“But if you ran,” Rachel said, suddenly having a thought, “perhaps he didn’t die. Maybe you just stunned him and—”
“No,” Simone interrupted. “I know he’s dead. Mr. O’Donnell just showed me the Wanted posters for myself and my father. Although why they’ve included him, I cannot say. Mr. O’Donnell found the posters in Chicago, which means if they traced me that far, it’ll only be a matter of time until they find me here.”
“Then we have to hide you,” Rachel said, jumping to her feet. “We can’t just give you over. Perhaps we could alter your appearance.”
Simone smiled sadly. “Rachel, it won’t work. Your own mother will be one of those to recognize me. No, I can’t ask you to lie for me. I’ve already told enough lies. Now I find that I’ve put you and Jeffery in jeopardy. You must either lie for me or turn me over, and neither case is fair or simple for you.”
“I won’t let them have you,” Rachel stated firmly. “They don’t know the truth like I do. And from the way you speak, perhaps they wouldn’t even care to know the truth.”
“It’s not your problem, and I won’t let you take it on for yourself. I’ll just resign my position and leave. That way no one has to be the wiser. I’ll simply get on a train and disappear.”
“That’s it!” Rachel declared. “We’ll send you away. We’ll find a place on the Santa Fe line where you can work and no one will know who you are.”
“I didn’t mean that,” Simone protested.
Rachel reached out to pull Simone to her feet. “We have to talk to Jeffery. Does he know this whole story?”
“Yes, I told him.”
“Good. He’s a fair-minded man and he cares for you. Jeffery will 210 know what to do.”
Standing in the shadows of the freight platform, Jeffery and Rachel shielded Simone’s body from the view of other passersby. By borrowing clothing from one of the kitchen staff, Jeffery and Rachel had transformed Simone into a shabby-looking boy.
“This will never work,” Simone whispered, her possessions clutched tightly in a pillowcase. “Nobody will believe I’m a boy.”
“Don’t worry,” Jeffery answered softly. “You’ve got a great many friends in the rail yard. We’ll put you on a freight train rather than a passenger train and no one will be the wiser.”
“You’ll go to Florence, and from there you can sneak into the little church that’s close by. I’ve been there before and they never lock it,” Rachel admitted. “It’s a pleasant little town and folks will treat you right. Just take the letters Jeffery and I have written, and meanwhile Jeffery will wire down to let them know of your arrival. Change your clothes and sleep the night in the church, and when morning comes, along with the southbound passenger train, you can just slip naturallike into the crowd and present yourself to the house manager.”
“It seems too much to ask,” Simone replied. “You’ll both be stuck in the middle of this with me should anyone get wise to our actions. After all, what will you tell the other girls?”
“I’ll simply say that you decided to leave us,” Rachel said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t have to lie to them in order to protect you. In fact, I’m sure it will all work out with very little said. By disguising your appearance to the public, no one will remember seeing you get on a train. No one will be able to share information they don’t have.”
“But if the law comes looking because they’ve heard tell I was hired by the Harvey Company, they’re going to check out places all along the line,” Simone protested once again.
“You leave that to me,” Jeffery replied. The train’s whistle sounded in the distance. “I’ll join you as soon as I can with more details to this plan, but for now, just trust me.”
Simone could barely make out his features in the shadows, not to mention that they’d plunked a big straw hat down over her head in order to hide all her hair. The wide brim made it difficult to see, but lifting her face just a bit, she could see the beacon light of the everslowing steam engine.
She waited for what seemed an eternity while Jeffery went to speak to someone. Rachel tried to keep up small talk with Simone, but it was clear by the way she kept craning her neck to see behind Simone that conversation was far from her mind. Finally Jeffery returned, motioning them to follow, and Simone found herself carefully stashed on the caboose.
“I should be down to Florence in a couple of days. Until I get there, however,” Jeffery told her, “just keep to yourself and do your job. You’ll be fine.”
“You shouldn’t be doing this,” Simone said, seeing the fear in his eyes.
Jeffery reached out and touched her dirt-smudged cheek. “I can’t imagine doing anything else. All I ask, all I desire, is that you trust me.”
The words stung her like a slap across the face. “Trust me,” he said. If only he knew how high a price he demanded.
“I’ll try,” Simone replied weakly. She knew he wanted so much more, but it was impossible to sort through the jumble of thoughts and emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her. “I’ll try.”
He smiled at her, as if knowing what the words had cost her. “Then all will be well,” he assured.
“They’re about to leave,” Rachel called up from the platform.
Simone caught one last glance from Jeffery. He seemed so regretful, so torn between making her stay and letting her go. “Two days,” he whispered.
Simone nodded and then he was gone. She felt the sorrow of his departure wrap around her like an eagle’s talons. It ripped at her, tearing chinks in her stony armor. There was no sense in fighting it anymore. She had strong feelings for this man.
She saw the caboose man wave his lantern to signal they were ready for departure. He jumped up on the platform of the caboose and looked down at her. “I don’t often get passengers. Do you know how to play cards?” he questioned with a grin.
“No,” Simone replied, trying hard to keep her voice low.
“Well, it’s four hours to Florence. Guess that’s time enough to learn.”
TWENTY-FIVE
ZACK’S ANTICIPATION OF catching up with Simone Dumas had kept him awake most of the night. He couldn’t bring himself to believe that she was the one responsible for the death of Garvey Davis, but nevertheless, she was the one who had stolen his horse and tack, and she was on the run.
Finding no comfort in the hard leatherback seat, Zack tried to make out the horizon as a new day was born. He found the scenery held little interest for him, however. He’d nearly exhausted his funds and would have to wire his bank in Laramie in order to get more money. He knew his father wouldn’t approve or understand, but it no longer mattered. The Davis murder case had become an obsession with him. Zack felt confident that if he could just bring in Davis’s killer, his father would finally respect him and hold him in the same regard he held for Zack’s siblings.
When the call for Topeka finally sounded, Zack was more than ready to leave the train. He’d had his fill of them and hoped that from this point on he might rent a horse. The riding was easier aback a finetempered gelding, he’d decided. And while the train might be faster, it was also dirty, crowded, and too confining for his tastes.
He stepped off the train and onto the platform and read the overhead sign that said Topeka. Taking a deep breath, he straightened his stiff shoulders and headed with the other passengers into the Harvey House restaurant. It was clear to him that no one was going to have time to talk to him until after the meal was served, so he bided his time and enjoyed a hearty meal.
Keeping a careful watch on the waitresses in the room, Zack tried to study each to determine whether any of them matched Simone Dumas’s description. He found no one. There was a dark-headed woman who seemed to be in charge of a great deal, but she was too plain in the face to be the more exotic-looking Simone. He drew out his sketch pad just as the pie was served and the coffee cups were refilled.
“Why, looky here, Martha,” an elderly man in simple clothes announced. “They’ve done
cut this pie in quarter shares.”
“To be sure,” the old woman replied. “I’ll bet they made a mistake.” “No mistake,” another gentleman at the table told them. “Mr. Harvey cuts his pies this way all along the line. He once caught a fellow trying to cut a pie in sixths and fired him then and there.”
“Do say?” the old man replied, appearing to find such news hard to believe.
“Would you like more coffee?” a black-and-white-clad Harvey Girl asked Zack.
“No, thanks. Say, you don’t know where I might find Simone Dumas or Rachel Taylor, do you?” Zack felt free to ask since the rush was dying down.
The girl smiled sweetly at him. “I don’t know any Simone, but then I just started today. Miss Taylor is that woman over there,” she pointed, and Zack followed the direction to a buxom young redheaded woman. “She’s in charge. Would you like me to tell her you need to speak with her?”
“Yes. I can wait until everyone clears out.”
The girl nodded and took her leave, but before Zack could see whether she’d delivered the message, the man at his right asked him about his background.
“What parts are you from, young man?”
Zack glanced at the man before answering. He was wearing a dark suit coat borrowed from the same rack Zack had taken his. Funny rules this Mr. Harvey had. Hardly seemed sensible to lend clothes out to folks in order to eat. Zack had been more than a little fearful of spilling something on the coat before the meal was finished. Of course, there were linen napkins the size of pillowcases, and that covered a good portion of the coat when a fellow tucked the thing in at the top of his shirt as Zack had.
The announcements were made that the train was departing, and while everyone else got to their feet and departed the station restaurant, Zack remained fixed.
“You’ll miss your train, sir,” one of the Harvey Girls told him.
“Nope,” Zack replied. “I’m staying in Topeka.”
“Oh, well, I hope your stay is pleasant,” the girl responded. “If you haven’t yet found a place to sleep, I recommend The Throop. It’s just up from the station several blocks on Fourth and Kansas Avenue.”
“Then you know this area well?” Zack questioned, hoping this trim little blonde would be able to give him more information than the other waitress had.
“Miss Mitchell,” a deep, masculine voice called from somewhere behind the young woman.
“I have to go,” she told Zack with a smile and took off before anything else could be said.
In the young woman’s place, however, the owner of the voice appeared. “I understand you wanted to speak with Miss Taylor?”
Zack studied the man for a moment and nodded. “That’s right.”
“Well, I’m afraid Miss Taylor will be preoccupied for some time to come. She is housemother to all of these young women and this is a mostly new staff. There are many questions to be answered and problems to be solved. Perhaps I could be of help?”
Zack shrugged. “You might be able to, but it won’t change the fact that I’ll need to speak to Miss Taylor when she’s free.” He pulled the linen napkin from his shirt and gave it a toss on the table as he got to his feet. “You’ll have to excuse my manners. I’m half asleep after that fitful ride down from Chicago. I’m Zack Matthews, Deputy Sheriff out of Laramie, Wyoming.”
“You are a far ways from home,” the man commented. “I’m Jeffery O’Donnell. I work for Mr. Fred Harvey, the owner of this establishment.” The men shook hands and Jeffery pointed to a hallway. “I have an office we can speak in. The girls will need us to clear out of here in order for the preparations to begin for the next meal.”
Zack nodded and followed Jeffery across the room. “You certainly have it all well organized. I’ve never seen so many people put together and dealt with in such short order.”
“Yes, Mr. Harvey has a system for just about everything. If the system is followed to the letter, then things run smoothly. If not,” Jeffery paused beside the office door, “then things fall apart rather quickly.”
“I can imagine.”
The office was nothing much, but Zack found it offered the privacy that he preferred. He positioned himself in a large leather chair and waited for O’Donnell to seat himself at the desk. O’Donnell, however, seemed in no hurry to do this. He casually walked to the window and spent a few moments opening the drapes a little wider. Then he checked through a stack of papers on the corner of his desk before finally taking his seat.
“Now, what is it that we can do for you, Deputy Matthews?”
“I’m looking for a woman.”
Jeffery laughed. “My mother says that I should, as well, but I haven’t had the heart to pick just one from a bevy of so many choices.”
Zack cleared his throat nervously and started again. “I’m looking for a woman who’s wanted for questioning in a murder.”
“A murder?”
“That’s right.”
“And whose murder would this be?” Jeffery questioned.
“A man named Garvey Davis. He lived up the mountain a ways from Laramie. This woman may have information about the killer, since it’s presumed she was the last one to see Mr. Davis alive.”
“I see. Well, I can assure you that Miss Taylor hasn’t left these premises in months. Oh, I’ve tried to get her to take a vacation—” “
No, it isn’t that,” Zack interrupted, frustrated by O’Donnell’s casual tone. The man was impeccably attired in a three-piece suit and seemed to be in control of far more than Zack was willing to give him.
“But I thought you asked for Miss Taylor?”
“I did … but … well, not because I believe her to be the woman connected to the murder.”
“Connected to the murder? But I thought you said the woman might only have information regarding the murderer.”
Zack didn’t like the way the talk was going at all. O’Donnell was clearly leading the conversation and leaving Zack to feel like a stuttering child. Finally, in frustration, Zack pulled out a copy of the Chicago Wanted poster. “Have you ever seen this man or woman?”
Jeffery stared at the paper for a moment before reaching into his desk drawer. He carefully pulled out a matching copy of the poster and held it up. “I sure have. I saw this in Chicago and brought it back with me.”
“So you know them?”
“Nope. I can’t say as I know this Louis Dumas fellow.”
Zack let out a breath of exasperation. “But you know Simone Dumas.”
“Well, I know I hired a woman named Simone. But she gave her last name as Irving.”
“What did she look like?” Zack asked.
O’Donnell thought for a moment. “Well, she wore a black dress and a white apron and she had a white bow for her hair,” he paused, as if trying to think of some other feature.
“Mr. O’Donnell, they all dress that way. It’s the uniform,” Zack reminded him.
Jeffery chuckled. “So it is. But I suppose you can see the problem. Once you get them into the uniform, they look pretty much alike. That’s what Mr. Harvey had in mind. Uniformity. He says that—”
“Please, Mr. O’Donnell, I’m running out of time. I need to know where I can find either Simone Irving or Simone Dumas.”
“Well, to tell you the truth, I kind of got my own suspicions when I saw this poster,” Jeffery said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I mean, this drawing had some similarities, and the name … well, you just don’t hear it that often. Sounds French to me, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” Zack replied in complete exasperation.
Jeffery smiled and nodded. “That’s what I figured, too. I mean, not too many people in these parts name their kids by French names. There’s a lot of Marys and Margarets, and of course Bible names are quite popular. But—” “I’m sorry,” Zack interrupted, “but I need to know what you think about the woman you hired. Do you believe Simone Irving and Simone Dumas to be one and the same?”
“I think it’s very p
ossible.”
“Where is she now?” Zack asked, finally feeling that he was getting somewhere with the questioning.
Jeffery surprised him by shrugging. He leaned back casually in his chair and folded his hands together. “I really can’t say.”
“What do you mean?”
The man looked rather sheepish, and Zack got a sick feeling in his gut that he wasn’t going to like whatever it was O’Donnell was going to say.
“I showed her the poster and she ran. Fled the Harvey House altogether. I’ve not seen her since.”
“What!” Zack stood up in surprise. “You just up and confronted her without any kind of lawman here to take her into custody?” The indignity of it was too much for Matthews. “You let her get away?”
“I’m afraid I did,” O’Donnell said rather apologetically. “I am sorry, Mr. Matthews. I’ve never had dealings with criminal types before. I thought maybe it was a silly coincidence. I guess it wasn’t.”
“And you have no idea where she went?”
“Oh, I have all sorts of ideas. She came here from Chicago and it seems logical that she might want to go back there.”
“Why would you say that?” Zack questioned, finally feeling the calm return enough to retake his seat.
Again O’Donnell shrugged. “It’s just an idea—a guess, really. You asked me for ideas.”
“Yes, but do you have any reason to believe she would return to Chicago? Did she mention it?”
“She wasn’t saying much when she left here,” Jeffery told him.
“And when exactly did she leave?”
“I couldn’t possibly say.”
“You have no idea?”
“As I said earlier, I have all kinds of ideas. I’ve always fancied myself a bit of a sleuth, don’t you know. My mother always said—”
“‘Look, Mr. O’Donnell, I do appreciate the help you’ve already given me, but I have to have some hard facts to work with. I’m going to have to insist on talking to Miss Taylor. I met with the woman’s mother in Chicago, and she believes that Miss Taylor will have plenty of answers to help me.”
A Shelter of Hope Page 22
