Chapter Nine Susie
“A cable! My goodness, someone is surely popular,” Mother beams at me when Dad comes in with yet another letter and a cable on top of it.
Five days of going out of my mind with boredom nearly make me forget my manners. I don’t open the letter at the table. Sam is a gentleman in all he says, but I worry that if he’s missing me as much as I’m missing him, some of that passion might slip out and alarm my folks.
Henry makes kissy noises at me, and I kick him under the table.
“It’s probably bad news,” Dad says, unsmiling. “Who in the world sends a cable on a Sunday unless it’s bad news?”
“It’s probably good news!” I say defensively. “Sam’s that kind of man. He tells me things when they happen.”
“He’s a fool, hiring a girl to be a secretary in a business like his.
I don’t like you being mixed up in it.” Dad sits down hard at the Sunday supper table, supper always being held early on Sunday nights, and always including Grandma and Grandpa Spade.
He snarls through grace, then stabs the pot roast out of the beautiful serving dish Mother set on the table.
“Now, dear, you’re forgetting. Mr. Silverman seems to think our Susie is just the little wife he’s been waiting for.”
Five days here. Three days of letters from Sam, and each one ends with a promise to write again tomorrow—and each day he delivers on that promise.
Such a show of attentiveness has brought my mother around—or she’s genuinely sick of me being back under her roof and possibly embarrassing her with my Old Maid status, and she’s desperate to be rid of me.
Either way, she’s whistling a different tune.
“What’s that got to do with it?” Dad gripes into his pearl onions.
“Why, it means that soon she’ll be his wife, not his secretary. Isn’t that right, Susie?”
“I think I’ll be both. I’d prefer it. It would be a smart savings, Mother. In this economy, I know a lot of women are helping with the family business.”
“I always helped in the back of the feed store until you came along, son,” Grandma Spade points out, passing the potatoes.
“And once you have children, dear, I’m sure you’ll be content to stay home and mind them and keep house full-time. Tell your grandparents about the bank.”
“I—”
“The Silvermans have always been in silversmithing and banking,” Mother carries on before I can get a word in.
“Open the cable! I wanna see!” Eddie hisses, grabbing at the yellowish envelope.
With a smack on his grabby fingers, I open it and heave a sigh of relief.
“Not bad news at all. Sam’s still tied up with his case, but an old army buddy of his is coming to town with important documents.
He wants me to meet him at the office and secure the files.
” I feel so grand saying that, proud of myself, and proud of Sam for all the important, dangerous work he does.
And for using words like “secure the files” in his telegram.
The whole cable was short and businesslike, probably since he knew my parents would demand to hear it, and it makes me feel like a million bucks. My brothers look impressed.
“He was in the army?”
“Important files?”
“What does he do?”
“What kind of files?”
It’s gratifying to suddenly be the center of attention because of my work, not because Mother’s put me in a new dress, or Eddie’s caught me reading another novel that Mother will despair over. “I’m afraid I can’t say much. It’s top secret.”
“What’s in the letter, then?” Eddie asks. “Is it about the papers?”
“No, the letters are romantic, full of Sam saying how much he misses me, and telling me about his work in very boring terms.” I ruffle Eddie’s hair, gratified that the mention of romance makes him pull a face.
“I was in the army, too, you know.” Dad takes one of the rolls and holds it in both hands, glaring around the table. I do believe he’s a little jealous of my Sam.
Everyone gives him their attention as he starts talking. Everyone but me.
I’m suddenly a little worried. Sam writes every day. Letters from Windsor to Yonkers take two days to arrive, it seems, so it makes sense that his last letter doesn’t say that I need to go back to Pine Ridge. He must have only just heard from his army buddy.
How?
No one knows where he is, and he mentioned in the letter that the professor and his family haven’t gotten a phone put in yet.
I suppose I’m worrying for nothing.
Sam deals with the best, most elite agencies in the world, the big men in Washington.
I’m sure they knew how to find him. Then they probably cabled.
Windsor certainly has a post office, after all, and the proof is next to my plate, and tucked into my vanity drawer along with my books and stationery.
Still. I feel uneasy in my stomach.
Why wouldn’t Sam rush down to Pine Ridge himself? Windsor is closer to Yonkers.
He can’t leave the professor and his family unguarded. Silly girl.
I discreetly look at the telegram again. The preamble says Windsor, NY, with a time of only a few hours ago. I suppose I have nothing to worry about.
But Sam always liked my gumption. He won’t mind if I double-check. Dad would yell at Mother that she was “second-guessing” him if she did such a thing. Questioning his judgment. Sam will say he likes my gumption. Likes how I dot my i’s and cross my t’s, making sure everything is truly secure.
“You’ve barely touched your roast, Susan,” Mother chides, but then she smiles. “It must be love.”
Dad groans.
“It must be love—and the fact that I need to pack and take care of a few matters. I’m not just Mr. Silverman’s secretary.
I’m like a junior partner. I’ve already helped solve one case, but I’m afraid the details are too much for Eddie’s ears,” I boast with a smirk, and dig into my food.
The faster I’m done, the faster I can pack.
The sooner morning and the bus will come, and the sooner I can stop at the Pine Ridge post office and send a wire back to Sam, making sure this is all on the up and up.
“Susie! You left like a thief in the night!” Maudie is just leaving the post office as I head in early Monday morning.
“Little brother was injured. I had to go home to help Mother,” I say, none of those statements being a total lie (thanks to Eddie and his chicken-pecking disaster). “Sam dropped me off at the bus station in the next town over.”
“Ahhh.” Maudie nods gravely. “Well, we figured you were coming back, seeing as you left all of your clothes. Loula thought you two eloped, seeing as Mr. Silverman was gone, too, and the office was shut.”
“How’d you know that?”
“Well, for one thing, some traveling salesman came by on Thursday and beat on the door until the boys in the bakery went up and hauled him down for creating a ruckus. He was screaming that some floozy and her pet gumshoe had ruined his marriage and his affair.”
“He ruined his own marriage. I just caught him at it.” I toss my hair rather proudly.
“Sam helped, of course. He had excellent leads and everything, just couldn’t get into the place to do any interrogating, like I could.
On the sly, you see.” My chest is going to burst with giddiness.
Maudie looks awestruck. I suppose sending a wire could wait a few more minutes...
“Good morning. I’m Conrad Wayne. I have files here for Mr. Silverman. Captain Silverman, I should say.”
The man who greets me is tall and blonde with a militarily sharp haircut, piercing blue eyes, and a jaw that could crack walnuts.
To say that I’m not a little flustered to have this Adonis suddenly standing over me would be a lie. I love Sam, and he’s all I’ve ever dreamed of, but my goodness. The scenery around here is sure nice.
“You are his secretary?”
“I am, thank you. I mean, won’t you come in? I mean, won’t you be seated?” I bolt up from my desk, and my stupid tongue-tiedness is back in full force, just like it was the first time I laid eyes on Sam Silverman.
“Thank you. I’d love some coffee.”
“Oh! Good. Yes. I’m so used to Mr. Silverman starting it that I clean forgot,” I say with a guilty flush, and hurry to the pot in the corner. “Mr. Wayne? Or is it Captain Wayne?”
“Lieutenant.” His smile is wide, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. I suppose it wouldn’t. He’s got important files to deliver. I’m probably holding him up.
“I suppose I need to sign for the files?” I ask.
“Yes, if Captain Silverman isn’t here.”
“He isn’t. He’s away on other business, but he sent me to meet you.”
Mr. Wayne hesitates. “That is very irregular. These papers are top secret. To be handed off only to Silverman.”
“I understand, and I’m sorry about that. I’m not sure what I can do since you’ve come all this way, and he’s not going to be back for a while.”
“How long?”
I frown. There’s a curious, clipped way of speaking that this man has, and there’s an accent under the English words he’s using that I can’t place. Something... European.
I don’t think men with European accents are lieutenants in the US Army. Sam said ‘old army buddy.’ That would mean US Army, to my way of thinking.
And he’d be about Sam’s age.
This blonde hunk of masculinity is probably around my age.
Things aren’t adding up.
And Sam’s not here. I’ve got to keep calm. I’ve got to keep him here until I can get help, or get Sam, or... something. I’m not sure the police would explain.
“I asked how long Captain Silverman would be gone,” the voice is back, much closer to me as I stand idle at the coffee pot and the little electric burner.
“I’m sorry, I was just trying to work that out.
Let me see... I think the calendar is in his office, and the sink to fill the coffee pot is back there, too.
We have one of those electric percolators, you know.
Have a seat, handsome, and I’ll be right back.
” I give him a flirty little wink, and he looks surprised. Even angry.
I rush into the back rooms beyond the door that separates my office and the waiting area from Sam’s office, the washroom, and the coat closet.