Chapter Eighteen #2
With a sigh, she tucked the key back and ran a hand across a stack of land grants. She turned toward the records room. A bench sat beneath a small window looking into it. May as well wait there.
As she started over, the bell rang again.
A man entered, his hat pulled low. She frowned.
Something about him pricked familiar. He spoke to the clerk, voice too hushed for her to make out.
Satisfied with whatever the clerk had told him, he adjusted his hat and for a fleeting second, his face caught the light.
Her blood chilled as she recognized Burke, the shipwrecked sailor.
Samantha’s warning about trusting him rang like an alarm in Josephine’s head as his gaze swept the room.
She dropped to the floor and shimmied back between two bookshelves, heart slamming against her ribs.
Why was he here? Worse, had he seen her?
With mind racing, she straightened and found a gap between two stacks of papers. Holding her breath, she peered through.
He was gone.
She sucked in a breath. Don’t panic. The ship Thorne had sunk had come from here.
This could be his home. It could be as simple as a friend or family member that worked in the library.
Her breathing slowed. Still, she stayed put.
After their altercation earlier on deck, she wasn’t taking any chances.
Click.
The echo of a boot heel struck the wood floor just on the other side of the bookshelf she hid behind.
Click.
She held her breath as he stopped directly opposite her.
He coughed, and the ledgers near her face shifted as he adjusted them.
Her throat went dry. If he pulled them free, he would see her.
After an agonizing moment, he started walking again.
Though her muscles slackened, she stayed perfectly still, her chest squeezing.
Once he made it to the end of the aisle, one single step would put her in his line of sight.
Slowly, she backed up, until she reached the end of the bookcase. She would have to time it perfectly.
With heart pounding, she waited until his shadow fell into her aisle, then eased herself around the back of the shelf, into the aisle he’d just left. It worked. Her breath rushed out as a tremor wracked her body.
Burke approached the window of the records room and peered inside.
He didn’t move. He simply stood there—watching.
Waiting. She narrowed her eyes. Why was he snooping on the lieutenant?
He lingered a moment longer, his posture too still, too focused.
Then, with a final glance toward the clerk, he turned and strode out the door.
Only when the bell jingled again did Josephine let out the breath she’d been holding. She waited—counted to ten, then twenty—before she stepped into the open, heart still thudding in her throat. Burke hadn’t seen her. But the unease remained, curling cold and tight in her belly.
The door to the records room creaked open. Isaac emerged with a triumphant glint in his eye. He strode across the room and caught her elbow, leaning in with a whisper.
“You were right. After the fire, some of the streets that had been named after British roads were renamed. Queen Street is now Church Street.” He hurried toward the door. “And, it was in an area of town unscathed by the fire.”
Her heart soared. Finally, good news. But she needed to tell him what she had seen. She chewed on her cheek. If she told him, he might decide to go back to the ship. Nevertheless, he needed to know.
“Lieutenant, while you were in the records room, Mr. Burke came in.”
He frowned. “What did he want?”
“He didn’t see me. But he watched you in the records room for a while, then left.”
With a shake of his head, Lieutenant Caldwell continued across the room. “Earlier, he had the nerve to ask if he could come along. I told him to stay on the ship.” A scowl twisted his lips. “He’s proving more trouble than he’s worth.”
She shifted her weight, crossing her arms around her middle. “Something about him feels off.”
“He’s letting his anger toward Thorne cloud his judgment. I’ll have a stern talk with him later.”
But it wasn’t just grief or rage. Josephine could feel it deep in her bones—the crawling unease she felt around him, how her instincts had screamed when his gaze swept past. There was something more in him, something dangerous.
She took a steadying breath and forced a smile. They had an address to hunt down. Later, after they had their answers, she could worry about Burke and his spying.
“Let’s go find our answers.” Lieutenant Caldwell guided her out into the afternoon sun. He unfolded a sheet of parchment and pointed to the rough sketch of a map he’d drawn. “It’s not far from here.”
The air hung heavy around them, clinging to their skin as they walked in silence. As the blocks passed, the sounds of the city faded beneath the weight of her thoughts. Her key may very well unlock the information the lieutenant needed to capture Thorne. The possibility quickened her pulse.
“This is it.”
He’d slowed and Josephine jerked her head up. She wrung her hands together as she stared. “Are you sure?”
The house loomed like a hollowed shell, set back from the narrow street.
Choked by creeping ivy, its shutters hung crooked on bricks faded by wind and rain.
Josephine’s skin prickled as she took it in—the slanted roofline, the shattered panes, the overgrown grass hiding the path.
It looked forsaken. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides as they stepped onto the sagging porch, weathered boards groaning under their feet.
Above the door, a Latin inscription had been carved into stone.
Societas vitae umbrarum.
She squinted at it. “The Society of Shadow Life. Or perhaps Life in Shadows.”
He gave her an appreciative glance. “Someone was paying attention in school. Good thing because I never bothered.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “This is about the only time in my life it’s proved useful.”
“And I’m glad for it.” Warmth flowed through his words and her pulse jumped again. He reached for the doorknob, giving it a shake. “Locked.”
Josephine’s hand rose to the ribbon at her neck. “My key?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s a different type of lock. Stand back.” With a grunt, he threw his shoulder into the door. It flew open, sending him tumbling inside, his arms flailing.
Rubbing his shoulder, he raised a brow. “Well. That was a lot easier than I expected.”
She couldn’t help a giggle. “Or maybe you’re just that strong?”
He shot her a lopsided grin that sent a flutter through her chest. “I like that theory.”
“Wait here.” He ducked inside, leaving her alone on the porch. She twisted, eyes scanning the empty street and jumped when he popped his head out. “All clear.”
She hurried in, eyes adjusting to the dim light.
The scent of mildew and dust hung heavy in the air, and she fought back a reflexive cough.
Blinking, she took in the room. The wallpaper—once patterned in elegant swirls—peeled in long, curling strips, exposing raw plaster beneath.
At the far end of the room, an ancient fireplace, choked with soot and cobwebs, held a pair of abandoned candlesticks, their wax melted and hardened into twisted stumps.
But it was the mirror that drew her attention.
It dominated the wall across from her, its silver backing speckled and faded.
Her reflection stared back, ghostlike in the dim light, and unease curled low in her belly.
Something was wrong.
A moment later, the lieutenant put it to words. “There’s nothing here.” He dropped to his knees, rubbing a finger across the dusty floorboards and pointed to a bare spot. “Someone’s been through before us.”
She bent. Though several footprints were visible, a fresh layer of dust had already gathered. “Not recently.”
He lifted his head to meet her gaze. “You’re right.”
Together, they moved deeper into the house, their steps stirring motes of dust into the thin shafts of light filtering through the grimy windows.
Each room they checked yielded the same result—stripped bare.
No furniture, no papers, no hidden compartments or signs of recent life. Only shadows and silence.
“This can’t be it,” Josephine whispered, her voice nearly swallowed by the empty air. She turned slowly in the center of the big room they’d started in, the key suddenly cold against her skin. “There has to be something.”
The lieutenant moved with purpose, knocking along the walls, running his hands along the stone of the fireplace. Jaw tight, his frustration simmered just beneath the surface. “I think someone made damn sure there was nothing left to find.”
All the work today. All for nothing. Tears stung Josephine’s eyes, threatening to unleash a torrent of emotions. She came to a stop in front of the mirror, the tarnished surface distorting her image. The lieutenant stood behind her, his reflection a mere shadow.
“I wasted so much of your time.” A heavy ache wrapped around her heart. “I’m so sorry.”
He stepped forward into the light, his gaze locking with hers. “I’m not.”