The bicycle ladies left and Mr. Blomberg rejoined them.
“I guess we have everything,” Tillie said, looking at the vast collection covering the counter and a table behind it.
Mr. Blomberg nodded. “It’ll take me a little while to pack all this up. Can you come back in a couple of hours?”
“Sure.” Mack took her elbow. “Thanks for your help, Louis. We’ll be back.”
“Happy to do it, Earl. It’s good to see you and your brother.”
Mack touched his hat, not bothering to correct the man, then led Tillie out the door.
“What about Earl?” she asked.
“He saw some friends and is going to wait here until it’s time to go home.”
She didn’t move.
He offered his arm. “Is the bookstore next?”
Sighing, she gave a longing glance at the mercantile, then took his arm. They strolled down the walkway in silence. Outside the barbershop an old-timer sat beside a couple of other gents, his face holding as many lines as the figure he was whittling. Mack gave him a nod, then continued past.
A fancy surrey with Noland-Brown Mortuary emblazoned on its door wheeled down the middle of the street. The turned-out driver in black suit and high celluloid collar looked neither left nor right, but kept his eyes trained on his high-stepping bay. Propped up in the rear seat was a distinguished-looking corpse with a neatly trimmed Vandyke beard and a jaunty hat perched atop his head.
Tillie ground to a halt. “Mack!”
“That’s the duke. He’s drumming up some business for the undertaker.”
She stood rooted, staring in shock. “Good heavens.”
He smiled. At least the surprise of the duke had jolted her out of her reserve.
“What were you doing at the orphanage last Sunday?” he asked.
“I’d wanted to see Homer, but he was taking a nap and wasn’t going to be finished until almost dark.” She glanced at him. “Doesn’t that seem like an awfully long nap?”
“My guess is he was wide awake and they just didn’t want you to see him.”
“But why not?”
“They don’t much care for visitors.”
She shook her head. “Oh, Mack. I wish you’d not be so judgmental about them. I’m sure they’re doing the best they can.”
“He beats the girls, Tillie. Why do you defend him?”
She looked up quickly. “You don’t know that.”
“Are you saying my sister is lying?”
She stopped. “She’s said that? She’s said those very words?”
“What? That Sloop beats them? Yes. And not only that, she has firsthand knowledge of it. That’s why she didn’t want to leave her friend. For some reason, he wouldn’t bother Irene while Ora Lou was around. But that won’t be the case now that she’s left.”
Tillie paled. “But it doesn’t make any sense. I mean, he’s gone to such lengths to make a home for the children.”
“I know. But facts are facts, and in my experience, men who abuse their power in one area often abuse it in others. I’m not only worried about Irene. I’m worried about all the rest of them, too.” What he didn’t mention was the concern he held for the older girls. He’d questioned Ora Lou as delicately as he could, and though he was certain the man had left his sister alone, he wasn’t as confident about Irene.
Someone jostled Mack from behind, prompting the two of them to continue toward the bookshop.
“If it’s really true,” she said, “then the police must be notified.”
“They have been. I went to them way back in August before I ever even started working at Biltmore.”
“What’d they say?”
“They didn’t believe me.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t suppose they would. They’ll have to hear it from someone more important than you or me.” She squeezed his arm. “Do you really think he locked that boy in the basement? The one who was supposed to share a room with Homer?”
“I do.”
“I just can’t believe it.” They stopped in front of Bedford’s Books. “We have to do something, Mack. We have to get Homer out of there.”
“I’ve gone over it a thousand times in my head, and I can’t think of a single thing to do for him or Irene.”
“I hate to think of them up there with a monster like that.”
“Me too.” He opened the shop door and waited while Tillie made her selections from the list. They were the only patrons in the shop, so he was able to watch her full-on without pretending he wasn’t. When her purchases were completed, he picked up the wrapped books, and they headed toward the lumberyard.
“You weren’t at the barn gathering,” he said.
They moved to the side to let another couple pass. When she didn’t answer, he tried again. “Was it because of the parlor games?”
“Partly.”
“What’s the other part?”
She looked down. “You know why, Mack.”
Deciding the middle of the walkway was not the best place to pursue the discussion, he let it go. But they were by no means finished with the subject.
CHAPTER
Twenty-three
Mack strode up a tree-bordered carriage road leading to great granite steps which fronted the home of Buncombe County’s state representative. Mack had not had a chance to stop in on his father’s friend since he’d started at Biltmore. But between the rumor he’d heard about Sloop running for office and the conditions he’d seen at the orphanage, a visit could no longer be put off.
A footman Mack didn’t recognize opened the door. He was fairly young and had a chin which went on forever. He looked Mack up and down. “Deliveries go to the back.”
He started to close the door, but Mack wedged a foot into the opening. “I’m here to see Leonard Vaughan.”
The servant pinched his lips together. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”
Mack shoved the door open, forcing the servant back, and stepped inside. A corridor with marble busts, a grandfather clock, two side chairs, and a gas chandelier led to the home’s interior.
“You tell him Mackenzie Danver is here. Where do you want me to wait?”
“I’ll do nothing of the kind. Now – ”
Mack squared his shoulders and took a step forward. “You have to the count of five. Then I’ll go find him myself.”
The footman straightened his spine. “Over my dead body.”
“Have it your way.” Mack pushed his way past and followed the sounds of quiet conversation and clinking glasses.
“Here! How dare you!” The footman grabbed his arm.
Mack checked his stride. “I wouldn’t advise it. Valuables will break in the scuffle, and your master will be displeased about you refusing entrance to the son of his best friend.”
They eyeballed each other. The footman let go, then pointed to a chair in the entryway. “There.”
Mack sat. The moment the footman disappeared through a side door, Mack jumped back up and headed down the vast hallway. If he didn’t find Mr. Vaughan fast, the servant would return with more footmen – the biggest and the meanest.
He found the representative and his family in the dining room. It was just as he remembered. Though a tiny fraction of the size of Vanderbilt’s banquet hall, it was no less opulent. Gilded walls, marble fireplace, thronelike chairs, and stuffed footrests he and Earl had used for pillow fights a lifetime ago.
For a split second, everyone in the room stared at Mack. Mr. and Mrs. Vaughan, their two daughters who’d blossomed into young ladies, and three liveried footmen.
Mack whipped off his hat. “Forgive the intrusion, Mr. Vaughan, but I – ”
The footmen sprang to life and immediately caught Mack’s arms. He tried to throw them off but could not.
“Stop!” Mr. Vaughan’s sharp command caused all to freeze as if they were playing a game of Statues in the parlor. “It’s all right. Mr. Danver is a friend.”
The footmen released him and Mack tugged his jac
ket into place.
“Phillip, bring another plate, please.”
Mack shook his head. “No, sir. I couldn’t intrude. I’ll just wait until you’re done with your meal.”
“Nonsense.”
“I insist.” He nodded to Mrs. Vaughan and the girls. “Please forgive me. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”
“We won’t be much longer, Mr. Danver.” The lady of the house, with a warm expression, turned to a waiter. “Show him to the smoking room, Phillip.”
Mack stepped into the hallway, anticipation running high at the prospect of entering the smoking room again.
The footman lit three lanterns while Mack stood at the threshold, breathing deeply, enjoying the smell of cigars which clung to the room. A series of images flashed through his mind. His father and Mr. Vaughan surrounded by the leather wall coverings and animal trophies, playing chess at the game table, reclining in the angular armchairs, debating politics over brandy and cigars.
He crossed to the bookshelves to peruse the volumes lined up according to height and color. He’d spent many an hour in this room as a boy – and paid much more attention to the older men’s discussions than they’d realized.
“May I pour you a brandy, sir?”
Mack glanced at the footman. “No, thank you. And I’m sorry about that out there. I know you were just doing your job.”
“Sir.” Remaining expressionless, the footman backed out of the room.
Moments later, Leonard Vaughan joined him, arm outstretched. “What a wonderful surprise.”
Mack clasped his hand. “I’m sorry to have intruded on a Sunday, and in such an abrupt way, but it’s my only day off.”
“I was happy for an excuse to retire. The women have been talking of nothing but ball gowns and boys. It’s enough to drive a man mad.”
“They’ve certainly grown up.”
“It’s a bit astounding, isn’t it? Even to me.” Chuckling, he moved to the brandy decanter and splashed brandy into two crystal glasses, then handed one to Mack. “Have a seat and tell me how things are progressing.”
Sinking into a brown leather chair, Mack told him of his job at Biltmore. Of Ora Lou’s trials at the orphanage. Of Homer’s heartrending arrival. Of the squalor. The beatings. The locking-up in the basement. The sparseness of the rooms. And, last, of the fears he held for the older girls.
Vaughan leaned back with legs crossed, elbow on an armrest, his mouth resting on his fist. “Are you sure? As you requested, I myself have been by. The parlor was pristine, as well as Sloop’s study. The children looked like what you’d expect.”
“Did you venture into the back areas or upstairs? Talk to any of the children without Sloop present?”
“I did not.”
Mack didn’t say anything.
Vaughan pinched the bridge of his nose. “So what are you suggesting?”
“That Sloop dresses pretty well for an orphanage director.”
Vaughan slowly lowered his hand. “You think he’s embezzling funds?”
“I don’t know. What if we raided the place? Confiscated the ledgers? It’d be pretty clear then what was going on.”
“The police would never go along with that. Nor would the townsfolk. Sloop’s a hero in their eyes. And with him running against me in the election now, I can’t make any accusations without it looking like sour grapes – particularly when I have no proof.”
Setting the brandy on the table beside him, Mack voiced what he’d been thinking for a while now. “He needs to be replaced. The only way to completely secure the children’s safety is to oust Sloop. But I have no idea who would be willing to take the directorship on. I was hoping maybe you would.”
Swinging his foot, Vaughan pursed his lips. “What about you?”
Mack stilled. “Me?”
“Why not?”
“Because, I, well, I wouldn’t know the first thing about taking care of all those kids.”
“Of course you would. You’ve been taking care of your siblings since your father died.”
“But that’s different. I had Ma’s help. And then Ora Lou’s. Besides, I was planning to build furniture for a living.”
“Why?”
He blinked. “Why?”
“Yes. Do you have some grand passion for building furniture?”
“Not at all. It just happens to be the only way I can make a living while simultaneously living on the mountain. Which is another thing – I don’t want to live in town.”
“What about your brothers?”
“What about them?”
“You just told me watching that boy’s father drop him off made you realize leaving Ikey, Otis, and John-John with other families was not the best decision you’d ever made.” Breathing deeply, Vaughan looked Mack in the eye. “If you were director of the orphanage, you could go get them and bring them back. Then you’d all be together again.”
The idea was so new, so far outside the plans he had, he could hardly even think. “What about living on the mountain?”
Vaughan uncrossed his legs. “You’d have to give that up.”
Mack pulled back. “It’s my home. I think about it all the time. It’s the only place where I have enough room to expand, be my own man . . .” He shrugged. “Breathe.”
His father’s friend said nothing. And even as Mack said the words, he knew how selfish they sounded. Would he leave Homer, Irene, any of them, to Sloop simply because he wanted elbow room? And what about his own brothers?
He dragged a hand down his face. “I need to think. Pray.
Can I get back to you on it?”
“Of course.”
They sat in silence as Mack continued to gather his equilibrium. “Do you even think I have a chance at it? Why would they replace Sloop with some highlander like me?”
“Because even though the chief and Sloop are close friends, when the cards are down, the chief is a good, honest man. He won’t take the welfare of those kids lightly – orphans or no.” Vaughan swirled the brandy in his glass. “No, the biggest hurdle I see is you aren’t married. Right?”
“Not yet.”
He raised his brows. “You’ve someone in mind?”
“She’s a maid at Biltmore. Right now, she’s a bit resistant to the idea of leaving. I expect her to come around, though.”
“Well, directors have to be married. How long before she’ll agree, do you think?”
“I don’t know.”
Finishing off his drink, Vaughan set the glass down. “Well, see what you can do to speed that up. Meanwhile, we need someone to keep a closer eye on Sloop.” He shifted his gaze to a corner of the room and stared unseeing at a collection of antique firearms inside a glass case. “What if in the interim, I arranged for you to be a useful man at the orphanage?”
Mack straightened. “Do you think you could?”
“I know I could. The building is an eyesore, and I made sure it was discussed at length at the last county meeting, though mostly because I’ve been trying to draw attention to the place since you and I talked back in August.”
“Sloop would never agree to having me there.”
“Sloop won’t have a choice. We appoint the positions, not him. We can’t pay you anything near what you’re making at Biltmore, though.”
“That’s all right. Now that Ora Lou has work, it’s eased much of the burden. And if this really happens and the boys can join me, well, then, I don’t really need the kind of income I make there.”
Vaughan nodded. “I’ll get the ball rolling first thing tomorrow. When’s your next day off?”
“Two weeks from today.”
“Come back then. But this time, I insist you join us for dinner.”
Mack stood. “Thank you, sir.”
“My pleasure. Now, tell me what you’ve done with Ora Lou.”
“She’s at Mrs. Getty’s Boarding House and does scullery at the New York Café.”
“Well, you bring her and your little lady along to dinner, as wel
l.”
“I’ll do my best, sir, and thank you again.”
“I won’t allow it. Absolutely not.”
Vaughan sat in the parlor of the orphanage with Chief Pilkerton and watched Sloop pace, his eyes furious, his cheeks mottled.
“The man broke my nose, Zachary. You can’t seriously expect me to have him underfoot all the time.”
Pilkerton held up his hands. “There’s nothing I can do, Forbus. The council appointed the position.”
“Under whose recommendation?”
Vaughan leaned back in his chair. “Mine.”
Sloop seared him with his gaze. “Why?”
“Because I’ve known him since he was a boy, and he’s as fine a man as they come.”
“He broke my nose!”
“Which I find very troubling – particularly since I know Mackenzie to be a bit overprotective of the underdog. Just what was it you did, I wonder, to provoke such a reaction out of him, Mr. Sloop?”
The director exploded. “How should I know? The man’s a loose cannon.”
“Perhaps we should invite him and his sister here to tell the three of us just exactly what that fight was about.”
A touch of caution entered Sloop’s eye.
“What was it about?” the chief asked. “Vaughan claims Danver was protecting his sister.”
“Preposterous! Do you see what I mean? The man’s touched.” Sloop tapped the side of his head as if to demonstrate Mack’s lack of mental capabilities.
“Either way, there’s nothing you or I can do.” Pilkerton sighed. “The council has appointed Danver useful man for the orphanage. But he’ll be under your authority, Forbus. I did see to that.”
Though Sloop was still clearly upset, the idea of having Mack under his thumb mollified him somewhat.
Rising, Vaughan shook Sloop’s hand. “I have another appointment at the moment, but next time I believe I’d like a tour of the back portion of the facilities.”
Sloop sputtered and started to protest.
Vaughan quickly put on his hat, cutting the director off. “Good day, Sloop. I’ll be in touch.”
CHAPTER
Twenty-four
Tillie wrapped a piece of twine around a bouquet of tea roses and maidenhair fern. Bringing it to her nose, she inhaled, the aroma reminding her of a freshly opened box of the choicest tea.