Chapter 8 - What Josiah’s Wife Knew Before She Died
Evelyn did not answer Margaret immediately.
The word hung between them.
Mama.
Josiah looked as though someone had struck him.
Not with anger.
With memory.
Evelyn knelt.
“You had a mama.”
Margaret’s little face tightened.
“I know.”
The second sentence came easier than the first.
Evelyn glanced at Josiah.
He was crying again.
Quietly.
Margaret continued.
“Mama gone.”
“Yes.”
Evelyn’s voice trembled.
“She loved you very much.”
The girl nodded.
Then touched Evelyn’s cheek.
“You stay-mama.”
Evelyn broke.
She pulled Margaret into her arms.
Abigail joined them.
Josiah turned toward the window.
Samuel suddenly found legal papers fascinating.
Later, Josiah sat alone in Clara’s room.
Evelyn found him holding the old photograph from their wedding.
She hesitated.
“Should I leave?”
“No.”
She sat across from him.
He stared at Clara’s face.
“I thought hearing them call someone else that would destroy me.”
Evelyn’s chest tightened.
“I can tell them not to.”
“No.”
He looked up.
“It didn’t destroy me.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
“It made me grateful.”
Evelyn blinked back tears.
“They’re not replacing her.”
“I know.”
“They never could.”
“I know that too.”
He set the photograph down.
“Clara would have liked you.”
Evelyn laughed softly.
“You cannot possibly know that.”
“She hated people who pretended to be delicate.”
“Then yes. We might have managed.”
He smiled.
The warmth between them lasted until Samuel opened another packet from Boston.
Records connected Charles Wexler to several payments made by Percival.
The ledger from Kansas was genuine.
More disturbing was a repair invoice Samuel had obtained from the stable that serviced Clara’s carriage.
The carriage had undergone maintenance three days before the fatal accident.
The wheel was sound.
After the crash, investigators reported a failed wheel pin.
Samuel placed both papers on the desk.
“Someone tampered with it.”
Josiah’s face went white.
“Can you prove Percival did it?”
“No.”
“Abigail saw him.”
“A frightened child saw a man near a carriage. That’s meaningful, but we need more.”
Evelyn remembered Clara’s letter.
“She wrote that Abigail saw him taking papers.”
Samuel nodded.
“That helps with motive around the trust. Not murder.”
Evelyn looked toward Clara’s desk.
“What else did she know?”
The room became a puzzle.
They searched everything.
Books.
Letters.
Drawers.
Clara had hidden information before.
Perhaps more remained.
Evelyn found nothing until Margaret entered.
The child walked directly toward a piano bench.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
“No what?”
Margaret pointed.
“Mama said no touch.”
Josiah frowned.
“She said the piano bench was forbidden?”
Margaret nodded.
Evelyn opened it.
Sheet music.
Nothing else.
She removed the stack.
A wooden bottom remained.
Evelyn pressed.
It lifted.
Inside was a narrow bundle of letters.
Josiah sat heavily.
Clara had known.
For months before her death, she corresponded secretly with an investigator in Boston.
She suspected Percival was diverting funds from family companies and intended to use the girls’ trust to cover losses.
One letter referred to a witness.
Thomas Vale has agreed to testify if necessary. He fears Percival but fears prison more.
Samuel stood.
“I know that name.”
“Who is he?”
“Former Harrington accountant.”
“Where?”
“Last record puts him in St. Louis.”
Josiah was already reaching for his coat.
Samuel shook his head.
“You can’t leave before the hearing.”
“Then send someone.”
“I will.”
Evelyn continued reading.
The final letter had been written two days before Clara died.
I believe Percival knows I have spoken to Vale. He came to the house today and demanded I stop. Abigail overheard us. I told him if anything happened to me, Josiah would find everything. That was a lie. I have hidden the papers because I am afraid Josiah will confront him before I have proof.
Josiah lowered his head.
Evelyn sat beside him.
“She was protecting you.”
“I didn’t need protection.”
“Everyone says that until they do.”
He looked toward her.
“I spent fourteen months angry that she kept secrets.”
“She spent her last days afraid you would get hurt.”
Josiah closed his eyes.
“I wasted so much time being angry.”
“You were grieving.”
“I was angry at a dead woman.”
“So?”
He looked surprised.
Evelyn continued.
“Love does not make grief noble all the time. Sometimes grief is ugly.”
His expression softened.
“You know something about it.”
“My father stopped speaking much after my mother died. I hated him for it.”
“Hated him?”
“For a while.”
She shrugged.
“Then he died too, and I had to forgive both of us alone.”
Josiah reached for her hand.
They sat that way.
No arrangement.
No legal strategy.
Just two people surrounded by ghosts.
The investigator found Thomas Vale two days later.
He agreed to travel to Colorado.
For money?
Partly.
For protection?
Definitely.
But before he could board the train, Samuel received another telegram.
Vale had disappeared.
His room had been emptied.
Nobody knew where he had gone.
The hearing was forty-eight hours away.
That night Evelyn stood on the balcony.
Josiah joined her.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
Neither moved.
Finally Josiah said, “If I lose them…”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“But neither does Percival.”
Wind lifted her hair.
Josiah studied her.
“Why are you still here?”
The question startled her.
“Where would I go?”
“You have money now.”
“Your money.”
“Half of what is mine became legally yours when you married me.”
She stared.
“You didn’t mention that.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Josiah!”
He almost smiled.
“You could leave. Live comfortably.”
“And abandon the girls?”
“No.”
“Then why ask?”
His expression grew serious.
“Because I need to know.”
“Know what?”
“Whether this is still only an arrangement to you.”
Evelyn’s breath caught.
She looked away.
The answer frightened her.
Because the marriage had stopped feeling temporary.
The house had stopped feeling borrowed.
The girls were already lodged inside her heart.
And Josiah—
That was the dangerous part.
Before she could answer, a rider appeared on the road below.
He reached the house minutes later carrying a telegram.
Samuel tore it open.
His face changed.
Thomas Vale had been found.
Alive.
And he had sent one message.
I WILL TESTIFY, BUT PERCIVAL KNOWS THE WHITMORE WOMAN HAS THE LEDGER. KEEP HER SAFE.
Everyone looked at Evelyn.
May you like
The hearing was now the least dangerous thing approaching Whitmore House.
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