’s quite simple to understand.” Wes folded his arms across his chest. “Mrs. Murphy did it because she knew her actions would cast Miss Deboyer in a suspicious light should anything go amiss before they got off the island. She and her son left no stone unturned. They knew they might be caught and planned for that event by arranging to implicate Miss Deboyer.” Wes glared at the man. “And you bought into their ridiculous story hook, line, and sinker.”
The detective returned Wesley’s glare. “It is our duty to investigate every possibility, Mr. Townsend. Your high opinion of Miss Deboyer does not prove her innocence.”
“No, it does not. But you have received much more than my opinion. Miss Deboyer’s whereabouts have been confirmed by me, and my word has been tested by speaking to young Thomas. I believe you’ve received enough information to disprove the lies told to you by Mrs. Murphy. And I’m certain Mr. and Mrs. Bridgeport would vouch for the honesty of Miss Deboyer.”
“Since we’ve recovered the jewels and apprehended Mrs. Murphy and Mr. Penniman, and it doesn’t appear Miss Deboyer was involved, I suppose you can leave.” Detective Fitch pushed to his feet. “But if we should discover any further evidence against you, I will personally come to Indianapolis and apprehend you.”
Callie stood and waved toward her trunk. “If you would please remove the jewelry from my trunk, I’d like to take it with me. I hope the belongings I had packed in there are beneath the jewelry.” She looked at Detective Jensen. “Or did you remove them?”
“I dunno, but you can take a look once I get the jewelry out.” After removing the jewels, he beckoned her forward. “Looks like there’s a few things still in there.”
Callie peered into the chest. She wasn’t certain all of her belongings remained inside, but she wasn’t going to stay any longer than necessary. She closed the trunk and started to lift it from the desk, but Wes reached around her and grasped the handles.
“Let me take that for you.”
If she hadn’t been so eager to depart, she would have fought to carry the trunk herself. And she didn’t want to argue in front of the detectives. When they stepped into the foyer, Wesley insisted upon carrying the trunk and accompanying them home. No matter what Callie said, he refused to remain behind.
She
pushed ahead and walked with Lula and let Wesley follow behind with Thomas. When they arrived at the house, he placed the trunk in the wagon alongside their other belongings and grasped her arm.
“I’m not going to let you leave until I talk to you. I need to explain why I wasn’t forthright earlier. You heard me explain to the detective why I hadn’t revealed my family background . . .”
She wheeled around. “I don’t consider that an explanation for lying to me about who you are. I may have been concerned about your social standing, but I’m not someone who would have brushed you aside because of such a thing. You’ve given a poor excuse for living a lie—an excuse I won’t accept.” She stepped toward the porch.
“Wait! There’s more I need to tell you. Please!”
She glanced over her shoulder. “More lies?”
He grimaced. “You may call them lies, but I call it withholding a painful past.”
She stiffened her shoulders. “What else is there that I don’t know? Do you have a wife secreted away at the clubhouse, too?”
“No. I have no wife, and I’m not betrothed or interested in any other woman. But, Callie, this is much worse.”
She clenched her hands. “You’ve been convicted of a crime and have spent the past years in prison?”
“No criminal record, although I sometimes think serving a prison term would be easier than the self-incrimination I heap upon myself.” He shook his head. “And not unjustly. You see, I’m responsible for the deaths of many people—not intentionally, but they are dead all the same.”
She gasped and dropped to the front step. “What are you saying?”
“I’m not a botanist or a golf pro. Along with medical courses, I took classes in botany and played golf during my college years. During my vacations, I golfed at amateur tournaments.” He wrung his hands together. “The truth is, I’m a doctor.”
“A doctor?” Her mouth gaped open. “You are a doctor and you didn’t help Daisy?”
“I did help—I took her to the infirmary. I had no idea what kind of spider bit her, and there was nothing I could do other than rush her to get proper medical attention. Had there been anything I could have done to help, I wouldn’t have hesitated.” Pain glistened in his eyes. “Please don’t hold what happened to Daisy against me. She needed more help than the doctor at the infirmary or I could give her. And I did help with Lottie, remember?”
To Honor and Trust Page 23
