He turned back to McKinney. “Something is not right.”
“About what?”
“About a great number of things.”
“He plays a convincing role.”
Colin nodded. “That he does. But that’s just it. He plays the role too well. We need to keep our eye on him, McKinney. Like I said, something is not right.”
Chapter Forty
So I take it you brought the ladies back with you?” asked McKinney as he led Colin toward a table near the fire, where they were seated.
Colin nodded and drummed his fingers on the table. “Yes, Miss Creston and Miss Lizzie are now at Heddeston Park.”
McKinney clicked his tongue. “Serves those Ellisons right. Never did like them, this is just one more reason why. Bet Miss Creston is none too happy living so close to them.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Colin replied, allowing his thoughts to rest on her for several moments. “She does not seem like one to hold a grudge. After all, she’s not as cantankerous as you.”
McKinney threw his head back in laughter. “Well, this is true. Besides, at least the story has a happy ending. Look at that new home of hers. I’d gladly endure a bit of betrayal if in the end I was to walk away with a dwelling like that.”
Colin sobered and glanced around the room at the dozens of faces. “You have quite the guest list tonight. Anything interesting happen while I was gone?”
McKinney sobered. “There was a man found battered and beat up along the Black Wood Forest yesterday. He’s fine now but wouldn’t say who touched him.”
Heaviness pressed against Colin’s chest. That was the way it was in the smuggling world. No one would dare speak out against the ring for fear of retribution. “Who was it?”
McKinney shrugged. “I’d never seen him before.”
“Where’s the man now?”
“He stayed here one night and was gone the next day. A new trading company has come through and increased traffic even more. To that point, our friend is back.”
Colin frowned. “Who’s that?”
“Dent.”
McKinney nodded toward the corner Dent frequented.
Colin lifted his gaze, and at the sight, he went on alert. After all, not only was Dent one of the main suspects for the smuggling, but he was the one-handed man who had threatened Miss Creston.
The thin man huddled in the corner, alone. He bent his head over his meal, his shaggy hair hanging in his face, seemingly oblivious to anyone around him.
Colin returned his attention to McKinney. “Thought he hadn’t been seen in a while.”
McKinney stretched out his long legs. “You know how these traders are. Some come through regular, and others are a bit more unpredictable. He’s just come through a few days ago, and now he’s on his way back.”
Just as Colin was about to respond, the door flung open to reveal a youth—one of the youths Colin had encountered that morning many weeks ago in Mr. Bradford’s study. His small chest heaved and his eyes were wide. He scanned the room.
The boy’s panicked expression alarmed Colin, so he stood and went to him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
The boy gasped for air. “Is Mr. Bradford here?”
Colin sensed McKinney approaching from behind. “No, you just missed him. Did you not pass him on the road?”
The boy shook his head. “No, sir.”
“Is something wrong?”
The boy gasped for air. “We saw a man sneaking around on the home grounds. He tried to get in, Mr. Galloway. Some of the boys scared him off, but I got out to find Mr. Bradford.”
Colin looked over his shoulder to make eye contact with McKinney and gauge his opinion, but as he did, he noticed something else.
Dent had disappeared.
Every muscle tensed and Colin gripped the boy’s shoulders. “You stay here. I will go check it out.”
“But I can’t stay here,” the youth protested. “I must—”
Colin looked directly at the boy. “Stay here until I come back for you, is that clear?”
McKinney was now just behind him. His usually jovial expression was darkened.
Colin directed his words toward McKinney. “Where did Dent go?”
“I don’t know.” McKinney shrugged. “I looked up and he was gone.”
Colin looked at the boy. “You stay here, all right?”
The boy nodded.
McKinney adjusted his coat. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to find Dent.” Colin pulled his hat low over his eyes.
“What, now?” McKinney gaped.
Colin gave a sharp nod. “Yep. And you are coming with me. Go get your weapon and I will find my cousin,” he said. “Meet me back here.”
McKinney lowered his voice to just barely above a whisper. “What’s the plan?”
“Not sure yet. But the boy should have met Bradford on the road.”
“Unless Bradford was not headed home.”
“And now Dent has seemed to evaporate. If Dent is connected somehow to the activity at the foundling home and he heard the boy’s words, then perhaps he went to secure something. Or warn someone. I suspect if we can find Dent, we will be that much closer to figuring this out.”
By the time Colin had returned to the boardinghouse, informed Henry of the night’s happenings, and returned to the alley by the Pigeon’s Rest Inn, McKinney was waiting for them. Drizzle fell in uneven mists, and a haze blanketed Northrop.
“Where’s the boy?” Colin asked.
“He’s inside with Martha. She gave him some tarts and suddenly he wasn’t so concerned about getting back to the home anymore.”
“Good.” Colin said the word aloud, but in fact nothing was good at all. There were many other children in harm’s way at the moment.
The men decided to take a back road through the Black Wood Forest to the foundling home, avoiding Benton Bridge and the other main roads.
Colin had expected Dent to retreat to the forest, where he could hide in the shadows and mist. But by the time they reached the home, there was no sign of him. No noise, no activity, only stillness.
The trio settled in a low-lying spot at the forest’s edge, one where they could easily keep an eye on the foundling home and the toolshed where one of the tunnels emerged. The home rose up majestically to meet the pewter-tinged clouds. But tonight the structure seemed to cast eerie, foreboding shadows. An occasional shadow would pass across one of the foundling home windows, but otherwise, all seemed normal.
“Don’t think we are going to see anything here,” growled McKinney, shifting his weight. “Think we ought to go check on the children?”
Colin was about to agree when he thought he saw movement along the tree line. How this reminded him of another time so very long ago, when he hunched in battle waiting for an enemy to burst forth.
He adjusted his grip on his pistol and fixed his eyes on the spot as if daring it to move again.
An owl’s cry broke the silence, and Colin squinted into the shadows.
And then they saw him.
A figure, thin and wiry, crept out from the foliage. He was near the small shed, the one that marked the tunnel’s entrance. Colin’s heart raced.
“Think that’s Dent?” asked Henry.
Colin looked to the man’s hands, but darkness covered all. “Not sure.”
McKinney kept his voice low. “I’d be willing to bet that wherever Dent is, Stanway is near. Stanway wasn’t with him at the inn, but from what I’ve observed, where one is, the other is close behind.”
Colin nodded. It would be foolish to assume that Dent was doing anything alone, and now he wondered if Stanway might be the man the children saw earlier.
McKinney jerked his head toward the forest. “What are you wanting to do? Follow him?”
Colin licked his lips, forcing his mind to stay calm. He wanted this business to be done, for as long as there was smuggling going on, the safety of the village was in jeopardy.
/> As Colin was weighing the best course of action, the man crept back out from the shadows, like an animal in slow retreat. He hunched as if dragging something behind him.
McKinney leaned close. “What’s he doing?”
Colin strained his eyes to watch the man. He appeared to be headed toward one of the home’s side doors. Alarm rushed him. Colin had assumed that any criminal activity was confined to the tunnels.
“Is he going into the foundling home?” whispered Henry.
The very question sent a chill through Colin. There were children in that building. Young, innocent children. And as far as they knew, Bradford may or may not be there to protect them.
“I don’t know, but I am going to find out. McKinney, you go check the shed where the tunnel leads. Do you know the one I am talking about?”
McKinney nodded his understanding.
“Henry, you take the far side of that fence. The other tunnel comes up just on the other side of the gate. See what you can find. But be careful. Signal with an owl’s call if you need any help.” Colin pressed his finger to his lips to remind the men to be quiet, left his comrades, and made his way along the forest’s edge, just as the mystery man had done.
Once he was closer, he got a better view of the situation at hand. The side door to the yard where the children played was slightly ajar. A faint yellow glow flickered from the space.
He held his breath in sickened disbelief as the shifty man made his way to the open door, dragging something behind him as he did.
Colin had not been in the rooms beyond Bradford’s office, and he was not completely familiar with the home’s layout, but he noticed the same flickering light coming from Bradford’s study.
The man had closed the door behind him, and Colin took advantage of this cover to hurry over to the window.
He lifted his head just enough to see over the window’s ledge. He saw Dent and Stanway inside, standing before an open door in Bradford’s office.
Anger flared and his chest tightened painfully. In that instant, all the lines connected. Every bit of evidence thus far made sense. Bradford was a part of this, and far from oblivious to what was happening in his own backyard. True, Bradford’s timepiece had been found at the scene, and that could, he supposed, have been an accident of sorts. But now, with the two main suspects in Bradford’s study, there could be no denying it.
Colin turned his attention back to the men in the study. They stood at an open door he had never noticed before on the opposite side of the desk. The door appeared to be built into the wall paneling, undoubtedly to disguise it. Through the opening, it looked as if a staircase led to a lower level, and the walls seemed to be made of a familiar brick—the same brick that lined the tunnels. Suddenly, it made sense. The disguised doors. The hidden tunnels. They were all connected.
Colin watched the men for several moments, then shifted his gaze to the other side of the room. Where was Bradford? If he had been coming back here from the inn, he should have arrived by now. Colin cast a glance over his shoulder to the road, as if he expected to see the man walking up it. But all was shrouded in hovering mist.
He would not allow this opportunity to slide. He assessed the men for weapons. Their weapons might be concealed, but a pistol sat on Bradford’s desk in plain view. He saw nothing else.
He was about to straighten when a sharp jab to his spine stopped him.
“You just can’t leave well enough alone, can you, Galloway?”
Colin stiffened at the familiar voice. Bradford.
Bradford continued. “Just go ahead and toss that pistol on the ground there.”
At that moment, Stanway opened a side garden door, saw Colin, and leveled a knife at his head. It would be fruitless to attempt to fight them off, not with a pistol behind him and a blade before him.
Colin obeyed and tossed his weapon on the ground. He locked eyes with Stanway and kept his voice sharp. “Seems I’ve been outplayed, is that not right, Bradford?”
“You’ll be coming with me.” Bradford’s motions grew rougher by the moment. “Let’s just say I’ll not be underestimating you again, Galloway.”
Again.
Colin fixed his feet firmly to keep his balance as Bradford pushed him forward. “Walk.”
Colin complied, not taking his eyes off of Stanway. He stumbled over the uneven ground. He could only hope that McKinney or Henry had observed what happened, but he could not be sure. And he had his blade in his boot, just as he always did. It was not an inconceivable idea that he could wrest away from these men, even while they were armed, but he needed to be smart about how to proceed. He clenched his jaw as Bradford shoved him into the house.
Chapter Forty-One
Once inside Bradford’s stifling study, the image Colin had glimpsed through the window was much clearer. There was indeed a door that he had never noticed before. In fact, Colin realized, the entire wall was a line of paneled doors that might be closets or entries to other tunnels. A second panel was slightly ajar.
“So you knew of the tunnels the entire time, did you?” Colin said more as a statement than a question as he fixed his eyes on Bradford.
“They’ve been around longer than you or I. I’m surprised, actually, that someone so observant as yourself never noticed.”
Bradford’s dripping sarcasm irked Colin. Bradford’s coat sat askew on his shoulders, and his neck cloth had come untied. He moved past Colin, and the scent of spirits hung heavy in the air. Colin soaked in all the details he could before Bradford’s heavy hand pushed him down into a chair.
Dent stepped in through the tunnel door’s opening and caught sight of Colin. His face twisted in question. “What’s he doing here?”
Bradford cut his eyes toward the smaller man, accusation stiffening each word. “Thought you weren’t followed.”
Dent dropped a crate on the ground. “Didn’t think I was.”
Bradford gave Dent a warning glance and motioned for Stanway to continue lowering crates into the tunnel. “Go find me a length of rope to secure him. Quickly. Then get back to work.”
Bradford cocked his pistol, blew something off of it, and returned his attention to Colin. “Congratulations, Magistrate Galloway. I had a nasty hunch that you were going to figure this out sooner or later. You were always clever. After all, the simpletons surrounding us may believe in ghosts and spirits and fairies, but you? Surely not.”
Colin ignored the sarcasm. “So are you going to let me in on your little secret?”
Bradford shrugged, no doubt in an attempt to appear untroubled, but the tightening of his jaw betrayed him. “What does it look like to you?”
Perspiration trickled down the side of Colin’s face. His waistcoat felt too tight, his neck cloth restrictive. The gravity of his situation pressed heavily on him. But he could not let his nerves show. “Come now, Bradford. I’d expect you to be above smuggling.”
“Would you?” Bradford asked. “And I never took you to be so naïve.”
“There are children near,” reasoned Colin. “Innocent children whom you have vowed to protect. Think on it, Bradford. The presence of these men puts them in danger.”
“The children are in no danger,” Bradford shot back through clenched teeth.
“Really?” huffed Colin in pointed disbelief and fixed his eyes on the pistol still poised in Bradford’s hands. Light from the dying fire reflected on the shiny metal. “I don’t know about that.”
He was poking Bradford, he knew. But Colin was not one to back down.
Colin continued to stare at the reflection, and the sad reality became clear. All these years everyone had believed Bradford’s determination to run the foundling home had been in earnest. All this time, had he only been interested in the building itself, for the tunnels and secrets it hid? Colin could only guess there was much more to the circumstances than met the eye. For all the stories that had come out of the forest of ghosts and people disappearing and folklore suddenly made sense. This building had to be ti
ed to it in some way.
Bradford sat atop his desk, half watching the man in the tunnel and half watching Colin. His foot tapped an erratic rhythm on the wood floor, the sound magnified in the quiet space.
From the looks of things, Bradford was getting desperate. If Colin knew anything about desperate men, it was that they were capable of anything. He wondered how long it would take McKinney and Henry to figure out what had happened. Hopefully not much longer. If only he could get to the blade in his boot and not be detected.
Colin considered Miss Creston. How easily things could have taken a much darker path had Bradford lured her into this world. Either he loved her, as he claimed, or he knew of her inheritance and the wealth that would accompany such a union.
He needed to formulate a plan and quickly. He scanned the room for exits. The door between Bradford’s study and the foyer was closed. The front windows were latched. That left the door to the home’s halls and the series of secret paneled doors that seemed to line the room. He focused his attention on another paneled door that was ajar.
Was it just his imagination, or did he see a flash of movement in the opening?
Colin bit his lip and watched as closely as he could without giving the impression that he was staring.
He noticed another movement. It was long, dark fabric, like that of a gown. And then he saw the toe of a narrow boot. Someone else was in this room. A woman.
Colin shifted his eyes back to Bradford so the captor would not grow suspicious.
Bradford turned his attention once again to Colin. “We had such a lovely arrangement all these years, did we not? Pity you had to ruin it.”
Colin unclenched his jaw. “It will all catch up with you sooner or later, do you not know that?”
Bradford snorted. “Well, for that to be true, this would all need to be reported, and you are the only one who knows of our little arrangement. And there are ways to prevent you from sharing what you know.”
Dawn at Emberwilde Page 28
