Chapter Sixteen
“IDON’T KNOW HOW LONGI can keep Charles talking about advertising,” Stuart said as he and Norah walked toward Guelph’s the next day.
“Perhaps you can pose something unbelievable—going in together on advertising or something like that. Anything to keep him talking and give me enough time to sort through their old receipts.” Norah looked more determined than Stuart had ever seen her.
And he decided that was something he liked very much about her. She wasn’t one to give in easily. And she was more loyal than any man he’d ever met. She would do anything and everything to have Jeremy released from prison.
“All right,” Stuart replied. “I’ll try and persuade him to join me at the diner. That should give you plenty of time.”
They turned the corner, and Guelph’s came into view—along with Nate, who was hurrying along the sidewalk as if being chased by ghosts.
Stuart paused, Norah at his side, as he watched his friend. Nate was one who took things slowly. Who thought before speaking, and who always allowed himself plenty of time to arrive when expected somewhere. Rushing along the street was not normal for Nate.
Which meant there was a problem.
Praying it was not Ruthann, Stuart started forward again. “Something’s wrong.” He spoke quietly so only Norah could hear.
She looked up at him in alarm, but before he could say anything else, Nate had reached them.
“You need to come with me, both of you,” he said in a low voice. “Right now.”
Stuart didn’t hesitate. He and Norah fell into step beside Nate as he led them back the way they’d come—toward his studio and second floor home.
“What happened? Is it Ruthann?” A hundred scenarios rushed through Stuart’s head, each one worse than the last.
Nate shook his head, and Stuart exhaled in relief.
“Then what is it?” Norah asked, her face troubled.
Nate gave them both a look that clearly said he wouldn’t speak about it. Thankfully, it wasn’t far to the photography studio, else Stuart’s imagination would have concocted six fires, a gang of outlaws, and a band of renegade Indians all descending upon the studio’s door.
Once they were safely inside with the door shut and locked behind them, Nate led the way to the rear of the room. The curtains on the windows were shut, which was odd for this time of day. After all, Nate’s photographs were better with ample light.
But when a figure stepped out from inside Nate’s darkroom, Stuart knew why the door was locked and the windows were shut.
“Jeremy.” Norah breathed his name, throwing a hand over her mouth before bursting forward and embracing him in a bone-crushing hug.
