Heart of Lies Read online

  By the time Maddie reached Baton Rouge, it was hard to imagine Penelope could have come all this way alone, but with the Pinkerton on her trail, she refused to give up. She’d reached the banks of the Mississippi again, and this time she would have to cross the river to Kentucky. But she had no fare money, no matter how small the fee. She was out of food, filthy, and so saddle sore she could barely walk. She couldn’t keep going without supplies.

  Although larger than any of the country towns she’d been through, Baton Rouge was smaller than New Orleans. Nothing she had learned about surviving on the streets of New Orleans would serve her here. There were far fewer people crowded together, far fewer pockets to pick. Even the city market was nowhere near crowded enough for her to get away with stealing food.

  Weighing her options, she walked Tom’s horse down St. Philip Street, passing a burned-out ruin that she was told was the Louisiana state capitol building. It had been lying in a heap since the war. She rode on until she came to the Louisian Hotel at the corner of Lafayette and Main. The ferry landing was across the street from the hotel’s back entrance. She hitched her horse and carried her saddlebag as she went to talk to the ferryman. If Penelope had boarded, perhaps he had noticed her.

  Before the near toothless gent answered her query, he squinted into the afternoon sun on the western side of the Mississippi and hiked up his pants.

  “A child, you say?”

  “An eight-year-old. About this high.” Maddie held out her hand. “Black hair, talkative. Pretty.”

  “By herself, you say?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  He looked Maddie up and down so thoroughly she wanted to squirm. She tried not to let his stare unnerve her.

  “Runaway, you say?”

  “Yes,” she nodded. “I’m her aunt.”

  “There’s always people through here with children. Two days ago some folks had a passel of young’ins with ‘em. Couldn’t tell one from another.”

  If Penelope had gotten this far, she must have had help. She was certainly cagey enough to talk her way into traveling with a family headed in the right direction.

  “How much to carry me and my horse to the other side?” It wasn’t a small thing, crossing to the other side of the Mississippi. She’d lived on its banks all of her life yet never crossed. It appeared as wide as the ocean.

  He named a price that was next to nothing but far more than she had.

  “Could you make it half?” She knew how she must look by now. She didn’t have to pretend to be pitiful.

  “Sorry.” He spat again. “It ain’t all that much and this ain’t no charity. Come back when you got the money. I don’t expect it will take your type long to earn it.”

  Insulted, she trudged over to the Louisian where she’d left her horse, ignoring passersby long enough to splash water from the horse trough on her face, wash her hands, and tidy up as best she could.

  She sighed and wished she’d never heard of Penelope Perkins or Tom Abbott. All she knew how to do was steal. She had no idea how to go about finding honest work, but trying was better than risking time in jail in the middle of nowhere. She smoothed her hair and walked up to the back door of the hotel.

  Tom rode the Russo woman’s old nag for a day and a half before the horse went lame and he was forced to walk through the middle of nowhere until it grew dark. He camped out and the next morning came upon a house where a planter offered to sell him a horse at twice its value. There was nothing he could do but dig into his stash of money tucked inside a hidden pocket in his coat. The expense would go on the Perkins’s account when he found the girl—and find her he would.

  He ran into enough people in small towns along the road to know Maddie hadn’t turned back yet. Then he met a trader in Parkville who told him she had asked for directions to Kentucky.

  “I was sending her off with her nanny to Paducah to stay with my wife’s sister, Gail.”

  So Maddie thought the child was headed for Kentucky. Tom was forced to make a choice; return to New Orleans or keep trailing her. If by chance Penelope had somehow found her way home to Langetree already, then she was safe. But if Penelope was still on the run and Maddie was tracking her, then there was every chance he could find them together.

  CHAPTER 16

  After two days of washing bedding and scrubbing and polishing everything from silver to woodwork, Maddie was convinced picking pockets was a whole lot easier than earning an honest wage. Her hands were raw and every muscle ached. Her legs were tired and her feet swollen. When she wasn’t working, she was walking the streets of Baton Rouge hoping to catch a glimpse of Penelope somewhere. She checked with the ferryman morning and night, and at the end of the day she fell into bed exhausted enough to keep her nightmare at bay.

  She had a small room with a cot tucked under the stairs and had been given a starched white blouse, plain black skirt, and a mop cap by the hotel manager. By the end of the week, she would have enough money put by to purchase supplies and outfit herself for the journey.

  As she hurried through the back rooms of the first floor with an armload of freshly ironed sheets, she paused near the back stairs unnoticed. She shifted the load and waited patiently while a heavy-bosomed woman argued with a mustachioed man.

  A traveling troupe of actors had recently arrived and were camped a few blocks away, living in their brightly painted caravans near the cemetery. The owner of the Louisian had agreed to let them perform in the main dining room for a percentage of the door and the actors were constantly underfoot. Whenever Maddie tried to negotiate the huge kitchen, laundry room, or pantry in the back of the hotel, one of the actors or stagehands was in her way. Tonight was opening night and tensions were high.

  Arabella the Magnificent, billed as “The Star of the Show and the Queen of the Boards,” was arguing with Hammond Cutter, proprietor, director, and lead actor of the Phoenix Rising Theatre Troupe.

  “I’m telling you, Hammond,” Arabella shrilled. “She is constantly upstaging me at every turn.” Arabella’s voice rose an octave at the end of every sentence.

  Cutter, whose only claim to fame was that he had been an understudy at the Ford Theatre the night Lincoln was assassinated, heaved a melodramatic sigh. “Darling, she only has a few lines. I don’t know how she could possibly upstage you.”

  “Well, I want her gone before the curtain opens tonight.”

  “Our take has risen tenfold since we added her to the production.”

  “Some things just aren’t worth it. You put her in her place or I will.”

  “How about we run through the first act again. Shall we?”

  As soon as they walked into the dining room and launched back into rehearsal, Maddie scooted out of the shadows and went upstairs.

  The scene reminded her of Dexter, who’d thought himself an accomplished thespian and coached the children in singing and dancing. Those blessed with a little talent performed on street corners, and as soon as a crowd gathered, the other children stationed on the outskirts started relieving the unsuspecting audience members of diamond bracelets, gold watches, coins, and jewelry tucked on their persons.

  She shook off a bout of melancholy, completed cleaning two rooms, and was headed down the hall when Steven Williams, the young hotel manager who’d hired her, appeared at the top of the landing.

  “Maddie. Just the one I’m looking for.”

  Steven was in his mid-twenties with light hair and blue eyes. His hands were soft, his fingers long and thin. As he walked toward her, he nervously adjusted his cravat.

  “Is there something you’d like me to do?” She sensed he might be sweet on her and had done her best not to encourage him.

  “Are you going to attend the production tonight?”

  “You mean the show?”

  “Yes. In the hall.”

  She shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

  She wasn’t about to waste even a penny of her hard-earned money, no matter how much she’d like to see what the fus
s was all about. Though New Orleans had claimed some of the finest opera houses in the country before the war, the closest she’d ever come to the theatre was working the crowds as they exited.

  “I’d be happy to escort you.” He hooked his thumbs in his waistband and rolled onto the balls of his feet before settling back on his heels. “As management, I was given two complementary tickets.”

  She started to decline, then paused. Williams hadn’t disguised the fact that he was smitten, but she knew how to handle herself should he make any unwanted advances. What harm could there be in accepting his invitation? It would be a far cry better than sitting alone in her small cubicle.

  “Why, thank you, kindly, Mr. Williams. I’d be happy to be your guest.”

  His smile was as wide as the Mississippi as he hurried back downstairs. Maddie watched him go. For the first time in a long while she found herself with something to look forward to.

  There was standing room only in the crowded dining room of the Louisian Hotel. Dinner guests remained seated at their tables. Extra chairs were peppered around the room in every available space. The lights were low except for a semicircle of lamps on the floor surrounding a makeshift stage area. Plush velvet curtains were suspended on a wide, thick pole across the back of the room.

  Tom walked in and kept to the shadows as he slowly scanned the room.

  He had arrived in town a couple of hours before dark and described Maddie in a few of the establishments along Main Street. It wasn’t until he inquired at the river crossing that the ferryman said a woman fitting her description was working at the Louisian.

  The lobby was deserted when he walked in. He followed the sound of the crowd to the dining room where a show was about to begin. He scanned the room but didn’t see Maddie anywhere. The theatre production would be enough of a diversion for him to slip into the back of the hotel and search the kitchen and workrooms. Biding his time, he folded his arms and leaned against the wall near the door, ready to walk out as soon as the makeshift curtain opened.

  Then he spotted Madeline seated beside a young man with wavy blond hair. The gent was unable to take his eyes off Maddie.

  Though she didn’t appear to be paying him any mind, a wave of unbridled jealousy hit Tom with the force of a runaway wagon. As he watched Maddie with his pulse pounding erratically, all he could think was that it should be him sitting beside her. He should be the one smiling down at her. Most of all, she shouldn’t be a thief and a kidnapper.

  The gas lights were lowered, which made the lamps surrounding the stage seem to glow brighter. He watched Maddie, ignoring the players as they entered. He paid no attention to what they were saying. He didn’t care. When he finally looked at the stage, he saw a very tall, dark-haired man in a Georgian costume complete with white stockings, satin knee-length pants, and high-heeled shoes competing with a tall, lushly built woman dressed like Marie Antoinette. They were hopelessly melodramatic as they wrestled with the lines of an obviously amateur piece.

  During the second act a child actress stepped out from the wings. She had a commanding presence despite a lack of lines, a ridiculously frilly milkmaid’s costume, and an overly large red wig that made her appear as if her head was on fire. Sporting two spots of rouge on her cheeks, the little girl pranced over to an upended barrel on the left side of the stage and made a dramatic pause beside it. She rolled her eyes, leaned an elbow on the barrel, then rested her chin on her hand. As the lead actress continued to shout out her lines, the child tapped her toe impatiently and winked at the audience.

  Giggles and muffled laughter rippled through the crowd. Tom couldn’t help but smile until he realized the ridiculous wig and makeup did not hide the child’s identity. He glanced over at Maddie but she wasn’t laughing like everyone else. She had scooted to the edge of her seat and leaned forward, her gaze locked on the stage. Even in the shadows of the large room, he could tell her face had lost all color.

  His gaze cut to where the girl was skipping slowly across the stage, still holding everyone’s attention. She stopped in front of the lead actress, planted her hands on her waist, looked up, and shouted her lines.

  “Alas! You dare speak ill of me? I’ll tell my father, you shrew. He will no doubt see you in chains!”

  Tom looked back at Maddie. She sat spellbound.

  The act ended, and the audience broke into thunderous applause. Someone was fumbling behind the curtain, trying to close it, but the fabric was caught. The actors all held their places, waiting.

  Maddie jumped to her feet and tried to move toward the stage, but she was hemmed in by those seated around her. Suddenly the child actress let out a high-pitched squeal. “Help! Somebody save me!”

  The girl darted past the red velvet curtain and through a side door.

  The audience, assuming it was all part of the performance, watched as Maddie pushed through and ran after her. Tom also tried to shove his way through the crowd, but by now everyone was on their feet, rushing out of the room to watch the unfolding drama.

  Breathless, Maddie tried to shake off the shock of seeing Penelope walk out on stage. As she ran through the hotel pantry, she caught sight of the girl’s bright-red wig and chased her through the kitchen. Penelope zigged. Maddie zagged and nearly knocked over one of the two cooks who stopped what they were doing as she barreled past.

  If Penelope made it through the back door, Maddie feared she’d never catch her. Penelope banged through the door with Maddie on her heels. As she gained on the girl, she lunged … and was left holding nothing but a handful of wig. She tossed it aside, cleared the steps, and this time when she reached Penelope, she grabbed the girl’s upper arm.

  Penelope started screaming at the top of her lungs. “Let go of me! She’s trying to kill me! Let me go!”

  Hammond Cutter was the first to reach them, oblivious of the crowd behind him. Not only the cooks, but the rest of the staff, followed by the cast and half of the audience, streamed through the back door.

  “Unhand her, woman! She’s the star of my show,” Hammond yelled at Maddie.

  “She’s my niece. I’ve been looking all over for her.”

  Penelope tried to twist out of her grip. “Let go of me! I am not your niece, you kidnapper, you.”

  “Don’t be silly, Penelope, honey.” Maddie turned to Hammond. “She’s just scared. She’s in a heap of trouble for running away.”

  Maddie leaned close until she was nose to nose with Penelope. “Just settle down and come with Auntie like a good girl. I’m going to take you home to your mama.”

  Hammond grabbed hold of Penelope’s other arm and a tug-of-war commenced.

  Penelope dug in her heels as Maddie tried to pull her away. “She’s not going to take me home. She’s going to kill me!” Penelope glared at Maddie. “You’re gonna skin me and hang me on a clothesline like you do those nasty rat-tailed varmints of yours.”

  Hammond suddenly let go. Momentum propelled Penelope toward Maddie.

  “So you do know this woman?”

  “No!”

  “Like I said, she’s my niece,” Maddie said, calmer now that she had a tight grip on the girl. She smiled up at Hammond Cutter, whose face was coated with an inch of grease paint. Kohl encircled his eyes. Seeing him up close made it hard to concentrate.

  “She ran away and I’ve been searching for her,” she said.

  “I am not her niece. She’s a liar, Mr. Cutter. She kidnapped me. Her and her evil twin brothers.”

  Maddie’s hand tightened on Penelope’s arm, and she forced a high laughing trill. “Evil twin brothers. Such an imagination. She’s quite the actress, as you know, Mr. Cutter.” She looked down at Penelope and shook her head. “How many times have I told you not to lie, honey?”

  “You’re lying!” Penelope raised her foot, and Maddie moved her own in time to keep from being stomped on.

  “Someone should get the sheriff.” Steven Williams stepped out from the crowd. “This woman is Maddie Grande. She’s been working here
for the last three days.” He leaned closer. “You never mentioned a missing niece, Maddie.”

  She whispered back, “I needed money to continue my search —”

  Maddie could see Williams wanted to believe her; that much was crystal clear. She batted her eyes. He cleared his throat and tugged his collar away from his Adam’s apple.

  Another man was pushing his way through the crowd. Maddie recognized his hat first, and then he parted the two cooks who had been flanking Maddie like bookends. He stepped between them, tall, dark, and furious.

  Maddie groaned. Tom Abbott had finally found her. And Penelope.

  I’m a Pinkerton from New Orleans.” Tom flashed his badge at Williams and Cutter. “I’m taking Miss Grande into custody and returning this child to her parents.”

  “You are not!” Penelope kicked and twisted.

  Maddie said, “He’s not a Pinkerton. He means to kidnap my niece.”

  Tom watched in amazement as Maddie reached for the hem of her skirt and used it to dab at her eyes. She was as consummate an actress as the Perkins girl. When she looked up, tears actually sparkled on the tips of her lashes.

  Hammond Cutter stepped forward. “Hold on, mister. How do I know you’re who you say you are? Anybody can sport a tin badge.”

  Maddie looked so bereft, Tom almost believed her himself.

  “Is there somewhere we can all go and straighten this out in private?” Tom asked Hammond.

  “You cannot do this to me!” Penelope was at it again. With Maddie still clinging to one arm, the child grabbed Hammond’s pant leg.

  “Please, please, please don’t let them take me. Please! I was born to act. You said so!”

  Behind Tom someone whispered, “This is a lot better than the two acts we saw inside.”

  By that time Arabella the Magnificent, trailing a flotilla of perfume and male admirers, had made her way into the center of the crowd encircling the unfolding drama. “Let them have her, Hammond. We don’t need her.” Arabella looked down her nose at Penelope. The child started wailing in earnest.