Deception at Sable Hill

by Shelley Gray

  Eloisa chuckled. “That’s a true compliment. Like you, I have found the White City to be breathtaking. But of course, I must admit to being partial to my home because it is actually habitable.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Most of the buildings of the fair are only plaster designs molded over cheap lumber. They had to be assembled quickly.” Looking winsome, Eloisa shrugged. “Years from now the elements will no doubt have gotten the best of those buildings. They’ll be nothing more than distant memories.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “I think so too. But someone told me that it is better to experience life than to merely live on its sidelines. I’d like to think that is the case with Chicago and our World’s Fair. At least all of us are getting the opportunity to experience such an event. By all accounts it’s a very successful fair as well, and it’s placed Chicago on the world’s stage. If the construction workers hadn’t been able to put that city together so quickly, why, nothing would have happened.”

  Sean smiled, liking her point. “We should have you talk to one and all about our fair, Miss Carstairs. You make some lovely points.”

  As he’d hoped, she blushed. “Forgive me. Sometimes I get a bit exuberant.” Pure relief entered her eyes when one of their servants entered the room. “Ah, Mrs. Anderson has coffee and tea for us. And just in the nick of time.”

  Sean leaned back as he watched Eloisa gracefully serve them warm beverages and small tea cakes. Through it all, Katie watched her closely, as closely as Sean used to watch his senior officers in the department when he’d first started at the police department. He assumed there was a bit of similarity there. It was becoming apparent that Katie would like nothing better than to have a bit of Eloisa’s polish.

  His heart warmed as he noticed how patient Eloisa was with his sister. As was Katie’s way, the more she got comfortable, the more questions she asked. Soon, Katie was asking Eloisa all about her dress, her hairpins, the parties she went to, and if she truly did know how to waltz.

  Eloisa answered each question without a touch of impatience. He also noticed that she was valiantly glossing over the things he knew she had grown weary of. Her answers to Katie implied that her life was just what his sister no doubt imagined it to be—a life of privilege punctuated by numerous events and glittering affairs.

  “You are so lucky,” Katie whispered.

  “I know I am. I’ve been blessed beyond measure,” Eloisa replied. “All I really have to do is spend my days in ladylike pursuits and hopefully try to make a difference in others’ lives.”

  “And marry well?” Katie asked.

  Eloisa blinked before nodding. “Yes, that is all I have to do.” Hating the new thread of vulnerability he saw in her expression, Sean got to his feet. “I hate to be rude, but we need to catch the train if we are going to get to Hope House at the time we planned.”

  “Of course you are right,” Eloisa agreed. They didn’t want to miss the train. She also had a feeling Sean was quickly losing patience with all the talk of fashion and hairstyles. “Let’s head to Hope House.”

  Their journey on the grip car to the train station was uneventful, as was their short trip to the stop for Hope House. Sean took care to seat himself between Katie and Eloisa, holding the box of donations Eloisa had wanted to bring along. Katie seemed determined for there to be no moments of silence, and Sean didn’t want her to tire out Eloisa with her continuous questions.

  Though he ached to visit with her, to ask how she was really feeling, he knew the train wasn’t the appropriate place to ask such questions. He was in no hurry to have such a private conversation within twenty feet of his sister, either. Therefore, he kept his tongue and concentrated on assisting her to her feet.

  But then, just as they were stepping out of the train, everything fell apart.

  Katie had just stepped off when she turned abruptly.

  “Katie, what is wrong?”

  “I forgot my satchel. I’ll be right back.”

  “Katie—”

  “I’ll go fetch it,” Katie blurted, and then darted off before he could order her to stay by his side. Everything inside of him ached to tell her no, but there was nothing he could do. Literally scores of people were bustling both in and out of the train car and stepping onto the platform.

  He moved to the side, still holding Eloisa’s box, and glared at Katie’s backside as she snaked her way through the throng to get back on the train. “Come now, Kate,” he called out, though that was a useless endeavor. The crowd’s noise had risen as people around them were scurrying to either exit or enter. He turned to look at Eloisa, but he couldn’t see her in the crowd.

  “It was just where I’d left it!” Katie called out only moments later, a happy smile lighting her features.

  “That’s both a surprise and a blessing,” he replied as he tucked the box under one arm and reached for her hand. “We’ve got to find Eloisa.”

  Then, just as the train’s whistle blew again, they heard a shrill cry on the platform behind them, followed by a mixture of exclamations.

  And right then, he knew who had just cried out. Grabbing Katie’s hand, he pulled her with him, frantically scanning the crowd for Eloisa.

  But nowhere did he see her golden hair or smart-looking, dovegray dress.

  He drew to a stop, his heart beating so hard he was surprised he was able to still function.

  “Sean?” Katie asked. “Sean, you’re hurting my hand.”

  He ignored her protests as he continued to skim through the crowd, looking on benches, against the walls, on the stairs, down the platform.

  And then as the train whistled again and the doors slid shut, the mass of people transformed from chaos to more focused groups of people.

  Some talking. Some pointing.

  With at least twelve surrounding a woman lying on the platform. “Eloisa,” he breathed as he rushed forward.

  “Miss Carstairs!” Katie cried as she at last jerked her hand away from his grip and ran to the group.

  “Do you know her, miss?” a gentleman wearing a gray top hat, a morning suit, and sporting a goatee and silver hair asked.

  “Yes. She is . . . she is my brother’s friend.”

  Sean pushed his way through, dropped the box, and knelt by Eloisa’s side, tears pricking his eyes as he saw the long, thin lines of blood marring her neck, shoulder, and upper chest.

  With what he was sure was too much force, he pressed his fingers to her throat, hoping and praying to find a pulse.

  When he felt her faint pulse beating steadily against his fingers, his eyes filled with tears.

  She wasn’t dead. She wasn’t dead, not yet.

  Not wanting her head to be resting on the filthy cement for a second more, he pulled out his handkerchief, pressed it to the worst of the bleeding, then eased her upper body onto his lap.

  “Hey now,” the gentleman sputtered. “You should leave her alone. Wait for the police to arrive.”

  “I am the police,” he bit out. Looking at the sea of faces peering down on him, he ordered, “One of you go call for a doctor. Now.”

  After two men who looked to be in their twenties ran off to do his bidding, he said, “Someone else go find me a uniformed officer.”

  “Lieutenant Ryan, is that you?”

  The voice was familiar. Looking up, he was shocked to see Quentin Gardner standing over him, his expression looking pained. Sean jerked a nod. “Mr. Gardner.”

  “I just got off the train when I heard the commotion. Is that Eloisa?”

  “Yes.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Find me a constable. They’re supposed to patrol these stations. Keep looking until you find one. Please.”

  Only when Mr. Gardner ran off did Sean start to breathe easier. Help would come. Help was on its way.

  He just had to keep her alive.

  Looking up at the many concerned expressions leaning his way, he said, “I need a clean cloth for her wou
nds. Someone hand me a handkerchief.” Immediately another three handkerchiefs were thrust toward him. As gently as he could, he pressed the fresh cloths to her wounds.

  She cried out.

  And though her cry was brought from pain, he was sure nothing had ever sounded so sweet. She was alive.

  “Is this the Slasher, then?” another man asked. Obviously not caring that Eloisa was nearly unconscious and bleeding.

  “Sean? Sean, what should I do?” Katie clenched her hands over and over. “I need to help. Please let me.”

  He wanted his sister close to him. But he also knew he was going to need Owen Howard and a physician. And he wasn’t sure if he could trust the men who had run off for help to return. Even if they did, twice the help would be far better than not enough—especially with the crowd increasing as it was.

  “Katie, we’re four blocks west and two blocks north of my precinct.” He held her eyes with his own. “When you get to the stairs, look around you. Get your bearings.”

  “Yes?”

  “Then go right away to my station and ask for Howard. He should still be there. He wasn’t going to meet us at Hope House for another few hours.”

  “If he’s not there?”

  “If he’s not there, you tell Fuller what happened. And don’t you leave that station without either Sergeant Fuller or Detective Howard by your side.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Can you do this? Are you sure?”

  “Of course I can,” she said through trembling lips. “Will she be okay?”

  He couldn’t bear to tell her he didn’t know. “Go now,” he answered instead.

  When he saw her disappear into the crowd, he pressed his fingers to Eloisa’s pulse again, not caring that his fingers were getting stained with blood. Not caring that he was showing his true feelings for all the world to see.

  Not caring that he wasn’t looking for witnesses and attempting to find whoever hurt her.

  All that mattered was that her heart was still beating.

  He leaned in closer, wrapping his arms more tightly around her chest so he could whisper into her ear. “Don’t you leave me, Eloisa,” he ordered. “I don’t care what you have to do, do it. You are going to stay alive for me. For me,” he whispered fiercely into her ear.

  She moaned.

  “Sir!” the silver-haired gentleman cried. “Have a care. You are hurting her.”

  Immediately he pulled back, just as a pair of uniformed officers trotted to his side.

  “All right, everyone. Make room now,” the taller of the two said. “If you have nothing to offer here, you’d best get on your way.”

  Then one of them knelt down next to Sean. “This your lady, sir?”

  “This is Miss Eloisa Carstairs and I am Lieutenant Detective Sean Ryan of the 16th district.”

  The officer’s blue eyes widened. “You’re the detective on the Slasher case.”

  Sean glared at him. “Comb the area for witnesses. I’ve already called for a physician and my partner.”

  “Right you are, sir,” the officer said amiably as Sergeant Fuller approached.

  “Fuller? Someone found you already?”

  “I was on break when I saw a pair of young gents running like their feet were on fire. I ran over here as soon as I got the gist of what happened.”

  Sean closed his eyes in relief. Sergeant Fuller could gain order out of a field of mice. “I sent Katie for Owen. Someone else went for a physician.”

  “Right, sir. I’ll take care of things for now.” Turning around, Fuller let out a shrill whistle that stopped everyone in the vicinity in their tracks. “Listen up, now. I need some answers and I need them now. Which of you saw what happened?”

  Silence met the question.

  Sean glared at the men and women surrounding him, now looking at each person more completely. Wondering if any of them had knifed Eloisa and then had decided to stay in the area, just to watch her suffer—and watch Sean squirm, desperately looking for leads.

  However, now that most of the excitement was over, easily twothirds of the people who had surrounded them were long gone. Though he wasn’t surprised, disappointment struck him deep. Yet again another well-to-do young lady had been struck. And yet again he was nearby but had no idea who had wielded the knife.

  He was failing everyone. He had failed her.

  “I’m so sorry, Eloisa,” he murmured. “So sorry.”

  She opened her eyes for a split second, obviously trying to get her bearings. “Sean?”

  “I’m here,” he said as she closed her eyes again. “I’m here and I will never leave you,” he vowed. From now on, he was going to do everything he possibly could to keep her safe.

  Everything and anything, even if it meant ruining her reputation by being seen with the likes of him.

  Even that.

  CHAPTER 24

  Miss Ryan!”

  Katie jumped to her feet and rushed to Detective Howard’s side. The minute she was close enough, she clasped both of his biceps. “Thank goodness you are still here.”

  He looked startled by her touch, but the expression in his eyes surprised her. It was a true combination of worry and determination. “What are you doing here? And are you alone?”

  “Yes, but—”

  His lips pursed. “I thought your brother was going to talk to you about the dangers of touring this city by yourself.”

  “He did, but—”

  “I don’t know where he is, but I have to warn you that I will be telling him about your visit—”

  “For all the saints above,” Constable Barnaby called out impatiently. “Stop talking and listen, Detective Howard!”

  Owen turned to the constable. “What?”

  “Lieutenant Ryan sent for you!”

  At long last he looked at Katie, this time really seeing her. She felt his gaze skitter across her face, suddenly noticing her rumpled dress, her tear-streaked face. “What happened?”

  “Miss Carstairs was attacked at the train station! My brother wants to see you right now! Please, Owen.”

  He closed his eyes. “Eloisa,” he murmured. When he opened his eyes again, a new, steely determination had settled in. “Let me grab my overcoat and we’ll go.”

  “Just sent Peabody for it,” Barnaby said as he tossed the expensive overcoat to Owen. “Do you want me to get backup?”

  “Yes. I don’t know what we’ll find. Which train station, Katie?”

  “Union.”

  Barnaby nodded. “I’ll get the word out.”

  Owen barely nodded before clutching Katie’s elbow in a firm grip and guiding her out the door. “Tell me everything,” he said as they stepped onto the crowded street.

  “We were on our way to Hope House,” she said as she struggled to keep up his pace while at the same time avoiding running into the people Detective Howard was dodging.

  When they stopped at an intersection, barely avoiding getting run over by a milk cart, he glanced her way. “Already? We weren’t going to meet for several hours.”

  She rushed on while they were still stopped. “We wanted to spend some time at Hope House before you came. Sean and I went to Sable Hill, picked up Miss Carstairs, and took the grip car to the station uptown, then got on the train. When we got to Union Station and got off, I realized I’d left my purse on the train.”

  “And?”

  She hated this part, because it showed how everything that had happened was all her fault. “And then I pulled away and got back on the train and Sean stayed with me,” she said as the street cleared and Owen pulled her forward, continuing at a breakneck pace.

  “Next?” he barked, not looking at her, looking only straight ahead with what could only be described as a murderous expression on his face.

  “Well, Miss Carstairs had gotten out of the train ahead of us on the platform and it was crowded . . . we heard a scream. We looked all over the platform and then saw Miss Carstairs lying there, bleeding.”

  His hand t
ightened on her arm, likely bruising. Katie didn’t protest his iron clasp, though. She deserved every bit of his anger, and every bit of his frustration with her. She was the one at fault.

  “Is she alive?” he asked after they walked another twenty feet.

  “I-I think so. Sean kept reaching for her pulse. But he had me run for you right away. I hope she’s still alive.”

  Glancing her way, he bit out, “She better be.”

  Katie flinched at the dark look on his face. He was such a handsome man, so elegant with his lean body, blond hair, and dark eyes. She’d fallen asleep night after night thinking about him, imagining him gazing at her in a tender way.

  Imagining him thinking she was worth his time.

  Then, when he’d asked Sean about tea, she’d let her pride get the best of her, and she’d begun to think she was worth his time. That she could be his equal.

  In her more fanciful moments, she’d even imagined asking Eloisa to help her become more ladylike. She’d wanted to do everything she could to fit into his world.

  But now, seeing that dangerous look in his eyes, she knew without a doubt that she’d lost her opportunity. Sean had told her Detective Howard and Miss Carstairs were good friends. He’d escorted her to several society events. They were comfortable with each other.

  They understood each other.

  And because she’d been so busy thinking about one day being as elegant as Miss Carstairs, she’d gone and left her purse on the train. That mistake could have very well cost Eloisa her life.

  They were only two blocks away from the station now. Two blocks from discovering if her worst fears were realized. Two blocks away from being separated. She knew enough from being around Sean that Owen would be all business, barking orders, asking questions, taking care of things. There would be no time for her to tell him what had to be said.

  Which meant, unfortunately, that she had to say the words right then and there.

  “I’m very sorry, Detective Howard. I know this is my fault, and though it probably means nothing to you, I am very, very sorry.”

  He abruptly stopped at another intersection. Then turned his head and stared. “What?”