Paper Woman: A Mystery of the American Revolution (7 page)

His voice
quieted.
 
"Trust me.
 
I'm allowing you house arrest, and that
involves considerable trust on my part."

She
comprehended the risk he took.
 
No one
had made that kind of sacrifice for her.
 
Softness unfolded in her soul.
 
"I appreciate your trust.
 
I
shall give it my best endeavor and not attempt escape."
 
She paused.
 
"But don't ciphers require a key?"

"Indeed."
 
He motioned her to follow him back out into
the shop.
 
Along the way, she wondered
how the pressroom fireplace had come to look so tidy overnight.
 
Near Fairfax, Edward faced her.
 
"The key to this cipher is in a book by
Saint Augustine."

Sophie's jaw
dangled.
 
"
Confessions
?
 
Why, that's the very book stolen last
night!
 
If you wish me to succeed, you
must find a copy of that exact edition for my use.
 
I doubt anyone in Alton has such material.
 
You might have luck in Augusta."

"Lieutenant,
give Mrs. Barton the book."

Fairfax stared
at Edward as if he misunderstood.
 
"Sir?"

Sophie stared
at Edward, understanding at last.
 
The
softness in her soul withered to ash, and a dank sense of violation spilled
into the void.
 
Glancing to the base of
the stairs, she spotted the strawberry boot print.
 
She stared at Edward's boots: the same size.
 
She could also count on the soldiers to
extract any evidence the confiscated charred woodcut yielded.
 
Why didn't they violate her house Friday
night and arrest eight men in the act of sedition?
 
Perhaps it was more convenient to arrest one woman on
circumstantial evidence.

Anger flooded
her soul.
 
How dared Edward do this to
her?

He passed her
the copy of
Confessions
he'd removed from Will's nightstand.
 
"Mrs. Barton is under house
arrest."

"Sir, I
remind you of regulations concerning rebel spies —"

"Thank
you, Lieutenant.
 
She has agreed to
decode the message in exchange for the privilege of house arrest."

"Sir, the
regulations are clear.
 
No privileges
may be —"

"You will
select two suitable men and station them here, within the St. James home."

"But, sir
—"

"Lieutenant,
need I remind you of your role as my subordinate?"

The volcano
capped itself, and non-emotion resumed residence on the face of Fairfax.
 
"Sir."
 
He stood at attention.

"Mrs.
Barton requires no interruptions, no visitors."

Sophie gripped
the book, white-knuckled with fury.
 
"What of my brother?
 
Surely
you know he has no dealings with rebels."

"One
ten-minute visitation with David St. James."

"Sir."

"And
secure all firearms."
 
Edward
leaned closer to Fairfax and lowered his voice until she could barely
distinguish his words.
 
"El
Serpiente was here last night looking for St. James."
 
El Serpiente — alias for a Spanish spy?
 
"The men chosen for this assignment
must
protect
Mrs. Barton."
 
Edward straightened and regarded her.
 
"I leave you now in the capable hands of Lieutenant
Fairfax."
 
He glanced at the time
on a watch from his waistcoat pocket.
 
"I shall return for the deciphered message on the morrow at
precisely eight-thirty."
 
After a
short bow, he exited out the front door.

"You will
surrender all firearms to me immediately."

Sophie
repressed a shudder at the thought of being in Fairfax's "capable"
hands for a full twenty-four hours.
 
Perhaps if she cooperated, he'd leave her alone, and she'd only have to
deal with the two soldiers.
 
"This
way."

Chapter Five

SEVENTEEN,
FOUR, TWENTY-FIVE, sixteen, forty-nine, eleven...Numbers in odd positions of
the cipher increased, but those in even positions followed no pattern.
 
Sophie decided she might as well assume the
message began on page seventeen.

If he fell
in love with me, I might fall in love with him, too
.
 
Could she love a man who'd burgled her house
and arrested her?
 
Could she
sleep
with him?
 
Did he love her?
 
What did she want from him?

Back to the
cipher.
 
At the desk in her bedroom, she
copied the fourth word on page seventeen to a sheet of paper, and the sixteenth
word on page twenty-five, and so on before realizing the scheme was too
obvious.
 
Next she copied first letters
of words.
 
Gibberish.
 
She inverted the order of letters.
 
More gibberish.

Ensign Baldwin
knocked on her door.
 
"Mrs. Barton,
your brother has arrived.
 
Shall I admit
him?"

She sprang up
and yanked open the door.
 
"Yes,
straight away."
 
David trod
upstairs, and she motioned him inside.

He shut the
door and sat on her bed.
 
"News of
your arrest is all over town.
 
What the
deuce is going on?"

"I shall
be jailed on the morrow if I don't decipher
this
."
 
After showing him the cipher, she summarized
the past twelve hours and finished with, "Did you see the broadside?"

"Oh, yes,
posted around Alton this morning, so townsfolk have seen it, too.
 
Despite efforts to hush the affair, the
broadside keeps reappearing.
 
No one can
catch the perpetrators."

"What did
you think of the broadside?"

"Definitely
not MacVie's best artwork."
 
With a
beguiling smile, he dodged her swipe at him.
 
"Seriously, the full story has emerged from the Waxhaws incident.
 
Colonel Buford invited massacre upon his men
— first by refusing to surrender, then by continuing to fight after raising the
white flag."

"The
fool."

"No
greater fool than Colonel Tarleton, who allowed his soldiers to hack men to
pieces.
 
Sanity has fled both
sides.
 
Your arrest confirms fears of
Loyalists that the redcoats prey on their own.
 
It also confirms the convictions of rebels that everyone's a
patriot."

She grimaced at
the implication.
 
"I don't fit the
profile for a heroine.
 
I complain far
too much."

"True, but
you could still end up being a martyr."

They locked
gazes, and a rare furrow appeared between his eyebrows, sign that he'd leaped
from the happy-go-lucky wagon of his life into the carriage of concern.
 
A lump formed in her throat before she rose
and fumbled through papers on her desk.
 
"So tell me, what do you make of this?"

He shrugged at
the numbers.
 
"The old man is in
over his head.
 
Sit in his room
awhile.
 
Let him tell you what it
means."

"I cannot
decipher it.
 
I shall be jailed on the
morrow."

The furrow
between his eyebrows deepened, and he stared through her.
 
"Jailed?
 
I've a hunch not."

Baldwin rapped
on her door.
 
"Your ten minutes are
up, Mr. St. James."

"A hunch,
you say?" she whispered.

David rose, and
the furrow disappeared, replaced with his familiar complacency.
 
"A feeling I get when the cards are
right.
 
Players around the table
change.
 
Captain John Sheffield and
Lieutenant Michael Stoddard arrived in town this morning.
 
Hunt will be returning to England, and
Fairfax will be transferred to the Seventeenth Light in South
Carolina."
 
He hugged her.
 
"So chin up.
 
You'll triumph."

***

She ate dinner
in the dining room while pondering the change in the garrison's command.
 
Back up in her room, she paced and tried
more decoding schemes, but they resulted in gibberish.
 
She kept wondering whether Captain Sheffield
would dispense with house arrest and jail her after Edward left town.

Her patience
grown short, her bedroom grown warm, she leaned out the window for a view of
the town.
 
Goats roamed loose pilfering
neighbors' garden greens, and chickens flitted out of the way of two boys
running a hoop in the dirt street.
 
Wood
smoke dulled the sky.
 
Years of sun and
rain had bleached the wood buildings to a uniform gray.
 
How drab Alton looked.
 
She pulled back inside and sat on the
bed.
 
Was Hampshire more colorful?
 
Not that she need waste time wondering, for
surely Edward's offer had become void.

Conversation in
the shop preceded the tramp of boots up the stairs, a rap on her door, and an
unfamiliar man's voice.
 
"Mrs.
Barton, I must speak with you."
 
Shoulders
squared, she opened the door to a dark-haired British lieutenant in his
mid-twenties, mild-featured despite a cluster of pimples on his chin.
 
He stood at attention, looking beyond her.
 
"Lieutenant Stoddard at your service,
madam.
 
I regret to inform you that your
father met with foul play, we believe sometime between ten last night and two
this morning.
 
As neither your sister
nor brother can be located this moment, we require your attendance at the scene
to confirm identification of the body."

In the first
second, the news speared her with panic and fear.
 
Then she clamped down on it.
 
Will St. James — dead?
 
Absolutely not.
 
A deep suspicion
that the redcoats were baiting a trap carved through her.
 
She glowered at Stoddard.
 
"As you wish."
 
He turned on his heel, and she followed him
downstairs, the cipher forgotten.

***

Their
destination was on Zack MacVie's property.
 
Feeling her neck branded by summer, she adjusted her straw hat,
dismounted the sweating horse just outside a copse of hardwoods, and handed the
reins to a private supervising horses.

Nearby, Mathias
Hale stood with Edward, the scarlet of Edward's uniform vivid against the lush
countryside.
 
Although she couldn't pick
out their conversation, she watched Mathias pivot and bow his head against his
horse's saddle, and her confidence sputtered.
 
Could Will truly be dead?
 
Dread
seeping into her heart, she hastened after Stoddard, who made for the copse.

He stomped
vines out of her way.
 
Upon entering the
cool shade, she passed a tethered horse, then her nose was assaulted by the
stench of charred meat.
 
While her eyes
adjusted to shade, she spotted sheets draping three bodies.
 
What devilry was this?
 
Had there been
three
murders?
 
Memory of Mathias's posture of grief knotted
her stomach.

Both
lieutenants were afoot among the moldering leaves of the copse, and Stoddard
addressed Fairfax.
 
"I didn't
expect to find you here.
 
What brings
you this way?"

Fairfax took
position above the gore-soaked sheet near Sophie.
 
"I'm solving murders and appreciate your leaving the
premises before you destroy evidence.
 
Sir."

Sophie flushed
at Fairfax's rudeness.
 
Stoddard closed
the distance between them and swelled his chest.
 
Although he was Fairfax's height, the russet-haired lieutenant
outweighed him by at least twenty-five pounds, all of it muscle, making
Stoddard look scrawny.
 
"
I
was given charge of this investigation at one o'clock.
 
You
and your commander have been
transferred from this garrison.
 
Sir."

"How
unfortunate.
 
Sir.
 
I presume you've skill solving crimes?"

"I've
tracked down burglars and livestock thieves."

"Capital.
 
Such depth of experience should stand you on
firm ground in the realm of violent death."

"And
you've
skill solving crimes of violence?"

"Four
cases of arson, three abductions, five murders.
 
I no longer count the burglaries and livestock thefts."
 
Fairfax glanced beyond her and came to
attention, mockery departing his expression.

Leaves rustled
behind Sophie.
 
Edward interposed
himself between her and the nearest body, diplomacy smoothing his tone.
 
"No need for concern, Mr. Fairfax.
 
I believe we can turn the investigation over
to Mr. Stoddard with confidence."