Weak Flesh (11 page)

"A dance card. You've come to me with an old dance card, presumably one of Nell's." He paused and read the names on the card aloud. "With five, no that's six, names on the card. Congratulations, Bailey, I believe you've cracked the case."

"Don't be silly, Gage. I'll explain where I found the card in a moment. Which is much more interesting than what's written on it, at least I think so." She frowned prettily and bit her bottom lip in a familiar gesture he recognized from her childhood.

Suddenly Gage had a flash of memory.

#

Eight-year-old Meghan Bailey bawled like a new-born calf, her face pale and her nose and lips dripping snot, her dark strands of hair tangled around her shoulders and across her forehead.

"Hey, Bailey-girl," the almost-eighteen-year-old Gage said softly, picking her up off the wet lawn. "What are you doing out in this storm?"

The girl jumped in his arms as another flash of lightning preceded a clap of thunder as loud as a cannon shot. He laughed and held her tight, striding with long legs to the front porch that stretched across the ground floor of the Bailey house.

"Where's your father?" he asked.

Her teeth chattering, her clothes sopping wet, she clutched him as if she were drowning and he her lifeline. He rattled the front door knob, but found it locked and the house dark and unfriendly.

"Don't worry, Bailey-girl. I'm here to rescue you. I'll bail you out of trouble again." He laughed and gathered her small body against his chest, sank into a corner of the porch where they were somewhat sheltered from the storm.

"Shhhh, don't cry." He draped his coat around her and rocked her as he listened to the howl of the wind and the roar of the rain and waited for Dr. Bailey to return from his surgery.

#

Gage stared at Bailey. He'd forgotten that moment. Forgotten how he'd called her nothing but Bailey from that moment on. Not Meghan or Meggie, like her father, but Bailey. He'd made a huge joke of it so she wouldn't be embarrassed for crying like a baby in the storm.

Bailey because he'd bailed her out of trouble.

"Gage, are you paying attention?"

When had she ceased calling him Tucker, he wondered?

"Before I tell you about Nell's dance card," she continued, once she'd got his attention, "I want you to tell me about Michael Gage."

She gestured with her head towards the front of the Station as if Hayes still occupied his cell.

Gage stood up and closed the office door.

"Did you recognize him last night?" Gage asked after he'd sat down again. "Have you seen him before?"

Meghan frowned and tugged at the folds of her plain gray dress which hung rather shapelessly on her small frame. "I don't think so," she said in an evasive manner, "but Mrs. Carver said he was one of Nell's beaus. Is that true?"

Gage considered the wisdom of confiding in Bailey and then decided he'd already involved her in the search of Nell's bedroom. "Hayes insists he was in love with Nell and she with him."

A strange look came over Bailey's face.

"What do you know?" he asked sharply.

"Nothing." Meghan lifted her head mutinously and glared at him. "And it's a ridiculous thing for him to say, anyway. If Nell had been serious with one of her young men, she would've confided in me."

Even as she made the declaration, Gage saw doubt flit across her face. She might've thought the two of them were fast friends, but their relationship must've changed. Things always changed, in Gage's experience.

"Are you sure of that, Bailey? You were away at school for several years while Nell remained here."

"Well," she said slowly, "it is true that Nell and I haven't been as close as we once were." She bit her bottom lip. "Our waning friendship was ... sad. I suppose I didn't know her as well as I did when we were children."

Gage saw that the admission was painful to her. "Hayes seems quite taken with her and very broken up about her death," he ventured. "I think his feelings are genuine."

Bailey pounced on the words. "Do you think he might have had something to do with her death?"

"Love is a powerful emotion. If Nell didn't return his affection ..." Gage left the words dangling between them for a moment or two. "And of course, Jim Wade is equally certain that Nell was madly in love with him."

"Pshaw!" Bailey exclaimed. "That pompous little rooster of a man thinks all women are mad for him."

Gage repressed a grin. "Isn't it possible though?"

"I should hope Nell was too discriminating to be taken in by the likes of James Wade."

Gage drummed his fingers on the desk blotter and contemplated the level of Nell's sensibility. "She seemed to be fond of a great many men."

Bailey rose and strode around the office as if her small body needed additional space in which to express her thoughts. Her colorless dress flapped about her legs, occasionally showing a surprisingly trim ankle. Gage watched the seriousness of her pacing with some amusement, but remained silent.

She paused at the window, looking out so that she presented only her profile to him. "Sometimes Nell showed poor judgment, I admit."

She slanted a look at him from the corner of her eye as if expecting him to disagree. "She was flighty and whimsical – " Here she paused to fight back tears.

Gage rose and went to her, placing his hand on one shoulder, marveling at how it dwarfed her. "But Nell was your friend."

He spoke gently. "This is why you cannot assist me in the investigation, Bailey." One of the many reasons she could not be involved, he thought. "You cannot be unbiased in the matter."

She sniffled and shrugged away from him. "Still the ring is the sort of bauble a man like Wade could afford, don't you think?"

Gage watched the emotions play over her face, her brain figuring and re-configuring the possibilities. She crossed the room to look into the reception area where Henderson worked at the counter. He caught her eye and waved in a friendly manner. She smiled at him and waved back.

When she relaxed and softened that intense expression she usually wore, she looked quite pretty.

"But I could be wrong, of course," she continued, turning back to Gage, her arms crossed over her chest. "Nell so loved to be admired, you know. I am sorry to say such a thing about my friend, but you are right. She did enjoy male attention."

What an unlikely friendship they'd forged, Gage thought. Nell, impulsive and heedless of consequences. Bailey, sensible, but adventurous and almost obnoxious in her adherence to her strict moral code.

Gage envied that. His own morality had taken a hard beating years ago, and the tattered rags left of it were like the flag of a defeated nation flapping in the breeze.

"At any rate," he said, "Hayes believed they were going to be married even though his financial prospects are quite unremarkable."

"Really?"

"He's attending Chapel Hill Medical School at the largess of Dr. Whitehead, one of the instructors. Hayes' family has little money and no prestige. If not for his sponsor, he would likely end up scraping a livelihood out of farming, like his father."

"Mr. Carver would never allow Nell to become attached to a poor man," Bailey said with assurance. "He patently disapproves of any man who isn't wealthy and well established. That's probably why Nell sneaked around as she did."

Gage hesitated before divulging the next bit of information, a topic he was quite certain he had no business discussing with a young unmarried woman. Well, in for a penny, he thought. "The coroner's report shows that Nell was not, uh, not – virtuous."

Bailey's eyes grew wide and her bottom lip quavered a bit. "Are you saying she was molested?"

Gage hurried to correct the error. "No, no, not that." He coughed discreetly, unclear how to broach so indelicate a subject. After all, Bailey was naïve and untutored in many ways. Even if he thought of her as an equal with her fine mind and quick wit, he must remember that he was much older than she and more experienced in the ways of the world.

He stumbled around the words like a bloody idiot. "Nell – she – was, uh, not ... " He paused and took a sip of water.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Gage," Bailey said impatiently. "Are you trying to say that Nell was not a virgin? That she was experienced in sexual intimacies?"

Gage choked on the swallow of water. So much for Bailey's delicate sensibilities. "All right, yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. Nell was not forced. There are indications of sexual activity, but no signs of physical trauma. As you say, she was not a virgin."

"Well," Bailey murmured taking the news in. "Well, then. I'm not surprised," she added with determination in her voice.

"With Mr. Carver hovering over her, lapping around every man who presented himself to her like an old hound with a bone, you can hardly blame Nell for wanting to experience more from life."

Her voice was thick with unshed tears, and Gage believed defending her friend's propriety caused her further grief. She took a deep breath, composed herself, and continued with firm conviction. "Mr. Carver treated her like a fragile crystal, like one of those Faberge eggs her mother collects."

She waggled a finger at him, gathering steam. "I tell you, Gage, Nell was far sturdier than people made her out to be."

"Tell me more about Nell's relationship with her father."

"Why?" she asked quickly, homing in on the subtle nuances of his voice. "Nell and her father were very close. Do you think there was something amiss between them?"

"What do you think?"

She appeared to ponder the idea seriously, not at all shocked at the implication, although perhaps she did not understand the multiple meanings of the question.

"Do you understand precisely what I mean, Bailey?"

"You are suggesting that Mr. Carver had an inappropriate relationship with his oldest daughter, are you not?" Her expression was both worldly and very innocent.

"Yes."

"Let me contemplate the matter for a while," she said at last. "I shall give you my answer tomorrow."

She placed her hands on her hips and looked at him sternly. "Now, you ought to be asking me about the clue I've found in Nell's bedroom."

In the bustle of the moment, Gage had forgotten all about that. "You must tell me everything," he said, grabbing his hat and jacket, "but I am famished. Mrs. Miller serves stew today and you must join me. Come on."

He took her arm and led her out of the office, calling to the sergeant on the way down the stairs. "Mind the House, Henderson. I'll return in about an hour."

Chapter 13

He hadn't wanted to break it off with Nell. No matter what he'd told her – what she'd teased him with – he knew they were good together. He'd given her the ring to prove it.

And then, damn her treacherous hide, she'd tried to give it back to him. He'd only shown her sister attention to make Nell jealous. Susan was pretty, but kind of cold like she had an icicle for a spine.

But Nell, God, she was like one of those hot springs out West. She knew how to heat a man up.

Eventually he'd made her keep the ring.

It was meant to bind them together, to seal their confidences. Nell enjoyed confidences, secrets, little games.

She liked to taunt him with word play, to say one thing and gaze at him over a cup and saucer, her eyes sparkling, to see if he got her little joke. His mind always scurried to find the double meaning in her words.

But where was the damn ring now?

Nell knew all kinds of things about him. And she enjoyed the power that knowledge gave her. At first, he hadn't minded. She was so pliable and soft-spoken, she'd hardly seemed a problem.

But that'd changed right after Halloween.

She'd become sly, almost sneaky, making subtle threats. She ought to tell someone, she said, ought to come clean about the pictures. Tell her family, his family, maybe even the police. Is it against the law, she'd asked in that sweet young voice barbed with false innocence.

That was when he realized she'd never meant to keep their secrets. Had meant only to torment him with the understanding that she could tell at any time she wished.

This way she kept him dangling on a string, tied to her finger, because she surely didn't have a heart.

But what had she done with the goddamn ring?

#

In the end Gage and Bailey decided to enjoy a meal without the gruesome discussion of the investigation. With a full belly and a relaxed mind, he prepared to listen to Bailey's latest theory.

"Now tell me about this mysterious dance card," he said as he walked Meghan to the front porch of her house. "I'm afraid the significance of such an item is completely lost on the puny mind of a man."

She wrinkled her nose at the bad joke. "Come in, Gage." She opened the door and stepped into the foyer. "Father would love to visit a while."

Gage hesitated. He'd always thought of Bailey as a young friend, the sister he never had. They'd already stretched the limits of propriety by dining together, even though no one had been at dinner except Mrs. Miller. The other guests had long eaten and gone about their sundry business.

He must remember that Bailey was no longer the young girl who'd crawled into his lap, terrified at the howl of the hurricane storm, the clap of thunder, and the flash of lightning. She was all grown up now and a teacher to boot, a woman with a reputation to maintain in the community.

"Goodness, Gage," she snapped, "you'd think I was Salome enticing you with my dance of the seven veils. Papa would enjoy hearing about the dance card as well. I haven't spoken to him since I discovered it. Don't deny him this small pleasure."

Her argument made perfect sense and Gage always enjoyed speaking with the older man. Dr. Bailey was a fine gentleman, an excellent doctor, and a man Gage had much admired when he was a boy in Tuscarora City.