23. Twenty-Three
Where was Papa’s fortitude when she needed it? Camilla slid her hands along the side of her sturdy skirt before remembering she didn’t have trouser pockets. Daniel opened the door to a blocky building and gestured her ahead of him. The warmth of his palm on her lower back helped with the upheaval in her stomach.
She’d never been inside a police station before. She waited near the door while Daniel spoke to a man in a blue double-breasted jacket with shiny copper buttons. She’d endured yesterday’s trial of unloading her home, held herself together through a tearful reunion with Hattie last night that had caused cracks in the dam of her composure, and determinedly donned her best churchgoing outfit this morning.
Complete with uncomfortable T-straps she’d wobbled in twice. And gloves.
She picked at the lace near her wrist. The appreciation in Daniel’s gaze when he’d arrived at Hattie’s this morning almost made her wish she dressed like this more often.
“A detective will see us now.” Daniel’s voice so close to her ear made her jump. His hand settled against her back again. “Are you all right?”
Of course she was. She’d only lost her father and now her home and her head felt stuffed with so many confusing emotions it might burst at any moment. “Yes, sorry. Just thinking.”
The concern in his eyes didn’t dim, but he gave a nod and steered her toward a door in the rear past the waiting and receiving areas.
Her heels clicked against the stone floor as imposing walls loomed on either side. The officers bustling down the hall didn’t seem to notice the humidity or the weight of despair, but they must be used to such things.
A fellow in a pressed uniform led them to the end of the tunnellike hallway and into a room that may as well have been a cell itself. Bare walls and a table with four durable chairs. Only a single window to let in clean sunshine while a gaslight in the corner battled the shadows with yellowed thrusts and parries.
The officer closed them inside without a word. Camilla stepped to the window, but the view consisted of the side of the neighboring brick wall and discarded rubbish.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Daniel regarded her from his position near the door. He ran a hand through his dark hair after tucking his hat under his arm. “You seem nervous.”
Irrational annoyance volleyed up her throat. “And let me guess. You think I am nervous about being in a police station because I am secretly to blame for the loss of your treasure. Oh yes, and your father, though that seems secondary to you.”
The horrible words shot through the air and landed hard enough to make him take a step back. Confusion and pain twisted together on his face as dense and intricate as a monkey’s fist knot.
“Daniel, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said—”
The door opened, and an imposing figure filled the doorway. The man had to be a foot taller than she, with broad shoulders, a wide brow, and a generous mouth set in a determined line.
“Please take a seat, Miss Lockhart, Mr. Gray.” The man’s voice rumbled with authority, and she slid into the chair nearest the window.
Daniel hesitated, his intelligent eyes taking in the newcomer’s tailored suit and short-cut hair. When Daniel sat next to her, his perfect posture, smooth features, and steady assurance made her blink.
But of course, Daniel would be used to rooms like this. Didn’t lawyers sit in these meetings with criminals all the time? Her teeth clamped. And now he sat here with her.
She clenched the arms of her chair. What in the tarnation had gotten into her? Why the barrage of dark thoughts and unwarranted accusations? She closed her eyes and winged a short prayer heavenward for the Lord to help her to renew her mind, take every thought captive, and guard her tongue.
When she opened her eyes, she found the mountainous man regarding her thoughtfully. He seemed to take up half the table on his own. She cut a glance at Daniel, who also watched her. She lifted her chin a notch and waited for one of them to speak first.
“I’m Detective Mason McCready. Officer Sutton informed me you have information on suspected contraband and smugglers.”
“Bootleggers.” The word popped out of her mouth. “That’s what y’all call them, right? We heard people in the woods. Then a well-dressed fella came out and said he’d fix my boat and we’d work out a deal. Seemed suspicious to us, seeing as how he came from nowhere. Oh, and there was shooting.” She shifted to look at Daniel. “Right?”
Daniel’s perfect poise never wavered. His hands relaxed on the table, his shoulders level, and his voice firm yet at ease.
“At approximately two o’clock yesterday afternoon, Captain Lockhart anchored the Alma May about eight miles north of Natchez. She and I exited the vessel to explore a section of an oxbow in accordance with a family map I had in my possession. We heard voices and men talking about moving cargo and mentioning someone named Durkin.”
The detective’s eyes lit. The name had to be someone important.
“Suspecting these men were up to no good, Captain Lockhart and I abandoned our personal quest for family history and returned to the boat. In the process of pulling back out into the river, we were nearly overrun by a larger steamer. Due to Captain Lockhart’s skill, we were able to avoid a collision. However, the boat ran aground on a hidden sandbar. Soon after, a man named Mr. Pike arrived and offered to tow the vessel and pay for repairs in exchange for Captain Lockhart making a few deliveries for him. The captain recognized a scheme was likely afoot, and so we came to report our findings first thing this morning.”
Well, that certainly sounded better coming from him than it had from her. Gone was the man who stuffed his hands in his pockets and listened more than he spoke. This version of Daniel was confident and in charge. She liked that the same man could be both powerful and assured in this intimidating situation while also being known as a loving and playful uncle. And a man with a gentle touch and a passionate kiss.
Camilla blinked. Heavens. There went her thoughts again. Like chickens caught in a tornado.
Detective McCready plucked a small book from his breast pocket and jotted some notes. “Can you please describe Mr. Pike?”
Daniel looked at her, but she shook her head. He fared much better at this than she.
“White man, slightly taller than average, slim build. Medium-brown hair, clean-shaven, wide-set blue eyes. Slight British accent.”
She would have merely described the fellow as rope-thin with a sharp nose and a slimy voice. Daniel had done much better.
“And the reason you were exploring the riverbank?”
“Personal family lore. We sought the location mentioned in an old document.”
Why didn’t he say anything about the treasure?
“For what purpose?”
The two men stared at one another. Should she say something? Before she could decide, Daniel spoke.
“There is a legend in my family about a lost sum of gold that’s never been found. Odds are that no such heirloom exists, but I hired Captain Lockhart to take me up the Mississippi to assuage my curiosity nonetheless.”
Detective McCready jotted more notes, then pushed away from the table. “Thank you for the information. My men will investigate this matter posthaste.”
Camilla rose and marched to the door, careful not to let her stride length reveal her eagerness to get out of this room. As easily as men found cause for suspicion, she didn’t want to give the detective any reason to wonder if she’d succumbed to any nefarious deeds.
When she reached the outdoors, she sucked a lungful of fresh air. Air tainted with the scents of horses, dust, and automobile smoke. She rubbed her gloved hands together as Daniel exited onto the street and secured a linen flat cap over his hair.
He cut a fine figure in his suit, blue tie, and shined shoes.
“That wasn’t so terrible, though I must say I am glad it’s over.” She placed on a smile for his benefit.
Daniel regarded her with a level expression, his confident lawyer persona still in place. “Captain Lockhart, you and I are in need of a frank discussion. Would you kindly join me for coffee?”
Something in her stomach fluttered. She straightened her shoulders and dipped her chin with a single nod. She’d weathered worse than a man ending a contract and any hopes for romance with her. She’d withstand this as well. She couldn’t pretend surprise. They’d suspected one another of secrecy and disingenuousness at nearly every turn. One could not build a friendship, let alone more, without trust. And no matter how hard they tried, neither of them could seem to go long without accusing the other. It would be best to part ways.
Besides, he’d hired her for her boat and knowledge of the river, and without the Alma May and now with the police raiding a bootlegging operation in the middle of their only clue, the job had turned belly-up.
They strolled along the sidewalk like a couple on a leisurely outing. She even let herself wonder what that would be like. To make a home on land, marry a good man, start a family. Do things like wear dresses and go out to breakfast rather than hauling cargo and eating fish stew before sunrise.
She’d been to Murphy’s bakery to grab a few muffins as a nice surprise for the crew before, but she’d never sat at one of the pretty tables topped with white cloths and stem vases. Daniel pulled out a metal chair with a flower pattern welded into the back for her, and she sat while he went to order.
No one looked at her askance when she didn’t come in wearing men’s trousers, suspenders, and a newsboy cap. Why did a person’s appearance matter so much to others? She was the same woman no matter what she wore. Perhaps life on land would be too constricting after all. How quickly would she get tired of heeled shoes and coiled hair heating the back of her neck?
Daniel arrived with two mugs emitting a delicious aroma and set them on the table. Then he returned with two frosted cinnamon rolls and placed one in front of her. He sat across from her and lifted his mug. Green eyes contained a current of emotion behind wisps of steam.
Perhaps she should save him the discomfort.
“I agree our contract should be terminated and our partnership henceforth severed.”
One eyebrow twitched as he drew a slow sip. Then he lowered the yellow ceramic mug to the table.
She shifted her feet. “I understand that, without the use of my vessel and the complications arising from the criminals occupying the location of our only clue, such an agreement is no longer feasible under the original terms.”
This time, he gave a thoughtful nod.
She cleared her throat, then took a sip of too-hot coffee to ease the scratchiness. “And given our rampant distrust of one another, I also understand your need to inform me any previously discussed inclinations toward romance at the conclusion of our contract are now over.”
Daniel laced his fingers together on the table, gaze seeming to dig all the way to her heart.
“I’ll sign a new agreement if you need me to.” Not that she figured he would, but the unnerving silence dug around under her skin.
“Why do you distrust me, Camilla?” The soft words, so full of conviction, cut through any surface-level answer she might give.
“Because you could easily hurt me.” Truth she’d not meant to speak landed between them. She swallowed against the sour taste it left behind.
Couples chattered around them, and sweet scents swirled in the air. But at their table, she sat on an island surrounded by uncertainty and a tempest of emotions she couldn’t understand.
“Is that because you believe I sought you out thinking you had something to do with the disappearance of my father?” He spoke slowly as though each word pained him. “You believe I suspect your father of foul play and you had a hand in the entire scheme. Therefore, I am playing with your emotions and deceiving you into revealing incriminating evidence so I can get rid of you and take the treasure my father killed yours over.”
“Of course not,” she snapped.
His steady gaze wouldn’t release hers. Something in her belly quivered. Was that what she’d believed? Somewhere in her heart, had she feared this stranger had come to finish whatever trouble her father had found himself in—that Daniel had deceived her along the way? Because in her hidden recesses, had she believed there must be no other explanation as to why a man such as he could care for a woman like her?
Perhaps. If so, she thought less of herself than she should, and she’d promised Papa she wouldn’t let herself think that way. And…admitting Daniel had that much power over her inner workings meant he’d already anchored into her heart, even if that heart feared it was all a lie.
Did that make her weak? And woolly-headed?
She bristled. “You have suspected me at every turn. Just yesterday, you found a coin I’d never seen before and decided I had hidden it. Moreover, I had planned an elaborate scheme to trick you into coming to find me and hiring me so I could use you to get to the treasure your father found and then killed mine for.”
Daniel set down his mug. “Whatever happened between our fathers, I don’t believe you had anything to do with it.”
She gripped her cup with fingers that wanted to tremble, and the fire left her veins. “Likewise.” Her stiff shoulders deflated. “But that doesn’t mean one didn’t betray the other and regardless of what happened between them, it muddies the waters for us. We cannot trust one another because we blame our current pain on the other’s family.”
Daniel tapped a finger on the tablecloth. “Insightful. I believe you are correct.”
Despite the logic insisting they were best off parting ways, his words still dropped like an anchor. “Very well. Then I suppose we are agreed.”
“On which point? Thus far, you said several things I’ve not conceded to.”
“Such as?” An annoying flare of hope lit deep within, and she did her best to quench it. It made no sense why she would continue to be drawn to a man she couldn’t trust with her heart.
Except for the kindness and solid character he’d shown since they’d first met. The way he’d been tender to a tiny dog and a little boy. How he cared for those around him and sought to protect those he loved.
“While I do agree our arrangement must be altered due to the nature of our current circumstances,” Daniel stated, “I’m not yet ready to give up the contract entirely.”
She opened her mouth to protest but pursed her lips instead. She wanted to see what else he did or did not agree with.
“As to the more personal nature of our relationship, I have not strayed from my previous intentions. While I do acknowledge we have challenges to overcome, such is the nature of any partnership.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Or romance.”
This time, she couldn’t keep the words back. “You are still romantically interested in me? After all of this? Why?”
The edges of his mouth twitched. “That, for one.” The humor left his tone, and his intense gaze remained locked onto hers. “I apologize for being a suspicious sort. I would blame it on my profession, but it is a personality trait I have always harbored. Perhaps it became a benefit to my work, but it can also be a hindrance. No matter what your father or mine did, it changes nothing about how I feel something intrinsic to the very nature of my soul when I am with you.”
Her pulse tripped like it had also worn a new pair of heels and decided to go for a run. The man used a lot of fancy words, but the meaning had been clear. Something deep within her formed a connection with something within him despite everything else.
Was this what Papa had meant when he’d said that Mama had been his heart’s match? That God had made their souls in harmony, and they resonated with one another in a way he’d been unable to explain?
Did her soul’s harmony meld with Daniel’s? Could that be why she continuously felt drawn to him even as she tried to deny his effect on her? Even as she tried to push him away?
“I…” She tried to regain moisture in her mouth. Without any luck, she took a sip of her coffee. Then another.
Daniel sat back in his chair, one side of his lips tilting. “Have I rendered the quick-witted captain speechless?”
Where had this confident, playful, and utterly charming man come from? “I like this version of you.”
The smile slipped. “What?”
Had she offended him? “I mean, you always seem worried. Nervous, sometimes. But not today. Today you spoke to a beast of a man with perfect confidence. You’re not only the smartest man I’ve ever known, but the kindest as well. Then today you added charming and in charge, and I think I finally know what women mean when they talk about swooning.”
Daniel tilted his head back and laughed with a warm rumble radiating from his chest.
Her breath caught. Why had that been amusing? She’d revealed her affections for him, and he laughed?
He shook his head, and bright eyes met hers. “That, for second.”
“What was for first?”
“First, you are direct and honest, which as I’ve said before I appreciate about you. For second, you see in me everything I want to be but fear I can never accomplish. Do you know what it does to a man to have a woman like you think such about him? It makes him feel as though he can take on the world.”
“Oh.” She turned over her lacy palm. “I only say what is true.”
“And the fact that you believe it so—even while we still battle our suspicious and unbelieving natures—is what makes me want to do my best to live up to the assessment.” He took her hand and held it between both of his. “I don’t want to end our partnership and I don’t want to halt our pursuit of a romantic relationship. Do you?”
“No.” The word slipped out as more of a sigh, and she wanted to wallop herself for sounding like a lovestruck ninny.
Though perhaps she was.
And maybe…well, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.