“No! It’s not safe.”
“You are always safe with me.”
She felt terrified that something could happen to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and slid her legs around him. It seemed like her desire for Jack could overcome her fear, and she felt powerless to leave his tent.
He gently lowered her so that she could lay on the soft white cotton sheet and he pulled the blanket over himself as he warmed her with his body. He kissed her forehead and nose and then her lips again, lightly licking his tongue across her lips.
The ache for him grew stronger. Their limbs intertwined, and she felt him loosening his pajamas, slipping them off his sinewy legs. His mouth found her again, and she knew she could never resist the magnetic force that drew her to him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Grace heard the first streetcar clang into Tent City. Tatania lay on top of Jack’s head on the pillow, unwilling to concede her territorial claim to him. She put a paw on Grace’s shoulder as if to say, I found him before you.
She heard the low rumble of a delivery truck, probably delivering ice blocks or clean laundry. Or maybe it was an early morning milk man. Or any number of people she wouldn’t want to see when she left Jack’s tent in her nightgown.
And suddenly, the terrors of the night didn’t seem real. Only the ache returned and in response, he clutched her tightly. The only solution would be to stay in his bed in his tent with him forever. That way, no one else would ever find out.
This brilliant solution lasted another minute until she heard something else.
“Get up Jack. Lets go for a swim.” A voice called from outside the tent.
“Come on old guy. See if you can still keep up with your little brother.”
Jack threw a blanket over Grace.
“I’ll meet you in the water,” he yelled.
“You’re going to have to borrow my coat,” he said.
Grace gratefully accepted and crept outside. No one else was up yet. She saw the retreating figure of Jack’s brother moving across the beach.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Grace hurriedly stepped away from Jack’s cottage. She changed her clothes quickly at the hotel and went to the library. Miss Gabrielle Morton, the librarian, had always been kind to Grace. She looked startled when Grace asked if the library had any books on poison.
“Are you thinking of anyone?”
“I don’t know any authors. I’m just thinking about the General. He munches on anything and everything when we go riding,” Grace said.
“General? “ Gabrielle wrinkled her forehead.
“My horse.” Grace replied
“Great name. I thought you meant your boyfriend.”
“No. Jack may think he’s a General. But he’s not.”
Aunt Alice had mysteriously taken an interest in horiculture and making tea at Uncle Charles’ office. And Uncle Charles’ partner, Cornelius, said that his own digestive disruptions stopped after Uncle Charles died. Coincidence that when Aunt Alice brought food or drink it would coincide with bouts of diarrhea and vomiting for both?
Grace flipped through the Coronado Evening Mercury Newspaper. Mr. and Mrs. Spreckels would be hosting a benefit for the Alpine Sanatorium at their home. Vaudeville midgets would perform at Coronado Tent City on Sunday.
Aimee Semple Macpherson was still missing. Grace said a silent prayer for a woman she’d never met. She and Uncle Charles used to listen to her on the radio. Uncle Charles said she’d make a great trial lawyer. Grace remembered Aimee Semple Macpherson’s mellifluous voice, urging sinners to repent and find God.
Now, the papers said that the woman minister, beloved by so many, had gone swimming in the ocean and simply disappeared. Grace felt her life’s expectations eroding like the tide. All the mysteries of the universe could be solved by the Palmist in Tent 2200 at Coronado Tent City according to her ad, so why couldn’t all the policemen and detectives of Southern California find Aimee Semple Macpherson, Grace mused.
Tatania walked into the library like she owned it. She leapt on a white chair in the white room, the better to hide her own white fur with its furnishings. She put a back paw up and carefully groomed it, as if she was giving herself a pedicure. Grace marveled at feline dexterity. She couldn’t sit down and put her foot up to her mouth even if she wanted to.
Tatania completed her grooming. Her luxurious white fur shone. Her green eyes looked luminous. Grace felt ill at thought of a breeder trying to drown her for being deaf. And her heart swelled at the thought of Jack saving a kitten. Jack helped assuage the raw grief she felt at Uncle Charles’ death. At least Uncle Charles hadn’t killed himself. Horrible that he was murdered. But at least he hadn’t wanted to leave her.
Grace wanted to see the General at the stables, assure him that she wouldn’t desert him. As long as she lived, her horse would not want for anything. She ran to the stables.
A familiar figure fed General a carrot. The General nudged Jack’s shoulder affectionately.
“How long have you two been meeting like this?” Grace asked, surprised and happy to see both.
“I was just in the neighborhood.” He shrugged.
“How does Tatania sense our presence? She can’t hear.” The cat stood inside the stable door.
“Scents probably. Or distinguishing vibrations. Our steps make a unique vibration that she recognizes. Everyone’s step is different. So is everyone’s scent.”
“I showered today.”
He laughed. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. What ever made a woman as beautiful as you so apologetically self conscious, I’ll never know.”
“Tatania, you are a perfect cat. I think God wanted to create a perfect cat, so he created you,” Grace said.
Tatania seemed to nod in agreement. Sage green eyes stared unblinkingly from the white fur she kept impeccably groomed. She wound through Grace’s legs again, marking Grace as Tatania’s other person. Grace felt flattered. A dog, kinder than most people deserve, wags his tail readily, but when a reticent cat offers her affection, one feels chosen.
“I think she’s telling you not to run away,” Jack said.
Grace reached down and stroked the sweet kitty.
The General inclined his head towards Grace.
“Taking care of you is the most important thing I do,” she said, petting her horse.
“And I won’t let anything happen to you. No one will sell you. No one will put you to work on a plunge bath.” Grace remembered the Pony Plunge with disgust.
“Who suggested selling him?” Jack asked.
“My former Aunt Alice. Who is leaving for Paris. And when I refused to go, she told me I’d never see a penny of the life insurance money. And then she said my uncle didn’t love me.” There was a time when Grace would have cried, but now she felt emboldened, as if running her hand along General’s flank, with Jack beside her strengthened her.
“She also said I’d never see her again.”
“Well, I think that would be worth the money.”
“That’s just what I was thinking.” Grace’s hand met Jack’s as they both patted the General.
“Besides, now there’s no more family to lose. That’s a relief. And I’ll be fine on my own.”
“You don’t have to be on your own.” Jack whispered quietly.
“I want to be on my own. I don’t want to be dependent on anyone. For anything. I want to make my own money.”
“Is it all about money? Or bloodlines?” Jack snarled.
“Jack, it’s just that we’re born alone and we die alone and I don’t see any point in pretending we’re anything other than alone during the time between.”
“It’s not pretending when you care for someone. I watched soldiers die in the Great War. My mates. Do you think you’d have been a comfort to them? They wanted nothing more than to feel they hadn’t been alone at the end. That they hadn’t been alone through life. The altruism they embodied, sacrificing for freedom, you insult it.”
&nbs
p; “How do I insult it?”
“By your cavalier attitude. Do you think they were fighting only for themselves? Or for the loved ones they wanted to return to? If everyone went through life feeling he was in it alone, where would we be?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The rain began slowly, lulling Grace to sleep by its light tapping on the roof. Then, it increased, waking her and pelting against the windows like an intruder. She looked out the window, and the full moon illuminated water rushing from the beach to Orange Street. Having had enough drama for one day, she kept one hand on her flashlight, and simply went to bed again fully dressed. Sharp knocking woke her at daybreak. The valet, George, bowed slightly and asked if she needed anything.
“There’s a boat for you,” he said.
“Excuse me. I didn’t order a boat.”
He opened the window. It looked like a lake had surrounded the hotel during the night. Jack waved up at her from a row boat.
“I know I’m no gondolier. And we’re not in Venice. But I’d really like to have breakfast with you,” he said.
Grace walked out as Jack effortlessly rowed the boat up to the entrance. He offered her a hand and she lightly stepped onto the boat. She admired the strength of his forearms as he sat across from her.
A river ran through Orange Street. People fished in front of Holland’s store. No one looked especially perturbed. That was the thing about Coronado. The worst day in Coronado was better than the best day somewhere else. Grace saw two fishing rods in Jack’s boat.
“Are we catching breakfast?” She asked.
“If you’d like.”
“Tell me more about the Pinkerton Detective Agency.”
“We’ve been around since 1850. We protected Abraham Lincoln. Through at least one assassination attempt. And now we protect Tent City. Why are you so interested?”
Grace swallowed. She’d never admitted she needed anything. From anyone. She couldn’t bear to tell him she needed money. But there was the matter of taking care of the General. She couldn’t sell him to anyone.
“I’d like to work for you.”
“We don’t hire Dolls.”
“You’re not too bad to look at yourself, Jack. You know the parable. Give someone a fish and you feed someone for a day. Teach someone to fish and you feed someone for a lifetime.”
“Fine. You can catch the fish.”
“I need a job.”
“Even if you were hired as a trainee, it could be less money than you received for the beauty contest. How would it feel to be paid more for your beauty than your brains?”
“Well, it seems to be the only thing my gender is beating men at now.” She’d protect General at the cost of her own dignity. She was broke. Yet she didn’t feel poor. She just felt like she didn’t have any money.
“Your Uncle Charles would say you could have a job with me over his dead body.”
“It appears to have happened that way.”
“Grace, I’ll help you.” Jack rowed past Rexall Drugs and threw out his rod.
“And you can come with me when I meet Mildred.”
“Are we really going to catch anything here?” Grace asked.
“Probably not. But I can’t fly to La Jolla until the weather clears.”
“I need to find out what happened, Jack. “
He gently touched a strand of hair falling across her face. “I want to protect you,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“You’re beautiful,” Jack said.
Tatania looked up, like you must be talking to me.
At North Island, the biplanes seemed to be in formation even on the ground. Planes awaiting their handsome aviators like brides. Some were colorfully decorated with beautiful women. Jack’s plane had a new banner: “Better than a Pierce Arrow.”
Grace turned to the clicking sound. Tatania was assessing a humming bird. She watched the bird drink from a colorful flower and then conceded to let it live.
“Very generous of you, Tatania.”
“She’s well fed,” Jack said. “Every fisherman she meets spoils her with the catch of the day.”
“She knew from the beginning that being cute and little would give her the upper paw in life.” Grace suggested.
“And you seem to be catching on to that yourself. You can’t tell anyone at Pinkerton you’re assisting me.”
“I’m not a charitable endeavor, Jack.”
“I know. It’s not charity. You’re smart.”
She put on the aviator gear. It felt heavy. Tatania, content to be near Jack, curled up trustingly on his lap.
Lifting into the air felt as liberating as slipping off a corset for the first time. She watched the hotel slip farther away, and the shoreline, until it was just Jack, her and Tatania, over the ocean together.
He dropped one wing, and her stomach fluttered, but he righted himself, and she could imagine him smiling, with Tatania snuggled on his lap. They stayed close to the shoreline, admiring the vast expanse of land, the glittering ocean, and the glory of Southern California
“What if the whole time you were keeping secrets, secrets were keeping you?” Grace asked when they landed.
“What?”
“I mean, Uncle Charles kept so many secrets. First Julia, then Charlotte. At first, I thought he might have killed himself. Maybe to get away from Aunt Alice.” Grace leaned against Jack’s shoulder. It felt natural.
“He would never have done that to you.” Jack whispered.
While Tatania napped on the plane, they walked to downtown La Jolla, and easily found La Valencia’s Spanish style cottages.
“Are you on your honeymoon?” The elevator porter asked.
“No, just our afternoon.” Jack quipped.
Grace hit him.
“Be careful. I’m sensitive.”
“You felt pretty tough.” Actually, his arm felt hard, solid and masculine. He had a quiet strength that he didn’t need to flaunt.
They knocked on Mildred’s apartment door. She opened it and haughtily peered out. Her eyes looked paranoid. But her lips smiled.
“I’m Detective Jack Brewster. I’m investigating the death of Charles Hall. May we come in?”
Mildred didn’t react to news of Charles’ death. She looked mean and scared.
“You look familiar,” she said to Grace.
“I’m Charles Hall’s niece. And we may have met at a Ladies Temperance luncheon with my former Aunt Alice.” Grace had quickly developed a relish for saying former Aunt Alice.
On the nightstand next to her bed, Grace spotted a picture of a beagle. Her heart understood Mildred. She knew what it was like to love a pet. She’d do anything to take care of General. If it wasn’t for him, she might have given up and died with her Uncle.
Jack noticed her staring and walked to the nightstand. He glanced at pictures of Beagles in heart shaped frames. A copy of Modern Priscilla announced the secret to flawless skin.
Mildred began shaking like a scared Chihuahua. Grace wanted to get away from this odd woman.
“Have a Mint Julep,” Jack said, pulling out his flask.
Mildred accepted it and gulped with her head tossed back. “Will someone try to take my dogs away?”
“No,” Grace and Jack said in unison. Grace and Jack spoke their own language. Mildred couldn’t have killed anyone.
“No one will take your dogs.” Jack reassured her again.
Mildred opened her bathroom door and five beagles bounded out. Tails wagging, they jumped up on the bed and licked their chops. Grace realized that Mildred served the beagles breakfast in bed.
“You can keep the Mint Julep,” Jack said.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“I’ve never seen you give your flask away before.”
“Well, she needed it. And I’m one speakeasy away from another.”
“Do you know every speakeasy in Southern California?” Grace asked.
“No. Just San Diego.”
“I presume you k
now the Password,” Grace said.
“Sure. Stick with me and you’ll really go places.” Jack rapped at the door of the speakeasy.
“Bottoms up,” he said through the four inch screen visible by a slot that opened at eye level.
The door opened. They made their way through couples strewn about languidly on love seats. Men determinedly drank at the main bar. The soft light flattered all the patrons. Grace felt uneasy again.
“What will you have?”
“Do they serve hot cocoa here?”
“Please don’t embarrass me.”
“Please be my taster then.”
Jack seemed to consider a response. And then he just motioned to the bartender to come over.
“Brewster, she’s too good looking for you,” the bartender said.
“I know. I’ll have French Champagne instead of the usual.”
The bartender pulled a bottle and two glasses out from a low shelf and handed both to Jack.
Jack moved slowly through the crowd that parted immediately for him. With his erect posture, he looked like a leader, accustomed to men and women doing his bidding. It was a slow dance and he drew her to him.
He maneuvered her to a dark corner of the floor, away from the other couples. He pulled her near. They sipped champagne. As if to answer her unspoken desire, he pulled her to him. Then, he dipped her, and she felt the strength of masculine hands, emanating power.
“Tell me your secrets. Don’t run from me. Come closer.” He whispered.
She wavered for a moment, pride falling from her shoulders.
“Okay, all those times you felt annoyed your parents were telling you what to do? All I knew was that I suffered from the lack of them. I wished I had someone to guide me.”
“That’s never a problem in the army.” He joked.
She saluted him. His eyes flickered at something behind her.
“That’s the guy who tried to snatch your purse in Chicago. I’m going to check it out,” Jack said, “Can you hold the fort?”
“My ancestors fought the American Revolution. Of course I can hold the fort.”
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