One of Call’s eyebrows kicked up as he regarded the pink creeping into Laurel’s cheeks. He pretended to give the cook’s suggestion serious consideration. “That might’ve done the trick,” he said.
Laurel’s mouth flattened in disapproval.
“Guess not,” Call said to Mrs. Lancaster. “She didn’t care for your idea. In her defense, I can’t say that I would have been receptive.”
Mrs. Lancaster stopped blacking the stovetop long enough to look at Call over her shoulder. “Why’s that? What’s wrong with you?”
“Not a thing. We had a little setback.”
“Well, set it back to right.” Confident that she had the final word on the matter, Mrs. Lancaster returned to her work.
Call grinned at Laurel, who was looking fit to be tied. He saw her open her mouth as if she intended to retort, and he gave her a quick shake of his head. Better to let it rest for now because there was no chance that the cook would not continue to weigh in with her opinion.
“Excellent soup,” he told Mrs. Lancaster. “And I don’t know that I’ve ever had better dumplings.”
“You haven’t,” Mrs. Lancaster said, perfectly certain she spoke the truth.
“Do you have time to answer some questions that would help me with my investigation?”
“I do if you don’t mind my back to you. I’ve neglected this stove for too many evenings.”
“Whatever you like,” he said. “I already asked Laurel for names of men from Falls Hollow who served on either side during the war. I thought you might be able to add to her list.”
“Names, eh? Am I right that you don’t want names of the men who didn’t come back?”
“Yes. Only the men who returned.”
The first five names the cook rattled off were all among those Laurel had given him. Then she mentioned Jack Friendly. Call knew he’d heard the name somewhere then he remembered that Jack was one of the men Laurel had considered taking to her bed if he hadn’t been willing.
“Right,” said Laurel. “I forgot about Jack. Should you be writing these down, Mr. Landry?”
“I will.” He tapped his temple. “I have them right here for now.”
Mrs. Lancaster ticked off three more names and repeated the same rumor Laurel had about the undertaker. “That’s all I can recollect. There were days and months it seemed as if most all of the men were gone.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Hard times.”
“Indeed,” he said quietly. “Thank you, Mrs. Lancaster. You’ve been helpful.”
“May I ask what all this was in aid of? I know you said it was for your investigation but in what way?”
“I’m afraid I can’t speak to that.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” she said, taking his answer in stride. “Thought I should ask anyway.”
Call got up from the table and went over to the stove. He put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Thank you,” he said again. “I mean it.”
“Ah, go on with you.” She blinked rapidly and pointed to the stockpot. “There’s plenty more soup. Help yourself.”
Chuckling, he produced his bowl from behind his back and helped himself.
***
Dr. Singer left the station on the afternoon stage carrying correspondence from Call for Mr. Stonechurch. Call communicated his latest findings in terms that were cautiously optimistic in regard to identifying the remaining person or persons involved in the robbery. He was less confident about recovering the payroll. Given the fact that he and Laurel had located pieces of it at the falls, it was already impossible that all of it could be reclaimed.
Call found Laurel in her office poring over the accounts. Her spectacles were resting on the tip of her nose, and she had one pencil in her fingertips and another poking out of the knot of hair at the back of her head. Her lips moved ever so slightly as she added numbers on the page. He was loath to disturb her and he waited until she wrotedown a sum and finally turned to acknowledge his presence. Her eyebrows lifted in question.
“I’m going to visit Mrs. Booker at the mercantile and ask her who might have been passing ten-dollar legal tender notes. Is there anything I can get for you while I’m there?”
“Not that I can think of. Do you need the note I found yesterday?”
