“Who is ‘they’?”
She folded her arms across her chest and refused to answer.
“I don’t want to argue about this, but there are rules,” he said. “Lines of authority and reporting. The government can’t operate if the left hand doesn’t know what the right hand is doing. I have to report all this to Wilkie.”
“Do what you think best,” she replied lightly.
She was always so poised. So perfect and ladylike, even in the most trying of times. Another weight settled on his chest. He’drun across town to provide comfort but ended up badgering her over Luke instead.
“I’m sorry about Mrs. McKinley,” he said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “It goes without saying, but you didn’t deserve what happened.”
She turned her face into his palm, pressing a kiss to it. “I’ll survive.”
Of that he had no doubt.
They held each other as the moon rose high. In a way, they had never been more free to be together, but in the past they had always been on the same side, united in their mission to keep the president and the White House in order.
Now he feared they might be heading in opposite directions.
It was after midnight before he returned to the men’s dormitory in the White House. He was the only one still awake as he lay flat in bed, staring at the exposed beams of the ceiling. Sleeplessness was nothing new to him. He hadn’t slept more than a few hours since McKinley was shot, but tonight was especially challenging as waves of euphoria battled old demons and worries about the future. He was honor-bound to report what he’d learned, for rogue investigations and spy rings couldn’t be allowed to take root within the government.
Nathaniel placed a telephone call to Wilkie first thing in the morning and was ordered to report to the director’s office at nine o’clock. He was still planning how best to reveal what he knew without placing Caroline’s brother in jeopardy as he entered Wilkie’s office.
Instead of questioning him about Luke Delacroix’s unexpected arrival, Wilkie crossed the room with an expression of rapt anticipation on his face. “What do you make ofthat?” he asked, holding a five-dollar bill inches from Nathaniel’s face.
Nathaniel scrutinized the bill, noting the quality of the engraving,the shade of ink, the tiny cotton and linen threads in the paper. He held it up to the light, and his mouth went dry, his heart started pounding. A surge of excitement flared to life, for he’d just spotted his old nemesis. The bill was a brilliant forgery, but he’d know the work of the Kestrel Gang anywhere.
“They’re back in action,” he said.
Wilkie nodded. “And I want you to find them. That bill turned up in Milwaukee last week. I’m moving you back onto the case. I want you to nail them to the wall this time.”
Nathaniel nodded. It was what he wanted too, but he was torn in too many directions. Caroline. Milwaukee. The simmering problem with Luke. The burning desire to shake free of the strangling lassitude that had been choking him. It was time to strike out and conquer once again, to test his skill against a worthy opponent and win. He would relay what he knew about Luke and turn it over to Wilkie ...but his hand curled around the five-dollar bill in anticipation. It was only a tiny slip of paper, but hunting down its source could be the key to his healing.
“What do you need me to do?” he asked.
Thirty-Four
For a fleeting moment when Caroline awoke the next morning, she feared the past twelve hours had been a dream. But she lay in her childhood bedroom instead of the White House dormitory. She heard Luke humming down the hall, and Nathaniel’s kestrel tie clip was on her bedside table, so it was all true.
She closed her eyes to murmur a prayer of thanks. As said in Proverbs, she must learn to trust in the Lord rather than her own understanding. Life was unfolding according to plan, and gratitude filled her heart.
Luke was down the hall, and she tugged on a robe to seek him out. The humming came from the room shared by their butler and his wife. The door was open, and she peeked inside, wincing at the sight of Luke’s ghastly bare back. His ribs, spine, and shoulder blades were all prominent beneath his skin.
“What are you doing in here?” she asked as he rummaged through the closet.
“Looking for something to wear,” he replied. “None of my clothes fit anymore, but Mr. Holder is a lot smaller than me.”
Or at least, he had been. The butler’s shirt hung on Luke’s bony frame, and the pants needed a pair of suspenders to holdthem up. It would have to do, for they were both eager to get to Philip’s office to start planning their next steps.
“I need to warn you that Nathaniel plans to tell John Wilkie about your return,” she said as she clipped the suspenders to the back of his trousers. “He seemed a little miffed that unauthorized investigations were being carried out and the Secret Service didn’t know about them.”
“Rule-follower,” Luke grumbled.
“He’s very straitlaced,” she defended. “I rather like that about him.”
Nathaniel’s famously upright comportment might not mesh well with her daredevil brother, but she couldn’t worry about that today. Luke was champing at the bit to get to Philip’s office.
“I can’t believe Philip is at the center of this whole mess,” she said as she helped Luke into a jacket. “For the past year I’ve sat in his office to cry and bemoan your fate, and he never breathed a word.”
