Lorna Seilstad Read online

Page 11


  “Cedric, I’m keeping the Calloway case. I understand securing the Farmers Insurance Company as a client would be a nice feather in your cap, but they are not yet our clients, and therefore, I see no conflict of interest that would make me give up representing Walt.”

  “Why do you care? He’s an arsonist.” Cedric pounced on the last word.

  “He’s accused of arson. Counselor, you should know better.” Lincoln moved to the fireplace and set another log on the grate. It popped and snapped, sending sparks into the air.

  “You realize you’re about to lose the firm a great deal of money because that pretty Gregory girl batted her eyes in your direction.”

  “Leave Miss Gregory out of this.” He turned to Cedric. “Walt Calloway is in need of representation, and I agreed to do it. Unlike some people, I keep my word.” He paused to let the words deliver their intended sting. “Now, if that’s all, I’d like to eat my dinner.”

  “We’re not finished until you agree to let the case go.” Cedric tossed his cigar butt into the fireplace. “I’ll take this to Charles if I need to.”

  Lincoln stiffened at the mention of Charles Harlington, the other senior partner in the Williams and Harlington Law Firm. While Pete had mentored Lincoln, Cedric had been brought to the firm by Charles, and the senior partner had come to Cedric’s aid on more than one occasion.

  Lincoln met Cedric’s stare and held it until the man looked away. Good. He’d won that battle. Cedric couldn’t know that the threat concerned him. He had an uncanny ability to grab on to a man’s weakness. Like a snake whose fangs sank into fresh prey, he’d hold on to the weakness until the victim succumbed. Besides, would Charles intervene in something like this? And if he did, would Pete stand up for Lincoln’s decision? What would Hannah say if he were forced to abandon Walt’s case?

  Lincoln followed his colleague to the door. “I’d say we should do this again, but you and I both know the truth. We’re like oil and water, but we should try to work together for the good of the firm.”

  “Now you care about the good of the firm?” Cedric snorted. “If you really feel that way, then you’ll turn the Calloway case over to someone else. We can all make a lot of money from a client like Farmers Insurance.”

  “Some things are more important than money.”

  Cedric opened the front door. “Not many—and certainly not a woman like Miss Gregory. She has no connections and no money. I find it hard to fathom why you’re even considering fighting me over this insignificant case.”

  “I said to leave her out of this.” Red-hot anger flared in Lincoln’s chest, and he had to clench his fists at his side. “I’m representing Walt. End of discussion.”

  He slammed the door behind the conniving, unprincipled man. It had been a long time since anyone had made him that angry, but his front door didn’t deserve his wrath. At least it was better than slamming his fist into Cedric’s ugly face.

  Hannah sipped the heavenly brew from her favorite china cup and let it awaken her from the inside out. Only one week and four days left of operators’ school, and it couldn’t come soon enough. She’d followed all of the rules, but having to spend time with Lincoln while working on Walt’s defense worried her a great deal. Along with that, irritation at two of her classmates’ petty jealousy was taking the joy out of her days.

  She yawned. All the other things going on were robbing her of sleep as well. Last night, her concerns about Charlotte and George, Walt and his lies, and her future as an operator rattled around in her mind. And to make matters worse, Lincoln’s face kept appearing.

  She’d not made a fuss about Charlotte and the young man keeping company on the porch. After all, she was the one who’d been late getting home, and Tessa had been there. Even though something about George bothered Hannah, she’d agreed to Charlotte attending the box social with him. Hannah couldn’t pin down her concern any more than she could grab the steam coming from her coffee cup, but it was there all the same.

  Another sip sent a fresh wave of pleasure through her. Coffee had to be one of God’s greatest gifts to humankind. She’d heard both coffee and tea were offered free of charge to the operators at the Iowa Telephone Company, along with rolls. Butter, of course, was extra. What a treat that would be when she became a full-fledged operator!

  “Hannah, Rosie’s here!” Tessa bellowed from the parlor.

  After washing down her last two bites of toast with the rest of the coffee in her cup, Hannah hurried to meet her friend at the door. Charlotte and Tessa were there too, slipping into their wraps.

  “Girls,” Hannah said, “I may be late again. I need to go back into the city to see Mr. Cole.”

  “Can’t you call him on the telephone?” Tessa huffed as she picked up her books from a table by the door. “You do know how to work one.”

  Hannah scowled at her. “We need to work on Walt’s defense.”

  “And Mr. Cole needs your help to do that? What kind of lawyer is he?”

  “Tessa, we’d better get out of here before Hannah gives you a week’s worth of extra chores.” Charlotte pushed her little sister out the door.

  Hannah could still hear Tessa on the porch. “I know what kind of lawyer he is,” Tessa said. “He’s a very handsome one. Handsomer than your George, that’s for sure.”

  Rosie laughed. “There’s never a dull moment here, is there? I wish I had two sisters.”

  “Well.” Hannah linked her arm with Rosie’s when they stepped onto the porch. She raised her voice. “I may have a deal for you. Two sisters for sale. Very cheap.”

  “I heard that!” Tessa called back.

  By the time they neared the operators’ school, Hannah had filled Rosie in on Walt’s situation. Rosie seemed especially interested in the part about Lincoln believing she and Walt were a couple.

  “You set him straight, right?” Rosie held open the door to the school.

  “Yes, but I’m not sure he was convinced. I’m not sure why he cared anyway.”

  Rosie’s eyebrows rose, and her eyes twinkled. “Do you want me to believe you honestly have no idea?”

  Warmth pooled in Hannah’s stomach, and she smiled. She couldn’t deny she felt something—a tiny spark, maybe—when she was with Lincoln, but he was an up-and-coming attorney. He’d never pick a poor Hello Girl when he could have any of the eligible young woman society had to offer.

  Bossy Martha Cavanaugh and her snooty cohort Ginger Smith approached as soon as Hannah and Rosie entered the room. Hannah bristled. Until recently, the class’s two troublemakers had avoided her. But lately they seemed determined to make her look bad—unplugging her wires, mixing up her circuits, and starting gossip about her whenever they got the chance—all because she’d been a quick study at the practice switchboard.

  “Good morning, Hannah.” Martha tilted her body in Hannah’s direction, deliberately snubbing Rosie.

  “Hello, Martha. Ginger.” She motioned toward her friend. “Rosie and I were about to take our seats.”

  “Rosie, you go on ahead.” Martha waved her hand in the air as if she were shooing a fly. “You too, Ginger. I’d like to speak with Hannah. Alone.”

  Ginger’s lower lip jutted out in a pout at being dismissed. Rosie glanced at Hannah, waiting for a sign that it was okay to leave her alone with Martha.

  Hannah nodded. No need for Rosie to suffer through Martha’s ugliness so early in the morning. It was liable to make Rosie’s breakfast not sit well.

  After the two women departed, Martha leaned against the wall. “Did you know my sister is in the same class as your youngest sister?”

  “No, I didn’t. Then again, there are a lot of students at East High.”

  “Your sister is quite a storyteller.”

  “Tessa does have a vivid imagination.” Where was Martha going with this?

  “Well, according to my sister, Tessa said you have a friend—a dear male friend—who has been arrested.” Martha’s lips curled in a smug smile.

  Hannah’s
mouth went dry, and her pulse quickened. Why did Martha, of all people, have to find out about Walt?

  “Cat got your tongue, Miss Know-It-All?” Martha’s voice was low and menacing. “And don’t worry about telling Mrs. Reuff. I knew it would be much too difficult for you to confess this unsavory friendship to her, so I took care of relaying the information on your behalf.” She gave a smug chuckle. “I told you not to make us look bad again, but you had to keep showing off.”

  Mrs. Reuff strode to the front of the room, and Hannah walked to her seat, her legs weak. The instructor offered the class a prim greeting. “Today one of you will be leaving us.”

  A stone dropped in Hannah’s stomach. Just like that, she’d be dismissed? Without so much as a chance to refute the accusations?

  “As I’ve told you all before, the telephone company is a place of systems and rules. These systems and rules are in place to ensure the customers receive the highest level of service from the most reputable employees.”

  Her gaze swept the room and seemed to rest on Hannah.

  Tears pricked Hannah’s eyes. She’d worked so hard, and she needed this job so badly. How would she take care of her sisters now?

  “Miss Gregory, please come up here.”

  The blood whooshed from Hannah’s face, and her heart beat like a telegraph machine. Rosie gasped beside her. Hannah wiped her damp palms on her skirt. Not only was she to be dismissed, but she was to be made a public spectacle as well. Could this get any worse?

  She slowly stood and walked to the front of the classroom.

  Mrs. Reuff turned to her. “Miss Gregory, while these systems and rules often help us discover young women unsuitable for the profession of operator, they also help us reward those who seem to have a knack for the job.”

  Hannah blinked. This didn’t sound like a dismissal.

  Mrs. Reuff handed her a sheet of rolled-up paper and smiled. “Congratulations. You are the first student in your class to graduate and be promoted to the work of a full-fledged switchboard operator. Tomorrow they are expecting you at the Iowa Telephone Company. Report to the third floor. Please, make me proud. And do try to follow the rules.”

  After snagging a straight-back wooden chair from the hallway, Lincoln waited for the jailer on duty to open Walt’s cell door. Once inside, he set the chair down and straddled it. Across from him his client sat on the iron cot. Walt cocked his head to one side and then the other, stretching his neck. He avoided Lincoln’s probing gaze and began cracking his knuckles. If Walt had any idea how hard Lincoln had had to fight to convince Pete and Charles to let him keep this case, he might be more cooperative.

  Cedric had gotten to Charles first thing in the morning and built quite a case as to why Lincoln should forego representing Walt to smooth the way for better relations with their potential paying clients. The whole idea made Lincoln’s blood run hot.

  Pete intervened, explaining how important it was to follow through since the firm’s name had already appeared in the newspapers in relation to the case. Then privately, he’d quizzed Lincoln on why he was so determined to hold on to this case.

  Like Cedric, Pete pointed out that representing a disgruntled union employee could have dire consequences for Lincoln’s future political career. He added that the men who had the most influence in the city often saw unions as their enemy, and if Lincoln wanted to get a representative’s position next term, he, too, should start thinking of Walt as just that.

  Was he representing his enemy? Enemy was a strange word. Lincoln’s competitive instinct embraced the word, but his heart told him it was wrong to do so.

  He studied Hannah’s friend sitting across from him. A shave would do the man wonders. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and he seemed paler than he had only weeks ago at the Gregory farm.

  Lincoln let the silence lengthen between them, a technique he’d learned from his aunt when she was probing for the truth.

  Walt rubbed his hand over his whiskered chin. “So?”

  “So, are you ready to tell me the truth?”

  Walt met his eye. “I told you the truth. I didn’t start any fires.”

  Impressive. Straightforward. Not overly defensive. Yes, the man was telling the truth.

  “But you know who set the fires.”

  Walt looked to the corner of the cell and finally sighed. “There are a couple of fellows who might do something like that. They’re real hotheads, but I don’t know anything for certain.”

  “I’ll need their names.”

  “I can’t tell you.” He lifted his eyes and met Lincoln’s gaze. “I won’t tell you.”

  “You’re willing to go to prison for these men?”

  “I don’t think it will go that far. I’m innocent.” Walt drew his hand through his oily hair. “If Hannah will just—”

  Lincoln stood up. “No. I won’t let her do that.”

  “I doubt you can stop her, and I think I know her a little better than you.”

  “You’ve known her longer, but that doesn’t guarantee you know her better.”

  Anger flickered in Walt’s eyes. “When this is over …”

  Lincoln glared at the man. Friends, my eye! Friends didn’t react so possessively. Did Hannah really have no idea how Walt felt? Despite her claims to the contrary, did she harbor feelings for Walt as well? She’d certainly gone to great lengths to get her “friend” legal assistance. Maybe she simply hadn’t come to realize her own feelings ran so deep for Walt.

  The thought felt like a burr under his skin. He didn’t trust Walt, but if he were truthful, it was more than that. He had feelings for Hannah.

  Lincoln shook his head. Right now, he needed to focus on Walt as his client, not as his competition for Hannah’s affection.

  “Listen, we both want what’s best for her,” Lincoln said. Walt needed to understand they were on the same side if he was going to get him off this charge. “If word gets out she’s your alibi, she’ll lose her job, and we both know she needs that job too much to do that unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  Walt took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. Sorry.”

  “I need one name, Walt. One person I can do a little research on. If this goes to trial, which I’m hoping it won’t, all we have to do is create reasonable doubt. We won’t be trying him.”

  “But you’ll be pointing the police in his direction.” Walt stood and walked to the cell door. He wrapped his hands around the bars. “No thanks.”

  Lincoln clenched his fists. Why was Walt fighting him? Didn’t the man see that Lincoln was his only hope? He forced his voice to show a calm he didn’t feel. “All right, why do you think they arrested you?”

  Walt turned and shrugged. “How would I know?”

  “What kind of questions did they ask you?”

  “They asked me a lot about what I do for Western Union.”

  Lincoln held out his hand, palm up. “And you said … ?”

  “I told them I mainly repair the wires.”

  “What else?”

  For the next half hour, Lincoln began to get an inkling of the case the prosecution was most likely building. Walt, a disgruntled employee, had ample motive and opportunity. He’d been identified as one of the men who threw the bricks through the restaurant window, and he’d been quite vocal about his blacklisted friends. As for means, Lincoln imagined the detective suspected that with Walt’s lineman abilities, he could design and install any number of incendiary devices.

  Lincoln stood up. “That about covers it.”

  “So what happens next?”

  “There’s a hearing to be held next Monday to see if there’s enough evidence to hand you over for trial.” Lincoln stood and called to the jailer. “I won’t lie to you, Walt. Without another possible suspect, I think we have our work cut out for us. Hannah and I will speak with the city fire marshal and see what we can learn about the fires.”

  “Hannah?”

  “She’s helping me with your defense.”

&n
bsp; “She’s helping you?” Walt’s eyes widened, his jaw tensed.

  The jailer unlocked the door, and Lincoln picked up the chair he’d brought in. “Actually, she’s helping me help you.”

  “Just don’t put her in any danger.”

  Lincoln snorted. “No, you’ve done enough of that already.”

  16

  Seven church spires rose on Piety Hill, strong and constant against the mellowing sky. Hannah’s cheeks burned from smiling too much as the streetcar lumbered down Mulberry Street. She’d stopped by home to share the news of her graduation with her sisters, and they’d both been thrilled for her.

  Taking the streetcar was a luxury she didn’t usually allow herself, and from now on, she would walk the few blocks from the Iowa Telephone Company to Lincoln’s office.

  What was she saying? That was only if she met Lincoln again after work. If they were soon able to secure Walt’s freedom like she hoped, she’d have no reason to frequent Lincoln’s workplace.

  An odd melancholy washed over her, but it was followed by a faint whisper of hope deep in her heart. Did Lincoln feel this strange pull too? No. She mustn’t think that way. She and Lincoln were volatile together. Even if there was a remote interest on his part, she was not a good fit for a man with political aspirations. She couldn’t follow the rules of society any better than she could those of the telephone company—she was worried enough about that.

  The streetcar stopped at the grand Polk County Courthouse to let the patrons get off. On the sidewalk, she shook out the folds of her walking-length spring cloak. The brown-checked mohair had been her mother’s selection, not her own, but she was grateful she had the longer cloak on these nippy spring days, even if it lacked the flair of the latest fashions.

  A man bumped into her from behind, and she nearly lost her balance. He apologized and moved on. After adjusting her wide-brimmed, ostrich-plumed hat, she headed toward the building that housed Lincoln’s law office.