Yuri reached over to where Rosalind’s hand rested on his arm and squeezed. Once again they were riding in a hydraulic elevator, but this time they were at District National Bank in Washington, DC.
“It won’t be gone,” he told her softly enough that the elevator attendant couldn’t overhear them.
“How do you know?” she whispered back.
He squeezed her hand again. “‘God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.’ But if we get inside that building and find that the moneyisgone, I’ll charm the banker into finding it for us. You’d be surprised what a merry heart can do.”
She shook her head, the smile falling from her face as worried lines reappeared on her forehead.
Oh, well. At least he’d gotten her to smile for a few seconds.
They’d been over this time and again. They didn’t know if the money was there, but the likelihood of it being transferredout of her name without her father going to Washington, DC, directly was slim. And the likelihood of her father beating them to Washington when he’d been stuck in a jail cell the day they’d left Sitka was even slimmer.
Rosalind might have signed a contract allowing her money to be transferred upon her marriage to Leeland, but that wedding date was months away, meaning the money should still be secure.
On their second day in DC, they’d learned that her uncle was meandering around the city, schmoozing politicians. They didn’t know why, but the likelihood that he’d be able to access her funds was even slimmer than Leeland getting ahold of them.
Though Rosalind was nervous today, she’d been disciplined and logical about her money ever since arriving. Had it been his money, Yuri would have barged through the doors of the bank the moment it opened on his first morning in town and demanded all the money be immediately transferred.
And if he’d done that, anyone wanting to follow the money would have been able to figure out exactly where it went.
Rosalind had been much smarter about things. On their first day in the city, she had set up a business and declared herself the sole proprietor, using only her first initial, then her middle name, then her new surname Amos. The owner of the Ladies Literary Society was R. Marie Amos, not Rosalind Caldwell.
Then she’d gone straight to a bank and opened up an account under the business’s name. Then she’d walked five blocks and opened another account at a second bank—this one under her full married name, Rosalind Amos. A third account followed that afternoon, this time under R. Caldwell, the name that her mother had once used for her banking and charitable contributions. Fortunately Rosalind’s mother had been named Roberta, and they shared the same first initial. The banker had asked no questions after seeing her marriage certificate, andRosalind had made sure none of the accounts could be traced to the same address.
By the end of the third day, she’d secured four separate accounts across four banks, and she’d had Yuri secure an account at one of the banks as well. She deposited only small amounts in each. They were never enough to raise suspicion, but enough that once the full sum of money she intended to transfer arrived, she could quietly redistribute the funds without triggering alarms. One account would appear to belong to a widow managing her late husband’s inheritance and interested in promoting literacy. Another to a schoolteacher saving to open a finishing school. Another to a church sewing circle.
She never went to the same bank twice in the same outfit. She wore different hats, adjusted her posture, and even took her hair down one day so it hung in a braid beneath a shawl. Once, she sent Yuri in alone while she watched from a carriage window. Another time, she wrote out instructions and stayed back at the hotel altogether. That was for the one account that they shared, but he was on the account under his middle name, too, as Y. Isaiah Amos.
His wife had thought of everything, down to the last cent.
But none of that stopped her fingers from trembling now as the elevator slowed to a stop and the attendant unlatched the gate, revealing the quiet, marble-tiled lobby of the District National Bank’s private banking floor.
Yuri reached out and squeezed her shoulder. “You did everything you could. Whatever happens next, God will help us handle it.”
“Miss Caldwell!” A balding man with a friendly smile greeted her the moment she stepped out of the elevator. “I could hardly believe it when the clerk rang up to my floor and said you were in the lobby. What a pleasant surprise!”
“Mr. Holloway. How nice to see you in person.” She extended her hand, and he bent to kiss it briefly before letting it go.
“Come into my office.” Mr. Holloway motioned for them to follow him on the short walk down the hall, then held the office door open, ushering them both inside. “I must say, your accounts have kept me busy over the last few years, with all the things you’ve invested in.”
She smiled politely at the solicitor. “You’ve done a very good job directing my money as I’ve instructed, despite my being so far away.”
“It’s been a joy to watch your assets grow, especially knowing how dedicated you are to extending the extra you earn to those in need.” The man turned to Yuri. “I assume this is your fiancé? Mr. Vandermeer?”
Rosalind bit the side of her lip and sent Mr. Holloway a nervous glance. “Actually, this is my husband, Mr. Yuri Amos.”
“Amos?” The man’s brows pinched together, but he extended a hand for Yuri to shake.
“I must have misunderstood something.” Mr. Holloway left them standing near the door and headed to his desk, where he pulled open one of the drawers and began rummaging through papers. “I thought we were preparing your assets to be transferred to a Mr. Leeland Vandermeer in Seattle? Upon the event of your marriage to him?”
“Yes, well...” Rosalind sunk her teeth into her bottom lip again.
Yuri reached out and gave her hand a little squeeze, then bent down and spoke in a low voice. “‘Fear thou not; for I am with thee.’”
Rosalind drew in a breath and straightened. “I called off that engagement and married Mr. Amos instead.”
“I see.” The man studied him a bit closer, then scratched the back of his head. “Ah, was there a particular reason that yourengagement was canceled? Mr. Dunning returned from Alaska only recently, and he seemed quite certain that there would be a wedding to Mr. Vandermeer. I’ve already begun liquidating some of your assets at his request.”
