Abraham checked his watch. Five thirty. It was time to return to the station and discover if he’d spared Miss Pelton a future as an inmate and himself as a walking target for the Deer Creek Gang.
CHAPTER5
IFLYDIA EVER NEEDED TOdescribe the sensation of being smothered by a pillow, she could do so now. The stupid thing was plastered to her face thanks to the stinky goop Papa had slathered on her hives. She peeled the material from her face and gaped at the slant of evening light through the bedroom window. The tonic Papa gave her must have sedated her for a good eight hours. Maybe more. She squinted at the clock on the side table, but her muddled brain couldn’t shake the medicine-induced fog.
She swung into a sitting position, and for a moment the world swam.
“It’s about time you woke up.” Her younger sister, Madelyn, twisted in her desk chair. “Dinner should be ready soon, and I have no intention of taking another meal here. It isn’t fair that I be punished just because you stole a goat from the circus.”
“I think it’s the perfect punishment for always being such a tattler. If you weren’t so good at it, maybe Papa wouldn’t assign you as my warden.”
“Better me than Colonel Plane. You slept through his explosion of temper when he arrived to claim Theresa. I’d say she won’t be easily escaping her wardens anytime soon.”
“Are you implying that I’ll be able to escape you easily?”
Madelyn rolled her eyes and returned to whatever she worked on at her desk.
Not that Lydia planned on escaping through the window like Theresa would. Heights terrified her. No, she would honor Papa and endure her punishment quietly.
Despite the seriousness of her crime, Papa’s disappointment in her hadn’t been as bad as she’d expected. Yes, he’d called her and Theresa foolish and reprimanded her for not being a leader in the friendship and putting a stop to the escapade. But his fear for her well-being far exceeded his concern for his reputation as a coroner or the repercussions of her crime. Even though he said it was only right that she and Theresa faced them—and Lydia agreed—he planned to hire a good lawyer who could obtain a favorable plea deal without the case going to trial. They would get past this, and he was certain she would learn from her mistake and make better choices in the future.
She hadn’t the heart to tell him there were other potential disasters awaiting her. Maybe if she delayed, this whole Dupin-murder-suspect thing would go away without her ever telling him about her pseudonym. The police were too smart to pursue only one suspect who could have nothing more than a tenuous connection to the crime.
The bedroom door opened, and Momma stalked inside. “Good, you’re up. I cannot believe what your father told me at breakfast. You are a Pelton, young lady. How could you jeopardize our family’s reputation for something so foolish as stealing a goat?” She folded her arms and scowled. “You are going to attend every church service and event from now until the end of the year without one excuse. No writing deadlines. No illness. Nothing. You will prove to our congregation that you are a repentant young woman and model Christian.”
She should have known that Momma would react more fiercely to her arrest than Papa. Momma couldn’t really enforce Lydia’s church attendance, but she well knew how to wield the honor-thy-father-and-mother verse to her advantage. Not that Lydia minded services, and as long as she worked at a steady pace, she’d meet next month’s deadline with no trouble.
“Yes, Momma. I promise to do better by you from here on out.”
“Maybe when it comes to criminal behavior, but I know you too well, my dear. Your dramatics belong on a stage.” Momma’s sternness softened, and she flaked off a piece of dried goop from Lydia’s face. “You’re lucky it was only hives.” She shook her head. “Get ready for dinner. Your father should be home shortly.”
Madelyn beat her to the bathroom and smirked. “You look like the bride Frankenstein’s monster demanded.”
“Let me go in. You can use the basin in your room to wash up. I need the bath.”
“Fine. I guess you should enjoy your last chance for hot water. I hear they don’t have that in prison.” She stepped aside, thoroughly pleased with herself. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to box up your things neatly before moving into your room.”
“You really don’t care, do you?”
“Oh please. It’s your first offense and you’re a woman. You’ll probably just have to pay a fine or something. I’d have better luck getting your room if I played matchmaker and married you off.”
Lydia slammed the door on Madelyn’s smug face.Sisters.
After a quick bath and a change into fresh clothes, Lydia hurried downstairs. She’d grab the newspaper from the porch, then join her family at the table.
But when she unrolled the newspaper, bold letters stretching the width of the page screamed at her.
FOURMURDERS, E. A. DUPINSUSPECTED
Nausea swept over her, and she sagged against the doorframe.
Four murders? And Dupin was the suspect for every one? But how could they possibly suspect someone who didn’t exist?
She stepped inside the foyer and devoured every word of the article.
All four victims were from cases that had inspired her Detective Billy Poe novels. More than inspired. She’d researched and studied each victim’s case with a fervor that allowed her to create stories that were unmistakably fictionalized versions of their crimes. She’d even dragged Theresa, Nora, and Flossie with her to the various locations of the crimes just so she could get the tiniest details correct.
Now her stories were being brought to life—or rather, death—by someone professing to be her Detective Billy Poe. That someone, the paper claimed, was E. A. Dupin. Who else would be so passionate as to have each man’s real-life death mimic their fictional one? But the newspaper missed one very important fact. Never once had the criminals died at the hands of Detective Billy Poe. He was always grieved by their deaths and attributed them to God’s hand of justice. Her stomach churned as she reread the full-page article.
