AN OCEAN OF EMOTION
Chapter Seven
Charles Andrews
Ruth had been on me now for a
while to actually make contact with her daughter, or at least the woman she
thought was her daughter. I first saw them at a small grocery store one day
last week. I watched from afar as the red-haired woman with the newborn laughed
with her still very pregnant friend. Ruth had given me the newspaper clipping
of the inquests and I matched the pregnant girl with the caption in the photo
stating her to be Victoria A. Metcalfe. Pretending to be interested in some
deli meat, I watched out of the corner of my eye as the two girls passed me by
on their way out the door.
"Not even a second
glance," I muttered under my breath as I tossed the deli meat back into
the open-faced icebox.
I stayed where I was until they
left and then walked out, being careful not to be spotted. My job was to remain
in the background. As they left, I began to notice things. The red-haired girl
obviously trusted the pregnant one. The pregnant girl held the red-haired
girl’s baby as they walked along. I got my camera out of my bag and snapped few
photos, ducking behind a tree as the red-haired girl picked up a toy that the
baby had dropped. Quickly snapping a photo of the girl’s face as she bent over
to pick up the toy, I took my place back behind the tree so as not to be
spotted. I knew that if that photo turned out, I had the photo Ruth wanted.
I followed them a little bit more
and took up residence behind a row of hedges down the street a bit. I still had
a good view of the girls, but they didn’t see me. The red-haired girl took the
baby back and walked up a brick pathway to what I thought was her house. The
other girl walked a little bit farther and turned to go inside a similar house.
I stayed hidden and waited until the right moment to speak with her.
Rose
"You’re getting big!" I
was holding my son as we were walking outside. He was bundled up in a dark gown
with a cute goose down coat that Victoria had given me as a baby present after
James was born. He looked adorable in it, and best of all, it kept him warm.
Although the sun was out and even for a winter day, the breeze wasn’t that bad,
James still needed to be covered. James and I were walking outside to check our
mailbox. Very few items ever came in the mail, but when we did get something,
usually a letter from Jack when he was out sailing, it brought a smile to my
face. As I pulled the door open, I saw an envelope inside. Not bothering to
check who it was from, I stuffed it into the pocket of my coat and started to
hurry back inside as the wind picked up. The chill in the air was enough to
send me running.
"Ma’am?"
I turned around to see a strange
man calling out to me from the other side of the white picket fence that
surrounded the front of my property. The fence stopped just short of the
street, with a pathway that led from the gate all the way to the porch of our
home. I took a step back towards the house as I called out to him.
He started to come through the
gate, and I took another step back. Sensing my uneasiness, he stayed where he
was, but kept his hand on the latch as the gate came open.
"I was wondering if you
could tell me how to get to the farmer’s market? " He motioned over his
shoulder. "I’ve been walking for about an hour and I am afraid I am lost.
And in this weather, I don’t want to stay out too long."
I surveyed the man, who was still
holding onto the gate latch. "The farmer’s market is closed right now. All
you’ll find there until spring is a few people selling crafts, women who quilt,
mostly. Is that what you are looking for?" After I finished, I got the
feeling that the man was eyeing me as much as I was eyeing him.
He nodded slowly. "Yes. I
am. I heard that it was a crafts fair during the off months. Can you point me
in the direction?" The man took off his gloves as he blew warm air onto his
fingertips. He was trying to give me a hint that he was cold, and that I got,
but I wasn’t about to let him into my house without Jack or Harry here. I just
didn’t trust him.
I shifted James to my other hip
and pointed with my left hand back in the direction he came from. "About
half a mile that way, make a right onto Newberry Street. It’s about a quarter
of a mile down Newberry on the left. The farmer’s market signs are probably
down, but you’ll recognize the place. You can’t miss it."
He slowly nodded as he took what
I had said in. "Newberry Street. Understood…thank you, Miss…uh…"
I cleared my throat and looked
him over one more time. Something just didn’t feel right. "It’s Mrs. Mrs.
Dawson."
The man nodded and started to
smile, but caught himself and walked off with a spring in his step as if he had
accomplished a great feat.
Ruth
One Week Later
"Ma’am, there is a gentleman
at the door. Should I show him into the parlor?"
I looked up from my novel to see
Andrea looking at me. "Yes. Please. Do you have any idea who he is?"
"No, ma’am. He just stated
that he knew you and that you were waiting for him."
I nodded as Andrea moved back in
the direction of the front of the Hockley residence. Cal was out at work, and I
hadn’t a clue where Nathan had gone. I set my book on an end table, and after
wrapping my shawl around my shoulders, I made my way to the parlor where my
unannounced guest was. To my surprise, as I came closer, I saw that my private
investigator was waiting for me.
He took his hat off as he made eye
contact with me. "Ma’am."
I nodded. "Do you have
something for me?"
"Aye. Indeed, I do."
I had been working with him for a
few months now and hadn’t a clue that he had a thick accent from time to time.
"Please. Come with me into a more private area of the home. If the men of
the house come home for lunch and they see you here, I’ll have a hard time
explaining who you are to them." I led the way to a back office Cal rarely
used. After a quick glance into the hallway, I shut the door, anxious to hear
what the man I had hired had found out. "So, what do you have?"
Charles took a brown envelope out
of his briefcase. "I have these." He handed me the envelope as I sat
down behind the desk.
The photos were all I needed.
"Where did you take these?" I flipped through them. The Metcalfe girl
was obviously with child and my daughter had a child in her arms. The child
couldn’t have been more than a few months old. "Titanic."
"Begging your pardon?"
Charles looked at me, confused with that statement.
"Nothing. Just a thought I
had about the infant."
He cleared his throat. "I
can’t be too sure which one the infant belongs to. Both were holding him. I
couldn’t get that close. The red-haired girl took him inside the house, but
later on, the pregnant one came over and got him for a little bit. After that,
I felt it best to leave so I didn’t get caught."
I nodded as I continued looking.
"How long did you follow the girls?"
He stopped to think. "Day or
so. I was in town for a few days before I found them. They don’t get out much,
with the baby and all."
I didn’t want to know the answer
to this question, but I had to ask. "Was there a man with my daughter or
the Metcalfe girl?"
Charles shook his head. "I
didn’t see one. But obviously there has to be one, since there is a baby
already here and the other one is pregnant. But the whole time I was there, I
didn’t see anyone, at least not with your daughter. I didn’t pay that much
attention to the other one. You’re paying me to follow your daughter, not the
pregnant one."
I studied the photos more. Rose
had gained a little weight. I presumed the baby was hers and the child was the
bastard child of that Dawson boy. Evidently she had gotten pregnant on the
Titanic or shortly thereafter. I looked at the photos a bit longer before I
realized Charles was still there.
"Forgive me. Let me get your
payment."
At the thought of money, his eyes
lit up. "One more thing."
I turned to face him with my hand
still on the safe knob. "What is it?"
He reached into his vest pocket
and pulled out a slip of yellow legal paper. "Your daughter’s home
address."
I held the paper carefully, as if
it might come apart and disintegrate in my hands. Realizing he still wanted his
money, I turned the knob of the safe until I heard it click and the door swung
open. After counting out the two hundred dollars I had promised him, with an
extra twenty dollars for a tip, I handed it to him. "Thank you. You have
no idea how much this means to me."
He bid me farewell and stated
that if I needed him again to please send word.
The private investigator I had
hired had come through with his promises. After a trip to New York, he had
managed to locate my daughter. She was alive. I opened the piece of paper with
Rose’s new address on it. 2823 Slate Avenue, New York City. After folding it, I
put it in the envelope and began to gather the photos.
Now I could prove to Cal and his
father that Rose was alive. She could move back here, Cal could adopt the
little baby, and no one would be the wiser about Rose’s mistake with that
Dawson boy. With a newfound sense of hope, I headed back to the study to finish
my book and wait for Cal to get home later on that night.