Secrets and Lies

Seventeen

"Oh, Miss Nicole. This is your old friend?" She shook her head. "He doesn't look old to me."

Nicole laughed, and Ashton chuckled with her. "Don't be silly, Mrs. Phelps. He's not old in years. I've just known him for a long time." She gave the other woman a wink. "Mr. Lee, this is my housekeeper—and chaperone—Mrs. Phelps."

Nicole said a silent prayer of thanks when the other woman didn't even blink an eye, but reached her hand out to shake Ashton's. "It's a pleasure to meet Miss Nicole's friend."

"The pleasure is all mine." Ashton grinned. "I was just talking to Miss Bastian about the dinner party I am planning for this upcoming week. The other two partners in the railroad will be in attendance. I was hoping Miss Bastian would like to attend, as well."

Mrs. Phelps' head bobbed with a nod. "I'm sure she would love to. Do you need me to come with you?" She directed the question to Nicole.

"No," Nicole answered. "Mr. Lee will have his friends pick me up. In fact, I was just getting ready to give him our address."

Panic laced the other woman's face, and Nicole knew she felt the same uncertainty. She waited for the other agent to speak, hoping the woman had a better suggestion.

"You weren't going to give him your residence, were you?" Mrs. Phelps asked.

"Well, of course."

Mrs. Phelps tsked and frowned. "I see your father hasn't informed you that he's having the top floor remodeled this week. All of us will be staying at the St. Denis Hotel. In fact, as soon as we return home, I'll check to see if the servants have packed our things."

Nicole could hug her friend right now. Thankfully, the other agent could think on her feet quicker than Nicole had been able to lately. "Is that this week? I thought Father told me it was next week."

"Yes, Miss Bastian. It's this week."

"Not to worry," Ashton held up his hand. "I shall send the invitation to the hotel and have Larson and his wife pick you up there."

"Oh, thank you," Nicole said with a sigh. "I honestly cannot wait to meet your friends."

"And I'm sure they will be just as delighted to meet you." Ashton turned his attention to the older woman. "Mrs. Phelps, it has been nice to meet you, but I should get back to work."

"I understand." She grinned. "Miss Bastian and I shall be leaving now."

Nicole turned with Mrs. Phelps, but glanced over her shoulder at Ashton and waved. He didn't appear as if he doubted their story, which was good. She didn't know what to do if he couldn't trust her. Trust was the key to getting him to open up about his dealings with the train robberies.

Once she and Mrs. Phelps had walked far enough away, Nicole released a pent-up breath. "Oh, Angela, you don't know how close I was to giving him my address." She met the other agent's gaze. "I didn't know what else to say. I'm so grateful you came for me when you did."

The older woman gave her a victorious nod. "When I saw you across the street, your expression told me you were in a pickle."

"Well, I certainly appreciate it." She squeezed Mrs. Phelps' arm. "But...what will happen when Mr. Lee sends that invitation to the hotel?"

"No need to worry." Angela tucked in a stray brown hair that had fallen out of her bun. "I have a friend who works there. I shall have her set up a room for the Bastian family."

Nicole gasped. "You can do that?"

The older woman lifted her chin stubbornly. "I can do anything. You seem to forget, I have friends everywhere."

"Yes, you do." Nicole chuckled. "And for that, I'm truly grateful."

It constantly surprised Nicole how many contacts Mrs. Phelps really did have. In all these years of working with the older woman, Nicole should have realized by now that there was nothing the widow couldn't do. For being middle-aged, Mrs. Phelps still had a lot of strength left in her body. She was slightly taller than Nicole, and a little on the plump side, but not overly so. Yet it didn't seem to matter. That woman could out-race Nicole any day.

They walked another block before Angela looked at her again. "So tell me, Nicole, did you find out anything about Mr. Lee during your visit this morning?"

Inwardly, she groaned. She really hated this particular subject. "I think so."

"What?"

"Did you know Mr. Lee's father owned New York's largest bank during the war?"

The other woman stumbled before quickly righting herself. She stopped and faced Nicole. "No, I did not. What bank?"

Nicole shrugged. "Mr. Lee never said the name, only that his father owned it."

"So I assume Mr. Lee was raised in a wealthy family."

"Yes, that's the impression I received, as well."

"Then what reason would he have to steal the government's money being sent to rebuild the south?"

Nicole sighed and placed her hand on Angela's arm again. "Yes. That was my thought, too."

"Unless..." Angela tapped her finger on her arm.

Nicole didn't like the tone of her friend's voice. She was certain Mrs. Phelps would come up with another reason to doubt Ashton. Nicole didn't want to doubt any longer. She wanted to mark him off her suspect's list. "Unless, what?"

"Unless Mr. Lee's father's bank is in trouble somehow and that's why he's stealing the money."

Nicole rolled her eyes and snorted. "You don't honestly believe that, do you? What bank in New York would be having problems? I haven't heard of one yet. Since the war, New York has been prospering even greater than before." She took a deep breath. "Besides that, his father died a few months ago. Because Ashton...um, Mr. Lee hasn't taken over his father's bank, I'm to assume that someone else is running it now."

"True." Angela nodded. "But there must be a reason why Mr. Lee's accounts are growing."

Nicole rubbed her pounding forehead. She'd forgotten about that small detail. "With any luck, I will be able to discover that when I attend his dinner party this week." She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "One way or another, I will find out where he's getting the money."

****

Ashton was thankful the journey to Staten Island didn't take very long. He needed to keep his partners updated on what was happening...which wasn't a lot, unfortunately. Still, he felt the need to talk with them. Not only that, but he needed to tell them why he was having a dinner party.

When he strolled into the office, both Larson and Nickerson were sitting at their desks, their heads bent over paperwork. Neither of them looked too pleased. Ashton sincerely hoped something awful hadn't happened. Again.

"Good day, gentlemen," Ashton called out, taking off his hat.

Surprise registered on their faces, but it was only Glynn who smiled. "What are you doing here this fine day? Have you brought us good news?"

Larson nodded. "Good news would be appreciated right about now."

Ashton sighed in defeat. "Actually, no. I don't have anything to report about the train robberies."

"So why are you here?" Larson grumbled.

Ashton wanted to roll his eyes. Out of the two men, Steve Larson had always been the one who acted as if he didn't want Ashton as a partner. Glynn assured Ashton that Larson was always grumpy.

"I'm holding a dinner party at my home in two days. I would like for both of you to come." He switched his attention to Glynn. "And please invite one of your lady friends." He moved it back to Steve whose expression hadn't changed much. "And if I could ask a favor of you and your wife, I would like it very much if you would pick up a woman friend of mine who will be staying at the St. Denis."

Casually, Steve leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "Why would we do that?"

"Because I haven't met her family yet, and so picking her up for my dinner party might be a little awkward."

Glynn snickered and scratched his ear. "You are courting a woman and haven't met her family yet?"

"I'm not courting her," Ashton quickly answered.

"All right...but it sounds like courting to me." Glynn chuckled.

Ashton gritted his teeth as he tightened his hold on his hat. He hadn't felt this uncomfortable since he'd tried to explain a relationship that he had with a lady-love to his own father several years ago. "I'll eventually court her, but I haven't officially done that yet."

"And why not?" Larson snipped. "It's obvious that you are infatuated with the filly."

"Yes, I am, but..." Holding his breath, he counted to ten. He hated feeling like he was trying to justify his actions in front of his father. True, these men were twice his age, but he was a grown man and he wished they'd treat him like one. "I have reservations about her right now, if you must know."

He moved to his desk and set his hat on the piece of furniture before he completely destroyed that particular hat. Breathing deeply, he quickly calmed his ire.

"Lee, what's going on?" Glynn asked, leaving his chair and coming toward Ashton. "Why has this woman rattled you so?"

Ashton couldn't understand why Glynn wasn't married yet. He obviously had a caring side that most women loved. But the middle-aged man was satisfied in being a single bachelor. "It's nothing."

"Of course it's something, especially when you stated yourself you have reservations about her." Glynn plopped on the chair next to Ashton's desk and raked his fingers through his brown hair. "Come now. Tell me about her. Where did you meet her?"

Chuckling, Ashton moved behind his desk and took his seat. "Do you recall the night of General Babcock's masked ball?"

"Of course."

"That's where I met her. She was the woman I referred to as Cinderella."

The other man's eyes widened and his mouth circled in an O. "What is she doing in New York?"

"Long story." Ashton shook his head as he tapped his fingers on the desktop. "But some of the things she's said to me aren't adding up. Her lifestyle, for one, and I get the impression that she doesn't want me to meet her family, which is quite odd, especially for a woman."

"That's very odd." Steve's voice boomed in the office as he stood. "Did she know who you were at the masked ball?"

Ashton's mind returned to that magical night as he tried to recall everything they had talked about. Then the memory hit him. "Yes. She did, in fact. It wasn't until later in the evening, but she did call me by name before I could introduce myself to her."

Groaning, Glynn rubbed his forehead. "That's not good at all."

"Why do you say that?" Ashton asked.

"Because that means she has had her eye on you for a while now."

Ashton arched an eyebrow. "And what is wrong about that?"

"You cannot be that dense," Larson snapped as he walked closer. "She's after your money. She knows about you, therefore she only wants you for your money."

"Or," Glynn said, leaning forward and resting his linked fingers on the top of the desk, "she is part of the gang of robbers and is fishing for information that might help her for her next train robbery."

"Don't be ridiculous, Nickerson." Larson grunted and shook his head. "No woman is that smart."

"I beg to differ," Glynn said. "I know a lot of intelligent ladies."

"Of course you do, which is why none of them have agreed to marry you." Larson grinned, obviously humored at himself for his comment.

"You think you're so smart?" Glynn jumped to his feet and faced Larson.

Ashton stopped listening to his partners' senseless argument as his mind began working properly. Both men had been right—if only a little. Most women Ashton had met were not very intelligent, yet Nicole was. True, there were a few times she tried to act naïve, but he could tell it was all for show. And she had been asking a lot of questions about his life. Then there was the fact that he had caught her and her brother dressed as waifs on the train asking questions about the robberies.

His gut twisted with uncertainty. Was it possible she had been playing him for a fool this whole time? Why not? Most women he'd met lied to him and deceived him any way they could. Yet, he'd thought Nicole was different. But the pain twisting like a knife in his heart told him she wasn't.