“Well, I’m not some prodigy like Tim, but I imagine I can handle a few details about the private life of a servant.” Nick’s voice has a dangerous bite to it, one I haven’t heard for a very long time. Not since Mother died and we learned Nick dealt with grief by getting mean.
“Matthew left me a letter.” I try to summarize Matthew’s history in as few words as possible, but even then we’ve turned back onto Astor Street by the time I’m done.
“Have you told the police about this?”
“That’s why I’ve been sitting by the telephone. I left several messages for Mariano, but he hasn’t called me back.”
“Probably because you’ve pestered him to death.”
The comment cuts. Is it true? Did yesterday’s excursion in the North push Mariano over the edge? He was awfully quiet during the train ride back to school . . .
“You girls never seem to know how to fall for the right guy.” Nick jingles the loose change in his pocket. “What a mess.”
As our house comes into view, I spot a tall, feminine figure waiting by our front gate. “Who’s that?”
“Beats me.” Nick squints. “Friend of Jane’s?”
“Loitering outside our house?”
Nick shrugs.
As we draw closer, it’s clear that whoever she is, she’s waiting for us. She stands nearly as tall as my brothers, a brimmed cloche pulled low over her bobbed hair, and her coat collar turned up.
“Good day, miss.” Nick’s voice is jovial, a jarring juxtaposition to the sour mood he’s been in with me.
“Good day.” The woman’s words are soft and pleasant. “Sorry to intrude upon you like this.”
“No trouble at all. What can we do for you?”
She takes in a breath and seems to hesitate. Her gaze moves to me. “You’re Piper Sail, aren’t you?”
I tighten my grip on Sidekick’s leash, despite how he cowers at my feet. “I am.”
Her smile is tinged with sympathy, and she seems familiar somehow. “I wanted to apologize for my colleagues scaring you off earlier. I can imagine this week has been hard enough for you, with your best friend missing, and then to not even be able to take a walk in your own neighborhood . . .” She shakes her head. “Almost makes me ashamed to be a journalist.”
So that’s where I recognize her from. “You’re a journalist?”
She nods and sticks out a hand. “Alana Kirkwood. Kansas City Star. Nice to meet you.”
Sidekick’s leash is wrapped around my right hand, and I unwind it to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you too.”
Nick leans against the wrought iron fence. “Kansas City sent a reporter up to cover Lydia?”
Alana turns her large eyes toward him. She’s very striking. Probably serves her well in a profession dominated by men. “To cover Jacob Dunn, actually. Or Matthew, as you probably knew him. The chauffeur. He left behind some very angry, very powerful people in Kansas City, so it’s a public interest story for our readership.”
“You sure made it up here fast.”
Alana shrugs. “I’ll take any excuse I can to come to Chicago.” She gives Nick a slow wink that has me fighting off an eye roll, and then turns her smile to me. “Miss Sail, I want to tell your story, the way you want it told. I’ll even give you full access to the article before it’s published so you can be sure I got every detail right. We can start anywhere you like. Maybe with Jacob and where you think he might have gone—”
I hold up my hand. “I thought you came to apologize for your colleagues. Now you’re soliciting an interview?”
“I just thought—”
“I’m not interested in speaking to the press. Good day, Miss Kirkwood.”
“But it’ll help Lydia,” Alana calls after me. “Information you have could help me get to Jacob.”
That’s too irritating a comment to leave alone. “Helping you look good by getting Jacob is of no interest to me. Nor will it help Lydia, because I know he didn’t have anything to do with her disappearance. Put that in your article, Miss Kirkwood.”
I want to bang the gate door shut, but I can’t with Nick trailing after me. He calls a “Sorry” that Alana Kirkwood doesn’t at all deserve.
“Don’t ask me to go on any more walks,” I snap at my brother once the front door is closed behind him.
Nick only glares at me, as if I’ve somehow done something wrong. “I’m so surprised you’ve never been asked on a date, Piper. You’re such a pleasure to be around.”
I throw my shoe at his retreating figure, clocking him in the back of the head.
“Ow!” Nick whirls around, his eyes blazing. “Get control of yourself, Piper.”
As he stalks up the stairs, I lean against the wall. My breath comes in rapid gasps, and my eyes are unfocused. Nick’s parting words thump in my brain, and I try to talk my lungs into holding on to a breath of air instead of immediately casting it out.
I need to calm down. Lydia is still out there. She needs me to think clearly. She needs me to find her. I think of Mariano on Clark Street yesterday, taking deep breaths and encouraging me to do the same.