The Circle Eight: Nicholas (20 page)

BOOK: The Circle Eight: Nicholas
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“Who is Miss Gregson?” Mr. Fuller frowned. “I don’t remember a milliner’s shop. Is it near the home?”

Now dread began to wind around his heart. Damn. He hadn’t expected a woman to be involved but it made sense. Children naturally felt more comfortable around females. They would have trusted the women and done what they were told.

“Miss Gregson is the proprietress of the milliner’s shop we visited. It’s a few blocks from the building where the orphanage was housed. It’s called Hats Incredible.”

“I do no
t remember this establishment. It must be new.” Mr. Fuller turned to Nicholas. “Describe her to me please.”

Nick
recounted the bird-like woman and watched the older man’s face. “You know who we’re talking about.”

Mr. Fuller winced. “Yes, I believe it’s a woman who used to work as a cook at the home. Her name is Rowena Halloren. She did her job but was never a pleasant person. I had to relieve her of her position when the home closed, of course.”

Now Layton was interested. “You say this woman is now running a hat shop and changed her name. That ain’t the first time somebody’s done that in Texas.”

“She is the one who led us to Bertha and conveniently told us things about the home as if she’d been a neighbor. Now we know she was lying. She set us up to run around after Martha so she could get rid of Bertha and disappear with whatever she’s made from selling children.” The words spilled from Nick in a rush. He should have followed his instincts to start with and insisted Winnie do the same.

“You think she’s left Houston?” Layton asked.

“No, she’s got too much invested in that damn hat shop. I think she disappeared for a spell until we lose interest in finding her.” Nick made a face. “Although her hats are ugly as hell.”

“Are there records as to who adopted the children from the home?” Winnie had recovered some of her color. “I wonder if this Rowena had been selling children long before the home had to close.”

That particular idea hit like a boulder in a
lake. Mr. Fuller’s mouth dropped open while Layton nodded his head. Nick had considered the slavery hadn’t been a new business for Miss Halloren or whatever her name was.

“She has a partner.” Nick was sure of this particular fact.

“Because she couldn’t have killed Bertha by herself. Miss Gregson, or Halloren, is no bigger than a minute. Bertha is a healthy, robust woman. She couldn’t have let that little woman strangle her without a fight.” Winnie pulled two papers out of her pocket. “I think I know who the partner is.” Her gaze met Nick’s and in it he saw an apology. Whatever she’d discovered from her network of little spies had given her more information than she’d shared with him.

He told himself not to be hurt she hadn’t told him. It wasn’t relevant until now, until they had spoken to Fuller and found out Miss Gregson wasn’t who she said she was.

“What information do you have, Miss Troxler?” Layton was apparently the type who needled people to get a reaction from them.

“That’s Mrs. Graham, not Miss Troxler,” Winnie said primly. “You should start thinking about finding this child slavery business and not poking at me any longer.”

Layton had the grace to look at his feet for a moment. “What information do you have?”

“I had a few friends of mine find out some details about the home that were not well known in Houston.” She sent an apologetic glance at Mr. Fuller. “
While you had the best intentions, sir, I also know human nature. I suspected there was more to this than one child.”

“Please forgive me.” Mr. Fuller leaned back against chair with an exhausted sigh. “I wanted to protect the children, not let wolves carry them away.”

Nick believed him. He had expected the man to be a son of a bitch who didn’t care a whit about the orphans, but he’d been wrong. The old man looked as though someone had punched him in the balls. Pain was clearly evident only his face.

“Tell us what you know.” Layton didn’t spare Fuller a glance.

“There have been children sold from Fuller’s for more than five years before they closed, and for another year after. The buyers were unknown for most of them, while others were more public, like Conklin. Martha wasn’t the first child he bought. The others are presumed dead since no one has seen them for years.” The paper shook in Winnie’s hands.

“What of Ruby and Josie? Were they involved?” Nick had to ask.

At the mention of the women at the Ruby Slipper, Fuller started. Nick watched the old man and saw no guilt.


Josie Fleming?” Fuller stared at Winnie. “She is a friend.”

“I suspect she was more than a friend.” Nick
didn’t take his eyes off the other man. “Both of you have the same wasting sickness.”

Fuller looked stricken. “She is sick?”

“Yes, she is.” Winnie frowned at Nick. “According to her sister, she is dying.”

Fuller put his hand across his eyes. “
I did not know.”

“She is being well cared for and is comfortable. I have to ask, Mr. Fuller, do you wonder if Josie was a part of what happened to the orphans?” Winnie was too nice. Nick would have asked in a bit more straightforward way.

“No. She is an angel on earth. The most beautiful woman I met after I my wife passed away.” Fuller confirmed what Nick suspected. They had been lovers.

“How old are you, Mr. Fuller?”

“Fifty-two.”

Nick was shocked. The older man looked twenty years older than he was. The sickness had stolen much from him and Josie Fleming.

“I asked her to marry me once, but she said no.” Fuller smiled sadly. “I need to see her.”


You can visit her if you like, but only after we help Mr. Layton find the people responsible for the atrocity of this child slavery.” Winnie turned to look at Layton. “We need to start with the Fritz house.”

“The Fritz house.” Layton’s brows went up, the first reaction Nick had seen from him. “The rich folks on the hill?”

“Yes. Mr. Fritz isn’t who he appears to be.”

“You have proof of this?” Layton was back to his dubious self.

“Not yet but I have information. Seven years ago, they lived in a much smaller house on the north side of town. Now, as every Texan struggles to feed themselves, they have a mansion with servants. How do you think they did that?” Winnie glanced at the papers in her hand. “Bertha worked there and Miss Halloren was right around the corner. They have been seen together for years along with Mr. and Mrs. Fritz.”


I can investigate the Fritzes within the confines of the law. If that’s all you’ve got now, no judge in his right mind is going to accept that kind of evidence as proof of anything.” Layton was right.

Nick thought about how his brother Caleb had stolen Benjy from the man who had purchased him. Child slavery was a very real problem and it happened right under people’s noses. He would be pro
ud to be part of stopping a ring of slavers, no matter how hard it was. What else could he claim to have done in his life? Until now, taking care of cows and mucking stalls was the sum of his contributions to the world.

He could make a difference. For the first time in a very long time, he was excited, eager and determined. It all started with the woman who owned his heart.

“Then we find the evidence we need.” Nick earned a small smile from Winnie.

“I’m listening.” Layton did actually appear to be listening.

“People who buy children aren’t going to want to tell us what we need to know. Even if selling and buying slaves happens every day, these children had no one to speak for them. They were left at the home to be adopted, not to line someone’s pockets.” Nick had a kernel of an idea. “If we can find the children who were sold, starting with Martha, we can build a case against those who betrayed their trust.”

Layton studied him. “You’re suggesting the children who were sold bear witness against adults?”

“Yes.” Nick looked at Winnie and she nodded. “Children should have a say.”

“Legally, they don’t have a say until they’re eighteen.”

“Then we need to speak for them. We won’t know what they need to say unless we talk to them.” Winnie got to her feet. “I think it’s an excellent idea. If Mr. Fuller can help us track down the children, we will find out who did the selling and stop them.”

“I won’t be able to arrest anyone based upon the word of a child.” Layton, always not helpful, had to share his opinion.

Nick wanted to shout in frustration. “We can’t do nothing.”

“I didn’t say we wouldn’t do anything.” Layton seemed to be the only calm person in the room. “
I don’t think children will be the right way to go.”


You need to find who was sold and find a real home for them.” Winnie stepped over to Nick’s side. He took her arm and tucked her close to him. She shook so hard, he was surprised her teeth weren’t chattering.

“How many children were sold? Do you know?” The lawman was good at asking the hardest questions.

“We don’t know until Mr. Fuller helps us.” Nick caught the older man’s gaze. “I know you’re feeling poorly, sir, but we can’t do this without your help.”

Fuller’s chin tilted up. “
Until the breath leaves my body, I will do everything I can for the children.”

“How about you, Layton?” Nick wasn’t expecting much help from that quarter.

The lawman studied all three of them before he spoke. “I reckon y’all won’t stop until you get what you want. No doubt you’ll make my job harder when I have to arrest you for doing something stupid.”

“I expect so.” Nick wasn’t about to let Winnie down and he would help her get Martha back, no matter
what.

“Then I’ll agree to be part of this if you all agree you won’t break any laws. I don’t like the thought of people selling orphans.
It ain’t right and I sure as hell don’t want that happening in my town.” The lawman stood up and put his hands on his hips. He didn’t show much emotion but Nick sensed Layton was genuine in his intentions. Orphans didn’t deserve to become slaves—they deserved a home.

“Let’s get to work.” Mr. Fuller looked more alive than he had the entire time they had been in his presence. His watery gray eyes sparkled and his skin had a pinkish tinge. “Hettie!”

This time when the housekeeper came in, she stared at her employer as though he’d sprouted wings. “Mr. Fuller?”

“The records I had you pack away in the attic. We need them now.” Mr. Fuller looked to Nick and Winnie. “Perhaps you young folks can help her bring them down.”

“Winnie can stay here. I’ll help Miss Hettie.” Nick didn’t want Winnie traipsing around in the man’s attic, no matter if he was helping or not. Winnie was Nick’s responsibility and the upstairs of the house was unknown. Once a murderer committed the act, they could and might do it again.

“Perhaps I can make us some coffee?” Winnie waited for either Mr. Fuller or Hettie to
tell her which direction the kitchen was in.

“Coffee’s ready. I’ll bring it in and then go up to get the records.” The housekeeper eyed Nick as though he would ravish her upstairs.

“He’s all bluster, Miss Hettie,” Winnie assured her. “I sincerely appreciate your help with everything.” The woman had the ability to make everyone, and anyone, feel good. Her beautiful blue eyes could hold a myriad of emotions. Now he saw gratitude, but he also saw the ghost of worry and anxiety. She wanted to march to Conklin’s store and demand her daughter and not doing so was tearing her up.

Nick waited impatiently while Hettie retrieved the tray of coffee. He plucked it from her hands, silently wondering why people used fancy silver coffee pots, and then set it on the table by the fireplace. “Now we can go get what we need. Daylight’s burning.”

Hettie sniffed her disapproval but she headed up the stairs and Nick followed. The sooner they unraveled the mystery, the sooner Winnie’s worries would be over. After that, well, he might have a family of his own, ready made, and not what he was expecting, but he knew family was not always about blood.

It was about love.

Chapter Nine

 

 

Winnie poured the coffee but her mind was upstairs with Nick. What would the records show? She had heard of Fuller’s Home for years but hadn’t been close enough to understand what the orphanage was all about. Other than the obvious task to watch over the orphans of course.

Mr. Fuller’s burst of energy had started to wane. He watched Winnie with significant sadness in his gaze while Layton had his usual shuttered expression. The three of them sipped their coffee and sat in awkward silence while they waited for Nick and Hettie to return.

It seemed like hours but it was probably less than ten minutes
before the pair came back with a crate full of papers. Winnie jumped to her feet and cleared the coffee service and put everything on the tray. Hettie took it from her and left the room, grumbling under her breath.

“Now, let’s get to sorting.” Mr. Fuller tried to lean forward but his weak body failed to function. He grunted and tried again. Winnie resisted the urge to look away from his struggle.

“Please, let me help.” She took his arm and steadied him. His bones were birdlike, fragile beneath her touch. She pulled gently until he was able to sit at the edge of the chair.

“I remember when I could run for a mile without losing my breath.” The older man
was flushed from the effort expended to sit. “Now I can barely use the privy without assistance.”

Winnie
sympathized with the man. She had depended on others while she convalesced from the gunshot wound. It was an awful experience she didn’t want to ever repeat.

“All we need here is your memory and your records. No need to feel uncomfortable.” Winnie took a pillow from the settee and put it behind his back until Mr. Fuller was able to sit up without discomfort.

Layton watched them with a bored expression and Nicholas an annoyed one.

“Are we ready to get started here?” Her lover reached for the crate and pulled out the first ledger book.

For the next two hours, they combed through the records. The home’s manager had been meticulous in his details. The four of them worked through more than ten years of orphans until they reached two years ago and the home had closed its books.

Winnie
double-checked the information several times before she set the writing quill down. She blew on the still wet ink and examined the list.

“In the last three years of operation, there were twenty-seven children who disappeared from the records with no information as to who adopted them.” Winnie would memorize their names, these faceless victims of greed. They deserved that much and more.

“Not enough to cause suspicion, but plenty to line someone’s pockets.” Layton had been surprisingly helpful as they reviewed the ledgers and papers.

“I can’t believe it. I see the information, but I still cannot believe it happened under my nose.” Mr. Fuller had paled with twin spots of color
in his cheeks. No one could fake the level of distress he exhibited.

“Now that we know which children were sold, how do we find out who sold them and who bought them?” Nicholas had been quiet while they worked, watching and listening.

Layton shrugged. “I think most of them are gone and we won’t find much. No one reported them missing—”

“Well I am reporting them missing!” Fuller shouted. “They were entrusted into my care and the people who worked for me
betrayed
that trust.”

“We won’t find them. Not without a lot of money.” Layton looked around the room. “And I suspect that money is in short supply
for many of us.”

Winnie couldn’t argue with the lawman
. Things in Texas were not as good as they were or could be. She’d heard rumors the Republic was going to be annexed by the United States and no longer an independent nation. She fought against the idea, but knew things could not proceed as they had been. Whoever had sold the children had done so out of greed, but probably also to survive.

“Then what do we do? I can’t leave Martha to her fate at Conklin’s hands.” Winnie wanted to do more than just help one child.

“We get our daughter back.” Nicholas crossed his arms.

“Legally, of course.” Layton smiled but it held no warmth. “You Grahams have enough trouble sniffing at your heels
without adding to it by kidnapping a child.”

Again Layton
made a good argument for staying within the bounds of the law. That didn’t mean Winnie had to like it.

“How do you suggest we proceed? Legally, of course.” Winnie heard the annoyance in her voice, but she didn’t mask it.

Layton lifted one brow. “Do you have legal proof this is your daughter?”

“In a fashion, yes.” She would need Ruby and Josie’s help.

“Then get it in writing, solid proof, not just hearsay by a hooker and a madam.” Layton held up his hand to forestall the words dancing behind her teeth. “Now if Mr. Fuller can corroborate her origin, that’s something else.”

“What about the children who were sold? Can’t we simply bring charges against Miss Gregson and flush out her accomplice?” Winnie refused to believe they had no options.

“The only proof we have are records from an orphanage that closed two years ago. If you bring this in front of a judge, he’ll laugh at your so-called evidence before he tosses you out of his court.” Layton spoke without emotion. “Your option here is to appeal to what Conklin covets more than slaves.”

Nicholas made a face. “
What’s that?”


His own ass. You offer to adopt the girl and tell him he won’t go to jail. He might agree to it. I can’t arrest him but you may be able to convince him I will. You two have quite a history of convincing people things are true.” Layton got to his feet.

Winnie had to admit the lawman had a good idea. If she could threaten Conklin with jail, he might give her up. It was going to take a great deal of courage, but she was willing to try.

“Where are you going?” Mr. Fuller scowled.

“To do my job.
I’ll start investigating the Fritzes. If you find anything else that would prove these young’uns were sold illegally, you send word.” With that the lawman left the house, leaving behind an awkward silence broken only by the tired ticking of a clock somewhere in the dusty house.

Winnie fought against the fatalistic attitude he’d left behind. “There has to be more we can do.”

“You’re damn right there is. I might not have the money I had but I still have social status and friends in society who can help.” Mr. Fuller thrust up his chin. “My brother-in-law is an attorney. I will send for him and we will get Martha back. He can draw up adoption papers that cover the man not going to jail. It might convince him.”

“I’m a rancher, Mr. Fuller. I don’t know anything about lawyers or judges or courts. Tell me what I can do. My hands are restless.” Nicholas flexed his hands
as if to demonstrate his frustration at not doing something to help.

“Let me write a missive and you can deliver it to my brother-in-law.” The older man looked at Winnie. “Perhaps you can help me by storing the records in the crate and adding more detail to the information we have.”

Winnie was more than happy to help sort through the piles and put everything into some semblance of order. She kept her eye on the older man as he wrote a quick note. He could barely blow on the ink to dry it so she took the paper, made sure it was dry and handed it to Nick. He kissed her hard and looked into her eyes for a few moments before he nodded to Mr. Fuller and left the house.

She stared after him, wondering how her life had been turned upside down since she’d met him. No matter the outcome, she couldn’t regret a moment of it.

“You love him.” Fuller didn’t ask a question, but stated a fact.

“Yes, I do.” It was easy for her to admit. Too easy.

“It’s good for a wife to love her husband and vice versa. I loved my wife very much.” He looked off into a memory only he could see.

She gave him room to grieve and finished gathering up all the ledgers and papers. She organized them by year and
month. She lingered over the ledger from May of 1835. Winnie couldn’t stop herself from opening the book again. She ran her finger down the column until she reached “baby girl” from May 1, with Josie Fleming as the person who turned her over, now faded from the ink rubbing on the facing page.

She traced the
note with her fingernail until emotions clogged her throat. Such a small entry for such a huge event in Winnie’s life.

“Mr. Fuller, I would like to do something for the orphans.”

He looked at her with a question in his eyes. “You already are.”

“No, something more. I gave up my daughter and I’ve suffered every day since. The seven years she lived within your orphanage were happy ones for her.” She paused and gathered her thoughts. The boardinghouse had been her crowning achievement. The accumulation of wealth and self-worth was tied to the house. She had bargained her way into buying it from the older woman who didn’t want it after her sister had passed. Winnie had shed blood, sweat and tears to fix it up and make it into a thriving business.

It was all she had.

Until a fateful day a few month’s earlier when she’d met a man named Nicholas Graham and her life had utterly changed. Now she knew what she’d shunned, what she’d ignored and left behind, meant more than what she held in her hands.

“I can offer you the deed to my boardinghouse to be the new Fuller’s Home.” She glanced up at his face, pleased to see he was surprised.

“I couldn’t possibly accept.”

“You can and you will. I’m sure you have good people who can help you run it. I’d like to call it Fuller’s, of course.” She smiled, knowing this was the right choice. “When I get Martha back, I will spend the rest of my life making up the time I’ve lost. I’m going to start by giving other orphans the home they need.”

“Are you certain, my dear?” Mr. Fuller frowned.

Winnie didn’t hesitate for even a second. She might lose her home but she would be gaining her family. She knew a moment of peace. It was the right thing and she had no regrets.

“Absolutely certain. I
cannot imagine a better use for it.” Another glance at the ledger and a thought slammed into her with the force of a punch. “There is no record of the Conklin’s taking her.”

“Correct.”

“There are no records of any of the other twenty-six children who came but never left the home by legal adoptions.” Winnie closed the ledger and looked at him. “There must be another ledger somewhere. No one continues to sell children without keeping track of the funds coming in.”

Mr. Fuller raised his brows. “I suppose that’s true. If this became a business, then they would record transactions.”

“If we find that ledger, we find whomever has been selling these children. We have a weapon to use against Mr. Conklin and the rest of the people who bought those young souls.” Winnie didn’t know what she might find, but she knew where to start looking.

Hats Incredible.

 

Nick returned to Fuller’s rundown house in less than thirty minutes. The brother-in-law’s housekeeper took the note and Nick assumed there would be some sort of response, but he wasn’t going to wait around for it. The whole situation made his neck itch and he wanted to be with Winnie. She grounded him.

He knocked on Fuller’s door and, to his surprise, Winnie opened it. She stepped out with a flushed face and determination in her eye.

“I have
so much to tell you. I have a theory and we need to get to the hat store to see if I can prove it.” Winnie walked to her horse with more speed than necessary and waited, tapping her foot, for him to follow and help her mount the mare. “A ledger, Nicholas. There has to be a ledger of sales. I think Miss Gregson was the leader of this merry band of child sellers. She would have the ledger and I’m betting she left it behind at her store.”

He helped her onto the horse and put his hand on her warm thigh, absurdly pleased by the feel of her leg beneath his fingers. “
The ledger tells us what?”

“It tells us who she sold the children to and how much she was paid.” Winnie smiled at him and his heart performed a somersault. “It’s proof of her perfidy and a map to finding the rest of the lost children.”

Nick had often wondered why his sister and brother-in-law had spent four years tracking down missing children. It was frustrating, hard work with little to nothing to show for it. Yet they persisted and only stopped when Olivia got pregnant. Staring into Winnie’s beautiful blue eyes, Nick understood it. Every last impulse and moment was because of love, because a child deserved the love of its mother.

And Winnie deserved to love her daughter.

“Let’s go look at those ugly hats again.”

She grinned and he found himself grinning back.

“I decided to give Mr. Fuller the boardinghouse for a new orphanage,” she blurted. “I can stay on and help if he needs me.”

His brows went up. “I uh, that’s an incredible idea. Are you sure? You won’t have a home
of your own.”

“Home is family
, not a place.”

BOOK: The Circle Eight: Nicholas
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