Chapter 11 Tay

CHAPTER 11

TAY

Tay gritted her teeth and hefted the heavy box from the back of the Jeep she'd borrowed from her next-door neighbor and swung it toward the waiting book cart. As she did so, her knee bumped the cart and sent it rolling away, out of reach of the box she was struggling to hold on to. "Stupid cart! Why don't you have a wheel lock like a real cart?"

The cart didn't answer, so she staggered forward, setting the box on the top shelf just before it slipped from her hands. "Whew!" She straightened and rubbed her lower back. That was the last one, thank goodness. Now all she had to do was maneuver this antiquated cart to her new office in the back of Rose's Book-store.

Thank goodness for Rose Day. Despite Richard's little foray into stupidity, last week had still turned out to be a red-letter week for Tay. Rose had been surprisingly helpful during their meeting, which Luke had arranged and mediated. Tay had been impressed at how gifted he was in dealing with his grumpy grandmother. By the time he'd finished cajoling, complimenting, explaining, and encouraging, Rose had agreed to allow Tay to look through her pristine copies of the Register s and had given her unfettered access to the Day family archives, including the now-no-longer-missing items related to William Day.

But even nicer, when Rose noticed Tay eyeing the huge, empty desk located in the old office that they used as a workroom to unpack stock, she'd suggested that Tay use it as her office for as long as she needed it.

It was almost too good to be true. Even Luke had seemed surprised by that.

Tay closed the back of the Jeep and pushed the creaking cart down the sidewalk. She was almost at the bookstore when her phone rang. She dug it out of her pocket and saw her sister Cara's name flashing across the screen. "Hello?"

"Hi!" Cara said in her usual no-nonsense voice. "Hadn't heard from you in a while and thought I'd check in."

"Sorry I haven't called. I've been busy working on a new project."

"I've heard all about it. Sarah's already dying to read it, and Ella believes it'll make a great movie. How does it feel to be home? Are our younger sisters driving you batty yet? Did Sarah make good on her promise to let you use the library conference room as an office?"

"She did, but it turns out it's a public space, so a lot of groups had reserved it for their meetings."

"That's no good."

"Right? Plus, all three of them kept coming by to see what was going on, which was annoying. But I found a solution. Rose Day offered to let me use the empty office in the back of her bookshop. It's super private, and she said I'm welcome to it for as long as I want it, too."

"Glad you found a place to plant some roots while you finish Sarafina's biography. I hope it goes well. I guess you'll be going back home to your apartment once you're done."

Back home. Back to her tiny apartment that wasn't big enough to hold all her things. Back to working for a boss she no longer respected or even liked. Back to a life that suddenly seemed so far away, she didn't recognize it.

Tay glanced down the quiet street. It was a cool, crisp morning, and the bright sun slanted its gold light across the redbrick buildings with their sandstone trim and distinct decorative patterns. The large windows glinted and sparkled, reflecting the glow. Better yet, as they were behind Ava's new Pink Magnolia Tearoom, the faint scent of coffee and cinnamon drifted through the air.

It was quiet here. And peaceful. For a moment, she wondered if she really wanted to go back home to a place that suddenly felt far away and lacking. But what else could she do? As nice as it was here, she couldn't see hersel—

"Tay?"

"Sorry. I'm in the middle of moving my things into my new office. Can I call you later?"

"Sure. I'll be here."

"Awesome. Catch you soon." Tay hung up and stuck her phone into her back pocket, then grabbed the cart and pushed it in the direction of the bookshop. I need to get everything in place and organized. I don't have time to think about other things right now.

It took her several tries to get the creaky old cart through the front door, but she finally managed, the bell announcing her arrival.

"Sweet baby Jesus, look at that!" Rose limped out from behind the counter to poke her cane at the boxes. "It's your third load, too. Is all of that research on Sarafina Dove?"

Tay patted the top box. "I've been collecting information on this subject for almost eight years now, so I have a lot of it."

"Didn't you fly here from England? How did you get all of that onto a plane?"

"I didn't bring it from Oxford. My apartment in Boston is too small to hold all my research, so I keep a lot of my things in a climate-controlled storage unit. Before I came here, I had my friend May ship the boxes marked ‘SD' for Sarafina Dove to my sisters' house."

"It's a good thing that desk back there is so big. You're going to need it. When Luke gets back, I'll send him in to explain our filing system." Rose limped back to her place behind the counter, shooting a hooded glance at Tay as she went. "Luke says he asked to help with your research. You'll be glad to have him. He's good with paperwork and the like."

Tay smiled politely. "I bet he is. But I can't take him away from you like that."

"No. Take him." Rose slid back on her stool and pinned the scanner with a hard look. "Please take him and keep him from installing more computer crap."

Tay had to fight to keep her smile in place. "I'll see if there's something he can do."

"He can start by bringing back that cart once you're done with it." Rose propped her cane to one side and picked up a book that sat next to the register. "He's out on some errands now. Won't be back until eleven." She opened her book and removed her bookmark. "That reminds me: I want to introduce you to Lulu. She should be here around three."

"Oh. I should still be here then." Tay wasn't sure why Rose wanted her to meet Lulu, but she couldn't think of a reason not to.

Rose shot her a suspicious look. "You like children, right?"

Tay blinked. "Like them? I suppose I do."

"You suppose ? What kind of an answer is that? It's an easy question. Yes or no."

It was an easy question but, to be honest, Tay hadn't really given it much thought. "They're okay. I mean, I don't like the screaming ones, but the rest are fine."

"You'll like Lulu, then. She's not a screamer, but she does sarcasm like a pro. I've been told that's a sign of intelligence, although Luke doesn't appreciate it."

Through the town gossip vine, Tay had heard about how Lulu had ended up living with her uncle in Dove Pond. Under those circumstances, Tay supposed a little sarcasm was warranted. "Sarcasm is an art form. I can relate, too. I have six sisters. Sarcasm is how I sur-vived."

"Ah. You did grow up around a lot of girls, didn't you? That could help." Rose seemed pleased at the thought. "You and Lulu will get along just fine."

I don't know what that's about, but it seems like the perfect time to leave. "I'm sure we will. I guess I'll go unload these boxes now." She pushed the cart to her new office and parked it near the huge desk.

A few minutes later, she stacked the final box in the corner and took the time to look around. The larger office that Rose used—which was on the other side of the bookshop—was the old editor's office. Between them, Rose's grandfather and father had served as the newspaper's editors in chief for almost a hundred years.

The smaller office where Tay stood now had belonged to the clerk. She suspected that the clerk had also served as the chief typesetter, as the huge desk was covered with miscellaneous ink stains. Although the clerk's office didn't have the size or prominent placement of Rose's, it was blessed with an abundance of light due to the two large windows that overlooked the sidewalk, and the large glass window that opened into the bookstore. A row of bookshelves lined the back wall and framed the door that led to the climate-controlled storage room.

She stood at the desk and ran her hand over the worn wooden surface, happy at the thought of having so much room to organize her books, notes, and other research materials. It was a relief she wouldn't have to pack up and move them again, too. Every time that happened, she worried an important piece of information, especially her DON ' T FORGET and FURTHER RESEARCH Post-its—a cornerstone of her organizational method—might get stuck to the back of another piece of paper or drift unnoticed to the floor.

But now that was a worry of the past. Eager to get her things organized, Tay returned the cart to its place near Rose, who was too immersed in her book to notice. Tay knew that feeling, so she just smiled and returned to her new office.

She was just starting to unpack the first box when the door flew open and Ella appeared, wearing a cute red dress and cowboy boots, a heavy blue sweater hanging over one arm. She grinned and placed a pastry box and a cup of coffee in front of Tay.

"What are you doing here?"

Ella's grin faded. "Why? Am I not allowed?"

"No, no. I'm just surprised to see you, that's all."

"I just delivered some muffins I made to Ava's new tearoom and thought I'd stop by and say hi."

"Ah. That was nice of you." Tay eyed her sister for a minute. "You didn't knock."

"Why would I? I saw you through the window, and you didn't look busy."

Tay pointed to the box she was unpacking. "I didn't look busy?"

"Well, not very busy," Ella corrected. "But hey, I brought you an office-warming gift. Coffee and chocolate crème éclairs. Surely that counts for something."

"Thank you." The coffee smelled heavenly. It wouldn't hurt to drink it. "Where's Gray?"

Ella pointed to the front of the store, where her boyfriend stood in the aisle, his dark head bent over a book. He flipped a page, read a little more, and then closed the book and tucked it under his arm before browsing his way farther down the row. "He's a huge reader. I think he spends more on books than he does at the feed store, and he has a whole herd of Highland cows."

"Impressive." Tay liked Gray. He was quiet and had a quick sense of humor, but more than that, Ella was obviously head over heels for him—a first for her.

Ella sat down in the old orange chair in front of Tay's desk. "This is a big office. I expected it to be smaller."

"It'll look even more spacious once I get my things organized." Which she'd do more quickly if she didn't have visitors. Tay placed the last files from the box on the desk and then opened another box. Ah, there were her binders. She pulled them out, one at a time, and stacked them two-deep. She really needed some shelf space. A file cabinet would be nice, too.

By the time Tay finished emptying the box, Ella had left her chair and was wandering around the room. She gestured to the windows that looked out over the side street. "There's a lot of light in here."

Tay nodded absently and cast a curious gaze over the bookcases that lined the back wall. Each one had six shelves, and the bottom four were filled with—of all things—old and faded shoeboxes. That left the top two rows of shelves empty. My binders would fit that space perfectly. I wonder if Rose would mind me using it?

Ella wandered back to the desk and began straightening the stapler and other office supplies Tay had just set out into a neat row. "This desk will work, but the chair is a bit sad."

"I kind of like it."

Ella gave her a flat stare. "You like anything that's too old to use."

Tay couldn't argue with that. She really did like the ancient chair, a relic of the same era as the desk. It was wooden, with wooden ball casters, the red leather seat worn and mashed flat. "I may need to buy a support cushion, but other than that, it's good as new."

Ella's eyebrows rose. "Really?" She sat in the chair, which creaked as if she weighed a million pounds. She glared down at it. "It sounds as if it's trying to take its last breath."

"The base just needs some oil."

"Oil is exactly what it needs. Pour oil on it, toss it on a pile of wood, and then burn it. It's anything but what a chair should be—comfortable and quiet." Ella got up, wincing as the chair protested again. "That thing must be two hundred years old."

"It's possible. Rose says that both this desk and chair were used back when her granddad was the editor of the Register ."

"It looks as if it hasn't been oiled or cleaned since then." Ella twisted around, trying to see the back of her dress. "I hope I don't have to go home and change."

Tay eyed Ella's trendy outfit and then looked down at her Harvard sweatshirt and faded jeans, and wished she knew how to dress the way her sister did. Ella always wore bright colors and fitted clothing, while Tay was happier in loose, comfy clothes. I should probably update my look. And yet Tay knew she wouldn't. Her comfortable clothes were like a hug she gave herself. "There's nothing on your dress. You look ready for a fashion shoot, as usual."

Ella's gaze flickered over Tay. "And you dress as if you're still a grad student."

"I own some dresses. I wore one yesterday."

"You brought a total of two dresses with you. I know because I've looked in your closet."

Tay frowned. "Why did you do that?"

"I was bored and curious, so—" Ella shrugged.

"I didn't see the need to bring fancy clothes. I'm just here to work." To emphasize her point, Tay opened another box and started to unpack it.

"If you want to go shopping, let me know. Erma Tingle's little boutique here in town has some surprisingly stylish things in it." Ella pointed to the other, much smaller desk that sat in the corner of the room. "Who will work there?"

"Rose and Luke use that desk when they're unpacking the new stock."

"Ah. So Luke will be here sometimes."

Tay shrugged. "I suppose so."

Ella slanted her a side look. "He seems like a nice guy."

He did. And he'd done so much for Tay already, including use the term "bull pizzle" no fewer than six times during her meeting with Rose. Tay had to stifle a laugh when she remembered his grandmother's irritated expression every time he worked it into their conver-sation.

Ella cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the picture window into the bookstore. "Where is Luke, by the way? I didn't see him when we came in."

"Rose said he had some errands."

"Ah." Ella dropped her hands back to her sides and wandered to where Tay was working. "I bet you'll see a lot of him."

"Hopefully I won't see him very often, as I really, really, really need my space." She looked at Ella expectantly, but her sister didn't take the hint.

In fact, Ella had already moved to the door beside the bookcases. "Where does this go? Do you have your own break room?"

"That's the climate-controlled room where the old copies of the Register and the Day family archives are kept." Tay had to fight the urge to rub her hands together in excited anticipation. "It used to be the subscription office for the newspaper."

"There's so much history in this place. I—" Ella's phone chimed, and she pulled it out of her pocket and looked at it. "I almost forgot. I've got a Zoom call in thirty minutes with my content team, so I need to head out. I'll have Gray drop me off at home." She picked up her sweater from where she'd left it on the back of the orange chair. "Don't forget the family dinner Ava's planned for tonight. Should I tell everyone you'll be eating with us?"

"Sure." Why not? It wasn't as if she had other plans.

"Great. I'll let them know." Ella headed out the door, waving as she went. "See you later."

Over the next hour, Tay emptied two more boxes and organized some files. As she worked, she was aware of Rose's curious gaze occasionally wandering in her direction, and she wished her office window had blinds like the one in Rose's office.

Still, the window was sort of fun, as Tay could see the comings and goings of all of Rose's customers. It was interesting how people shopped for books. They would wander around, seemingly aimlessly, picking up a book here and there. They'd read a page or two and then either put the book back or give it a little pat before taking it to the counter.

It was close to eleven when Luke finally arrived. By then, more than a half dozen customers were milling around the store. Everyone smiled at him, two calling out a greeting, while Rose immediately began asking him questions about an order. He handed Rose a small brown bag stamped MOONLIGHT CAFé as he patiently answered her.

Tay watched him as she separated a new batch of files into convenient stacks on one side of the desk. Luke seemed to find it easy to talk to everyone he met, his smile warm and contagious. She wondered what that was like.

Luke waved, and she suddenly realized she'd been absently staring at him, lost in her own thoughts.

Her face heated. "Way to go, Dove," she muttered to herself as she gave him an awkward, hurried nod and then turned away to dig into the open box sitting on her desk. "Yeah, that didn't look weird at all."

A scant few minutes passed before a quick knock announced Luke. He came in carrying a box, which he set on the other, smaller desk before casting a quick glance around. "Grandma Rose was right. You have a lot of stuff." His gaze found the coffee cup on her desk. "I was going to offer to make you some coffee, as there's a station in Grandma's office, but I see you already have one."

"Ella brought it, but it's probably cold now."

"Would you like me to make you a cup?"

"No, thank you. I'm good."

He eyed the stacks of binders and folders. "You need a file cabinet. I'll bring one from upstairs. We have a few old ones stored there."

Grateful, she flashed him a smile. "I could use one. Is that what you keep in the second story? Office furniture? I'm surprised you haven't expanded the bookshop up there."

"Stairs are difficult for Grandma Rose. Besides, she likes being able to see all her customers from her perch behind the counter." He cast a glance toward the front of the shop, shaking his head when he saw his grandmother stabbing the point-of-sale pad as if it had insulted her. "She doesn't like technology. What's worse is that it doesn't seem to like her, either."

Tay put the empty box in a corner with the others. "She mentioned you've been dragging her kicking and screaming into the modern era."

"More screaming than kicking. She has a bad hip, you know." He grinned. "When I first got here, Grandma Rose was still using carbon copies to record sales. It was archaic."

"You've managed to do a lot in just a short while, then. Rose mentioned that you did computer stuff before you moved here."

He raised his eyebrows. "Did you say ‘computer stuff '? I was a programmer for a cutting-edge cybersecurity company. That's not ‘stuff.'?"

She had to laugh. "Sorry! To be honest, when I first arrived, I thought you worked at a Genius Bar or a phone repair shop or something like that."

His mouth dropped open, although his blue eyes twinkled. "I've never been so disrespected in my whole life. If we lived in other times, I'd be challenging you to a duel right now."

"I'm glad we live in a more genteel era."

"Speak for yourself. It was a great-paying job, but to be honest, I didn't love it. After I got Lulu, I cut back. Now I'm a consultant for a number of small companies. I make a fair penny doing it, too."

"Good for you. Are you happier now?"

"Yes." He sat down in his chair, the seat creaking as loudly as her own. "I set up my own servers in one of the guest rooms at the house, and I work there most evenings so I can match the time zones of my biggest clients."

His own servers? Wow. His job is much more complex than I'd imagined.

He opened the box he'd brought in and emptied it, piling new books on his desk.

She continued to organize her things, separating her files into neat stacks that defined different facets of Sarafina's life. There was the "letters and correspondence" stack, the "newspaper investigations" stack, the "information about Sarafina's New York/marriage years" stack, and now a growing "Sarafina in Dove Pond" stack. She eyed the new folders with a smile.

"You never answered my question the other day. Actually, it was more of a favor."

Surprised, she looked at Luke. He'd already unpacked his box and had just put down the iPad he'd used to log them in. "I'd like to officially become a member of your investigative team."

Here we go. He was going to be just like her sisters, which was a disappointment. "I don't have a team."

"If there were two of us, then it would be a team, wouldn't it? To be honest, I feel as if I've earned a place on it."

She frowned. "Earned?"

"I spent a good amount of time working Grandma Rose over to get you access to the real-deal William Day information, didn't I?"

"You did, but—"

"And that turned into something more, as she gave you this lovely office, too."

"You were as surprised about that as I was," Tay pointed out.

"True. But still, it wouldn't have happened without me. So… may I join your team?"

This was the last thing she needed. "I prefer to work alone."

"I understand. But you have a lot of research to go through. Surely you could use the help. Think of me as your grad assistant. I'm here to do the dirty work—make copies, find sources, get coffee. That sort of thing."

It would be nice to have an assistant, a real one. She couldn't deny it. But that wasn't Luke. "It's very nice of you to offer to help, but you don't know my system."

"I can learn it."

He spoke so firmly and calmly that she almost believed him. "I'm sort of picky, too. For example, I don't like it when people talk while I'm working."

"Noted. I prefer to work in silence myself."

"A lot of the work is slow and tedious."

"And you think programming isn't? Please."

She struggled to think of another reason to tell him no and couldn't find one.

He must have read her expression, because he crossed his arms and leaned back in his creaky chair, a complacent smile on his face. "Tell you what. I'll help for a week, and if at the end of that time you think I'm more of a hindrance than a help, I'll stop."

She eyed him cautiously. "You'll stop."

"Completely. I'll stay away and will only come in here to check stock into the system or to do the returns."

She wished she could just say no and be done with it, but she couldn't deny that he'd already been a big help. It's only temporary. In a week, I'll let him know how much I appreciate his efforts, but that I'll be better off doing this alone. And that will be that.

She nodded. "Fine. A week, then."

"Yes!" He fist-pumped the air and spun his chair in a circle.

She had to laugh. "I'm warning you. It's going to be boring."

"As if!" He settled back into his seat and grinned at her. "What do we do first?"

"I have to get unpacked, but once that's done, I have some things I need to search for in the old Register s. In fact, I have a list of things."

He got out of his chair and came to her desk. "Maybe I can help with—"

"No! I need to do this part myself."

"Sure." Luke selected a pen from the holder on her desk and clicked it a few times and then put it back. "By the way, what did you decide to do about that little problem you had? The one that called you the other day."

It was amusing to hear Richard described as "that little problem." She rather liked that. "I spent an hour on the phone this morning with a colleague who teaches intellectual property classes. He says I have a strong case and gave me the name of a lawyer to call, should I need one. He also suggested that, for now, I simply write Richard an email explaining my concerns and then wait and see what happens."

"He thinks Richard will back down?"

She nodded. "He said the fact that Richard wanted me to sign the form handing over all the rights shows he knows how weak his position is."

"Just one email and you're done?"

"I hope so. Although this whole thing has probably surprised Richard—he's not used to hearing me say no." Which was embarrassing to admit.

"Really?" Luke looked seriously shocked. "I don't see you as the ‘can't say no' type."

That was gratifying to hear. "I'm not usually. I don't know what happened, but I wasn't myself when—" She stopped, realizing that she was about to sink into a convoluted explanation about something even she didn't understand. "It'll all work out. If Richard gives me any problems, I'll call in the lawyer my friend recommended."

There. That was simple and easy. She couldn't believe she'd almost admitted her flaws to the guy standing beside her desk. She'd been so pathetically weak where Richard was concerned, and on some level, she was terrified that the-woman-who-never-said-no might be who she really was. I will never date again. I can't afford to. I should pack up all my things and find a desert island and—

The sound of a page turning made her look up. Luke now sat on the corner of her desk, leafing through the contents of one of her folders.

She frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Reading these transcripts from the trial. Is this what you went to Asheville for last week?"

"I got them from the Western Regional Archives office."

He turned the page. "It's fascinating. It would make a great movie, wouldn't it?"

"That's what my sister Ella thinks." Tay watched as he finished reading the page and turned to a new one. "I hate to bother you, but don't you have a few things to do, like—I don't know—run a bookstore or something?"

He didn't look up but tilted his head toward the window overlooking the aisles. "See Grandma Rose at the counter? She's already settled in, reading a book, and is more than happy I'm not there."

Tay had to lean to one side to see, but he'd called it. Rose was right where Luke said she'd be, and she did look content, lost in one of her ever-present books.

Luke flipped to a new page. "She prefers to run the bookshop on her own. The second I get up out of her chair, she rushes out of her office to claim it."

"It's nice of you to give her a hand here."

"I like being useful." He finished reading the transcript and slid it back into the file before eyeing the growing stacks of binders and folders on her desk. "You've already gathered a lot of information. I'm impressed and a bit daunted."

"It's exciting, not daunting." She reached over and took the folder out of his hands, closed it, and replaced it on the pile. "But if it's too much for you—"

"Not at all." He reached past her and picked up another folder, this one green with a bright yellow Post-it that read "News Articles About the Train Robbery." He flipped it open and scanned the top article. "I'm not that busy these days."

She blinked. "But you've got Lulu, and you're helping your grandmother with the bookshop, and you said you work in the evenings—"

"It's a part-time job." He closed the file and handed it to her. "Why don't I start working on the Register s while you finish organizing your office? That way I can prove just how good I am at tedious things."

Or prove how bad he was at them. She thought about arguing, but he looked so hopeful that she didn't have the heart. "Sure. Why not?" She replaced the file he'd just handed her back on its stack and then dug her yellow notepad out from under a pile of books. "Here. Compile a list of every mention, meeting, or transaction made by Sarafina and her aunts, as well as William Day and his family. Oh, and those of Marcus McCleary and Ellis Johnson, too. Neither of them had families, so that'll be simpler."

"That sounds easy enough. Is that all you need?"

"For now, yes."

"Okay, boss. I'll get started as soon as I finish scanning in the new stock." Luke carried the notepad to his desk and settled back into his seat, his long frame making it seem smaller than it was. "By the way, I was surprised at how much speculation was going on in that article about the train robbery."

"That's the real problem with using the news as a source, even today. I have to cross-check their supposed facts."

He grimaced. "That's sad. Have you read the transcripts for the trial?"

"Most of them, yes. The folder you had earlier was just the pretrial hearing record. There are pages and pages of transcripts from the actual trials." She caught herself looking at her satchel, where a fat stack of photocopies rested, already sorted, tabbed, and waiting for a thorough reread. "It was interesting. It's common knowledge who committed the train robbery—William Day, Marcus McCleary, and Ellis Johnson. While I was in the courthouse, I looked up their criminal records. Prior to the theft, Day had never been arrested, not even once."

Luke looked surprised. "Our family lore swears he was a town troublemaker."

"He was labeled as such, but the lack of an arrest record makes me wonder if that's all it ever was—a label."

Luke nodded thoughtfully. "That happens. Still does."

"McCleary had several run-ins with the law for things like petty theft and public drunkenness. But Johnson had a long record that included far bigger and more violent crimes. In fact, about ten months before the robbery, he was arrested for manslaughter but was never convicted, as the sole witness disappeared."

Luke whistled. "A seriously bad guy, then."

"Apparently so. And get this." She leaned forward, unable to hide her excitement at the strides she'd made in the past few weeks. "Johnson testified in court that William Day was the mastermind behind the train robbery. That it was Day who came up with the idea and did all the planning. The only one of the three with no criminal record."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Exactly! Johnson got some sort of special deal from the prosecution for testifying. Because of all the national attention, the prosecutor went after William the hardest, and then McCleary. To muddy William's reputation, McCleary's criminal record was emphasized over and over, and then the prosecutor hammered home the fact that Day and McCleary had been close since elementary school. He repeatedly called them ‘as alike as two peas in a pod.'?"

Luke rested his elbows on his knees, his gaze glued to her face. "Guilty by association."

"Right. The media pushed that narrative, too. By the time they got done, popular opinion condemned both Day and McCleary."

"Didn't they defend themselves in court?"

"They tried. Day testified that well before the robbery, he'd warned McCleary about Johnson and his schemes, but his friend wouldn't listen. On the day of the robbery, Day discovered their plans and raced after McCleary to try to stop him. McCleary's testimony backed up that testimony, too. According to him, by the time William Day arrived, the robbery and the shoot-out were already over."

Luke had straightened in his seat. "Day wasn't even there?"

"Not according to his and McCleary's testimony. McCleary said Johnson was the only one armed, too. Of course, Johnson denied all of it, saying it was Day who'd planned the whole thing, and that both Day and McCleary were armed, while he wasn't. But I think he was lying."

"Yes!" Luke smacked his hand on the arm of his chair. "By gosh, this is the reason Grandma Rose should stop editing our archives. She's assuming the truth will be worse than reality when, in fact, the opposite is just as likely to be true."

Tay couldn't agree more. "When I read through the transcripts, I was hoping some of the train passengers had testified, but none of them saw anything, as the gold was stored in the final baggage car of the train, well out of their sight. That's where both the robbery and the shoot-out occurred."

"I daresay there was a lot of confusion that day, too."

She nodded. "Two of the Pinkerton agents didn't testify because they were still in the hospital at the time of the trial. The two who did testify couldn't agree on much of anything. One gave a blistering condemnation of all three men, saying he saw them stealing the gold and carrying weapons. But the other one testified that there were only two robbers—Johnson and McCleary. He said that while those two were trying to escape, William Day arrived by horse and pulled the wounded McCleary out of the line of fire."

"That's in the transcript?" At her nod he frowned. "None of that's in any of the articles I just read."

"It was the heyday of yellow journalism. There are errors in almost every news article that was printed. What's worse is that, at the time, smaller newspapers that couldn't afford to send someone to cover an event in another state would take the news articles from those larger papers and reprint them word for word. You can see how popular opinion quickly moved against William Day."

"Surely his lawyer saw what was happening and responded to the accusations during the trial?"

"When you read the transcripts, you'll realize how incompetent William's lawyer was. The prosecutor saw to it that William and McCleary were labeled ‘troublemakers' and ‘greedy thieves,' while Johnson was lauded for ‘coming clean' to the prosecution. He was portrayed more as a reliable witness than a thief."

"What was he sentenced to?"

"Reduced sentence of five years. He was the star witness, after all. Day and McCleary were sentenced to twenty-five years apiece."

"First rat to the cheese wins."

"Every time." She leaned back in her chair, the old iron bearings creaking loudly. "What's ironic is that if Johnson hadn't been a drunkard, he and McCleary might have gotten away with it."

"You really think so?"

"It's possible. But the night after the robbery, Johnson went to a bar somewhere outside of town and proceeded to get drunk and bragged in front of a dozen witnesses about having a lot of gold. He was arrested shortly afterward."

"What a fool." He shook his head slowly. "It's funny, but my parents told me and my sister, Caitlyn, the story of the train robbery a dozen times at least, but they didn't know any of these details."

"There's a big debate among historians as to the reliability of un-recorded oral histories. At times they are remarkably accurate, but not always. Details can fade with each retelling, and there's no way to discern bias."

"Especially not when there's someone like my grandma Rose trying to clean up the family image." He cast an admiring glance at Tay. "You've figured out a lot of things already, and you haven't even dug through the family archives yet. I can't wait to see what you discover once we set you loose in there."

Her gaze immediately went to the door beside the bookshelves. "I don't suppose you'd mind showing me those now, would you? Your grandmother said you should be the one to do it."

His blue eyes twinkled with amusement. "I thought you wanted to get organized first."

"I can't wait," she admitted.

"Then let's have a look." He was already walking toward the door. He opened it, flipped on the light, and then stood to one side. "After you."

She walked into the room and took in a deep breath, loving the old-paper smell. The room was small compared to the office they'd just left, but it was packed with shelves filled with large, clearly marked boxes in which newspapers were stored flat and pristine. "These are the same type of storage boxes they use in most university archives."

"Acid-free, every one of them." He gestured to the back of the room, where smaller boxes lined the wall. "Those are the Day family archives. Grandma Rose brought back the records that mention William Day. They're in that blue box on the bottom shelf."

"Where was she hiding them?"

He grinned. "In a box under a bed in one of the guest bedrooms. She's usually super picky about keeping the archives in a climate-controlled room, but I guess she was okay with the William Day information getting a little faded and moldy."

"I'll never understand that. I'm glad you convinced her to bring them back." She ran her fingers over the closest boxes, eagerly reading the labels. "This is awesome. I should be able to dig in starting tomorrow morning." She gave a sad sigh at the thought of waiting. "Speaking of which, I should get back at it."

He followed her back into the office, and they went to their own desks.

He placed her yellow pad in front of his chair and sat down. But instead of reading her notes, he watched her sorting through her files. "Once we document all the mentions of Sarafina, William, the train robbers, and their families, what will we do next?"

She placed a stack of folders in front of her and sank into her creaky chair. "One of the biggest questions I have about Sarafina's past has to do with her career as a journalist." The thought had dawned on her in the middle of the night when she'd been awake and trying not to think about stupid stuff. Lately, instead of going through the endless what-ifs about her time with Richard, she'd instead thought about the what-ifs of Sarafina's and William's real lives. It had helped, as Tay had stumbled upon some new concepts.

"The accepted story is that Sarafina got her job as a reporter in New York by begging an editor to give her an assignment so she could prove herself. She supposedly annoyed the poor man until he gave in. But I'm not sure I believe that just annoying an editor would be enough to get a job back in those days, especially for a woman."

"How so?"

"If you were an editor at a major newspaper, would you give a very young woman—one with no experience whatsoever—an assignment, even an impossible one? Why would he bother?"

Luke tapped his fingers across his notepad, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You're right. He would expect a reference of some sort and a sample of her writing even— Oh!" He leaned forward. "You think she was a reporter before she went to New York."

Tay nodded. "This is where she lived, so I think it's possible she wrote for the Register. She'd have used a pseudonym, too, as being a female reporter would have been a scandal in a small town like this."

"That's an interesting theory. How do you plan to prove it, if she wrote under another name?"

"I took copies of all the articles Sarafina wrote during her time in New York and made a list of common phrases she used. I want to use those phrases to identify articles she may have written for the Register in the years right before she left town. Once I do that, I will run those articles through an AI application to confirm it."

Luke's eyes brightened. "Wow. This is going to be fun."

He seemed as excited as she felt. Smiling, he picked up the notepad she'd given him. "I'll start looking for these names, then."

"You have to read very, very carefully or you'll miss something. Your biggest enemy is boredom. Even I catch myself skimming after a while."

"Boredom is my friend. You should try watching The Little Mermaid two hundred and seventy-one times."

She had to smile. "Lulu's favorite?"

"She can quote every line." He leaned back in his chair and eyed her with a questioning gaze. "I know I haven't proven myself yet, but I have another favor to ask."

She felt her smile slipping away. "What's that?"

"I have free time some evenings. How about I try solving the secret code Sarafina wrote in that poem she sent to her daughter?"

Tay almost dropped the file she'd just picked up. "How do you know about that?"

"I'm friends with Nate Stevens, who owns Ace Hardware. One of your sisters mentioned it to him when she came in to buy shoe polish."

"That would be Ella. She has more boots than common sense." Sheesh. Her sisters were something else. "They talk too much."

"Can I see it, then?" He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Unless you're afraid I might crack it, that is. I'm pretty good at puzzles."

"I'd love for someone to do just that." Heavens knew she'd tried. Still, he was asking for a lot, wasn't he? "Haven't I already given you enough to do?"

"During the day, sure. But I can't take the Register s home, can I? Grandma Rose would pluck out my eyeballs if I even suggested such a thing. Which leaves me with free evenings, especially since Lulu goes to bed at eight."

"Didn't you say you had computer stuff to do at night?"

"Some. But I always have time for a good puzzle."

Goodness. Give this man an inch and he takes a mile. Still, Tay supposed it couldn't hurt. "Fine." She leaned across the desk to pull a folder from a pile. She removed a copy of the poem, carried it to his desk, and handed it to him.

He began to read to himself, his lips moving as he went through it.

Tay had read it so many times that she could quote it with the same accuracy Lulu could quote The Little Mermaid .

A truth, a name, a number.

Told to all yet soon mentioned by none.

So he carved it in stone where peace meets up in oaken silence.

Tay thought it an oddly beautiful poem. Almost haunting. Ah! He needs to read the letter, too. She went back to her desk and found the typewritten letter Sarafina had sent with the poem to Lucy. In it, Sarafina had explained to her daughter that the poem held a clue to the "family secret" but that Lucy should consider closely whether she really wanted to know it or not, as "secrets aren't always answers."

Tay had always liked that phrase. Research was similar—some answers merely raised more questions. She placed the letter on the edge of her desk and slid her fingers along the scrawled signature as she'd done a hundred times before. In a blinding second, Tay was with Sarafina once again. She was at home, wearing a loose robe as she signed the letter she'd just removed from her typewriter.

Tay could smell the oil lamp, feel the brush of the breeze that came through the nearby open window, and hear the noisy street below. She got only one quick glimpse of Sarafina's emotions as she wrote her name before the pen lifted and the vision ended. She wondered if her daughter would follow the clues hidden in the poem or if she'd tuck it away and forget it.

The whole thing fascinated Tay. She glanced over at Luke.

He was reading the poem over and over, his eyebrows knit. He was so sunk in his own thoughts, trying to see through the lines to the meaning beyond, that he seemed to have forgotten Tay was in the room.

She'd thought she was the only one who did that sort of thing. He won't figure it out, but he seems serious about helping. That was something.

She handed him the letter. "Sarafina sent this with the poem to her daughter. Context is everything, so you should read them together in order to—"

A sharp rap startled them both.

Through the picture window, Rose glared at Luke, lifted her hand, and shook the scanning wand in his direction. She then feigned throwing it away.

Luke muttered under his breath as he got up and headed for the door. "I've told her a hundred times not to shake that thing." He glanced over his shoulder and said in a grim tone, "I'll be right back."

Tay had to laugh as she watched him duck out of the office just in time to save the poor scanner and then gently lead Rose back to the counter.

Shaking her head, Tay returned to her desk. She could hardly wait to see what new things the Register s and the Day archives would reveal. Had Sarafina written for the Register ? And if so, how had it come about?

So excited she could barely sit still, Tay forced herself to settle into her creaky chair and get back to work.