I couldn’t meet his eyes, so I shrugged. “If it means protecting Father and Mother, then yes.”
“Well, you don’t want to go where Thomas is right now.”
I looked up quickly, frowning. “Why not?”
He shook his head and turned slightly away in frustration, as if he’d said too much.
“Where is he, Lewis?” I took a step closer to him. “I’m his sister. I should know where he’s at.”
“Oh, really?” He looked down at me, a playful gleam in his eyes. “We’re not kids anymore, Carrie. He’s a grown man, and he has a right to his privacy.”
“I need to talk to him, and I don’t know when I can get away next.” I tried to convey how serious I was. “Please, Lewis. This might not be important to you, but it’s very important to me. If Alice does something to hurt Mother or Father, I couldn’t live with myself.”
I knew using Mother and Father would weaken his defenses. He sighed again. “It’s not that I can’t tell you. It’s that you don’t want to know.”
“I don’t think there’s much you can tell me that I don’t know about my brother.” I whispered, “I—I know he’s a crooked cop.”
“Almost every cop in Saint Paul is crooked.” Lewis’s voice was filled with disgust.
“Are you crooked?”
He studied me for a second. “What if I said I was?”
I lifted my chin, anger and pain thumping in my chest. Thoughts of my brothers and Marcus coming to the forefront. “I’d tell you that I’m tired of deceitful, disrespectful, selfish men.”
A half smile tilted up his lips, and I realized he was teasing me again. “Then I won’t say it.”
Frustration made me walk away from Lewis. I was tired of playing games, of being told I wasn’t capable of taking my life into my own hands. In 1727, I had finally left my grandfather’s expectations behind and done something for myself. In 1927, I was ready to do the same.
I didn’t want Lewis to determine what I should and shouldn’t know about my brother.
“Carrie,” he said as he jogged to catch up to me before I exited the courthouse. He put his hand on my arm. “I’m sorry.”
“I need to speak to my brother.” I ignored his apology, my voice betraying the depth of my irritation. “I didn’t come all the way down here for you to tell me I’m too innocent or naïve or weak to deal with reality.”
“I didn’t say any of those things about you. I think you’re one of the strongest women I know.” He shrugged. “You might be naïve and innocent, but that’s what I like most about you. It’s hard to come by nowadays, especially in my profession.”
I pulled away from his hold, tired of him mocking me, and pushed open the front door.
The heat was unbearable as I stepped outside, like opening an oven door.
“I’m not going to keep chasing you,” he said as he caught up to me again.
“And I’m not going to put up with you treating me like a child.”
He put both his hands on my arms to still me. “I’m not trying to treat you like a child. I’m trying to protect you.”
“I should be the judge about whether or not I need protection.” I disentangled my arms.
“Fine.” He crossed his arms again, almost angry. “He’s at Nina Clifford’s brothel.”
I paused, horrified. “Are you teasing me again?”
“I wouldn’t tease about something like this.”
“Is he there as a police officer? Is there a raid?”
“Nina’s house is the most protected business in Saint Paul.” He stared at me, as if challenging me. “She pays a steep fee to keep the police out of her place—unless they are paying customers.”
