Rebecca Hagan Lee (33 page)

“You were so tired you missed dinner,” James reminded her. “
Again
,” he added for emphasis. “That’s two nights in a row. You fell asleep while you were dressing.”

Elizabeth suddenly beamed at him, understanding at last, that James wasn’t questioning her ability to do her job, just suggesting that she be allowed to work up to the current schedule until she became accustomed to keeping track of three small children and a newborn baby on a daily basis. He wasn’t criticizing her, just showing his concern. And that changed everything. “You worry too much,” she replied indulgently, lovingly.

“I wasn’t worried,” James denied quickly.

“Really?” Elizabeth cast a saucy glance at him. “You were sitting on the balcony outside my room last night.”

“I’ve already explained that I sat out on the balcony to smoke a cigar,” James answered, beginning to feel a bit uneasy, wondering what Elizabeth would say next.

“Was that the only reason? Just to smoke a cigar?”

“Of course,” James lied. “What other reason could there be?”

“I don’t know.” Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders in an elegantly nonchalant gesture. “But I thought there must be some other reason because”—her eyes sparkled with mischief—“you forgot your shoes.”

James’s mouth fell open.

“I found them under my bed this morning.”

“
WHAT DID YOU
find out?” James asked as he and Will walked down the brick path from Craig House to the office after breakfast. “Did your friend at the
Chronicle
know anything about Elizabeth’s brother?”

“Old Cromartie was a veritable fount of information about Elizabeth Sadler’s brother, Owen.” Will grinned at James, showing off a bit because he’d been able to get the information James wanted in less than twenty-four hours. Of course, James could have gotten the same information in less time if he hadn’t been in such a hurry to get Elizabeth away from San Francisco and safe in Coryville. “Owen Sadler died a little over two months ago in Lo Peng’s Red Dragon on Washington Street in San Francisco.”

“How?”

“He succumbed to the lure of the poppy,” Will explained, pulling out a little notebook and glancing at it. “According to Cromartie, who interviewed everyone he could find who knew Owen Sadler, young Sadler came out from Providence, Rhode Island, on a grand California adventure. Unfortunately, a young friend of his introduced Owen to the pleasures offered at the Red Dragon. Sadler’s
friend apparently frequented the upstairs business, but Owen preferred the opium. He ran out of money, and instead of writing home and asking for more, his friend told Cromartie that Owen began clerking in the Wells Fargo Bank on Montgomery Street. His friend remembered that bit of information because he’d found it strange that Owen would rather work in the bank than wire home and ask his grandmother, who owns a bank in Providence, for money. Did you know Elizabeth’s family owned a bank.”

James nodded. “She mentioned it. Go on.”

“Apparently, Owen wrote home to Elizabeth because when she arrived in San Francisco, four days ago, she knew Owen lived at Ordley’s Boardinghouse on Montgomery Street and she knew he worked at the Wells Fargo Bank. What she didn’t know was what happened to him. When she got to the boardinghouse, Mrs. Ordley sent her to the police station, and the sergeant on duty informed her that Owen had died more than two months ago—presumably in the Red Dragon, since his body was found in the place where Lo Peng’s men always dump dead occidentals.”

James closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, imagining Elizabeth traveling three thousand miles to join her brother, and then finding out he was dead. James knew firsthand how the news had devastated her. “Anything else?”

“She spent the night at the Russ House Hotel, left early in the morning in a hired hack, and went back to the police station. She spoke to Sergeant…” Will consulted his notebook. “Darnell, who told her about the paupers’ cemetery near Saint Mary’s Church. Elizabeth left the police station on foot—”

“She
walked
from the police station to Saint Mary’s?” James interrupted. “Through Chinatown? Alone?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“What happened when she got to Saint Mary’s?” James asked.

“Father Paul, one of the priests there, took her to the
paupers’ graves. He didn’t remember Owen exactly, but he remembered that there had been three young men, over the past few months, whose bodies had been found dumped nearby. Elizabeth chose one of the three fresh graves, proclaimed it Owen’s, and set off for Dorminey’s Stone Works on Larkin Street, where she ordered a polished marble headstone. She paid for half of it on order and promised the rest when it was delivered.” Will paused. “Do you want me to pay it off?”

“Not yet,” James said. “But contact him and have him notify me when he’s ready to set it up and have him send the final bill to me. Anything else?”

“Elizabeth also made a rather generous donation to Father Paul for the upkeep of the cemetery. She left the stone works and found lodging at Augusta Bender’s and spent one night there. She went on her rampage at the Red Dragon the following afternoon
after
she was warned by one of Augusta’s girls that the police planned to ‘pinch her for stealing a rich gent’s handkerchief.’ The police arrested her at the Red Dragon some time later, on charges of theft and vandalism. She went before Judge Clermont and was fined fifty dollars or three days in jail. Apparently, she didn’t have fifty dollars, because she elected to serve time in jail.”

James held up his hand. “All right, all right. I know the rest.” He looked over at Will. “I’m impressed. Tell me, how did Cromartie get this information?”

“I told him what you told me of her background and her whereabouts and he followed her trail right up to the jail, where you’re spoken of in less than complimentary terms at the moment.” Will grinned at James. “By the way, you owe me three bottles of Napoleon brandy and a case of champagne, oh, and a pair of season tickets to the opera!”

James whistled through his teeth. “Cromartie’s information didn’t come cheaply.”

“He was risking a lot in telling me,” Will reminded him.

“I’m not complaining about the price, Will,” James said.
“The fact that the information cost so much tells me exactly how much Cromartie was risking.”

Will nodded. “Cromartie didn’t have any trouble getting the information. The risk was in giving it to me.” He looked over at James. “Our reputation has preceded us, my friend. Lo Peng not only knows just about everything there is to know about you, he knows what there is to know about me as well. And Cromartie will have to walk a very fine line for a while in order to show Lo Peng and the Tong that he isn’t siding with us,” Will said as he and James reached their offices in the Craig Capital building.

“I’m sorry.” James sighed. “I shouldn’t have embroiled you or your friend in this.”

“What are friends and partners for?” Will asked with a shrug. “Besides, I’m already embroiled in it. There’s more to this than Elizabeth and Owen Sadler, Jamie.”

James raised an eyebrow at that.

“There’s trouble in our high timber and mining camps,” Will told him. “Labor unrest. The Welsh and the Cornishmen aren’t happy sharing a camp with Chinese.”

James swore viciously.

“It gets worse, Jamie. I heard this morning that the Tong has put out the word against you. Permission has been revoked. You won’t be getting any more baby girls.”

“Lo Peng and I have an understanding,” James said. “He knows that I’m as powerful in my own way as he is. And my reach into Hong Kong and China is almost as long as his.”

“You
had
an understanding that kept him from openly warring with you and with me,” Will corrected. “But this thing with Elizabeth changed all that. Lo Peng blames you for the destruction on the Red Dragon as well as what happened back in Hong Kong.”

“Why should the old hypocrite care about what happened in Hong Kong?” James demanded. “He’s the one who sold her to that Cantonese flesh peddler in the first place.”

“Mei Ling was his niece and he holds you responsible for her death.”

James sucked in a breath. He hadn’t heard Mei Ling’s name spoken aloud by anyone but himself since she’d died. “I
am
responsible for her death,” James said heavily.

“Jamie,” Will said softly, “Mei Ling was responsible for her death, not you.”

James turned to his friend, his face a mask of pain and torment. “Tell that to my heart! All she asked was that I forgive her. And I couldn’t! I couldn’t forgive her.”

“She wanted your forgiveness to make things right, Jamie. I can’t count the number of times during your marriage that Mei Ling did things she knew you wouldn’t like, then begged your forgiveness for her actions. She thought forgiveness equaled approval. If you forgave her, it meant that you approved of what she’d done.”

“I know that,” James said, tears sparkling in his eyes. “I wanted to forgive her. But I couldn’t. And she died because of it.”

“Mei Ling died because she couldn’t forgive herself. She couldn’t live with what she’d done. If you had forgiven her, she’d have convinced herself that she did what she did because you wanted it done—even if you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. She’d have convinced herself that she was right to do it. For you. For her husband.”

James turned to Will, pinning him with his gaze. “You could have forgiven her.”

Will blinked twice and stared at James without saying anything.

“You loved her as much as I did, Will.”

“Jamie, I …”

James held up his hand to forestall any argument. “It didn’t matter, Will. I loved her. You loved her. We both loved her. I’ve known that from the start.” James shook his head. “You couldn’t help it any more than I could. And I never held it against you. How could I? You’re the brother I never had. We’re as alike as two men can be. Why wouldn’t we fall in love with the same woman?”

“I never wanted you to know,” Will said. “I never wanted Mei Ling to know.”

“Did she?”

Will shook his head. “She wasn’t interested in me. She had you.”

James nodded in understanding. Neither one of them was willing to say aloud what they both knew to be true. Mei Ling had chosen the heir to Craig Capital. And if the situation had been reversed, if Will had been the heir to Craig Capital, Mei Ling would have probably chosen him.

“You wouldn’t have let her die, Will,” James said. “Your heart is bigger than mine, your well of forgiveness is deeper.” He squeezed his eyes shut, squeezing back the pain, blocking the tears. “If she’d married you, Mei Ling would still be alive. Because you could have found it in your heart to forgive her.”

“No, Jamie,” Will said. “You’re wrong. I didn’t see what you saw. I didn’t suffer all you suffered, and yet, I have nightmares just like you do. I couldn’t forgive her while she was alive, and I haven’t forgiven her now that she’s dead. There are some things only God can forgive. Mei Ling’s crime was one of them.”

James nodded. He had spent the past three years wondering how Will felt and now he was satisfied. He didn’t know if the knowledge that Will didn’t hold Mei Ling’s death against him would help him sleep better at night, but the sleep didn’t matter. The knowing was enough. He held out his hand to Will, then reached over and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thank you, my friend.”

“All you had to do was ask, Jamie. Like you said before, I’m the brother you never had.” Will walked over to the cabinets behind James’s desk, opened the top one, and took out a bottle of aged Scots whisky and two glasses. He poured a shot for James and one for himself. Will handed James a glass, then lifted his in salute. “Here’s to old friends and better times.”

“Amen.” James clinked his glass to Will’s, then took a sip of the mellow whisky.

ELIZABETH
,
DELIA
,
AND
the Treasures returned from their daily walk in the park at four in the afternoon as scheduled. Ruby was still out of sorts and refusing to have anything at all to do with Elizabeth. At ten minutes past four Delia began preparations for the Treasures’ supper and sometime between four-thirty and six
P.M.
, Portia disappeared from her customary place on the extra pillow on Elizabeth’s bed.

Ruby quickly became the prime suspect in the abduction. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why Portia had disappeared, but it took every bit of Elizabeth’s self-control not to lash out in anger. Her most precious possession—the only personal thing she’d brought with her from the house on Hemlock Street other than her clothes—had disappeared because both Ruby and Garnet wanted her and there wasn’t enough of poor Portia to go around.

By the time the Treasures’ supper was over, the rest of the household had been made aware of the crisis and the search for Portia had begun. Mrs. G. and Annie searched the downstairs, and Delia searched the nursery while Elizabeth bathed Diamond, Emerald, and Garnet and dressed them for bed. The housekeeper and the two maids turned Craig House upside down, searching all of Ruby’s favorite hiding places—all the nooks and crannies that a three-year-old child might find intriguing. But Portia remained lost.