Caroline was soon strategizing ways that Luke’s scheme could generate even bigger waves. “The scuttlebutt is that the Magruders just landed a huge contract to sell canned food to the military. If any of this slop is being sold to the army, I’m sure the War Department will want to know.”
Gray was instantly alert. “Can you get a copy of the contract?”
“Of course. The army is required to disclose large expenditures with a private company.”
Gray smiled, for Luke’s plan was gaining momentum by the hour. He outlined Luke’s strategy to contact newspapers and restaurant critics, anyone with influence in the food trade. They wanted to drum up as much news as possible.
Caroline smoothed a freshly gummed label over a jar. “I think you’re missing a big piece of the equation,” she said. “Women do most of the shopping in this country, and you need to reach out to them directly.Good Housekeepinghas been writing about adulterated food for years.”
That wasn’t at all the sort of publication he had in mind, but he supposed it couldn’t hurt. “I’ll send them a jar.”
“You need to do more than that,” Caroline said. “The magazine is already working with the Department of Agriculture to spread the word about dangerous food additives. They are your natural ally.”
“I have no interest in partnering with the Department of Agriculture,” he said shortly. Zero. None. Ever. Annabelle had betrayed him for a job at that department, and the whole purpose of publicizing the Magruders’ malfeasance through the press was to avoid government interference.
“Gray, the Department of Agriculture is already ten steps ahead of you in trying to sound the alarm about adulterated food. Why don’t you cooperate with them? This is for Luke, and you need to swallow your distaste for that person from Kansas if it means helping this plan succeed.”
“Forget it, Caroline.”
IfGood Housekeepingwas walking in lockstep behind the bureaucrats in the government, he intended to keep his distance. He would carry out Luke’s mission by meeting with scientists, businessmen, and newspaper reporters. Those were the men who shaped opinion in this country. Caroline might know Washington politics, but he knew business, and he didn’t need her help in this matter.
Annabelle’s odds of getting Gray to accept the rice-collecting assignment were slim, but there would be no shame if she failed to recruit him to a noble cause. The only shame would be if she didn’t try.
Just as Mr. Fairchild had said, the mercantile warehouses in Alexandria were blanketed with announcements about the availability of cargo space on thePelican, complete with a list of the ports the ship would stop at on the journey to Madagascar.The notices directed interested merchants to the customs house at the Port of Alexandria.
Annabelle set off for the customs house, clutching the wooden box of two dozen glass vials. This might be a fool’s errand, but she had to try. If nothing else, she wanted to see Gray again. Any ocean voyage was dangerous, and his health had already taken a beating from tropical diseases. She didn’t want the koi pond to be the last time they saw each other on this earth.
The clerk at the customs house was brusque as he informed her where Gray could be found. “ThePelicanis in the first berth on the third quay, right behind the shipment of dunnage. Watch out for the bollard lines.”
He shoved back from the counter and disappeared into a storage room while she tried to process the terms he’d just flung at her. She might be a hayseed from Kansas, but she could still read, and the ships all had names on their side. She’d find it.
If she wasn’t so anxious, she’d enjoy watching the cranes lifting cargo onto the various ships harbored in port. Men with leathery skin gave her curious glances as she walked along the wind-battered dock, carrying the box of vials carefully before her. Hopefully these vials would someday return to America filled with rare strains of African rice, but only if Gray was willing to cooperate.
She walked for several blocks along the docks before she spotted thePelican, a handsome ship with a black steel hull and a glossy red stripe running along the top deck. She was completely ignorant of ships, but surely that was a smokestack on the top, and a large room near the front had wrap-around windows on all sides—was that where the captain steered the ship?
Unlike ships on the neighboring dock, there didn’t seem to be much activity on thePelican. Could the harbormaster have been mistaken about Gray being aboard? Aside from two men swabbing the decks, the ship looked abandoned.
“Why are you here, Annabelle?”
The voice came from directly behind her, startling her so badly that she almost dropped the box of glass vials, but Gray helped save it just before it hit the ground. He returned it to her hastily, as though it burned his skin.
She recovered her composure quickly. “Hello, Gray. I never did get a chance to admire your ship. It certainly is impressive.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked again. There was no hint of softening in his iron-hard face, but she didn’t let it discourage her. She’d known this wasn’t going to be easy.
“I met David Fairchild a few days ago. Did you know he was back in the States?”
Gray folded his arms across his chest and glowered at her.
“Because I think you and he have a lot in common. He’s also very curious about all manner of useful plants and has amassed quite a collection. He brought back pistachios. Have you ever tried one?”
“You have sixty seconds to tell me what you’ve come for, and then I’m throwing you off this dock. Your clock just started.”
She lifted her chin. “Canyou throw me off this dock? Or is it like a public sidewalk where anyone has the right to stand? I came here prepared to be humble and obsequious, but you’re making it hard, Gray.”
A bit of humor flashed in his face, but it vanished quickly. “Why are you here, Annabelle?” he asked again. Wind ruffled his hair, and she longed to reach up and stroke it back from his face.
She turned the box and unlatched the lid to display the empty glass vials. “These are for rice samples,” she said. “Rumor has it you’re heading to Madagascar, and we expect they grow some unique rice cultivars. If you could collect some grains—”
