by H. L. Burke
“Spare the rod, spoil the child.” He shrugged. “Those clouts were just good parenting.”
She snorted. “Oh yes, you were a fine parent. Let’s go, Theo.” She tried to tug the boy around him, but Al grabbed her shoulder.
“You know what would’ve happened to you if I hadn’t stepped up when your parents died?” He leaned closer. “I didn’t have to take you in. I could’ve got a pretty penny for a waif like you, but I didn’t. Why? Because you’re family and family takes care of family.”
“You know so much about family.” Nyssa scowled. Her heart pounded against her rib cage, trying to escape this man and the memories his presence summoned. “Anything I might’ve owed you was canceled out by what you made me do.”
“And what exactly did I make you do? Learn a trade? Become a success? I made you who you are, Nyssy girl. You owe everything to me. If not for my care, your only way of earning your bread would be on your back.” He grinned at her.
Nyssa’s pulse spiked. “Don’t you ever speak to me like that.”
“Oh, are you too refined for such things now? Or does it hurt because it’s true? Is that how you got your start with your crippled friend? A man in a chair must be desperate for some —”
Nyssa’s palm slapped against his cheek before she’d even considered her actions. He snatched her by the wrist and wrenched her around. Hot pain shot through her arm.
“Stop it!” Theo pushed himself between Nyssa and Uncle Al. Al shoved Nyssa against the window of the shop but let her go. Nyssa turned back, her chest heaving.
Several onlookers stopped and stared, all from a safe distance. Down the street the clock tower began to toll noon. Theo stood before Al, quivering.
Al eyed him, then her. He rubbed his cheek. Her hand print glowed beneath his whiskers.
“You owe me, and no one leaves me without paying their debts. No one.” He narrowed his eyes. Theo shied back into Nyssa. “When I take in a family member, when I teach them my trade and give them my food, I expect to get something in return. You think you can just slip into proper society? That’s not what you are. You’re a thief. You may hide it for a while, but when people find out the truth, they’ll toss you back on the street, and you’ll be begging me to let you in on another score. No one leaves me.”
“I already left you.” Nyssa kept her voice steady. “You just haven’t realized it yet.”
“Maybe … but when folks find out the truth, let’s see how your cozy new family reacts.” Uncle Al straightened his bowler hat and strode away.
Nyssa let her muscles relax. The truth? What truth? Ellis already knows everything about my past, and due to Uncle Al, half the San Azulan population now knows as well. What truth is there left to find?
Still, her uncle’s surety left doubt clutching her heart like a cold hand. “Come on, Theo,” she whispered. “Let’s get back.”
Chapter Eight
Nyssa stormed into the shop, the doorbell jangling overhead.
Ellis looked up from the workbench and raised his eyebrows. “Uh-oh. I don’t like that face. What happened?”
Theo slunk past them into the main body of the house, not even stopping to show Ellis his brand new clothes.
Nyssa drew a deep breath. “Have you heard back from Amara yet?”
“No. It’s only been a few hours. I’m sure we will soon.”
She hung her satchel on a hook behind the counter. “My uncle made an appearance, to see if he’d worn me down yet, I’m assuming.”
Ellis’s face darkened. “He didn’t hurt you?”
“No.” Not enough to worry you about. “He just spouted more nonsense. I think I misread him. I thought he was being opportunistic, that I’d be an easy mark, but to hear him talk, he’s actually deluded himself into thinking that because he took care of me in my childhood, I should now support him in his old age.” She shook her head. “Maybe he got knocked in the head one too many times in prison.”
“People can justify just about anything.” Ellis wheeled closer and took her hand. Rage contorted his face, and he held up her wrist. Red welts marked where Uncle Al had grabbed her. “I thought you said he didn’t hurt you?”
“It’s nothing.” She pulled away.
“No, it’s something.” His fingers tightened on the arms of his chair. “You can’t hide things like that from me. If you do, how can I protect you?”
“I can look after myself, Ellis.” She stood straighter. “It’s not your job to protect me.”
“Yes, it is!” His voice deepened. “I may not be able to walk, but that doesn’t make me any less a man, and if your uncle is going to threaten the woman I love, I’m going to deal with him.”
She stared at him. “I didn’t mean … I know you can.”
“Are you sure? Because you aren’t acting like it.” He steered away from her.
Her heart twisted. “I’m sorry. Please.” She cut him off and knelt before him. “I grew up having to look after myself, and it … it’s hard for me to depend on anyone. My first instinct is always going to be to solve my own problems and … I hate when you worry about me.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here for you.”
“I know.” She smiled.
Ellis pulled her onto his lap and kissed her. She yielded to him, his touch unraveling the knot of anger in her chest. His lips glided over her cheek, soft and warm. Her whole being relaxed.
He stroked her injured wrist and shook his head. “I should’ve said it was urgent in the telegram to Amara. This has gone on far too long.”
“What did you tell Amara?”
“Just that we needed to talk at her earliest convenience.” He shrugged. “I didn’t think we wanted the details in any form of written record, even a telegram.”
“You’re probably right.” Kissing his forehead one last time, she stood. “Any customers while we were out?”
“One. An older woman. I think she just wanted to gawk, though. Kept craning her neck to try and see back into the house and asked where my ‘lady colleague’ was.” A smile broke through the grim expression on his face. “I sold her a radio set, though.”
“Good. Our first sale in, what, three days now?”
“About that. Maybe she’ll tell the neighbors we aren’t such vagabonds after all.”
She grimaced. “Your reputation has never been questioned. It’s mine we have to convince people of.”
“As far as I’m concerned, there is no mine or yours anymore. What we’ve built here is ours.” His hand brushed her arm then trailed down to play with her fingers.
“Oh, you’re back.”
The couple looked up as Mrs. H bustled in, carrying a plate of beans and rice, with flat bread on the side to soak up the sauce.
“I didn’t hear you come in, or I would’ve brought out a plate for you as well, Miss Nyssa. Or have you already eaten?” She laid the plate on Ellis’s workbench.
“Not yet. Theo didn’t tell you we’d come back?” Nyssa asked. “I thought he’d head straight to the kitchen.”
“I didn’t see him.”
Nyssa wiped her suddenly damp palms on her pant legs. “That’s strange.” My uncle scared the daylights out of the poor boy. What if he’s hiding in a corner, crying and shivering?
“He’s probably upstairs. I’ll go get him.” Nyssa jogged to the second story. “Theo?” she called into the sitting room. Only the ticking of the three-faced clock answered her. She paused, listening for any sign of a crying boy, then hurried back down to the kitchen. A pot of beans simmered on the stove. A heavenly smell of onions, garlic, and cumin wafted from it. That should’ve been enough to draw the boy like metal to a magnet. He wouldn’t have gone into Ellis’s quarters, would he? The door to the washroom was open, revealing the small space to be empty.
Hoping he’d miraculously re-materialized, she returned to the workshop.
“Did you find him?” Ellis asked, his brows furrowed. Mrs. H leaned closer
.
Nyssa shook her head, suddenly feeling numb all over.
Don’t panic. He’s only been gone a few minutes. But where to?
“Maybe he went out back,” Ellis suggested.
“There’s nothing out there but trash barrels and old crates,” Mrs. H said. “Why would he be back there?”
“When I was his age, I loved old crates,” Ellis said.
“I’ll go check,” Nyssa said.
She exited the back of the house through the kitchen.
The sun had baked the narrow space to a nose-wrinkling ripeness. Wooden boxes leaned in a haphazard stack beside the bins of old newspapers and vegetable peelings.
“Theo?” She picked her way over the scattered filth.
If he came out here, he’s going to need a bath.
Something rustled behind a rain barrel near the corner of the house.
“Are you there?” she called.
The boy emerged from the narrow space between their house and the shop to the left. He slumped towards her.
“What were you doing in there? This place is filthy.” She brushed off his vest. “You don’t want to ruin your new clothes, do you?”
“Sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
“Are you all right?” She tilted her head. “I know what happened today was scary.”
“He was going to hurt you.” Theo rubbed his nose on his sleeve.
Nyssa winced and handed him a handkerchief. “He just wanted to scare me. You stood up to him, though. You’re a brave kid. Come on. Mrs. H made lunch.”
She started towards the door, but Theo lingered behind.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Once you’ve done bad things, do people ever forget?” His bottom lip quivered.
Nyssa’s heart clenched. “Forget, maybe not, but forgive, yes.”
“But if they don’t forget, aren’t you always the person who did the bad thing? Like Al said, you’ll always be a thief. Won’t I always be a thief, too?” He drew closer to her.
“No, of course not.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Theo, you’re so young. You have plenty of time to become whatever you want to be. Besides, you aren’t a thief to me, or Ellis, or Mrs. H.”
“Miss Nyssa? Did you find him?” Mrs. H called from the kitchen door.
“Yes. We’ll be right in.” Nyssa ruffled Theo’s hair because it seemed like a comforting gesture, the sort of thing a parent would do. “Let’s have lunch.”
Theo settled at the kitchen table and picked at a bowl of beans and rice.
“Is he all right?” Mrs. H whispered.
“He’ll be fine once your cooking kicks in.” Nyssa smiled, hoping it wasn’t a lie. The shop bell rang across the hall. “Excuse me.” She ducked out of the kitchen.
When she entered the shop, Ellis was passing a coin to a messenger boy in a black uniform with bronze buttons. The young man said thanks, then exited the shop.
Ellis held up a yellow envelope. He ripped it open. “Amara would be delighted to entertain us tomorrow at noon for lunch. Should I try to get her to see us sooner?”
Nyssa shook her head. “We should be fine until then. I’ve set up the alarm system, so it isn’t as if Uncle Al can just pop in uninvited.” She let out a long breath.
Amara has to be able to do something. She’s married to the island’s heir apparent, for Spark’s sake. Less than twenty-four hours and this nightmare will be over.
“Theo all right?” Ellis stuck the telegram on a spike on his workbench.
“I’m not sure. My uncle shook him up. Theo seemed to instinctively know Al was bad news.”
“Kids are perceptive … kids and dogs. When I was a boy, my dad wouldn’t do business with anyone his basset hound didn’t like.” Ellis laughed. “For all my dad’s faults, he loved that stupid, floppy eared dog.”
Nyssa whisked a cloth over the counter, not because it was dusty, but to keep her hands busy. In spite of the good news of Amara’s potential help, something twitched in the back of her head like rusty clockwork.
Uncle Al has to have a better plan than threatening me a few times. The man used to plan burglaries down to the second, and he knows I’m no pushover. Something else is coming.
She’d triple check the burglar alarm before bed. Dear old Uncle Al won’t catch me unprepared.
Chapter Nine
The stairs grew narrower as Nyssa climbed. In the distance, Ellis’s three-faced clock ticked, speaking to her, warning her. She needed to reach it, to find the message he’d left her, but the stairs stretched on, dark, tight. Her shoulders scraped the walls. She couldn’t breathe. With a push she forced herself through the gap into the sitting room.
A bright fire crackled like laughing voices, but the clock now drummed in her ears.
I’m missing something. Why can’t I understand?
The steady tick-tock turned to long and short clicks. Morse code? She knew that. She could understand. But no, every time she thought she’d deciphered the pattern, it changed.
“It’s right in front of you.”
She whirled about. Ellis stood before her.
“You should see it. It’s happened before. Why can’t you see it?” He stepped closer and his face morphed, high cheekbones sinking in, dark eyes fading into Uncle Al’s watery gray irises. She shrieked and struck out, and he shattered into shards of glass.
Her heart pounded with the clock. She needed to stop it. If she could silence the clock, she’d be able to think. She’d understand the message. The floor undulated beneath her, but she stumbled to the clock.
Instead of hands, a cat and a mouse spun around the face, chasing each other endlessly. Nyssa reached out to stop them and found herself swirling with them, caught, unable to break free, the world spinning out of control.
She screamed.
***
Nyssa jerked upright and gasped for breath. Her hands clenched her blankets, real, solid. She inhaled.
“Stupid dreams.” Kicking off her covers, she sat at the edge of the bed. Somewhere in the distance a cock crowed. She felt for the small alarm clock. The irradiated hands indicated it was almost five a.m.
Rising, she opened the shutters and stared out over roof-tops bathed in the cold light of early morning. A lone steam-wagon rattled down the street. On the horizon, the line of sea shone golden in the rising sun. If she squinted, she could just make out the cylindrical shapes of the zeppelins moored by the docks.
She closed her eyes, trying to forget the image of Ellis’s face melting into Uncle Al’s.
“Well, now that I’m up, I might as well have a cup of tea.”
After dressing, she exited her room into the sitting room. She tiptoed across, not wanting to disturb Theo. The boy still slept on his cot, his head under the blanket.
Still sound asleep. Poor kid’s had a rough few days.
When she stepped on the first step, it creaked like an old man moaning about rheumatism. Nyssa winced and glanced back. Theo didn’t stir.
Reaching the hall at the bottom of the stairs, she paused to take in the silence. No rattle of pans. No grinding from Ellis’s chair. A draft snaked around her, and she shivered.
“Did someone leave a window cracked?” Nyssa mumbled, lapsing into her old quirk of talking to herself.
She used to talk to herself while she worked, finding it helped her think. Since Ellis, though, every time she started an intended one-sided conversation, he’d responded.
“Odd how in only a few months he’s made me alter such a long term habit.” She glanced towards the door to his rooms and blinked. It was open. Was he up already? She peeked in.
Papers were scattered about the floor, and the safe on the wall sat open.
Nyssa’s jaw dropped. Where was Ellis? Was he okay? She rushed to his bedroom door and pulled it open.
He grunted and sat up in bed. His blanket slipped revealing a hairless but well-formed chest.
She flushed. “Are … are you all right?”
&n
bsp; “Yeah.” He rubbed his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Get dressed. You’ll see soon enough.” She turned away.
A moment later she heard the whir and click of his chair. He wheeled out.
“What the …?” He hardened his expression. “Have you checked what’s gone yet?”
She strode over. The safe was completely empty. The papers lying every which way might be some of their personal documents—their forged passports, the deed to their home—but everything of transferable value would most certainly be gone.
“All the bonds? Were they in your name?” she asked.
“No … I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to prove my identity, so I took all bearer bonds. Anyone would be able to cash them.” He tugged at his disheveled hair. “Damnit. How did they get in?”
Nyssa’s stomach twisted. This was her fault. She should’ve known not to underestimate Uncle Al. Still, that alarm system was top notch. She wouldn’t have been able to disable it, and Uncle Al wasn’t half as good as she was with electrical based alarms. He was an old fashioned, lock picks and brute force sort of thief.
“I can’t believe I slept through this,” Ellis said.
“I can. A burglar works in silence.” Nyssa kicked at a loose leaf of paper. “Come on. Let’s check the rest of the house.”
When she entered the hall, the same draft brought goosebumps to her arms. At a glance, the workshop appeared undisturbed. However, the kitchen door was wide open.
“He went in and out through here, then?” Ellis rolled up behind her.
“Must have.” Nyssa examined the door, trying to see how he’d jimmied it without triggering the alarm. No scratch marks on the lock. No broken frame. “Could we have forgotten to lock it?”
“No. I double checked every door and window last night. Where’s the control panel for the alarm again?”
“The workshop, under the counter.”
Ellis left the kitchen. “Nyss,” he called a minute later. “It’s been switched off.”
Nyssa scurried into the shop. “That’s impossible. I set it …” Her head spun. “I need to check on Theo.” She darted up the stairs. The bundle of blankets still rested on the cot. She yanked back the first, revealing a pillow and Theo’s old coat, wadded up in a ball. On top of it sat Theo’s repaired pocket watch.
