Chapter 16
CHAPTER
TARRYTOWN
Luke was alone when he picked up Elsa and her box of magazines Monday morning. He’d given Tom and Barney the day off for Labor Day, but not himself.
“What a nice boss you are.” She accepted his hand as he helped her up into the truck, then closed the door.
When he climbed into the driver’s seat, she went on, “The American Museum of Natural History remains open on Labor Day, but even if it had been closed, I’d still be working.
Mr. Chapman made it clear he wants the Elmhurst project wrapped up as soon as possible.
I’ve already been here too long, according to him.
He wants me to process specimen exchanges between our museum and a few willing institutions in London, Berlin, and Stockholm. ”
As Luke pulled back into traffic and began the journey to Tarrytown, she asked how his weekend had been. He’d spent Saturday at Elmhurst on his own, he told her. Sunday, he’d tried birding in Central Park. This time he’d brought Tom along. “Not nearly as fun—or successful—without you.”
Elsa was sorry she’d missed him in both places and told him so. “Did you spy any interesting birds without me?”
“To tell you the truth, Tom got hung up on some pigeons, so we left early.”
“Pigeons? Why—” She stopped herself, recalling what she’d read about homing pigeons serving during the war, ferrying messages through dangerous skies when radio equipment failed. “Do pigeons still remind him of the war?”
“Apparently.”
She shook her head. “How awful. The city is full of them. But our urban birds aren’t like the trained carrier ones.”
“Close enough, I guess. Tom was part of the Lost Battalion over there.” Briefly, Luke explained the plight of those men, isolated from reinforcements in the Argonne Forest, pinned down by enemy fire for days, unable to get food or water.
They’d even been attacked from the air by friendly fire.
“A pigeon named Cher Ami finally carried a message to the American base telling them their location and to stop the barrage upon them.”
“I read about that little fellow,” Elsa said quietly. The bird’s name, in French, meant “dear friend.” The pigeon survived his mission but lost his leg and was blinded in the process.
“Tom loved those homing pigeons. That ordeal in the Argonne was the most traumatic episode in his experience. And then about a year after the war, some bigwigs decided to make a film about the Lost Battalion, and they wanted to use the real soldiers. So they took Tom and some others right back to the place where it happened and made them relive it all over again so they could capture it on film.” Luke’s jaw set, and a muscle twitched near his eye.
Elsa gasped. “I can’t imagine experiencing that ordeal once, let alone twice. Even if the veterans had a choice about participating in the filming, it still seems cruel.”
“It set him back, but he’s come a long way since then.”
She allowed a few moments of silence as she looked out the window. Half a block of halting traffic later, she asked, “What about you, Luke?”
“Me? I don’t need pigeons to remember the war, if that’s what you’re asking. All I need is a mirror.”
She wished that wasn’t true. “Do you still see the war in your reflection?”
“On occasion.”
When he didn’t say more, she figured it was easier for him to speak of Tom’s experience than his own. “I’ll never fully grasp what you went through.”
“Good,” he said, surprising her. “I wouldn’t want you to.
War is a soul-crushing evil. I found pockets of light and goodness during that time, but in general, I don’t want you to know what it was like over there.
That’s a burden I refuse to lay on you.” He glanced at her for only a moment before turning his gaze back to the road.
But it was long enough for the sincerity in his eyes to strike her.
“All right, I won’t ask about it,” she said, “but I’m willing to listen if you ever want to talk.”
He nodded. “I’ve done more than my share of talking this morning already. Your turn. How was your weekend?”
Well then. She hadn’t planned on telling him everything that happened on Coney Island Saturday night, but he did ask.
When she reached the part of the story where Archer and Percy agreed to split from her and Ivy, his grip tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.
But when she mentioned the man in the bowler, the look he shot her held a fierceness she knew was not intended for her. “Wait. I’m pulling over for this. And I think I need more coffee.”
In the next two minutes, they’d stopped at a roadside café with a painted wooden sign. Luke purchased two paper cups of coffee and handed one to Elsa. Together, they sat on a bench outside in the shade.
She checked her watch. Luke didn’t.
He drank what must have been half the cup at once. “Tell me everything.”
As she did, he stretched his arm on the back of the bench behind her. His attention never wavered as he listened to the entire story. “I thought maybe I was overreacting, but at the end, I was sure that man said, ‘See you soon.’”
Luke wrapped his hand around her shoulder. “Thank God you had the presence of mind to react the way you did.”
She savored the coffee, pleased that he’d remembered that she took cream and no sugar. “Maybe I didn’t read his lips right. Maybe he meant no harm.”
“It would have been an unacceptable risk to stay and find out.”
“Unacceptable to you?”
“Yes. To me.”
The warmth from his hand radiated through her. He smelled of sawdust and clean, sun-dried cotton. It would be so easy for her to lean into him. It surprised her how much she wanted to. “You seem to be taking all of this very seriously.”
“I take you seriously.”
“So I noticed.”
Hiding a rising blush, she finished the rest of her coffee, and they continued on their journey.
The closer they got to Tarrytown, the more the conversation centered on the Petrovics’ plight.
“Danielle is vulnerable,” she told Luke. “I have a feeling that if someone doesn’t intervene, Mr. Spalding could do something terrible. He could separate her from Tatiana or worse.”
Luke nodded. “When we deliver that box you brought, I’d like to hear if Tatiana has any updates. I can talk to her about moving that cottage off the grounds, too, if that’s what she decides to do. But I’ll need to inspect it first to see if it will hold together.”
“I hadn’t even considered that possibility. Thank you for thinking of it!” A measure of relief stole through her.
His lips tilted at one corner. “Don’t thank me yet. I have no idea where she could park it, and that’s if it doesn’t fall apart on the way.”
“I understand. But just knowing you care means a lot to me.”
“I do care.” Luke met her gaze for a moment before turning back to the road.
Elsa wondered if he’d meant those three small words for her. With a start, she realized she hoped he had.
———
Luke whistled low as they approached the mansion. “Haven’t seen a Rolls here before. Looks like another relative has come to pick over what’s left.”
From the long drive up to the house, Elsa recognized Wesley’s yellow Packard, along with a white convertible.
“That’s no relative of the Van Tessels,” she said, recognizing the license plate. “That auto belongs to Archer.”
Luke tensed. “Why is he here?”
“Excellent question. Let’s ask him.”
As they reached the veranda, Archer exited the house. At least he was empty-handed.
“What are you doing here?” she asked without preamble.
Archer jumped back when he saw her, shock splayed across his face. “What are you doing here? You said, ‘See you Monday.’ Didn’t that mean you were planning to stay at the museum today?”
“Hi, I’m Luke, and you’re not supposed to be here. Allow me to see you off the property.” Luke grabbed his arm and escorted Archer off the veranda and all the way to his Rolls.
Elsa followed them. “Change of plans. I decided to come here today instead of staying in Manhattan. You still haven’t told us why you’re here. Clearly it isn’t to see me.”
Archer jerked his arm out of Luke’s grasp and rubbed the spot where he’d been gripped. “Gee, what happened to you? Cut yourself shaving?”
Elsa’s temper burned, but Luke kept his cool. In fact, his expression turned stone cold.
“I was only trying to help. I wanted to surprise you.” Archer threw up his hands. “So much for that.”
“Surprise me how?”
“You said you wanted to find the aviary but haven’t searched properly since you’re here for work and shouldn’t take the time. I met Wesley Spalding after I saw him talking to you at Luna Park. We hit it off. He told me where the estate was. I only wanted to help you look for it.”
Luke glowered. “This isn’t your concern.”
“She’s my concern. If it’s important to her, it’s important to me.”
“Applesauce.” Elsa didn’t believe it. Not after his disregard for her on Coney Island.
“Consider it an olive branch after the way we parted Saturday night. Why don’t you tell the guard dog here to leave us alone so we can talk?”
Elsa bristled. “No.”
Luke looked from her to Archer. “Woof.”
The air seemed to crackle with the tension radiating from Luke. Archer ran a finger inside his overstarched collar. “Well, I got the feeling after Percy and I left you and Ivy in Luna Park that maybe I should have made sure you made it home all right.”
A muscle bunched in Luke’s jaw. “Maybe? Maybe you should have made sure?”
“It was her idea,” Archer insisted. “She didn’t want to do the rides, so she suggested we go our separate ways. She said they’d take the subway home.”
“And you had no problem walking away from her on a Saturday night in a place where all kinds of people congregate and make trouble. You decided it was better to hit the roller coasters than be a gentleman and enjoy her company while ensuring she was safe at all times from the unsavory elements. You figured two women walking between subway stations in the dark to make their transfers was an acceptable risk.”