Something Borrowed (Jordan-Alexander Family 3)

"I know."

"You know? How?"

"You must have told me a thousand times over the past three days while you were unconscious. I had agents in Philadelphia canvassing the neighborhoods. They're gone, Lee. The neighbors say Sarrazin moved his mother and the little girl to New York."

"Damn him to hell and back!" Lee leaned against the bedpost and gasped for breath. "Hand me my pants, would you?"

Willis did as Lee asked and calmly handed over the trousers. "Where do you think you're going?"

"New York."

"You're in no condition to travel to New York. Besides, you've been relieved of duty. I telegraphed Robert Pinkerton in New York. He has men searching for Lily Catherine now. Your orders are to stay in bed and rest until further notice."

"Can't." Lee managed the one word as he struggled into his trousers.

"Why not?"

"I promised myself I'd find Lily Catherine before I go home. And I've got to be home before May tenth."

"We've got a dozen men searching for Lily Catherine. Right now, you'd just be in the way. Rest up, Lee, so you can go home. I promise to send word to you when we locate Sarrazin and the little girl. Besides, what's so important about May tenth?" Willis wanted to know.

"It's Mary's birthday."

Willis looked blank.

"My wife, Mary. I'm missing our honeymoon now, but I sure as hell don't intend to miss her birthday."

"You've got four days left."

Lee shook his head. "It takes two and a half days to get there. And I need to pick up the gifts I ordered for my wife. And there's the gift I'm having delivered to my hotel room."

"You rest," Willis suggested. "Tell me what you need to have done. I'll do it."

"You serious?" Lee asked amazed.

"If surprising your wife with a birthday present means this much to you, I'll be happy to pick up your gifts for you. Besides"—Willis grinned—"Robert Pinkerton sent word that he would have my head and my job if I let you out of bed before the doctor says you can go." He pulled a little notebook and a pencil out of his coat pocket. "So give me your list."

Lee took a deep breath, then began to list everything he had ordered for Mary's birthday. Well, almost everything. There were some presents money just couldn't buy.

Lee's wound healed very nicely, and a day and a half later he walked out of the hospital and boarded a train headed west. He managed to sleep during most of the journey so he was well rested when the special mail train chugged into the Utopia depot after eleven on Friday evening, May ninth. Lee was the only passenger.

"You need any help, Mr. Kincaid?" Ned Sampson had been awakened by the train whistle. Ned could see that Lee had his hands full, so he hurried forward to help with his leather satchel and the brown paper-wrapped bundles Lee gripped by their strings.

Lee dropped his satchel on the platform, then nudged it with his foot. "Bring that by the house in the morning, Ned, and leave it on the front porch." His satchel contained several changes of clothes and his little tool kit, but nothing vital.

"What's that you've got in the front of your shirt, Mr. Kincaid?"

Lee glanced down to see a black and gray furry little head sticking out from the vee of his waistcoat. He reached up and patted the puppy. "A birthday present."

"For Maddy?"

"No," Lee said with a smile. "For Mary." The terrier pup was only one of the presents Lee had for Mary and, like the others, he had carried it with him. Lee flipped a coin to the porter. "Thanks, Ned."

Lee walked down Main Street. The soft glow of the street lights barely penetrated the darkness. Fortunately, he was accustomed to the darkness, accustomed to negotiating muddy streets and sidewalks, unfriendly dogs, and frightened neighbors. A dog barked in the distance. The puppy whimpered and Lee reached up again to soothe him. "We're almost home, fella. We'll have you settled into a nice warm bed by the fire in no time." Lee had to admit that he was looking forward to settling into a nice warm bed himself— and lighting a fire—with Mary.

He reached the fence surrounding Camelot, as he had dubbed Ettinger House, unlatched the wrought-iron front gate and stepped inside the yard. Lee took the puppy out of his shirt and put him down on the ground, and while he waited to the puppy to tend to nature, Lee stared up at the outside of the house. It was dark except for the dim light glowing at the window of a second story bedroom. Lee smiled. His bedroom.

Minutes later, Lee located the terrier pup, picked him up and put him back into his shirtfront. Lee stepped up onto the porch and reached out to open the front door.