Sadie's Secret: 3 (The Secret Lives of Will Tucker) (22 page)

He shrugged. “God answers some prayers quickly. Others He is a bit slower in response. And on the topic of slow…” Gabriel glanced around and fixed the waiter moving their direction with a frown.

“I understand you’re considering opening a medical practice in River Pointe.”

“I am, although New Orleans suits me, and I’ve had a nice offer to join a practice here in the city. I am as yet undecided—Finally,” he said to the waiter before accepting a glass of water and turning to Sadie, his smile restored. “Dip the handkerchief in there, and you’ll have much better luck in removing the evidence of your beignet.”

She did and the problem was solved. When she attempted to return the handkerchief to him, Gabriel shook his head. “Keep it for now. You still have beignets to eat, and besides, I will see you on Thursday.”

She clutched the damp handkerchief. “Oh, yes. Now that you mention it, I believe Mama said something about inviting you out to visit.”

Not only visit. Unless Ethan was wrong in his assumptions, every effort would be expended to make a match between her and Gabriel.

She debated warning him and then despaired of it. Better that she pray Mama would not take that step after all rather than give the handsome doctor the wrong impression about Sadie’s participation in the scheme. For she would most decidedly
not
be helping Mama make any matches. That was the last thing she wanted.

The very last thing.

“I am looking forward to an enjoyable evening.” His eyes swept the length of her and then returned to meet her gaze. “However, I must ask if condolences are in order.”

“Condolences?” She glanced down. “Oh, no…”

What to say? Sadie leaned forward, and her childhood friend did the same.

“May I ask a favor of you?”

He seemed to consider the question before lifting one dark brow. “That would depend on the favor. I’ve taken the Hippocratic oath, and one of its basic tenants is that I do no harm.
So…”

“You’re teasing me.”

He shrugged. “Well, you do see how this could become complicated should you ask something of me that would conflict with this oath.”

Sadie laughed. Indeed, he was the same Gabriel she recalled. “I assure you that your oath will not be broken.”

“Then ask away. If you’re sure.”

Sadie toyed with the edge of the handkerchief as she formulated just the right words for her request. Finally, she looked up to see he was still watching her.

“All right. I don’t know how you managed to find me. I’ve donned somewhat of a disguise.”

“I assumed as much when you said you did not have a husband languishing in the grave.”

“Yes, well, I would first request that you not ask for the details as to why I wish to pass an hour or so undetected. And then I would also ask that you not tell anyone you’ve seen me.”

“Ah.” He sat back and stroked the well-trimmed beard on his chin as if considering her words. “So you wish to make two requests. That does change things a bit.”

“It does?” She gave him a sideways look. “How so?”

“If you were only asking the one favor, then I could justify complete agreement.” Again he paused to stroke his beard in mock thoughtfulness. “However, in light of things I must ask for a promise in return should I agree to your terms.”

“A promise in return?” Only the twinkle in his eye gave him away. She grinned. “And what is that?”

“I will request a promise that you take a walk with me after supper on Thursday.” He shook his head. “No, I will require it. And perhaps you may even tell me what causes a woman to want privacy enough to hide in order to get it.”

Gabriel’s mock-serious expression had her laughing again. “We are agreed. I will take a walk with you after dinner, and you will not tell anyone we have spoken today.”

“Don’t be silly. The only person I had occasion to speak to was a lovely woman in widow’s garb who had need of my assistance with a handkerchief and a glass of water.” He paused to rise. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment to keep. I will see you the day after tomorrow.”

She watched him go as the reality of her situation sank in. Gabriel Trahan had caught her impersonating a widow. The truth of that statement began to sink in.

Caught her.

The childhood friend who had trained in medicine at Tulane University spied her from beneath the disguise of her widow’s veil and
caught her.

Sadie looked down at the handkerchief in her hand, at the doctor’s initials stitched in bold letters on a corner of the linen square. A Pinkerton agent bested by an amateur. Her fingers shook.

“Is this seat taken?”

Her gaze lifted to find Henry standing there. Relief shot through her.

“Please do sit,” she said as she folded the handkerchief and put it away. “I’m very glad to see you, sir.”

“Because you’ve been discovered by someone who recognized you?” Henry asked as he lowered himself onto the chair Gabriel had only just vacated.

“How did you know?”

“An agent of mine does not smile sweetly at an intruder, Miss Callum. And considering I have been waiting for more than five minutes to find you alone, your unexpected visitor would be classified as an intruder. Unless the man was expected.”

“No,” she hurried to say. “He was not, although you are correct in assuming he is no stranger.”

“No?” Henry waved away the waiter. “Who is he?”

“A childhood friend.” She pushed the plate of beignets in Henry’s direction, but he waved them away as well. “His name is Gabriel Trahan. He is newly conferred with the degree of medical doctor from Tulane and was anxious to tell me about it.”

“I see.” His gaze swept her person. “And did he indicate surprise that his old friend was a widow?”

“I believe I explained the situation to his satisfaction.” At Henry’s raised brows, she continued. “No, sir, I did not tell him I was meeting someone. I merely said I wished some privacy, and donning a costume seemed to be the best way to achieve that.”

“And you’re certain he believed you?”

“I think so. However, my mother has invited him for dinner on Thursday, and I promised a walk after the meal in exchange for his discretion in not mentioning he had seen me today.”

“So seeing him here was just a coincidence. How convenient.”

A Pinkerton did not believe in coincidence. How many times had Henry told her this? Either he was showing a rare instance of sarcasm, or he had changed his philosophy on human nature. Neither seemed likely.

Sadie was about to comment on this when he lifted his index finger to tap his chin, the signal for silence. She glanced around carefully, not seeing any reason for concern, but kept quiet.

Finally Henry looked her way once more. “Miss Callum, why exactly are you so interested in regaining the Astor case?”

Not the question she expected, and yet one easily answered. “It’s a fascinating case, sir. Between the accusations Mrs. Astor is making regarding her Rembrandt and the possibility that, if those accusations are proven true, other works of art could be involved causes the mind to reel. This is a case that could involve the British Museum and perhaps several other entities. And, as you may know, I am a student of the arts thanks to the stodgy finishing school Mama insisted on and my time at the institute in Chicago.”

“All this I know. Tell me what I don’t know.”

She thought a moment. “Imitation is not merely the sincerest form of flattery but also a profitable business among thieves of antiquities. Aren’t you the least bit curious whether this Rembrandt is the tip of an iceberg that could rock the art world?”

“Could it?”

She leaned in, impassioned by the topic and yet acutely aware she must not draw attention to their conversation. “The British Museum believes someone is selling antiquities that have come directly from their archaeological site in Iraq. The items that have been found were a mix of the genuine article and the forged. Could that same someone also be selling other items? One dealer’s name continues to appear. He sold Mrs. Astor her Rembrandt. I think the matter is worthy of investigation.”

“That’s a nice speech, Miss Callum.”

He removed his spectacles, cleaned them with his handkerchief, and then returned them to his nose. His attention, however, remained on the square of cloth in his hand.

“Sir, my response was not intended to be nice but rather to indicate the passion I feel for the subject. I want this case, and sooner rather than later. If too much time passes—”

“Yes, I am aware of what can happen if we allow further time to lapse.” He folded the handkerchief and returned it to his pocket. “And that is why I have agreed to allow Mrs. Astor her Pinkerton agent. However, there is a complication.”

“Something not already mentioned in the case documents?”

He nodded. “I’ve had a report that one of our more pressing cases may have overlapping facts.”

“Oh? Which one?”

Again he glanced around, but this time he did not give the signal for quiet. Instead, he met her gaze with a look that told Sadie he was most unhappy.

“The Tucker case.”

“What?”

His nod was almost imperceptible. “It seems that duplication exists in both the Astor and the Tucker cases, and that in neither have the victims been certain as to whether they were duped.”

Sadie sat back and regarded her employer with curiosity. “You’re speaking in riddles, sir.”

“These cases are riddles,” he said as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Or rather they have similar riddles at their core. You had
occasion to spend an amount of time with Mr. Tucker recently. What did you make of him?”

Unfortunately, her first thought was of their kisses. She firmly pushed the recollection aside. Then came the starry evening, the polite manners.

“I found him to be a gentleman in every way.”

His appraising look stalled at her eyes. “I am not asking whether he is able and qualified to fill your dance card, Miss Callum. I am asking your thoughts on his behavior.” He paused. “And whether he may have pulled off a trick under all our noses.”

“My answer would be the same, sir. His behavior was never untoward. In fact, he was kind and protective of me.”

She elected not to mention the efficient way he handled the swift exit of her brothers or the fact that he pawned a family heirloom in order to purchase weapons with which to offer that protection. Instead she said, “I must ask what trick you believe he may have pulled.”

“You are certain the man whose company you kept for those two days was indeed William
Jefferson
Tucker and not William
John
Tucker?”

“Sir, I’m not sure where you are going with this line of questioning. I am the one who testified as to the fact that the state of Louisiana had imprisoned the wrong man. So, yes, I am certain of his identity.”

“Bear with me, then, as I present an alternative scenario.” He beckoned the waiter to order a café au lait for both of them and then waited until the fellow had hurried away. “What you testified to was that the facts indicated the man who was behind bars was not the man who originally should have been put there.”

“Yes. The facts indicated that the Tucker who received the original sentence was indeed the Tucker who should have remained in jail. That someone took it upon themselves to listen to a man claiming his position had been switched by his twin is ludicrous.”

“Is it?”

The question stalled her. “Yes, of course,” she finally said. “The evidence is clear.”

“Tell me what is clear about it.”

“In essence, John Tucker’s eyes are gray but tend to green, and Jefferson Tucker’s gray eyes tend to blue. Every woman duped by Tucker, except
for Miss McMinn, testified that the man had green or gray eyes. None claimed his eyes were blue.”

“His eye color was the basis for your testimony?”

“That is something women notice, sir, and it is certainly something that cannot be changed.” She shrugged. “Of course, there were other things, such as the fact that Jefferson was a man whose abilities as an officer with Scotland Yard were above question. If he was guilty of impersonation and was indeed John, not Jefferson, why would he pay a visit to his brother if he suspected his brother would cry foul and have him arrested?”

Henry’s expression never changed. “I would have you answer your own question. Why would a guilty man return to the scene of the crime, as it were?”

“Are you speaking in generalities? Or are you asking me to comment specifically on the Tucker twins?”

“Start with generalities.”

She gave the matter some thought as the waiter returned with their steaming coffees and then departed again. Though her study of the criminal mind was most incomplete, she had learned a thing or two about human nature during the four years she had worked as a Pinkerton agent.

She called on that experience now as she formulated a response. “In general, that sort of behavior would come from someone who has something to prove. One twin who has been bested by the other and then returns to gloat.”

“Is that all?” he said as he lifted his cup to take a careful sip of coffee.