Secrets and Lies

Seven

Ashton sat behind his desk, staring out the window of his office at Conrail Railroad. It was still too early for people to walk from shop to shop on the streets. The sun started to peek in the horizon with splashes of red and yellow blending with the light-blue sky. The scenery was so peaceful; he could stare at it for hours. He always enjoyed the early mornings. Except the bright sun would soon bring people from their homes, and disrupt his solitude.

Today was no exception. Only one thing was different. He couldn't stop smiling.

Although he was at work, he couldn't keep his mind on his job. In a few hours he'd venture farther into town in hopes of seeing a specific woman. Anticipation kept him from getting much sleep last night, especially when remembering the kiss he and Nicole had shared. The kiss wasn't long enough, and if he had his way today, he'd give her the kind of kiss he'd wanted to give her last night.

After the excitement of the kiss was over, he'd have to discover why she had lied about the Babcock's housekeeper. What was Nicole really doing upstairs in the general's study?

From outside the window, loud, upset voices boomed through the air. He rose from his chair and looked out. Two policemen stood near the office, talking with Glynn and Steven. Glynn shook his head as he rubbed his forehead, and Steven barked orders at the policemen as he waved his hands in frantic gestures.

Taking long strides, Ashton hurried out of the office and stepped on the boardwalk. All eyes turned toward him. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Another train robbery," Glynn grumbled.

Frustration rose in Ashton's chest. "The government money was stolen again?"

"Yes," Steven snapped.

Sighing heavily, Glynn raked his fingers through his thick, light brown hair. "If these thieves can't be brought to justice, the government is going to stop using our railroad to send their items."

Up until now, there had only been two train robberies in the last six weeks. This one made three. Ashton was surprised the government had used them at all this third time. "That's true. We need to find out who these thieves are and stop them." He switched his focus to one of the policemen. The older looking of the two, had streaks of white in his black mustache. "Have you found any leads?"

The man shook his head. "These bandits are calculating. It's like they know that some of the depots are not patrolled."

"Any witnesses?" Ashton asked.

"Just the same ones," the other officer answered as he scratched behind his ear. "The people in the mail car are the only ones who see them, and just like the last robbery, they reported one man wearing black clothes with a black handkerchief around his neck."

Steve grumbled. "Only one man, and yet, there are two guards. How is one man able to steal the money when the odds are not in his favor?"

The police officer shrugged. "We asked the guards this very question, and they say the man wasn't suspicious when they first saw him. They claim the man drugged them."

"Drugged them?" Ashton gasped. "With what?"

"The guards didn't know. But they vaguely remember him wearing black and a red bandanna around his neck."

Steve threw up his hands, muttering something under his breath as he paced the area around them. He wasn't a very large man—more thin, in fact, but his stubborn temperament made up for his size.

"Was anybody hurt?" Ashton wondered.

The older of the two policemen shook his head. "As long as the guards do what they are asked, nobody gets hurt. This bandit is just there to take the money being sent to help rebuild the south. He doesn't go into any other railcar, either."

"Something needs to be done about this, and quickly!" Glynn snapped as he pointed his finger at the policemen. "I will offer a reward for the capture of these criminals. We cannot lose the trust of the government because of these robberies."

"I agree." Steve nodded. "And I'll match the reward that Nickerson makes." He turned his focus to Ashton. "Are you with us?"

"Of course I am," Ashton said with a hard nod.

The older policeman released a heavy sigh, folding his arms across his chest. "Fine. I shall post it in the newspapers."

"Thank you," Glynn muttered. "What price shall we say, men?" His attention switched between Steve and Ashton. "One thousand a piece?"

Steve nodded. "Yes."

"That's a good amount." Ashton raked his fingers through his hair.

The younger policeman gasped. "That's a lot of money, Mr. Nickerson."

Glynn lifted his chin and stood in a stubborn stance with his arms folded across his bulky chest. "Indeed, it is, but I'm serious about stopping these thieves, and nowadays, money talks louder than anyone I know."

The policeman took Glynn aside and wrote down what needed to be said in the newspapers. Sighing heavily, Ashton followed Steve inside the office and over to his own desk, plopping down on the chair. "I don't know if this will be enough," he said softly, mainly to himself than to his friend.

"What won't be enough?" Larson asked as he sat his slender body behind his desk, kicking his long legs to the side.

"Money."

"Why don't you think the money will be enough?"

Ashton shook his head. "I don't know, but I have a feeling the police are going to have a hard time capturing this man. From what they have described in each robbery, we're dealing with a professional. This one man dares to take on two guards? That doesn't sound right in my book. But what worries me even more is that someone is going to get hurt...or even killed before this is over."

"Yes, I fear that might happen, as well."

Rubbing his chin, Ashton stared out the window in deep thought. There had to be some way to assist the police. Although Ashton had never truly been allowed to be an adventurous person, he'd do anything to help bring justice to these criminals no matter what it took.

Slowly, anger welled within him. Growing up, he'd been pampered by his wealthy parents. Even in school, his mother had the vapors if he came home from school with a tear in his breeches. Because of the way they coddled him, the other children in school would tease him endlessly. He learned to fight with his fists, but he was still fearful his parents would find out, and his father would use his power and money to buy off the family in order to leave Ashton alone.

If only his father had known that his actions only made the children hate Ashton more.

When the war started, he was eighteen years old and wanting to fight for the north. His parents would not have it. His father drilled into him that their family name meant everything. His father owned the largest bank in New York, and he convinced Ashton that he was needed to help at the bank. His father would do anything to keep power and prestige. Still, Ashton had wanted to fight with the other boys his age.

Once his mother discovered his desire to fight, she cried and made him feel guilty for wanting to leave. He was their only child. If he died in the war, they'd have nobody. She went on to explain that he would indeed die because unlike all the boys he'd gone to school with, he was pampered and kept out of harm's way all of his life. In the army, there would be nobody to protect him.

Although Ashton hated it, he obeyed his mother and stayed home. He'd wished he had a backbone to stand up to his parents, but he hadn't. It wasn't until a few years ago when he'd learned that his father had paid someone else to go in Ashton's place...and the man was shot and killed the first month out.

Bunching his fists, Ashton gritted his teeth in irritation. He'd hated his father for doing that, but the old man stood up for his cause, stating that Ashton needed to help with the bank and continue the family name.

He'd been saving his money and investing it in many different things, just as his father had taught Ashton, and when he read that Conrail Railroad was looking to bring on another business partner, he decided to stop following his father's shadow and do something for himself. Remarkably, he had convinced Nickerson and Larson that he'd make the best partner.

It surprised him when his father didn't get upset. Instead, the old man couldn't be prouder of his son. Ashton remembered feeling angry at the way his father took the news. Ashton actually wanted some kind of confrontation with him. He wanted a chance to finally stand up to his old man. Unfortunately, that chance never arrived because his father died a month later. The doctor thought it was a heart attack.

Frowning, Ashton closed his eyes. No wonder he'd not felt like a real man before. Lately, he'd wondered if he even knew how to make it through life by himself. Little did Nicole Bastian know, but her kiss had evoked feelings in him he'd never had, and made him ponder his life in a more meaningful way.

And now...now he wanted to prove to someone, even if it was to himself, that he was a real man. That he could do what real men did. A man who could handle challenges, and a man he could be proud of.

"What are you thinking about over there?" Steve asked after several moments of silence.

Ashton snapped out of his thoughts and looked at his business partner. "I'm trying to think of what I can do to help the police."

Steve rolled his eyes. "There's nothing we can do here, unless you want to return to New York and work out of that office."

"I'll do what I have to do," Ashton said quickly and assuredly.

"Well, I suppose one of us should return to New York City, at least until the thieves have been caught."

"Then that's what I'll do." Ashton stood, his legs pushing back his chair until it hit the wall. "I'll pack my things tonight and leave by tomorrow afternoon. I'll hound the police until we catch the criminal, and I won't rest until it's done."

Gradually, a smile pulled on Steve's mouth—something that didn't happen often. "Good for you, Lee. I'm happy to see you've grown a backbone."

Although the comment was meant as praise, Ashton felt the hint of an insult behind the true meaning. But Larson was correct. Ashton had never shown his business partners that he had a backbone, only because he had never had one.

But starting today, he would prove that he did. He'd make them proud to be their friend. And, he'd let one certain woman know that he was truly a Prince Charming.