Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Alex
Rubbing his eyes, Alex sank back into the chair behind the desk, exhaustion aching deeply through his muscles.
His mother had never let him stay up all night like he had the previous night, no matter how often he’d begged her when he was caught in the middle of a particularly intriguing book or puzzle. And look—he was just fine. Tired, yes, but also invigorated.
And maybe a bit hungry.
He’d been so consumed by his work that he’d barely noticed his hunger, though, or the way time had slipped away. A few servants had come and gone, brought him tea, water, and sandwiches that mostly remained untouched on the floor beside him. They’d been in his way on the desk.
But it had been hours since he’d seen anyone, and now the house had gone strangely quiet.
He listened for a few beats then looked back at his work and grinned, setting his pencil down. Leaning over, he scooped up one of the sandwiches that looked the least wilted and sat straight, taking a bite.
I did it.
He’d solved the damned puzzle. The code.
Probably in record time.
That would be sure to impress Mr. Federline.
Not all of the articles had been coded—and that was part of the problem. He’d been forced to triple-check those. Make certain he wasn’t missing something. None of it made sense, really, but he was sure of his decoding.
Bits of phrases. Words. Some strange, others clearer:
DON’T BELIEVE FATHER
That one stood out above the others. Bothered him in a way he couldn’t quite verbalize.
I HAVE HER
That one frightened him.
Her? Who was she? Why was Gretchen Herbert sending these codes? And to whom?
It didn’t matter. It wasn’t his job to understand what the data meant—just deliver it to the people who could do something about it.
And, maybe, if he proved himself useful, the British government might find a place for him eventually.
Or maybe he could even have Mr. Federline write him a good letter of reference for a university, like Oxford, where his father had gone.
Mama had said Oxford might be out of reach for Alex. That with the economic downturn, she wasn’t certain what they’d be able to afford. Alex was confident in his ability to get a scholarship, but Papa’s lack of achievements didn’t help his case much.
And a few weeks ago—learning what he’d learned about Uncle Jack and Mama’s divorce and his own questionable legitimacy—the dream of Oxford had dimmed.
But maybe he didn’t need Mama and Papa. Maybe his legitimacy didn’t matter.
Maybe all he needed was the brain God had given him and his own grit and determination to succeed.
Alex took a bite from the sandwich, relaxing back into his chair.
He should really leave the room and go find Ivy.
She was likely to be furious with him for abandoning her all evening and morning.
But it was so beautiful here, and the servants had told him she’d gone to bed early.
She probably needed to sleep for a long time, after what they’d been through.
The sandwich wasn’t bad either, given the fact it’d been sitting there for a while.
The legs of the chair scraped back against the tiles as Alex stood, stretching his legs.
A scream pierced the silence.
Alex stood straighter, more alert now, his body tensing.
Something familiar about that scream …
If he didn’t know any better, it had come from a woman.
Ivy?
He cleared his throat, turning in the direction the sound had come from—outside, down the hall. “Hello?” he called out. The door to his room was shut, though.
Alex strode across the room toward the door, his fingers finding the cool brass of the handle. He turned, then stopped short.
The door was locked.
Why on earth would the door be locked?
The hair on his arms rose as his skin pebbled.
He knocked on the door firmly. Loudly. “Hello? Anyone there?”
Silence greeted him, making his stomach roil. He knocked again. “Hello there?”
This time, footsteps approached the door. He stepped back, his fists curling instinctively, and the door opened to reveal Mr. Federline.
“Why was my door locked?” Alex demanded, aware of the hostility in his voice despite his best efforts.
Mr. Federline gave an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry—this door gets stuck.”
Stuck? But it hadn’t felt stuck. The latch hadn’t moved. Alex peered beyond him, into the darkened hallway. “I thought I heard a scream.”
As though to offer reassurance, Mr. Federline opened the door more widely and stepped further inside.
“You did. One of my servants just found out that her brother has died of tuberculosis, you see. She’s understandably devastated.
In fact, we’ve had a visit from the health office this morning to inspect the premises, but you have nothing to fear. ”
Alex was certain the scream had been one of terror not sadness. “Where’s my sister?” he asked, keeping his voice steady
“Your sister?” Mr. Federline raised a brow.
“Yes, my sister, Ivy. I haven’t seen her since yesterday.” Alex cleared his throat, trying to keep his tone polite while alarm sneaked up his core and flushed his skin. He tried to take a step past Mr. Federline, who blocked him from going out the doorway with a gentle hand to his shoulder.
“Your sister is not here, son. The housekeeper took her into the city for some new clothes. I didn’t really have anything suitable for her here.”
Something was off. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he had the sense that Mr. Federline wasn’t being completely honest. Still, he knew better than to ask him outright. “But Ivy hates shopping,” Alex said instead. “I’m surprised she went at all.”
“Yes,” Mr. Federline said with a chuckle. “She did make that quite clear, but it was much easier to have her go and pick her wardrobe along with the housekeeper.”
Alex felt his pulse quicken, a rush of blood pounding through his ears. He’s lying. He’s lying, and I know it. Ivy would never turn down a trip to go shopping.
Alex gave him a wary smile. “Well, if you could please let me know as soon as she returns, I would appreciate it. I’m sure she’s not happy with me for missing breakfast this morning. She’s always complaining that I sleep too late.”
Mr. Federline nodded, then his gaze went to the desk. “The servants informed me that you weren’t sleeping at all though, were you? They said you were up all night working on that code.”
Alex nodded faintly. He had to own that much. “I was.”
Leaving the door open to the hallway, Mr. Federline crossed the room toward the desk and lifted the journal Alex had been working from. Then his cool blue-eyed gaze snapped toward the paper that Alex had used to work out the code. “May I?” he asked, lifting one of the papers.
Alex nodded.
If Mr. Federline was lying about Ivy, what else was he lying about?
Alex knew to be more cautious, but he didn’t have enough information to make a true judgment.
They’d met him at the consulate, which meant at the very least he was a well-connected man.
Someone even potentially dangerous. A high-level spy for the government perhaps?
As Mr. Federline scanned the paper, Alex felt suddenly naked. Ashamed. As though his efforts had laid bare something Alex should have kept hidden.
“Did you complete the assignment?”
Alex felt the urge to blurt the truth, to demand where Ivy was, but he shoved it down. Words were currency here, and he didn’t yet know their value.
He had to be careful. He had a feeling decoding those articles would keep him safe for now—and gave him something to negotiate with if Mr. Federline was more than just a liar.
“No,” he said smoothly, his throat dry. “There are still more to do. That’s all I’ve managed to decode so far.”
“And can you make sense of any of it?”
He chose his words carefully. He didn’t want to sound incompetent. “With the right context I could.”
Rubbing his temples with his fingertips, Mr. Federline sighed and leaned against the desk. “Have you ever been on an airplane, Alex? There’s something I’d love to get your opinion on. I think you could be of great assistance to me.”
An airplane?
Despite his wariness, Alex felt a nervous thrill of excitement. He’d dreamed of flying before but hadn’t ever experienced it. He didn’t want to seem too eager, though. “To where?”
“Not far. Into the desert.” The distant soft sound of voices and steps carried down the hallway, and Alex turned to glance in that direction. They seemed to come from another wing of the house.
But what about Ivy? Where was she? “Would Ivy be coming with us?”
“It’d be preferrable to leave sooner rather than later.
But we won’t be long. And if you’d like, we can take her along the next time.
” Mr. Federline smiled gently, the sort of look on his face that Alex imagined a doting grandfather might give.
He wouldn’t know for certain—both his grandfathers had died before he’d been born.
When Mr. Federline rubbed his temple again, though, Alex’s gaze narrowed in on a streak of crimson on the cuff of his shirtsleeve.
Blood.
Fresh blood, for that matter.
He’d seen enough of it at the hospital to recognize the look of it on clothing.
The world at the periphery of his vision seemed to swim.
Ivy. God, Ivy.
What had Mr. Federline done to her? The chilling scream he’d heard gnawed his memory, stirring up his deepest fears.
What have I done? What was I thinking? I was so enraptured with the idea of winning this man’s praise that I forgot myself. Forgot Ivy. His eyes burned at the thought.
He had to be rational. The man wasn’t likely to be a murderer—he had to be at least a respectable member of society to move around so freely and be so wealthy. But he certainly wasn’t honest. And if that was the case, both he and Ivy could be in terrible danger.
For now, he had to play along. Find out who this man was, if he could, and where Ivy was.
When he realized he’d barely breathed for a while, Alex managed a shaky smile. “An airplane ride sounds fantastic.”